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I Do No Tours

Where
Do you get all of this 'stuff' from?
'From the attic'

From the attic?
But
I don't see any attic

'And you wont
I am the only one that has the key
And in my 'home'
I do no tours
I do guests
And no tours do those guests get.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

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In this Vietnam Tours session, you can find out full information about all package tours in Vietnam. Vietnam Deluxe Travel operates a wide range of tour types as: Classic tours, Golfing packages, Honeymoon tours, stopover tours, Vietnam Adventure Tours, Cruises in Halong bay, Travel to Sapa by train, Vietnam Beach Vacationsand Culinary tours (tours with cooking learning) as well. You can compare many itineraries to all places of Vietnam to get your most prefered needs for traveling. Apart from that, we give a chance to design your ownVietnam tours in our tailor-made tours session. Join us and make your jurney now!

poem by Nhung Dinh Thi Hong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Light In The Attic

There's a light on in the attic.
Thought the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin' flutter,
And I know what it's about.
There's a light on in the attic.
I can see it from the outside.
And I know you're on the inside... lookin' out.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drivin Me To Drink

I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Its about to go down
When the remys in the system, it aint no tellin
What the other person sayin, theres too much yellin
Even though I know, that aint what I need
I cant take the naggin and the bitchin and the screamin
No matter what I do it just aint enough
You say I dont take you out and buy you stuff
But you got these thangs, provided by me
Somebody pass me the vsop
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
Come home from a long day
Instead of havin dinner ready
All you got is somethin to say
Goin on like I need that
Im doin all I can and you can keep that
Said I never met no girl like you
Ungrateful thats the truth
Always got a problem
Wont you tell me what Im supposed to do
Girl you got some issues
Straighten all that out baby
Or I wont kick it with you
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that
Bridge:
Say you got me on that hen dog
Cuz Im tired of askin you whats wrong
And Im feeling kinda crazy
All I want is somethin - from my lady
Say you got me on that hen dog
Cuz Im tired of askin you whats wrong
And Im feeling kinda crazy
All I want is somethin - from my lady
Chorus:
I need a drink cuz youre drivin me to drink
Two shots of attic and I aint even gotta think about
The way I dont do this
The way I dont do that
You might deserve a slap
But girl I cant go out like that

song performed by by Jagged Edge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toys In The Attic

In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
(chorus)
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
Toys, toys, toys in the attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothings seen
Reals a dream
(repeat chorus) (yayayayayayayow!)

song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toys In The Attic

In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Chorus)
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
Toys, toys, Toys In The Attic
In the attic lies
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
Leaving the things that are real behind
Leaving the things that you love from mind
All of the things you learned from fears
Nothing is left for the years
Voices scream
Nothing's seen
Real's a dream
(Repeat Chorus)

song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toys In The Attic

song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Spaces

What shall we use to fill the empty spaces where waves of hunger roar?
Shall we set out across this sea of faces in search of more and more applause?
Shall we buy a new guitar?
Shall we drive a more powerful car?
Shall we work straight through the night?
Shall we get into fights
Leave the lights on
Drop bombs
Do tours of the east
Contract diseases
Bury bones
Break up homes
Send flowers by phone
Take to drink
Go to shrinks
Give up meat
Rarely sleep
Keep people as pets
Train dogs
Raise rats
Fill the attic with cash
Bury treasure
Store up leisure
But never relax at all
With our backs to the wall?

song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Shall We Do Now

What shall we use to fill the empty spaces
Where waves of hunger roar?
Shall we set out across the sea of faces
In search of more and more applause?
Shall we buy a new guitar?
Shall we drive a more powerful car?
Shall we work straight through the night?
Shall we get into fights?
Leave the lights on?
Drop bombs?
Do tours of the east?
Contract diseases?
Bury bones?
Break up homes?
Send flowers by phone?
Take to drink?
Go to shrinks?
Give up meat?
Rarely sleep?
Keep people as pets?
Train dogs?
Race rats?
Fill the attic with cash?
Bury treasure?
Store up leisure?
But never relax at all
With our backs to the wall.

song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Attic

'There's nobody in
But the light is on
And a chair just creaked,
Did you hear it, son?
There's been no chairs
For ever so long,
So who's abroad
In the attic, son? '

'That grim old lady
Who haunts the stairs
In a faded dress
With a world of cares,
Whenever I look
She disappears,
But lives in a world
That's drowned in tears.'

'They say she mutters
Beneath the moon
From the window there
In the month of June,
The light was out
In that ancient room
When she jumped from the window,
Into the gloom.'

'Why does she haunt
The attic, son,
If her soul took flight
When the moon was gone?
What is she trying
To tell us, son? '

'There's nobody in
But the light is on! '

26 October 2008

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet IV

Up at his attic sill the South wind came
And days of sun and storm but never peace.
Along the town's tumultuous arteries
He heard the heart-throbs of a sentient frame:
Each night the whistles in the bay, the same
Whirl of incessant wheels and clanging cars:
For smoke that half obscured, the circling stars
Burnt like his youth with but a sickly flame.
Up to his attic came the city cries --
The throes with which her iron sinews heave --
And yet forever behind prison doors
Welled in his heart and trembled in his eyes
The light that hangs on desert hills at eve
And tints the sea on solitary shores. . . .

poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy

I feel very happy :)
Whenever he comes back
From his official tours…

However much
We bicker, squabble
Or fight,
Something
Just doesn't
Feel right -
When he isn't
There with me.

We've been a couple
For more than twelve
Years now…
I'm so used to his
Presence, that his
Absence irks me.

He's my life's
Best friend,
Loving and
Accepting me
The way I am.

No wonder,
Whenever
He returns
Home from his
Tours, it feels like
Happy homecoming
To me :)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Amys In The Attic

Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and brain has gone ecstatic
Not another day of all the suffering and pain I was just a little boy ever so naive
Amy was my best friend, I never want to hurt her
I never wanna ever wanna think about her murder
On the playground, I chase her down the slide
I chase her cross the monkey bars and she would run and hide
Jinglin and tumbling, I pushed her off the sled
Amy coincidently hit her head
Dumbling inside my brain, down came the wade
Amy isnt answering, who would get the blame?
Amy isnt laughing, amy isnt crying
Amy isnt really breathing, God I think shes dying
Suddenly, the air is cold I must get her inside
Even though she died, amy has to hide
Nobody must ever know that I made amy sick
Lock her up forever in the attic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Every day I suffer but eleven years have passed
How long will this keep and the nightmares last
Sitting in my living room, another strange feeling
I think Im hearing tiny footsteps on the ceiling
Looking in my mirror, the image isnt clear
I feel as if a little girl is standing at my rear and
Then I awake at the blink of an eye
Voices from the attic yellin, why?
What if amy wasnt dead living in the box
Banging on the walls, rattling the locks
Feeding on the roaches, rodents, and filth
And when theres nothing left, she feeds off herself
Why do I think in amy of this way?
She was once a lovely girl running out to play
Maybe its all a dream insane fanatic
Maybe theres no amy in the attic after all
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my
Terror fears, no
Amy isnt dead...
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Barrels to my nugget semi glock automatic
Should I pull the trigger, would this break the chains
That keeps amy locked in my brain
No, I must be starting to pray that I wont
I pray its just a figment, to see this carry on too long
Amy isnt dead, I never knew an amy
I was just a boy, how can you blame me?
Maybe thats okay, but shes tapping at the walls
I see a darling little girl is floating down the hall
Slowly coming toward me, her arms are spreading wide
Opens up her mouth to show the maggots inside
Crying, whining, rotting is the feeling
Tiny drips of blood crowning from the ceiling
Landing on my head, Im psycho-sick Ive finally had it
Amy, know Im coming to the attic!!!!
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my terror fears, yes
Mr. piser, I think you should come up here
Amys in the attic and my brain has gone ecstatic
Maybe it is best to die, thinking did she really die
Im thinking if its really true then how come I am telling you
And if I really meant to do it, should I be a victim to
Should I walk the terror stairs, and savior all my terror fears, no

song performed by by Insane Clown Posse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Attic Key

When the transpiration of earliest dews
Failed to staid and invigorate
The amputated isthmus of the atrium
You would blithely shun
All the lovely, saccharine bones
Even the crunchy stride
Of the svelte V-formation
Of the veering migrating birds
Paving the soggy nimbuses
Of hapless shades and parasols
For they unfurl a reminder
Of capitulating abandonments
And like a wolf without a howl
You would aimlessly amble
With feet of morose
To cave inside, distraught,
In the clandestine dappled corners
Where the myriad of the dead
And the plenitude of dying breaths
Rattle uncouthly for
A greater hunger
And in the riving of hushed comport
Of the attic's remedy
You would sulk to descry
Your maudlin heart beating briskly
Sodden from the attrition
Of the charlatan sun
Amongst the trellises of cobwebs
And shoddy bed of dusts
You would lay your empathy
And the stagnant breathing
Of the attic's clockwork verve
Would feign an assuaging sweep
To resuscitate the prattling blood
Fervently seeping through
To clutch you closer
Like a bullet darting through
The place where no one knew
Divulging its own nadir
And that was all
That your bleeding needs
To find that you are
Not yet in the bottom
Of your so called pits
And the sun would again seethe
Grazing mellifluously
The bullets buried
To your aching lovely bones
And swear and spiel a promise
To purge the bleak attic
From its latticing derision
And let the light stray and stall
When the next morning dawn
But you always seem to forget
Where the promises coiled
Perhaps, you have crucified a script
In the scathing walls of the chambers
Of the pumping mechanical valves
That you need the fathoms
Of the attic's secrets
So you would stash
The attic key
Into the pathos
Of remorseful wisps
In cases
Of emergency.

poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Toys In The Attic

So many years have passed me by
and so many toys in the attic lie.

Old rusty skates that used to glide,
I see them lyimg on their side.

A doll carriage, a wheel that's broken,
The doll that said 'Mama' now unspoken.

Coloring books all yellowed with age,
memories of 8 colors are on every page.

A kite assembled all by my dad,
the best kite a kid ever had.

A tricycle that mom and dad kept,
a remembered fall when I had wept.

Yo-yos and batty balls in a box,
and plenty of legos and wooden blocks.

So many toys from my childhood days
are in mama's attic that's like a maze.

They're everywhere I step, everywhere I look
but the best thing there is a pocketbook.

Mama filled it with pennies she saved for me
and they're better than all the toys I see.

See my books at stores.lulu.com/reizerj

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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C.B.***2 Wit

..........................He's In The House........................
................ .....In The Attic Frozen Still.................
................Only Moves When He Has To...........
................Waiting To Get His Nasty Fill...........
...............I Hear Him From Time To Time........
............When The Cold Cracks His Base........
............And He Tries To Move His Arms.........
........................Just To Feel His Face.................
..And When We Are All In Bed Slumbering....
..........The Ghost-He Slinks Down The Stairs...
...............Pillages Our Kitchen For Food..............
..................Robbing Our Cupboards Bare................
.....................Some times He Leaves..........................
............. .......Out The Patio Door, He Goes...............
...................But Leaves The Stick Out In View..........
.........................Just To Let Us Know...........................
.............. ......Its Harder For Him Now...........................
.....As The Bay Door Is Tighter Than Leather..........
........But He Manages To Still Slink Around..............
.............To Meet With His Birds of A Feather............
.............Now I Carry A Very Large Stick.....................
................And An Even Meaner Knife And Gun..........
........MESSAGE TO THE GHOST IN THE ATTIC.....
...The Days Coming-When You Are Totally Done.....

poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is a Fanatic Clinging Onto a Madness

There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.
This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.

And those who have achieved it are pleased.
It seems to reflect,
A feeling of a rush that many have come to satiate.
There is a fanatic clinging onto a madness...
As if no roof to a ceiling exists.
As if there is no attic through which hot air escapes.

This madness has been reached.
There is no wish for it to be replaced.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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moonlit attic
just the two of us
my dog and I

haiku by Chenou Liu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creatures In My Home

Creatures in my home:

There’s a boogie man under my bed,
Skeletons and ghosts in the attic,
Trolls in the basement,
Pixies and fairy’s in the garden,
Tree nymphs in the trees,
And water nymphs and mermaids in the stream,
During the day they sleep but during the night they come out and play,
So when my teacher asks why I fall asleep in class I can say,
I was swapping stories with the boogie man under my bed,
Playing cards with the skeletons and ghosts in the attic,
He lost his head when I won but that’s another story,
Swapping stories with the trolls in the basement,
Danced with the fairy’s and pixies in the garden,
Played hid and go seek with the tree nymphs at the trees,
And went swimming with the water nymphs and mermaids at the stream,
After that I get a detention but I can still say I told the truth.

poem by Kevin MacDonald
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Attic

The attic holds such fascination
I climb the ladder in trepidation,
The attic is a time machine
Most things hidden and unseen,
I lift the hatch and take a peak
The old rocking chair begins to creak
Dust coats the old wooden chest
The lid embossed with a crest,
All the games of yesteryear
In the corner, uncles spear,
Boxes piled with books and photos
Most containing all my heroes,
Snakes and ladders, ludo, lots of games
They belonged to my brother James.
Oh! look my old train set
On the ledge fathers old cornet,
A place where I can come and dream
Oh! just hit my head on the beam,
Underneath the old guitar
Just found my 007 car,
I think I'll go I'm getting mellow
Maybe I'll return tomorrow
I descend the ladder and close the hatch
Just for now I'll watch the match.

poem by Hazel Connelly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia^®.ro

I Do No Tours

Related quotes

Http: //www.vietnamdeluxetravel.com/vietnam/tours

A Light In The Attic

Drivin Me To Drink

Toys In The Attic

Toys In The Attic

Toys In The Attic

Empty Spaces

What Shall We Do Now

The Attic

Sonnet IV

Happy

Amys In The Attic

Attic Key

Toys In The Attic

C.B.***2 Wit

There Is a Fanatic Clinging Onto a Madness

Tag, You're It

Creatures In My Home

The Attic

En.Citatepedia®.ro

I Do No Tours

Related quotes

Http: //www.vietnamdeluxetravel.com/vietnam/tours

A Light In The Attic

Drivin Me To Drink

Toys In The Attic

Toys In The Attic

Toys In The Attic

Empty Spaces

What Shall We Do Now

The Attic

Sonnet IV

Happy

Amys In The Attic

Attic Key

Toys In The Attic

C.B.***2 Wit

There Is a Fanatic Clinging Onto a Madness

Tag, You're It

Creatures In My Home

The Attic

En.Citatepedia^®.ro