Like Scraped Up Dust to Save
1-2-3 and,
Put-your-dollars-in-your wallet,
And pretend its vacant paper!
Like scraped up dust to save.
And...
Put-your-dollars-in-your wallet,
And pretend its vacant paper.
To e-vap-orate like vapor.
And...
Put-your-dollars-in-your wallet,
And pretend its vacant paper.
No-longer-to-savored.
To 'trip' on treasured capers.
And...
Put-your-dollars-in-your wallet,
And pretend its vacant paper!
That's all it's worth today!
And...
Put-your-dollars-in-your wallet,
And pretend its vacant paper!
Like scraped up dust to save!
1-2-3,
Like scraped up dust to save!
And...
1-2-3,
Like scraped up dust to save!
And...
1-2-3,
Like scraped up dust to save!
And...
1-2-3,
Like scraped up dust to save!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dust Bowl
[ music: robert buck/words: natalie merchant ]
I should know to leave them home.
They follow me through the store with these toys I cant afford.
Kids, take them back, you know better than that.
Dolls that talk, astronauts, t.v. games, airplanes, they dont understand and how can I explain?
I try and try but I cant save.
Pennies, nickels, dollars slip away.
Ive tried and tried but I cant save.
My youngest girl has bad fever, sure.
All night with alcohol to cool and rub her down.
Ruby, Im tired, try and get some sleep.
Im adding doctors fees to remedies with the cost of three days work lost.
I try and try but I cant save.
Pennies, nickels, dollars slip away.
Ive tried and tried but I cant save.
The hole in my pocketbook is growing.
Theres a new wind blowing they say, its gonna be a cold, cold one.
So brace yourselves my darlings, it wont bring anything much our way but more dust bowl days.
I played a card in this weeks game.
Took the first and the last letters in three of their names.
This lotterys been building up for weeks.
I could be lucky me with the five million prize, tears of disbelief spilling out of my eyes.
I try and try but I cant save.
Pennies, nickels, dollars slip away.
Ive tried and tried but I cant save.
The hole in my pocketbook is growing.
Theres a new wind blowing they say, its gonna be a cold, cold one.
So brace yourselves my darlings, it wont bring anything much our way but more dust bowl days.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone Is the Whoopie Goosed From You
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down,
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down,
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Gone is the whoopie goosed from you!
Tingled were sensations,
A few dollars had amused.
Now you're quite upset.
Regrets are now your pets.
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down.
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down.
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Gone is the whoopie goosed from you!
Ooo...
And there's no debate,
Which side to lick your plate!
Morning and noon too,
You feel you've been screwed.
And nobody's there...
To give a damn or care!
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down.
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Have you found the turnaround
Has come to beat you down.
'Yeah! '
With your knuckles scraped.
'Yeah.'
And nothing on your plate,
'Yeah.'
Gone is the whoopie goosed from you!
Ooo...
And there's no debate,
Which side to lick your plate!
Gone is the whoopie goosed from you!
Ooo...
And there's no debate,
Which side to lick your plate!
And there's no debate,
Which side to lick your plate!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God save you...
God save you from uninvited sadness
that knock at the windows at blind nights,
from sweet cheats that seem to be happiness
but then …. as an enemy smites.
God save you from unneeded advices,
from insulting libels, from vain expectations,
from those who pretend to be friends
and then …. go with denunciations.
God save you on the non shallow roads,
save from the choice between duty and wish,
save from the pain of loss and doubts,
save from needless suffering and anguish.
God bless, save and protect you today and always!
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 15th of April,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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What Have I?
What have I, save what you've given?
Nothing, surely nothing I would keep.
What have I, save the love that's livin'
inside my heart where it did creep?
Slowly it showed me what it's like
to feel at peace each day.
Never to question why it came
and never to have to think or say
why?
What have I, save the moments we've spent,
vacant spaces that do not count?
What have I, save the contemplation
that those spaces don't amount
to anything as meaningful to my life
as the moments that define
how I feel on every day
just because you're mine?
What have I, save how you've loved me?
Nothing, surely nothing I would need.
What have I, save how you allowed me
to be myself in every deed?
And to follow my path wherever it leads
and to know without exception
you join with me
and you let me see
that I never have to ask
Why?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Anger' Is Not Always A Poem
'Anger' is not always a poem-
It does not always bring us to the rage of literature,
Lear on the heath
Macbeth bereft -
Other dreams of death
Spoken in hissful silence
Which move us suddenly
To incredible feeling
Also live in us-
We are not what we are
And not what we will be-3
And ‘Nothing' is spoken of us
As if that too will pain away -
'Die Die Die' they say to you
As if all is forever dying in us
Oh the rage will not save either
Nor the poem nor the anger -
Who are we after all?
Dust of dust of dust in all our voices and all our outraged silences-
Except God save us.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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According to one critic, my works looked like scraped billboards. I went to look at the billboards and decided that more billboards should be scraped.
quote by Mark Tobey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What went wrong
What went wrong
Writing life songs.
From the emptiness to creation
Revelations.
Matter of time, kindness was done.
Dust creation, breath of life.
Good and bad.
Tree snake.
Disobey, cast away.
Man of the cave.
Restricted, knowledge of words in a foreigner language
Mothering though.
Wisdom.
The bird and the fish
Tree and reed
The pickaxe and the plow
Silver and bronze
Epic tales of destruction.
Precious metal, scraped paper.
Imaginary numbers.
Rotten tree, black gold
Sold souls and war.
poem by Luca Menin
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Save Your Love
You were my woman and I was your man
You were good lookin
You know I was your biggest fan
You tried to teach me things I already knew
When you couldnt reach me
Girl, I think you knew that we were through
Baby, its over
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Put it back on the shelf
For somebody else
You said you love me, you may have been right
But hangin above me, girl,
You know that we would fight
You tried to change me and mess up my mind
Now, dont rearrange me
And girl, you know thats why youre left behind
Its over now
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Put it back on the shelf
For somebody else
Girl, you know its over
We had some good times
But now theyre gone, so long
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, save it, save it
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Put it back on the shelf
For somebody else
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Girl, I dont want it, save your love
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Girl, I dont want it, save your love
Save your love, I dont want it (save your love)
Save it for someone else (save it, save it)
Save your love, I dont need it (save your love)
Girl, I dont want it, save your love
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Click Click
There came a sound concocted by demons
A sound like metal and blood
She's strangling cats with horses up there
I've had enough, it's time to die
Do you think she's run out of resin
Has she even heard of the stuff
If I knew where to buy it I would, but I don't
Like it or not, you're not leaving alive
So save your breath for when you die
Save your time for me
There's never been a time for you
I'd like to blame Vivaldi
The blame is made out of dust
And when the dust blows backwards it smokes and it stacks
Say what you want, it's time to die
Why don't you call up all the firsts and seconds
There'll be a swinging performance tonight
I can explain it all when the cops come around
Tomorrow night, you're not leaving alive
So save your breath for when you die
Save your time for me
There's never been a time for you.
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was walking down fifth avenue today and I found a wallet, and I was gonna keep it, rather than return it, but I thought: well, if I lost a hundred and fifty dollars, how would I feel? And I realized I would want to be taught a lesson.
quote by Emo Philips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Handmade Poem
Because I am no poet
this ode shall be sculpted
with handmade paper and malachite
and when the papyrus will fossilize
its lyrics shall be chiseled in 3D.
The drummed hammering
shall be its melody
with the notes cleaved
and for the rustling sound
use the flow of myriad marble dust.
And if the stanzas won’t hum right
they’ll be shattered chipped off
scraped instead of crumpled.
Well, all this visual
and aural circumlocution
is only in my mind because
there’s no more than a soft tap
when the apex of my finger
glides on the keyboard of the PC.
Sigh!
But maybe,
just maybe,
instead of sculpting
I should paint this poem
on handmade paper
in the way of Hiroshige or Mi Fei
who thinned down black ink
suiting it to necessary transparency
distinguishing
the astigmatic background
from the myopic forefront.
And for good measure
I shall sculpt this poem
in French and intersperse it
with a bit of Slav
like here and there
a da and a couple of niet
since most readers would know
those crucial words.
Then I shall sit in a lotus stanza
sigh…
and dedicate this poem
to water lilies
so when the paper
it is written on
is discovered
it will have completely
dissolved
with only stripped letters
floating down the stream
reforming fluid stanzas
worthy of the river’s
amorous curves.
I think it’ll be
a sculpture
gratifying the erotica
between water and clay.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Aug©2008
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Regulating and taxing marijuana would simultaneously save taxpayers billions of dollars in enforcement and incarceration costs, while providing many billions of dollars in revenue annually.
quote by George Soros
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tens of billions of dollars could be saved in Medicare and Medicaid alone by eliminate fraud and improving patient care. Not only would this save money, but it will save lives.
quote by Tim Murphy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invest on a soul
Your revolver will not save you
When your limbs lose their ability.
Your wallet will not save you
When your brain loses its ability.
A trusted soul is the need of the hour.
Find a soul and invest on it
Before it is too late to do.
22.05.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Burnt Paper
it is a cut-out paper
thin
delicate white
sharp
it is my world
apart from yours
i stay away from
rain
put my paper feet
on wood
as you pretend to be
the woman of
my pen
you touch
but what you touch is just
my paper
me
i have no more flesh
no bone
the years have eaten them
all
it cut-out from a shape
of your desire
i am burnt.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Are We?
WHAT ARE WE?
What are we?
Dust of the earth
Dust of the stars
Thinking dust
Dreaming dust
Loving dust
Dust of Dust
God’s Dust
What are we?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Vacant Space
this is the vacant space
of my room, you may come
this is the vacant hour
you may barge and talk simply talk
this is the vacant lot of my being
you may build your home
this is vacant
fill it with space, drag your hours here,
start watering the roses in your garden
beside your house
this is a vacant hole in my ear
talk simply talk
i am always listening
this is my vacant line, please fill in the missing
word
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paper And Pen
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Can’t think of anything to say today
Can’t think of anything to do
Can’t think of anything to play today
Minds gone blank
Leaving me here, just sitting here
Listening to my hair grow
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
And I look towards you
For an inspiration or a word or two
I try but I find
Every road only leads me back to these lines
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
I try but don't get very far
Paper and pen
Piano, guitar
Paper and pen
Trying to write a song again
Paper and pen
Paper and pen
Copyright Colin Coplin 1985 / 2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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What Would It Take
Remember what you told me
That you would always be there
If you change your mind now
Oh, what would it take to save me
What would it take to save me now
Here comes another night
And all the stars are shining
Could I make it right
Woh, what would it take to save me
What would it take to save me now
Ohhh, what would it take
Whooo, what would it take
To save me
What would it take to save me
What would it take to save me now
Ohhh, what would it take
Whooo, what would it take
To save me
Of all the things I do
And everywhere they take me
You know what I go through
What would it take to save me
What would it take to save me now
What would it take to save me
What would it take to save me now
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mastodon Hunt
Spear shafts splintering beneath its collapsing hulk,
the mastodon crashed to the earth,
roared its final lament and fell silent.
Shouts echoed across the ravine.
Dark-haired Clovis hunters converged:
stripping the hide,
carving the flesh.
Others circling the carcass,
traced broken shafts to flint;
gathering them for tomorrow's hunt -
retrieving all save one.
A triumphal fire hissed and snapped,
hurling heat and smoke
high into the mid–day sky.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The archaeologist knelt to the ground.
Heart racing, he scraped dirt from flint,
brushed away millennia of dust
and raised the projectile to the sun shouting,
'Clovis point! '
'Clovis point' - a revelation in the dust:
found inches from the bones of its prey.
Khaki and blue jean clad hunters gathered quickly
to read the epic written in flint and bone:
mastodon and Clovis united by the point of a spear.
poem by Robert Charles Howard
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