Sixty Four Cents Per Gallon
Sixty four cents.
That's all they pay.
Sixty four cents per gallon of gas.
Maybe decades ago...
We too could say.
But today with our 'greatness'
And propaganda that is spread.
A dozen of apples,
And perhaps the cost of embarrassment...
May be less,
Than the price of a loaf of bread.
That's what they pay,
In Saudia Arabia each and every day!
And 'he' who leads this great land of ours...
Was turned away as he begged,
Those he chose as 'friends'.
And they embraced and shook his hand.
Sending him like an annoying child,
Back to his home to play!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Intuitive vs cognitive thinking
A bat and a ball cost a dollar ten
The bat cost one dollar more than the ball.
Pray tell, how much does the ball cost?
How quickly the answer seems to fall!
If, like most, you said ten cents
You’re lazy and prone not to think (as am I)
For the correct answer, be not
ten cents my friend (no lie!)
For you I most certainly would not jive
If you think, more than a few blinks
You’ll see your answer stinks
For the cost of the ball is not ten cents at all
But at the cost of some thinking…
Is five!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Picture Of Greed
on one hand
he carries a
big loaf of bread
on the other
he carries a
basket
of the same
loaf of bread
on his head
is another
basket of
the same loaf
of bread
a little child
spreads his
hands for
a loaf of bread
then he speeds
his way
as he bites
a loaf of
bread in
his mouth
the little child
follows him
and there he
is closing the
door of his
house all
made of bread
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Six-sixty-six
In the midst of the war
He offered us peace
And he came like a lover
From out of the east
With the face of an angel and the heart of a beast
His intentions were six-sixty-six
He walked up to the temple
With gold in his hands
And he bought off the priests
And propositioned the land
And the world was his harlot
And laid in the sand
While the band played six-sixty-six
We served at his table
And slept on the floor
But he starved us and beat us
And nailed us to the door
Well, Im ready to die
I cant take any more
And Im sick of his lies and his tricks
He told us he loved us
But that was a lie
There was blood in his pockets
And death in his eyes
Well, my number is up
And Im willing to die
If the band will play six
If the band will play six-sixty
If the band will play six-sixty-six
song performed by by Frank Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Cents Short
(john michael montgomery)
Looking for spare change
To put gas in my car
But what Ive found
Wont get me very far
Seems lately the low times
Have hit me pretty hard
cause Im a few cents short
From getting to where you are
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Aint it funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
So I walked to a pay phone down the road
But a few dimes and a nickel is all I had
The operator wants more money
To place my call
But Im a few cents short
If that dont beat it all
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Aint it funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
Im a few cents short
Of holding you in my arms
And a few cents short
Of keeping us from falling apart
Sure is funny how the money
Can change our lives
cause Im a few cents short
From losing you tonight
Yes Im a few cents short
And Ill be losing you tonight
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fifty Cents A Day
I am an humble Soldier
far from my friends and home,
mid scenes of war and hardships
I constantly must roam,
with many officers over me,
and them I must obey,
and do just what they tell me,
for fifty cents a day.
I enlisted in the army
to help my country's cause,
because I loved it dearly,
and would sustain its laws,
I felt a free man's duty,
his country to obey,
I came not as a hireling,
for fifty cents a day
I enlisted as a soldier.
a free man and a man
To do a soldiers duty,
as best a soldier can.
hope to fight the rebels,
and hate this long delay.
I came to help my country,
for fifty cents a day.
I now must yield to hardships
in cold in storm and rain
perchance with scanty rations
not even then complain
the right of seeking comfort
long since I signed away
my life I am slowly losing
for fifty cents a day.
who send the soldiers to the field
to buy his willing hand,
with promises so plentiful,
of treatment like a man?
twas those who, in two days,
received a larger pay
than does the soldiers in a month
at fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldier,
his wrongs should be redressed
if tyanny or officers
should his right oppress?
alas! the sword may smight him,
or kicked around he may be,
he finds his only redress,
is fifty cents a day
who promised to the soldiers,
if sickness should appear,
good doctors and kind nurses
was ready and was near,
to aid him in his feebleness
as quick as though his pay
was ten times as much
as fifty cents a day.
twas those who wear the shoulder straps
with haughty air of grace,
who look upon the soldier
below the negro race,
who thinks a soldier's duty
is only to obey
his lordship, and be content
with fifty cents a day.
how oft I've seen the soldier,
near tottering to the ground,
seek vainly for some friendly aid,
when it could ne'er be found,
when told he was not ailing,
to go and take his way,
one week would end his suffering
and fifty cents a day.
now, how many of these officers
would be here where they are,
if forced to live like soldiers,
and take a soldier's fare?
how few would take the treatment
even with their liberal pay,
let alone the poor pittance
of fifty cents a day
cheer up my gallant soldiers,
be cheerful, gay, and smile,
we'll do the fighting now,
and the voting after awhile,
and then we'll show oppressors
that they may fell dismay,
who treated us as serviles,
at fifty cents a day.
This poem was written by my great, great, great, grandfather when he was a POW in the civil war. He wrote this during the month of December 1863. I wanted to share this with everyone in memory of him.
poem by Shauna Stoltz
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In 1973, women got 59 cents on the dollar; now we are getting 74 cents on the dollar. In the area of finance and business, we are at 68 cents on the dollar.
quote by Billie Jean King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosanna and 40 cents
Rosanna was my schoolmate
Sharing the same classroom for four years
When we first met, I was afraid
Something of her that I feared
She’s bigger and taller
Beautiful like a mayflower
Looked at me like I was her little brother
But deep inside, treated me like her lover
We were together
Everywhere thereafter
Was talk of the school
It was cool
To be labeled
As the most ideal couple
What’s made me attractive to her?
My principality and discipline
60 cents a day given by mother
20 cents a day for fried banana and a drink
At school, that was my daily meals
It’s a frill and thrill
When you can save 40 cents
It would make sense
The result will come in the end
Between Rosanna and 40 cents
She definitely will understand
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Momentary Contact With This Slight Inconvenience
With trillions of dollars in debt.
There are still some people,
Who are hopeful...
The price of gas will lower below a dollar.
A loaf of bread,
Will be twenty five cents again.
A push cart will be full of groceries...
For less than twenty dollars.
And what is being experienced now,
Is not a crisis!
It's a temporary slugfest...
With someone bashing them over the head,
With a ton of bricks.
However...
This 'momentary' contact with this slight 'inconvenience'
Is being addressed and will be taken care of...
As soon as it becomes recognized as a severe condition!
And folks are hopeful these sentiments expressed,
Are being made in the utmost of honesty!
Their lifestyles will return them to Utopia!
'Oh,
I sure hope so.
We must not accept negative thinking!
You know how that can play tricks on the mind?
Better times are coming back.
The gasoline is 'almost' below four dollars now! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lantern
he lit his lantern and
walked out on the porch,
with his old dog
by his side....
he could see the wind
walking through the trees,
wrapped in the stillness
and comfort of darkness...
how long had it been?
25 cents a gallon gasoline,
Marlboros,25 cents a pack!
working all week for 55 dollars....
sawmills, factories, milking cows,
a hoe and a gallon jar of water.
hanging the gears on his old truck...
cold beer, making love all night....
civil unrest and high ideals,
bulletproof, with a taste for danger.
then the children came... working
more for less... till he became invisible....
and the world careened into madness,
enough was never enough....
and all his dreams fell to dust.....
the wings of the eagle rusted.
standing alone, with his dog,
peering into the night....
listening to whispering ghosts....
listening... for the voice of love....
for the sound of his
own heart beating!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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$10 a Gallon?
$10 a gallon?
For what?
'Does that really matter now?
When it approached
One dollar per gallon...
You should have voiced your concern then!
Not when your pockets have gotten thin.
And deepened to hold more lint!
You want to make cents?
Put these sunglasses on.
Grab a twig from a bush...
And get to begging!
MAYBE...
You might gain some sympathy,
From someone who recognizes you are in disguise.
And they are in the mood,
To share with you their good attitude.
IF they have some of 'that' left! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66
If you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, take the highway that's the best
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
It winds from Chicago to LA
More than two thousand miles all the way
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Now you go through Saint Looey
Joplin, Missouri
And Oklahoma City looks mi-ighty pretty
You'll see Amarillo
Gallup, New Mexico
Flagstaff, Arizona
Don't forget Winona
Kingman, Barstow, San Bernandino
Won't you get hip to this timely tip
When you make that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Won't you get hip to this ti-imely tip
When you make a-that California trip
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
A-get your kicks on Route sixty-six
Get your kicks on Route sixty-six
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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69
Flying through the night in a beat up wagon
A mike stand up my jacksy
Give me a beer and Ill stand on a chair
And slip into something sexy
Black cat woolwich, the tigers head
The cafe des artistes, the revolution and the bag o nails
Ill see you down the speak
Your ma said you slept real good in your food last nigth
But you couldnt hold it down
And you broke up a damn good fight
Ligging at the old marquee, spinning jack a line
Even he knew better than me, back in sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
Sixty nine, sixty nine
On the road to paradiso
Back of your head, got to pay some dues
Rugged looked down as the thames swallowed
His life at the boathouse, kew
Hot girls, no ac, cheap tv, sleep on the floor
Hallelujah whats a roadie, hush my baby sleep no more
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hook
I was only a young man
In those days. On that evening
The cold was so God damned
Bitter there was nothing.
Nothing. I was in trouble
With a woman, and there was nothing
There but me and dead snow.
I stood on the street corner
In Minneapolis, lashed
This way and that.
Wind rose from some pit,
Hunting me.
Another bus to Saint Paul
Would arrive in three hours,
If I was lucky.
Then the young Sioux
Loomed beside me, his scars
Were just my age.
Ain't got no bus here
A long time, he said.
You got enough money
To get home on?
What did they do
To your hand? I answered.
He raised up his hook into the terrible starlight
And slashed the wind.
Oh, that? he said.
I had a bad time with a woman. Here,
You take this.
Did you ever feel a man hold
Sixty-five cents
In a hook,
And place it
Gently
In your freezing hand?
I took it.
It wasn't the money I needed.
But I took it.
poem by James Arlington Wright
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When Your Money (Is Worthless)
what are you going to do,
when your money is worthless?
when it wont buy anything?
not a loaf of bread,
not a jug of water...
not even a gallon of gas!
when you're left alone
in the dark, with no one
to count on by yourself,
with no friends,
no instant gratification...
what are you going to do?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cents of Humor
A cents of humor is worth much more than gold.
It’ll keep you young while worrying about metal will make you old.
Though gold’s price may go higher, it won’t make the day sunny.
But a cents of humor will summon the rays and make your days funny.
You’ll never control how much gold will be worth.
However, you are in charge of the value of your mirth.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Short Story
He was a boy
Who felt like a man
She was a girl
From a far away land
Far more beautiful
Than the picture in his hand
She had eyes
That would draw him in
They took a plane ride
Together they would find
Her long lost smile
They went home again
Back to her friends
Back to repair her heart
He loved this girl
With all of his heart
He wanted her mind
Her secrets and her trust
She would never do him any harm
He'd give her the world
If it sat in his palm
One rainy day
It was dark in the sky
She turned and she said to him
With grey in her eyes
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
His heart turned to liquid
And it trickled from his eyes
All he could do now
At this point in his life
Was to go home again
Back to his friends
Back to repair his heart
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Short Story
He was a boy
Who felt like a man
She was a girl
From a far away land
Far more beautiful
Than the picture in his hand
She had eyes
That would draw him in
They took a plane ride
Together they would find
Her long lost smile
They went home again
Back to her friends
Back to repair her heart
He loved this girl
With all of his heart
He wanted her mind
Her secrets and her trust
She would never do him any harm
He'd give her the world
If it sat in his palm
One rainy day
It was dark in the sky
She turned and she said to him
With grey in her eyes
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
His heart turned to liquid
And it trickled from his eyes
All he could do now
At this point in his life
Was to go home again
Back to his friends
Back to repair his heart
Go home again
Go back to your friends
Go back and repair your heart
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome Home Soldier
Coming home, so many beside me
But so alone
So many friends that helped to guide me
Now on my own
The soldier I chose to be
To fight for the free
The price to pay, I know today
Lives on in me
Many friends from my small town
They gather, they surround
They welcome me back home
But part of me is not around
Part of me is hearing heart beats
Of friends that fought with me
I watched them fall for freedoms call
They haunt me all
Coming home, friends reach out to me
They welcome me home
Surrounded by so many, but none to guide me
So alone.
poem by Bill Simmons
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A woman's two cents worth is worth two cents in the music business.
quote by Loretta Lynn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Route 66
(word & lyrics by bobby troup)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway that is best.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
It winds from chicago to la,
More than two thousand miles all the way.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Now you go through saint looey
Joplin, missouri,
And oklahoma city is mighty pretty.
You see amarillo,
Gallup, new mexico,
Flagstaff, arizona.
Dont forget winona,
Kingman, barstow, san bernandino.
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Solo
Wont you get hip to this timely tip:
When you make that california trip
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
Get your kicks on route sixty-six.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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