Related quotes: Travelling by means of an...

World's Woes - Child’s Play

Travelling by means of an affordable magazine
from Demi Moore, open marriage to Kutcher who
had to make his babies elsewhere and thus lost
the delight of his broad-minded wife who meant
freedom to breed is only her prerogative

To Designer Coffins for glorious burial, a son beating
cancer just to be killed by a wild group of teenagers
at night, an Indonesian man ravaged by a mystery
tumour disease, a Limo truck with a 14 million rand
bathtub – into the jaws of a Crocodile lurking

In Russia where would-be suicidees, despondent
because they have so much less than Demi Moore
cannot grow skeleton-slim because their husband
cottoned-on to the meaning of open relationship,
desperate because they cannot afford

Designer Coffins or take a ride in a Limo truck; did
not get cancer or were killed at night by belligerent
teenagers nor managed to be ravaged by a mystery
Indonesian disease; inject lethal mixtures of codeine,
paint thinner, gasoline, hydrochloric acid

Phosphorous and iodine so their flesh turns scaly and
green and peels away from the bone while entertaining
its owners by forming black holes in their bodies until
they end up with gangrene, iodine messing up their
endocrine system, metals causing corrosion and

Shut-down of liver and kidneys, phosphorous destroying
bone-tissue; wow, such existential pain in the desolation
of post-communist Russia, makes the rest of the world’s
woes seem child’s play by comparison…

“People” SA’s affordable weekly, December 18,2011,
Vol 20 No 50 - Quotes from many articles and specifically
p 56 Warren Robertson “Into the Jaws of a Krokodil”

poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes

Iodine

I need you, I knew I was in danger
Of losing what I used to think was mine
You let me love you till I was a failure
Your beauty on my bruise like iodine
I asked you if a man could be forgiven
And though I failed at love, was this a crime?
You said, dont worry, dont worry, darling
There are many ways a man can serve his time
You covered up that place I could not master
It wasnt dark enough to shut my eyes
So I was with you, oh sweet compassion
Compassion with the sting of iodine
Your saintly kisses reeked of iodine
Your fragrance with fume of iodine
And pity in the room like iodine
Your sister fingers burned like iodine
And all my wanton lust was iodine
My masquerade of trust was iodine
And everywhere the flare of iodine

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life and Cancer

Life and Cancer
Do you have an answer?
Strange how life passes you faster
With the presence of unwanted cancer

A mild tumour, a brain tumour, a breast tumour
None of that bestows on to life any best humour
With this forbidden disease called cancer
Tissues divide and grow like crazy dancers

Doctors abruptly said he had five months to live
Like a wild fire, cancer has spread barbarically actively
O! Life, why have you trapped him as a depressed captive
His psychological state of mind bears sadness pensively

He marvels with words flowing
Was it not better not knowing
Than knowing when one is going
Without knowing where one is going

Life and Cancer
Do you have an answer?
He spends each irretrievable day, one day at a time
O! Life, Cancer has done him an unbelievable crime

The pain is immoderately insane
Worse than lighting, thunder and rain
And his hope stands very often in vain
Waiting for a cure, composite or plain

The simple facts in life which are true
Is he pictures life with much more value
Someone, someone out there will survive
And the victory for cancer will be deprived

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Closer to Happiness

What do you get when you run away from
a predator? You get exactly what I'm
writing about: something chasing after
you. Not letting you go.

Walk around the house,
It's sunny outside.
It's nice,
Warm,
Pretty.
Then I hear the first of the
Trucks and I know
It's not going to end well.

No matter how far I get,
It always catches up to me.

I keep running.
Running away from all the hurt,
All the pain,
All the pessimism and all the suffering.
I keep running.
Running away from all the death,
All the heartbreak,
All the cancer and all the disease.
Trying to get farther from all that,
Closer to happiness.

He was a truck driver,
We saw him every once in a while.
It was nice,
Something we could rely on,
Then his cancer acted up again,
The chemo and radiation started,
And being a pessimist really sucked.
Being a realist sucks even more.

No matter how far I get,
It always catches up with me.

Nowadays, I have my friends.
I have my good days where I'm just a normal
realist.
I have my bad days, where I fight back the
pessimism that threatens to take over.
Here comes realism.
And.

No matter how far I get,
It always catches up to me.

Passing on my knowledge
as a realist is amazing.
Many don't know what really goes
on out there,
In this world we live in.
But once,
just once,
Can I please stay
Closer to happiness?

poem by Raven Lightner
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A strong heart

A robust heart is not bliss but a curse.
It will witness decays and failures
Of kidneys, lungs, liver, nerves or cancer.
Causing miserable sufferings till death.
14.08.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Sharecropper's Pantoum

'The drug cocktails that have slashed the mortality rate of HIV-positive people in the U.S. and Western Europe are all but non-existent in Haiti. [O]nly 3 to 4 percent of people with AIDS [there] have access to the newest drugs.'
-The Chicago Tribune,2003

Hauling this pine box on a black Chevrolet,
I pray to a candle at the end of its wick.
White burial clothes in a garbage bag,
I ride for a place to die.

I pray to a candle at the end of its wick
on the mud road home from Port-au-Prince
and ride toward a place to die
where mangoes hang and sugarcane turns.

By the dust road home from Port-au-Prince,
I am a black skeleton—6 feet tall, yet 90 pounds—
where mangoes hang and sugarcane burns.
I turned the earth before I got this thing.

A lesioned skeleton—a rainbow tall, now 70 pounds—
I dream across the waters and of the miracles there
and turn to earth in the jaws of this thing:
eyes—black holes, lungs—green clouds.

Dreaming across the waters and of the miracles there,
white burial clothes in a garbage bag,
eyes—black holes, lungs—green clouds,
I haul my pine coffin in a black Chevrolet.

poem by M. Ayodele Heath
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Who Killed Davey Moore?

Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not i, says the referee,
Dont point your finger at me.
I couldve stopped it in the eighth
An maybe kept him from his fate,
But the crowd wouldve booed, Im sure,
At not gettin their moneys worth.
Its too bad he had to go,
But there was a pressure on me too, you know.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not us, says the angry crowd,
Whose screams filled the arena loud.
Its too bad he died that night
But we just like to see a fight.
We didnt mean for him t meet his death,
We just meant to see some sweat,
There aint nothing wrong in that.
It wasnt us that made him fall.
No, you cant blame us at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says his manager,
Puffing on a big cigar.
Its hard to say, its hard to tell,
I always thought that he was well.
Its too bad for his wife an kids hes dead,
But if he was sick, he shouldve said.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the gambling man,
With his ticket stub still in his hand.
It wasnt me that knocked him down,
My hands never touched him none.
I didnt commit no ugly sin,
Anyway, I put money on him to win.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the boxing writer,
Pounding print on his old typewriter,
Sayin, boxing aint to blame,
Theres just as much danger in a football game.
Sayin, fist fighting is here to stay,
Its just the old american way.
It wasnt me that made him fall.
No, you cant blame me at all.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?
Not me, says the man whose fists
Laid him low in a cloud of mist,
Who came here from cubas door
Where boxing aint allowed no more.
I hit him, yes, its true,
But thats what I am paid to do.
Dont say murder, dont say kill.
It was destiny, it was gods will.
Who killed davey moore,
Why an whats the reason for?

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Cancer

A little more has died
A life so disguised
A million masks
One for each day
So happy
I got all the answers
One of them is my cancer

A world full of blood
All for what we call love
So we can fake it
So we can take it
It's all ours

A little more has died
But at least I can say I tried
A million tasks
One for each day
So busy
No time for answers
I already got one, Its called cancer

A world for the innocent
A road to the oblivion
A mouth full of razor blades
So cut up
Mangled by the verbal
Some words are best left unsaid
Better for the undead

A little more has died
A child wonder why
A million people have asked
One for each day
So much agony
Looking for all the right answers
But I got is this cancer

Another tragedy
An accident that can't be undone
A noose hanging off the wall
A phone rings
But nobody's there to answer the call

A little more has died
Another lost soul has been denied
A million that will never last
One for each day
So angry
No more answers
All I got left is my cancer

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The truth is you can have a great marriage, but there are still no guarantees.

quote by Demi Moore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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the big C

those who fear it cannot call it
by its own name

big C for cancer,
but cancer is cancer
no more no less
depends on what stage
then you are taken
as the next
victim by an old
expert culprit
so unforgiving
mercilessly taking the lives
of those
destined to die

cancer is cancer
no more no less

a friend of mine dies
today of cancer of the
liver.

period. I say another prayer.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.

quote by Oprah Winfrey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Avoiding A Rejection

take a part of your
pelvic bone

close your eyes
let someone take
the flesh

and bone to bone
of your own bone

let it grow
smoothly

to get rid of the pain
and start anew

bone to bone
of my contention
following yours
nothing
opposing
blood following
the flow

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Avoid Rejection

take a part of your
pelvic bone

close your eyes
let someone take
the flesh

and bone to bone
of your own bone

let it grow
smoothly

to get rid of the pain
and start anew

bone to bone
of my contention
following yours
nothing
opposing
blood following
the flow

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Popular..

Many teenagers think
That being popular should be with the way you dress
The way you walk
The way you attract the boys
And the way you make the noise
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by the way you treat the others with full disrepute
Or by being very thin and cute
Many teenagers think
That being popular is all about the way you talk about the others
Or if you’re wearing a silky top or shoes made out of leather
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by despising the quiet ones and making fun of the weird
And also to show that they can never be scared or feared
Many teenagers think
That being popular is by showing of your new jeans and vest
And many teenagers think
That being popular is a way to prove that you are the finest and best.

poem by Marria Attar
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Go Green, Soylent Green

It’s matter of fact that earth is going green,
From major corporations to the fluorescent household light bulb,
To the way of life that is to be seen,
After death going green is already in progress for funeral parlors in the UK,
And that is a hit,
- it’s the rage,

Cardboard coffins, clothes sewn from natural fibers, a burial plot in a natural setting.
Green funerals attempt to be eco-friendly at every stage.

It makes a terrific do-it-yourself project,
To have one built from designer cardboard,
-sewn paper bags I would reject,
On ones pocket book that should be breather,

'The trouble is, they are a bit ungainly to use, ' said Oakfield Wood burial ground director Oliver Peacock. 'They're not terribly easy to handle and if it's wet, they don't look their best either.'

Better than being forced to give up one’s life,
To be made into some kind of multi-biochemical compound,
To make the survivors at ease with their strife,
Your last moments so serene,
To Go Soylent Green.

(4-20-08)

poem by Joe Rosochacki
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The God Of Gasoline!

for every gallon of gasoline...
how many children killed?
how many families destroyed
by the bombs?
how many countries ravaged,
how many peoples left
to live in abject poverty?
how many of your own sons
sent to battle,
killed or maimed?
how much pollution in the air?
how many oceans defiled?
how much sea life squandered?
how many political lies told?
how much hatred spread?
how many fat cats getting fatter?
how many hours of work?

gasoline...
the god of food supplies,
transportation and jobs,
even the farm machinery...
the big trucks...
and how much of your check?

there has to be a better way!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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for JOJI on terminal cancer

i have no courage to see her.
But i imagine that she is bald,
and in pain, and always taking
that pain relievers.
I imagine that.
Who knows, i may be wrong.
Not all cancers are painful. Perhaps.
But most cancers are painful.
That bone, that marrow,
the pain that lingers even in the
middle in the night when everyone
would be soundly sleeping with
their loved ones.
I have seen those with brain cancers
how they hit their heads on
the cemented walls
to ease the pain
those bloated stomachs
afflicted with liver cancer.
Cancer is pain. And Joji must
be suffering it by now.
She must be bald
for her locks of hair
must have fallen to the pillow
part of that
chemotherapy side effects.
But i think i know Joji.
She is a strong woman
with a sense of humor
with laughter always on
her face
she has the will to be herself
despite the sickness
till death, perhaps,
i know that she will not change
i know that she will not
let the cancer defeat her
innate goodness
her confidence to herself
her faith in God
i know that she will always
be smiling
not minding the pain
and the uncertainties.
I know that she is not
afraid.

Upon saying all these
to comfort her
in her Face-book Account,
it is me
who fears most,
for after all,
i may not be able to live
what i am
saying to her.

God! Oh God!
Have mercy upon us all!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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for JOJI on terminal cancer (revised)

i have no courage to see her.
But i imagine that she is bald,
and in pain, and always taking
those pain relievers.
I imagine that.
Who knows, i may be wrong.
Not all cancers are painful. Perhaps.
But most cancers are painful.
That bone, that marrow,
the pain that lingers even in the
middle in the night when everyone
would be soundly sleeping with
their loved ones.
I have seen those with brain cancers
how they hit their heads on
the cemented walls
to ease the pain
those bloated stomachs
afflicted with liver cancer.

Cancer is pain. And Joji must
be suffering it by now.
She must be bald
for her locks of hair
must have fallen to the pillow
part of that
chemotherapy side effects.

But i think i know Joji.
She is a strong woman
with a sense of humor
with laughter always on
her face
she has the will to be herself
despite the sickness
till death, perhaps,
i know that she will not change
i know that she will not
let the cancer defeat her
innate goodness
her confidence to herself
her faith in God
i know that she will always
be smiling
not minding the pain
and the uncertainties.
I know that she is not
afraid.

Upon saying all these
to comfort her
in her Face-book Account,
it is me
who fears most,
for after all,
i may not be able to live
what i am
saying to her.

God! Oh God!
Have mercy upon us all!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I would sell 2 million records, a million went to teenagers and a million went to the adults. So, when The Beatles became so popular, I lost a million to the teenagers, but I was still selling a million to the adults.

quote by Bobby Vinton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm sure there are a lot of people who think I'm a bitch.

quote by Demi Moore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Acid Reflux Anyone

Larissa Schuster, she was the cause of her husband’s acid reflux,
In fact she had husband refluxed all over his body,
Her attitude for him did not come clean,
- that’s why she gave him an acid bath.
'So what’s to you, there nothing wrong with that',
she would have said,
'hydrochloric acid to be exact'.

Larissa Schuster was biochemist that used her balance of pH’s for murder.
She had to get rid of him,
she loathed him,
and she thought she would be free,
When her husband met the end.
Hydrochloric Acid is the same acid that we have in our stomachs,
But all the TUMS in the world could not have saved him.

Kind of gruesome,
to some,
- but not to her.
She will spend her life prison at taxpayer’s expense,
Too bad the gas chamber is outlawed-
Because the cyanide capsule is dropped to sulfuric bath,
She can be an experiment in the chamber,
Like she did to her husband,
She can feel her lungs melt and then justice will be served,
There is nothing wrong with that.

(12-18-2007)

poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

World's Woes - Child’s Play

Related quotes

Iodine

Life and Cancer

Closer to Happiness

A strong heart

A Sharecropper's Pantoum

Who Killed Davey Moore?

My Cancer

the big C

Avoiding A Rejection

To Avoid Rejection

Popular..

Go Green, Soylent Green

The God Of Gasoline!

for JOJI on terminal cancer

for JOJI on terminal cancer (revised)

Acid Reflux Anyone

En.Citatepedia^®.ro