Listening to a Drunk Complain about His Wife
There is a man sat at the bar
Complaining about his wife
How she continually finds jobs for him
Never allowing a moments rest
How he loathes the shopping trips
Standing around while she tries on dresses
Fifteen shops and back to the first
Still not a purchase made
Is the result of an afternoon wasted
He continues to complain drinking on
Saying how he wishes to be alone
I laugh knowing full well the difference
Knowing the lonely nights
The feeling of needing someone to talk to
Dining on a simple meal for one
Late night television being a companion
I’d trade it all to walk around shops
Complain about doing jobs
And whatever meal is prepared for me
The is a man sat drinking at the bar
He complains about his wife
And all I can think to say
You don’t know how lucky you are
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Related quotes
Der mann im keller
How cool and fair this cellar where
My throne a dusky cask is;
To do no thing but just to sing
And drown the time my task is.
The cooper he's
Resolved to please,
And, answering to my winking,
He fills me up
Cup after cup
For drinking, drinking, drinking.
Begrudge me not
This cosy spot
In which I am reclining--
Why, who would burst
With envious thirst,
When he can live by wining.
A roseate hue seems to imbue
The world on which I'm blinking;
My fellow-men--I love them when
I'm drinking, drinking, drinking.
And yet I think, the more I drink,
It's more and more I pine for--
Oh, such as I (forever dry)
God made this land of Rhine for;
And there is bliss
In knowing this,
As to the floor I'm sinking:
I've wronged no man
And never can
While drinking, drinking, drinking.
poem by Eugene Field
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Jobs?
Jobs?
They don't want jobs.
Not the ones they exclaim,
Can make a down payment...
On credited fantasies.
And they want to be able to pay for them.
They want money.
And lots of it.
They are above pushing a broom.
They've been spoiled by 'entitlements'.
That's why those who created those jobs,
Found a cheaper way to produce their products...
Now being made overseas.
With more sweating they get,
From grateful and pleasant employees.
Not discussing their retirement plans,
Or increments of expected raises.
Those employers wanting to survive,
Have prioritized their needs as well.
With a paying of those interested in creating quality...
And not those more involved,
In discussing where they vacation...
During a two hour lunch break.
While complaining what the boss makes...
Or who shops where for a price making eyes pop.
As they within eight hours do exactly what they please.
To leave a job before it is time...
Completing nothing that is due.
Jobs?
They had jobs.
And complained 'aliens' were taking them away.
When blacks began getting tips waiting on tables,
It was soon discovered how they were no longer qualified,
To do menial work.
Since 'some' folks began to realize,
Those menial positions could become very lucrative.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Im Drinking Again
(ry cooder & jim keltner)
Yes, its me and Im drinking again
Tell everybody Im drinking again
Doctor said itd kill me
But he didnt say when
Have mercy, Im drinking again
Yes, its me and Im drinking again
Id like to dry out but I doubt if I can
My baby said shed quit me but she didnt say when
cause Im drinking again
Working two jobs, tryin to get straight
Dont need the money, just want to lose weight
Gonna get you all the things that you lack
Diamond ring and a red cadillac
Came home drunk and pushed you around
Dont you quit me baby, dont you put me down
Ill never do it again
Ill never do it again
Ill never do it again
I promise this time
I came home last night about half past four
Whole neighborhood was rocking out on my floor
And my baby was working up under the sheet
With a teenage boy that lives down the street
I grabbed a bottle, he grabbed a gun
I heard somebody holler: shoot him fore he runs
And thats the reason why Im drinking again
Tell everybody Im drinking again
You cant lick em and you just cant win
Yes, its me and Im drinking again
Aint it enough to start you drinking again
We got to live in a world full of sin
Thank you jesus for what you have done
Im sick and tired tryin to be number one
Change my suit, change my shirt
Change what I dig and get out of the dirt
Ill never do it again
Ill never do it again
Im going to get back in my gin
Im drinking again
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Avenue Of Love
(9/24/12)
Love is an avenue of which to explore
Go to any shop and open the door
Shops for every feeling known to man
Walk in to understand.
Shops for pain, sorrow, bitterness and heartbreak
Shop around - it's not to late.
Shops for joy, happiness, contentment, devotion
Shops for every emotion.
Stop in - look around - feel every emotion
That can be found.
Shop around ahead of time
To find out what awaits down the line.
But do not be fearful of pains
That may await
Take the chance - don't hesitate.
You can search every shop that's on this street
But there is nothing that can compete
To the love that you have deep inside
A love so beautiful that you can not hide
All these shops are in your soul
Open the doors and life unfolds.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
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Today (album Mix)
I'm saying good morning but it's not that way
I should be blaming the weather today
Or is it that noisy sledge hammer
Of my freaky neighbor
It's kinda early to talk right now
Later on we can work it out
So why don't you understand
That I'm off the hook and wanna be alone
All I want is breakfast right now
To get this morning rolling on somehow
I begining to smile with cheesecake (?)
Now I feel awake and so I
Just don't care
Although that somebody drives without care
It was sunny but now it's raining
And I wonder why I'm complaining cause
I am standing proudly today
There is nothing to complain of
and everything will roll on
I am standing proudly today
And there is no special reason
that makes me smile throughout the seasons
I am standing proudly today
There is nothing to complain of
and everything will roll on
I am standing proudly today
Because I'm feeling happy inside
and it is building on my outside
Suddenly I can feel the sunny rays
Even though it's cloudy today
Took their mind off of the noisy sledge hammer
of my freaky neighbor
I know that it becomes kinda tough
Holding back not blowing up
If there's a discussion
I try to hold on
Avoiding all distractions
It's not a matter of wrong or right
There's no winner when there's a fight
I can tell that I'm feeling lighter
Everything is brighter and so I
Just don't care
Although that somebody drives without care
It was sunny but now it's raining
And I wonder why I'm complaining cause
I am standing proudly today
There is nothing to complain of
and everything will roll on
I am standing proudly today
And there is no special reason
that makes me smile throughout the seasons
I am standing proudly today
There is nothing to complain of
and everything will roll on
I am standing proudly today
Because I'm feeling happy inside
and it is building on my outside
(Scat part)
I am standing proudly today
(I dont know what he says)
I am standing proudly today
(Don't know what he says)
song performed by by Eiffel 65
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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10 Days Late
Click your heals
And feel you come for me
Care free shes got something big to tell me
At the ocean
Talk back at the ocean
Theres no simple way
To let you know
Funny how she always cried out daddy
I got a big surprise she said
Im in trouble now
And it cannot wait
Shes ten days late
Boy your life got complicated
Well I cant wait
To see this through
Shes ten days late
Ten days late
Low ride bicycles go cruising by
I laugh
I dont even know why
Talk back at the ocean
Consequence and ozone
Catch a glow
Oh no baby oh no no
Give me a minute now
To figure out my state
Oh I know
Shes ten days late
And I dont know
Where to take it
But its still great
Knowing you
Shes ten days late
Ten days late
Choir time has come for you to choose
Baby daddies keep your boo
Many blessings come to you
Baby daddy keep your boo end choir
Your eyes look to me for what to do
I cant lie
I dont know
At the ocean
Talk back at the ocean
No ones laughing
Now what do I say
I walk away but oh no
Dont go
At the ocean
Talk back at the ocean
Give me a minute now
To figure out my state
Shes ten days late
And Im never going to fade it
I guess Ill always be
Knowing you
Knowing you
Knowing you
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Knowing
There is a danger of knowing too much
knowing too much danger
Crossing a road without looking
Taking a risk with your cooking
A danger in knowing
There is a danger in knowing too much
Having digitalised lives
synched to computer
GOOGLED
There is a danger
Is there a danger in knowing?
Too much danger?
Too much knowing?
Too much?
we have/are becoming
More like a shopping mall
Packed full of brands
And gadgets
our apps additives
There is a danger of losing your child
In a shopping mall
Losing your self
In the underground
A danger in knowing
A danger in looking
The sign
The times
Are a changing
A danger of unseeing
Unliving
A danger of touching the edge of extinction
Without feeling
Bottled emotions
Formaladehyde Brains
Mask for a face
Stone for a heart
There is on a lighter note
A danger in eating my cooking
Knowing too much
Too soon
Too late
or a danger of knowing nothing
Simply eating what's arrived on your plate
poem by Yvette Smith
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How They Do That! And, Survive
I've begun to notice those same people,
Were standing on this corner yesterday.
And now they are on that corner.
What's going on?
'Neither one of us are doing too much,
If I agree we both notice...
People with nothing to do,
But move from one side of the street...
To the other.'
Yeah?
But there is a difference.
'And what is that?
We both still have our jobs.'
You're right.
We complain everyday about the same routine.
To do nothing else,
But notice the same people do nothing...
As you put it.
'Like I said.
There is a difference.
We are getting paid to do nothing.'
And very soon,
Guess what?
'What? '
We might, one day...
Be asking them how they do that!
And, survive.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Supermarket
I paid a visit to the shops,
On the arrival my wits died;
Money was exercised and I was made,
My own business stayed in the eyes,
The money made me rich and also richer.
No game was in the air, the shops,
The shops, and more shops.
This was a supermarket bustling with goods,
Food employed me to encounter it,
The wit of dying came to ruins,
The care of dying was living,
And this was the supermarket.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Lap Of Luxury
I work all day and I work all night 4x
I work all day and I work all night
I work so my wife and kids will have a pleasant life
I work as many jobs as I can
Im proud to work I guess Im just a working man
-who am I to complain
I live in the lap of luxury
I got a car and a big tv thats so fine
I go to the pictures when I can
-the pictures take me to far-away lands
-almost makes me forget who I am
Sometimes at work Ive a fantasy
That Im a man who livesa life of mystery
(but) then the whistle brings me to
I cant forget why Im here, Ive got a job to do
-responsibility- is much more important to a man like me
I work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night - etc. etc.
Guitar solo
I got a job at the factory
But I dont mind cause I know that the job is right for me
I dont complain Im satisfied
And I dont care to rub elbows with the wealthy
Theyve got their problems too, I dont envy them a bit dont ya know
Im doin what I want and it aint so bas
Ive got everything that a man could have
(Im) living in the lap of luxury - living in the lap of luxury
Work all day and I work all night
I work all day and I work all night etc. etc.
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Army Wife
Sleepless nights
Hard long days
Not knowing if he has lived through another day
Not hearing his voice
Not feeling his touch
A simple wish doesn't bring him home
A simple question is all you have to hold
Is he still alive?
Watching the news
Scared and praying
That his name isn't the one you hear
Can't stop crying
Feels like you're dying
Word comes of his survival
Hope is there
Faith is there
Your love has gotten him through the darkest of days
A silent rank is all I have
He has the real pride
Filled with no fear
Just pride
Pride for his country
Pride for his wife is still there
An army wife is what I am
And an army wife is what I will always be.
poem by Kristin Van Horn
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Maggie and Max
Our son married a flibbertygibbet,
my wife says, and I agree,
but he loves Maggie very much
so I say let's keep quiet.
It's not our place to criticize.
Max is 33, and not long
back from Iraq.
I remind my wife
that Maggie can cook
better than most
so let's give her a chance.
Max works two jobs
and he's never home.
Maggie's young.
Maybe the baby will help
but I doubt it.
Too bad Maggie
didn't take to quilting,
my wife points out.
The ladies at church
did their best to teach her.
But quilters, I remind her,
don't go out at midnight
to places nobody knows.
My wife keeps asking
why Max married Maggie.
I don't know what to say.
Finally I tell her I never saw
any woman walk like Maggie.
My wife says I never will.
poem by Donal Mahoney
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My Wife Is A Most Knowing Woman
My wife is a most knowing woman,
She always is finding me out,
She never will hear explanations
But instantly puts me to rout,
There's no use to try and deceive her,
If out with my friends night or day,
In a most inconceivable manner,
She tells where I've been right away,
She says that I'm 'mean' and 'inhuman.'
Oh! My wife is a most knowing woman.
She would've been hung up for witchcraft
If she had lived sooner, I know,
There's no hiding anything from her,
She knows what I do -- where I go;
And if I come in after midnight
And say 'I have been to the lodge,'
Oh, she says while she flies in a fury,
'Now don't think to play such a dodge!
It's all very fine, but won't do, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Not often I go out to dinner
And come home a little 'so so,'
I try to creep up through the hall-way,
As still as a mouse, on tip-toe,
She's sure to be waiting up for me
And then comes a nice little scene,
'What, you tell me you're sober, you wretch you,
Now don't think that I am so green!
My life is quite worn out with you, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman!
She knows me much better than I do,
Her eyes are like those of a lynx,
Though how she discovers my secrets
Is a riddle would puzzle a sphynx,
On fair days, when we go out walking,
If ladies look at me askance,
In the most harmless way, I assure you,
My wife gives me, oh! such a glance,
And says 'all these insults you'll rue, man,'
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
Yes, I must give all of my friends up
If I would live happy and quiet;
One might as well be 'neath a tombstone
As live in confusion and riot.
This life we all know is a short one,
While some tongues are long, heaven knows,
And a miserable life is a husband's
Who numbers his wife with his foes;
I'll stay at home now like a true man,
Oh, my wife is a most knowing woman.
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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Must I Complain, O God, I Pray?
When you made me by love thine,
And called me sweetly by my name,
And wrote it in your palm divine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you chose me for job fine,
And gave me breath in special way,
And made me walk on earth, ravine,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you led me through hill, vale,
And desert, plain, seasons umptine,
And kept me safe through flood and hale,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you watched o'er me night, day,
And fed, clothed, sheltered me all life,
And held me by right hand en way,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you suffered, died on cross,
And resurrected on third day,
And wait for me with Father Boss,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
When you are Almighty God,
And love to see my soul back pure,
And fair in judgment, just in rod,
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Must I complain, O God, I pray?
Fondly dedicated to my dear elder sister,
Miss. Noeline Mary Clemencia BSc., B.T.,
On her birthday today
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-02-'12
poem by John Celes
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The Body
the eyes complain
about the brows that
they dont curve
the right way
the lips complain
about the teeth
that they are not
uniform in stature
for a real show
the heart complains
about the libido that
it is too tiresome
and cyclical to
entertain
the brain grumbles
about itself for being
too slow to absorb
the world
the fingers complain
about the itching back
that it is too far away
to scratch
and the legs,
they cannot even run
as fast as they wish
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Dave ~ On Your Retirement
Dave has driven our Minibus
Twice weekly to the shops,
And assisted our Residents,
With many little jobs.
For almost fifteen years,
At Cherry Tree Court he's been,
And his pleasant disposition,
By All ~ could be seen.
But now he is Retiring,
This week will be his last Trip,
Taking the Residents shopping,
Helping them ~ lest they slip.
I am a relative Newcomer,
To Cherry Tree in March, I came,
I do not yet need the bus,
~ But, I'll miss him just the same.
His Cheery Disposition,
His Gentle Caring Ways,
May he have a Happy Retirement,
Until the End of His Days.
Copyright (c) Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 11 June 2007
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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The Mall
Shops, snack bars
Chains of shops
To chain you to shopping
Lights, gleaming paint
Amusements galore
Kids hang out
At the mall
The modern day
Consumer fair
Built, just to consume
YOU
poem by Jason Palmer
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Ghost Town
This town is becoming like a ghost town;
Many of our local shops are closing down.
Once upon a time, this town was really hopping,
But now people go elsewhere for their shopping.
The life from our town has been sucked out,
And nowadays there is hardly anyone about.
Local people go to other towns and cities:
That it has ended up this way, is a real pity.
The town's population is rapidly growing,
But trade in our shops is rapidly slowing.
Many units stand empty for years and years:
Owners found the rents were just way too dear.
We need some life breathed back into town;
We need to turn this situation back around.
Of help for new businesses, we need much more,
So that our town can be the place it was before.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Crying Shame
I cried all night just thinking of you
I wonder now what Im going to do
Since you left me for that friend of mine
Every second is just crying time
I cry cos my heart is in pain
I cry though I know its in vain
But knowing this I cry all the same
I wake at night crying out your name
You said that youd never leave
I never listened that you were a tease
People talk about me behind my back
They dont understand its the passion they lack
People go around and whisper my name
They think its a laugh because I never complain
But to my face they are always the same
They dont understand its a crying shame
You always sais that you needed me,
Exactly what for I find it hard to see
Ive sat up all night wishing you were still mine
Now I understand theres better things to do with my time
I cry cos my heart is in pain
I cry though I know its in vain
But knowing this I cry all the same
I wake at night crying out your name
I cry each night with tears in my eyes
I cant believe you are telling me lies
People go around whispering my name
Dont they know its a crying shame
I cry cos my heart is in pain
I cry though I know its in vain
But knowing this I cry all the same
I wake at night crying out your name
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Max Wanted
What do you want from me?
Max's wife said
and he looked by her
at the waitress
at the cafe
who was walking
with some order
behind his wife's back
and he noticed
the cute ass as she moved
the way she swayed
and the hands
holding the tray
huh? What is it
you want from me?
his wife repeated
her eyes peering at him
taking in
that aspect of him
as he turned his head
look said Max
following the waitress
to the table across the way
his eyes slowly
undressing her
his mind making up scenes
like in some movie
you say come on Honey
let's go out for a meal
and talk
and what are you doing
looking elsewhere
and not talking
his wife said
spittle on her lower lip
Max looked back
at his wife and said
oh yes sure
I was thinking
of the Picasso print
we saw the other day
you know that one
we both liked
and you said you'd like it
for your birthday
well maybe
I ought to get it
what do you think?
And the waitress
looked over at Max
as she went by
and he saw
a whole new ball game
in her eyes
and caught the cheek
and ear
and was sure
he captured some aspect
of her perfume
and his wife said
Picasso?
That Picasso?
are you sure Max?
and she went into a daze
and smiled
and Max imagined himself
and the waitress
and sex games
and a party
going wild.
poem by Terry Collett
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