Gypsy Tinker's unmask face
The old man is travelling along the road and his menders of pots and pans.
Besides money he collects meals as goodwill from the goody-goodies to his starving family.
There are leakages in his pots and pans but he neglects to mend them.
Whoever comes to his shack?
Wholeheartedly who agrees his plight?
If the Nobel prize they decided to grant for a spontaneous smile?
The priority should go to this unsophisticated soul.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
If ifs and ans were pots and pans, there'd be no trade for tinkers.
Pots and Pans
Tom and Jerry cartoon (the human versions, not the cat and mouse)
from Pots and Pans (1932)
Submitted by Film Fan
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If ifs and ands were pots and pans there'd be no work for tinkers.
If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there'd be no work for tinkers' hands.
Llama Express
across the Andean Alps
on bygone empire trails
like vagabonds traversing
on woolen backs and hooves
the dust rises behind them
the wind sweeps their fur
pots and pans, ceramic things
this road train ever moves
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weapons never Rule the World
the world started
out with a war
each mind fashioned
his kinds to dominate
all set out for artillery -
the fangs, claws, poisons
wings that could fly
a thousand miles
legs that could run like a jet
eyes that could see ten score miles
weapons, weapons, weapons,
until the almighty fashioned his
proud kind to show their mistakes
plain men with two hands, legs
and a conscience.
all these weapon owners
that kill themselves to extinction
men - god's proof to his rivalries
the winners of the real world
are those with conscience, love
that mere weapon owners
are loosers fit only
for the pots and pans
the almighty always guiding
never allowing his men
to lose sight
that weapons never rule the world
owners of fangs, claws, mighty wings
that all end up in the pots and pans
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shake, Rattle & Roll
Rattle and roll,
I said shake, rattle, and roll
Well you never do nothing
To save your doggone soul
Well get out of that kitchen
And shake those pots and pans
I said get out of that kitchen
And shake those pots and pans
I said to my soul:
You're the devil in the frying pan
Well I said shake, rattle, and roll
I said shake, rattle, and roll
I said shake, rattle, and roll
I said shake, rattle, and roll
Well you never do nothing
To save your doggone soul
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shake, Rattle & Roll/ Flip, Flop & Fly
(words & music by calhoun)
Well get out of that kitchen and rattle those pots and pans
Get out of that kitchen and rattle those pots and pans
Well I want my breakfast cause Im a hungry man
I believe youre doin me wrong and now I know
I believe youre doin me wrong and now I know
cause the harder I work the faster my money goes
Well I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
Well you wont do right
To save your doggone soul
Im like the one-eyed cat peeping in a seafood store
Im like the one-eyed cat peeping in a seafood store
Well I can look at you till you aint no child no more
Well I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
I said shake, rattle and roll
I said shake rattle and roll
Well you wont do right
To save your doggone soul
Im like a mississippi bullfrog sittin on a hollow stump
Im like a mississippi bullfrog sittin on a hollow stump
Ive got so many women I dont know which way to jump
I said flip flop and fly I dont care if I die
I said flip flop and fly I dont care if I die
I wont ever leave .. dont ever say goodbye
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weird Science
(weird science)
Plastic tubes and pots and pans
Bits and pieces and
Magic from the hand
Were makin
(weird science)
Things Ive never seen before
Behind bolted doors
Talent and imagination
(weird science)
Not what teacher said to do
Makin dreams come true
Living tissue, warm flesh
(weird science)
Plastic tubes and pots and pans
Bits and pieces (and)
Bits and pieces (and)
Chorus
(bits of) my creation--is it real?
Its my creation--i do not know
No hesitation--no heart of gold
Just flesh and blood--i do not know
From my heart and from my hand
Why dont people understand
My intentions . . . . oooh, weird . . . .
Weird science!!
(weird science)
Magic and technology
Voodoo dolls and chants
Electricity
Were makin
(weird science)
Fantasy and microchips
Shooting from the hip
Something different
Were makin
(weird science)
Pictures from a magazine
Diagrams and charts
Mending broken hearts (and makin)
(weird science)
Something like a recipe
Bits and pieces . . . .
Bits and pieces . . . .
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christmas Rock
My billfold doesn't have a prayer
There's Christmas catalogs everywhere
She keeps looking at the jewelry section
Cutting pictures out of her selections
I said we need to hold it down this year
And in her eye she got a big ol' tear
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want pots and pans
Just something shinin' on her hand
With an emerald or a diamond on it
I had a budget but she's gone and blown it
Down to the jewelry store, here I go
Hear the clerk say, ho, ho, ho
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want anything from sears
No tools or garden shears
There's something special on her mind
And I can't even afford the shine
I wish she'd settled for a long nightshirt
No, I've got to give till it hurts
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She don't want pots and pans
Just something shinin' on her hand
With an emerald or a diamond on it
I had a budget but she's gone and blown it
Down to the jewelry store, here I go
Hear the clerk say, ho, ho, ho
She wants a Christmas rock
But Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
She wants a Christmas rock
But ol' Santa's pockets ain't got no roll
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I was a Tall Lad
WHEN I was a tall lad with money in my hand,
I'd pots and pans a plenty, and friends about the land.
I'd golden roads in sunshine and silver roads in rain,
And a little gray donkey and a girl out of Spain.
Now I am an old man with rings in my ears,
All too sad for laughter, all too wise for tears.
And the Spanish girl has left me, and the money's coming slow
And the little gray donkey he was lamed long ago.
When I get to heaven where tinkers may be seen,
I'll wear a yellow kerchief and a coat of velveteen,
And out beyond the shining streets I'll take the road again
With a little gray donkey and a girl out of Spain.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bang Your Pans If You Wish
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
You're not the only one,
Who has loaded shoulders.
Today the young and older ones...
Have little to eat.
You're not the only one,
Whose shoulders are bent over.
Who needs to lay their head somewhere,
And get some sleep!
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Don't give up your hope.
To swing from a rope.
Or choke up on tears,
Or fears to threaten.
Show more strength and cope.
And leave your mind open.
Don't shut it close!
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
With empty cans,
If you wish...
And then demand,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish...
To make your situation,
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Like a personal damnation.
Bang your pans,
If you wish!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Story
It’s hard being in love
with fireflies. I have to do
all the pots and pans.
When asked to parties
they always wear the same
color dress. I work days,
they punch in at dusk.
With the radio and a beer
I sit up doing bills,
jealous of men who’ve fallen
for the homebody stars.
When things are bad
they shake their asses
all over town, when good
my lips glow.
Runaway Genius
Running & running, of course i know where I'm going, I'm a genius.
Running & running faster now, my family is coming, yelling, & screaming. I know why, I'm a genius.
Running & running faster than before, here comes my friends with bats & sticks. I know why they're coming, I'm a genius.
Running & Running as fast as I can, here comes more people with pots & pans. I know why they're chasing me, I'm a genius.
Eventually, I tire out & begin to jog.
But as soon as I stop here comes the mob. I was about to resume running but then I turned around. The mob was in silence, then I ask a very simple but complex question, 'What is the meaning os life? ' I know of course, I'm a genius.
poem by Tevin Ellis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beer And A Shot!
a beer and a shot....
two old men sitting
on the stoop. talking...
about old times, jobs,
women, and life....
changing the strings
on a battered old Gibson...
the old dog just happy
to lie at their feet....
the sound of bacon frying,
the clatter of pots and pans....
a hawk soaring in circles
over the fields turned brown...
a couple of songs,
a few flakes of snow....
a beer and a shot,
as time draws short!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wife
He's out of work!
I tell myself a change should mean a chance,
And he must look for changes to advance,
And he, of all men, really needs a jerk.
But I hate change.
I like my kitchen with its pans and pots
That shine like new although we've used them lots.
I wouldn't like a kitchen that was strange.
And it's not true
All changes are for better. Some are worse.
A man had rather work, though work's a curse,
Than mope at home with not a thing to do.
No surer thing
Than that he'll get another job. But soon!
Or else I'll have to change. This afternoon
Would be the time, before I sell my ring.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Next Door
Horace andy
There is a man that live next door
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood
And he gets me down...
He gets in so late at night
Always a fuss an fight
Always a fuss an fight
All tru the night
Ive got to get away from here
This is not a place for me to stay
Ive got to take my family
Well find a quiet place
Hear the pots and pans they fall
Bang against my wall
Bang against the wall
No rest at all
He gets in so late at night
Always a fuss an fight
Always a fuss an fight
All tru the night
Ive got to get away from here
This is not a place for me to stay
Ive got to take my family
Well find a quiet place
song performed by by Massive Attack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Live
If you live your time will come
I say if you live your time will come
So child dont mess with that cotton sack
It will scratch your knees and bend your back
And if you live your time will come
If you live your day will come
If you live your day will come
So child dont play with those pots and pans
They will soon enough ruin your pretty hands
And if you live your time will come
If you live a day will come
If you live a day will come
When the sun will shine
And the crops will grow
And you think youre not gonna worry no more
But if you live, your time will come
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Mary Fairfax
Every day Miss Mary goes her rounds,
Through the splendid house and through the grounds,
Looking if the kitchen table's white,
Seeing if the great big fire's alight,
Finding specks on shining pans and pots,
Never praising much, but scolding lots.
If the table's white, she does not see
Roughened hands that once were ivory.
It is fires, not cheeks, that ought to glow;
And if eyes are dim, she doesn't know.
Poor Miss Mary! Poor for all she owns,
Since the things she loves are stocks and stones.
poem by Lesbia Harford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For All Mothers
any other presence
in the kitchen is a threat
to her empire...
none knows her pots and pans
and the purpose they're for
except herself...
cooking is her forte,
she believes; none can be
as good at it as her
she can't relish what others cook
to her, she is the ultimate!
pain she gulps
smiles she shares
doctor, she never needs
for nothing can touch her
is her belief...
slightest bruise
mildest pain
on others is
what she can't tolerate!
condemned to glorification
trapped in stereotype
motherhood, she is a victim
of utopian motherhood!
ode to one's mother
is ode to every mother
nurtured and reared
on the fact that women
cease to be human
once they're mothers!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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