Sun Block Cream
My beloved worried these days;
'Your wrinkles in the face very painful
Wait I'll buy you a Sun Block Cream! '
'You worry so much and this is the reality
And why you waste money for the uncertainty? '
Just think of the Moon with the patches on her face
And she kept quiet,
The needy, fatal scars of the burns
On their sad faces who couldn't reach even
For a cheap grease tin?
My role is already finished and not necessary
To be in Hollywood.
If possible buy me a cheap bottle of Wine
At least I could have a sound sleep! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Don’t be cheap
Buy not a thing because it’s cheap.
Don’t let others make you cheap.
To be greedy is to be cheap.
To be selfish is to be cheap.
To poke your nose is a cheap thing.
Don’t be cheap; better be poor.
23.08.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love is cheap. You can buy it anywhere. Lives are cheap. It's money that's dear. You have to work days and sit up nights thinking how to make money.
quote by John Dos Passos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cooing in a nest
My beloved wife bought me a sunblock cream; 'Dad! You have some wrinkles on your face.'
'Yes Mom! We are close upon our sixties, yet to be chosen for the yearly Marathon.'
She collects pennies in an old jam bottle and hides somewhere as she knows that I steal for my daily Cuban vanilla cigar.
I dreamed one night the till full of gold coins.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Faces and layers of faces
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Thirteen
At first, this is the face I will show you
Shallow, thin, smooth
Then we feel each other, like some kind of
New found friends, I
Take another layer, and tell you, this is my face,
Some scars, and lines of age, and furrows,
Then we write many emails, and remember
Common things, like a certain familiarity,
Another layer is taken and exposed,
The face of a sick man, with some
Disappointments in his mind,
Some wounds, wrinkles, and so you
Think, are there other layers of faces still
To show,
Deeper, deeper is there another layer to show
Another face of this man?
Yes, there is another layer, more faces
Hidden underneath each layer,
As we go on, learning from ourselves,
And me learning from myself,
I will be digging for more faces,
Because I am never static
I am growing, and for each growth
Like molting
Another face comes out
Soon, I hope, I must come out
With the most beautiful face
The we can be both proud of,
It is just a matter of time
Depending on how well you have loved me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Airplane
Over the city in an airplane
I can see everything below
The houses they look so tiny
The cars look like dots
Weve only got fifteen minutes to go
The clouds in the sky caress my mind so tenderly
The sun shines down on the great big beautiful scene
The sound of the engine fills my ears up
Im hopin this rainy weather clears up
My lover is waiting at the airport
Soon shell be kissing me hello
The woman sitting next to me tells me bout her guy
And I tell her all about you and i
Airplane, airplane
Carry me back to her side
Airplane, airplane
I need God as my guide
Down, down on the ground
Cant wait to see her face
(a-1, a-2, a-1, 2, 3)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
I cant wait (cant wait)
To see (her face)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Patches Of
patches of sunlight,
patches of clouds.
patches of Jesus,
patches of doubt.
patches of joy,
patches of pain.
patches of hope,
patches of strain.
patches of tomorrow,
patches of today.
patches of forever,
patches of 'cant stay'!
patches of loving,
patches of cold.
patches of youth,
patches of old.
patches of bravery.
patches of fear.
patches of happiness,
patches of tears.
patches of life,
patches of death.
patches of trying
with your last breath!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Waiting For The Man
Wait (disgrace)
I know I shouldn't, but we'll wait (such a pretty face)
I know the time is getting late ( such a waste)
And here is what you hesitate (such a pretty face)
But still I really wish that you'd wait ( such a waste)
Although the passion might abate (such a pretty face)
And find you in another state (it's such a state)
That will seem just as a mistake (it's such a waste)
Oh baby, I really think that I oughta wait (such a pretty face)
Wait (it was such a waste)
I really wouldn't want your hate (it's such a pretty face)
Certainly not after like late ( such a waste)
You wanna give not only take (it's such a pretty face)
I know propriety is such a waste (it's such a disgrace)
But then it says you really have to wait (such a pretty face)
Considering the present state ( such a waste)
Don't change my mind at such a late stage ( such a waste)
Oh baby, don't you think you oughta wait (such a pretty face)
Ooohhh
Ooohhh
Ooohhh
Ooohhh
Wait
Oh, now baby, how I wish you would wait
I really wish you'd hesitate
Oh, baby, baby please why don't you wait
Oh, how I really wish you'd wait
Oh, how I wish you'd hesitate
( someday)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheap An Nasty
(coverdale/vandenberg)
Come on baby...
I get so confused,
But, my heart knows youre one of a kind
Leather an lace, an angels face,
Riding on a one track mind
Youre fully loaded with cruise control,
My four wheels rock with your back seat roll
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
I get so excited, babe, when Im invited
To ride in your limousine,
You drive it every day, burn it every night,
I wonder how you keep it so clean
Smooth accelerator, you get me so loose,
You keep your motor running till I run out of juice
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Cheap an nasty
I never knew it could be this way
An I never thought Id ever complain,
But, gimme a second just to catch my breath
Babe, before you do it again
All the boys call your name
Down the wishing well,
Baby, when you go
Youre like a cat out of hell
Youre cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
All you wanna do is give it up, give it up
Cheap an nasty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty,
Come on an do the dirty with me
Come on an do the dirty with me...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our 36th Wedding Anniversary
Oh! We have come across thirty six dark thorny streets hand-in-hand
And ultimately stranded here in the land of opportunity.
I shook the tall money tree in the back yard.
But only the decayed leaves fell leaving the ripen fruits on the tree top.
My beloved wife wants to make a love cake on this particular day.
And she search the money in her till.
She grumbled that I have stolen half of the collection for my aromatic cigars in vain.
There the mail came and were some greeting cards from Australia, Sri-Lanka & et cetera.
Our precious daughters and son-in-laws have sent some of their hard earned money.
We must be very grateful to our loved ones!
I whispered to my cock-a-hoop wife's ear; ' Darling leave the bourgeois love cake aside,
Buy a cheap bottle of wine and finish it to the bottom.
Then we could have a sound sleep on the couch
Dreaming of a better world to-morrow.
* The trouble is, old age is not interesting until one gets there.It's a foreign country with an unknown language to the young and even to the middle aged.
-May Sarton
As we are now
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Buddha Thoughts (From The Grave)
he said he needed
two dollars, he was hungry...
the image of a cheap
bottle of wine dripped
from his eyes...
i gave hime the money,
and a couple of smokes.
time has a way of bringing,
even from the grave!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Talk Is Cheap
(Van Morrison)
Kicked your gift-horse in the teeth
Crowd gathered round in the street
You killed your saviour new one can't be found
Talk is cheap your saviour's highway bound
You read the tabloids every day
They're giving lots of things away
They went to build you up
So they can bring you down
Talk is cheap it's gonna
Could make them a million pounds
Now baby don't put your business on the telephone
Tell your girlfriend just to leave me alone
Tell her to watch her mouth before she talks to anybody anybody
Oh 'cos talk is cheap it comes with the territory
Sometimes it's back-to-front sometimes it's upside down
Put your money where your mouth is when you come around
Backbiters and syndicators walking from chinatown
Oh talk is cheap why don't you lay your money down
Well they say you can't shut up a god damn fool
Ain't no exception to the rule
It's blah, blah, blah, blah
Just like a nursery rhyme
Talk is cheap almost all the time
Alright
Yes, talk is cheap
Almost all the time
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony
There was a girl named Abigail
Who was taking a drive
Through the country
With her parents
When she spied a beautiful sad-eyed
Grey and white pony.
And next to it was a sign
That said,
FOR SALE—CHEAP.
“Oh,” said Abigail,
“May I have that pony?
May I please?”
And her parents said,
“No you may not.”
And Abigail said,
“But I MUST have that pony.”
And her parents said,
“Well, you can have a nice butter pecan
Ice cream cone when we get home.”
And Abigail said,
“I don’t want a butter pecan
Ice cream cone,
I WANT THAT PONY—
I MUST HAVE THAT PONY.”
And her parents said,
“Be quiet and stop nagging—
You’re not getting that pony.”
And Abigail began to cry and said,
“If I don’t get that pony I’ll die.”
And her parents said, “You won’t die.
No child ever died yet from not getting a pony.”
And Abigail felt so bad
That when she got home she went to bed,
And she couldn’t eat,
And she couldn’t sleep,
And her heart was broken,
And she DID die—
All because of a pony
That her parents wouldn’t buy.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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You, Your Face and Your Many Faces
you and your face
you and your many faces
i never clarify your other face
because you build a siege
with your many faces
your many faces have a heart of liar
little facet of your tricky mind
you and your many faces
your face not to be someone's follower
your face to be the queen of yourself
you and your face
you don't need to show your inner face
your many faces will play the pace
and no one resist your easily fake face
your face and your many faces
if those two are not good enough
to get me
what will you take to become your face?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Cheap Whiskey
(emory gordon jr./jim rushing)
He sits all alone in his easy chair
Staring back on his lost yesterdays
Long before he encountered the bottle
And the demons that drove her away
In his hand he is holding her photograph
Her image all tear-stained and worn
Tonight hes embracing reality
And he curses the day he was born
Chorus:
And the darkness still echoes her warning
You cant have two loves in your life
Now the things that will haunt him
Until the day that he dies
Is the smell of cheap whiskey
And the sound of goodbye
Since the hour that she left hes been sober
And each breath that he draws makes him think
About the light of his life gone forever
When he traded her love for a drink
Repeat chorus
The smell of cheap whiskey
And the sound of goodbye
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Town By The Sea
Here only the air that you breathe it is free
All else you pay for in the Town by the sea
The sea air is cleaner you do hear some say
Yet few happy faces for to brighten one's day.
For people from the suburbs a weekend get away
From the noise and pollution they live with every day
Two days by the sea does cost them two days pay
Sea-side towns not cheap to stay in such is life some might say.
The old town by the sea is a bright and breezy place
Though few people here with a smile on their face
Mid sunday afternoon their drive back to the suburbs is about to begin
Their two day break went so fast in life 'tis hard to win.
Even in the Winter a quiet time of year
Accomodation in the town by the sea seems quite dear
So few smiling faces around me I do see
And only the air that you breathe does seem free.
poem by Francis Duggan
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With the Sun Going Down With Nowhere To Go
With scars adept to traffic,
I go sideways: The dogs want out.
They are very needy, and the days are needy
Too. Another one has eaten the world,
My soul is joyous- but my face tired-
If I sold wine, I’d be beautiful,
I’d have a little family, and a house in the
Snow- I’d play with my daughter under the
Tree, and I wouldn’t listen no matter what
The serpent sang to me;
And my soul is joyous, it has nowhere to go.
Maybe tomorrow it will follow the sun outside
And around the world a bit;
Maybe it will visit you and crenellate your daughter
Like a good luck charm, and influence more
People to consummate you- They consummate you
Already with the sun going down,
The cars swirling down the mountain as if in a
Clever, automated dream; their faces winding down,
But I should think that their souls would like
To crenellate your daughter with me too.
She is drooling on a bib you wear over your gown,
With the sun going down with nowhere to go.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wait
Wait (disgrace)
I know I shouldnt, but well wait (such a pretty face)
I know the time is getting late (... such a waste)
And here is what you hesitate (such a pretty face)
But still I really wish that youd wait (... such a waste)
Although the passion might abate (such a pretty face)
And find you in another state (its such a state)
That will seem just as a mistake (its such a waste)
Oh baby, I really think that I oughta wait (such a pretty face)
Wait (it was such a waste)
I really wouldnt want your hate (its such a pretty face)
Certainly not after like late (... such a waste)
You wanna give not only take (its such a pretty face)
I know propriety is such a waste (its such a disgrace)
But then it says you really have to wait (such a pretty face)
Considering the present state (... such a waste)
Dont change my mind at such a late stage (... such a waste)
Oh baby, dont you think you oughta wait (such a pretty face)
Ooohhh ...
Ooohhh ...
Ooohhh ...
Ooohhh ...
Wait
Oh, now baby, how I wish you would wait
I really wish youd hesitate
Oh, baby, baby please why dont you wait
Oh, how I really wish youd wait
Oh, how I wish youd hesitate
...
...
(... someday)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Face With No Future
I look in the mirror,
and what do I see?
A face with no future,
stares out at me.
On the table, a glass and a bottle,
of my favourite poison.
When I was young,
I drank to be alive.
Now all I do,
is drink to survive.
My eyes bloodshot,
filled with vacant stare.
My face goes unshaven,
but what do I care?
My bottle is now empty,
quickly replace with one full.
Soon it will be empty,
just like this fool.
Family and friends fled.
My eyes were blind.
All they could see,
was another drink,
in front of me.
My legs get unsteady.
I stagger instead of walk.
A bottle wrapped in paper,
gripped tightly by my hand.
My clothes grow dirty,
as days and nights combine.
A smile is frozen,
on this face of mine.
My arm flex out,
when I stumble to the ground.
Faces look down at me,
expressions display my waste.
I just hold my smile,
as I lay there in their midst.
At least my bottle,
didn’t break,
on my fall from grace.
Time for another drink,
raise bottle to my lips.
Liquid trickles down my throat,
and still my smile remains,
as silly as it can be.
The faces disappear.
Everyone has gone now.
Like family and friends,
they all desert.
I lay there on my own.
For no one wants to take,
a drunk home.
25 Jan 2007
poem by David Harris
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Over Use
A quote goes cheap if over used.
A queen goes cheap if over seen.
A guest goes cheap if overstayed.
Otherwise also they’ll expire stale
(26.06.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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