Verisimilitude of Grandiose III: Debonair Soiree
Trample in the lacquer marbles of a soiree
And whittle an elegy from the toppling sea
Of our struggles behind the concealing drapes
And of the waltzing feet and swaying knees
And you will find nothing but a fraudulent soiree.
Come, debonairly donned in a dishabille suit
By the most splendid textile and luxurious craft
Hand tailored by your lamentations and sentiments
With a cigarette parting the fake smile on your lips,
A pen and paper squirming inside the tattered pockets,
For this is a revelry with a putrid kind of loneliness
Where you would wither like a hapless wallflower
Only without any walls to catch your recumbence
Or nacreous eyes to witness (or share) the sordidness.
Then raise a highball of gold dusts while
People drag at each other's sycophancy
In a swanking heraldry of tuxedos and ball gowns
Some would wear it mournful in black, some in fiery red,
Some in the tepidness of blue, some even half-naked,
But only in the same fashion of a bull fight's carnage.
The prismatic miasma of the debonair soiree erodes the vivid
Frescoes from the milieu to undrape the lustful invitation
Crying for a tea cup of egoism, and a scarce spoonful
Of grandiosity farfetched from a meaning
Then you will realize that you had forgotten
Your masque, for this is a masquerade.
Indeed, life is a delusive debonair soiree.
poem by Norman Santos
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Related quotes
Tom Traubert's Blues
(Tom Waits)
Wasted and wounded
And it ain't what the moon did
I got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow
Hey Frank can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Matilda waltzing Matilda
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me
I'm an innocent victim
of a blinded alley
And I'm tired of all these soldiers here
No-one speaks English
And everything's broken
And my strength is soaking away
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You'll go a waltzing Malitda with me
Now the dogs they are barking
and the taxi cab's parking
A lot they can do for me
I begged you to stab me
You tore my shirt open
And I'm down on my knees tonight
Old bushmills I staggered
You buried the dagger
Your silhouette window light
To go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
Now I've lost my St. Christopher
Now that I kissed her
And the one-arm bandit knows
And the maverick Chinaman
with the cold-blooded sigh
And the girls down by the striptease shows go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
No I don't want your sympathy
Fugitives say
that the streets aren't for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnet
and the ghost that sells memories
Want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me
And you can ask any sailor
And the keys from the jailor
And the old men in wheelchairs know
That Matilda's the defendant
She killed about a hundred
And she follows wherever you may go
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda
You'll go waltzing Matilda with me
And it's a battered old suitcase
in a hotel someplace
And a wound that would never heal
No prima donnas the perfume is on
and old shirt that is stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street-sweepers,
The night watchmen flame-keepers
And goodnight Matilda too
Goodnight Matilda too.
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltzing Matilda
Words and music: m. cowan
Roy sang this song whilst on an australian tour
It was taped by a fan and circulated.....
Once a jolly swagman, campd by a billabong,
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watchd and waited till his billy boiled,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me,
And he sang as he sat and waited till his billy boiled,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he shaoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me,
And he sang as he shaoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Up rode the squatter mounted on his thoroughbred,
Down come the troopers, one, two, three,
Whose that jolly jumbuck youve got in your tucker bag?
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me,
Whose that jolly jumbuck youve got in your tucker bag?
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Up jumped the swagman, sprang into the billabong,
Drowning himself by the coolibah tree,
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
Waltzing matilda, waltzing matilda,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me,
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
Youll come a waltzing matilda with me.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltzing Matilda
(sung by tico torres)
Wasted and wounded, it aint what the mood did,
Ive got what I prayed for now
Ill see you tomorrow, hey frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing mathilda, waltzing mathilda,
Youll go waltzing mathilda with me
Im an innocent victim of a blinded alley
And Im tired of all these soldiers here
No one speaks english, and everythings broken, and my stacys are
Soaking wet to go waltzing mathilda, waltzing mathilda,
Youll go waltzing mathilda with me
Now I lost my saint christopher now that Ive kissed her
And the one-armed bandit knows
That the maverick chinaman with his cold-blooded style
And the girls stand by the strip-tease shows, go
Waltzing mathilda, waltzing mathilda,
Youll go waltzing mathilda with me
Now I dont want your sympathy, the fugitive says
That the streets aint for dreaming now
Manslaughter dragnets and the ghosts that sell memories,
Want a piece of the action anyhow
Go waltzing mathilda, waltzing mathilda,
Youll go waltzing mathilda with me
Its a battered old suitcase in a hotel someplace,
And a wound that will never heal
No prima donnas, the perfume is on
Its an old shirt thats stained with blood and whiskey
And goodnight to the street sweepers, the night watchmen, the flame
Keepers
Goodnight mathilda, too
And goodnight mathilda, too
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lacquer Head
Sometimes bored sometimes lonely
pimple faced and rather homely
He wasn't much for socializin'
The tv kept him mesmerizin'
In one ear and out the other
Picked up a trick from his older brother
Got him a can of sniffin' salts
Pinned his mind upon the cross
(chorus)
Lacquer head knows but one desire
Lacquer head sets his skull on fire
Lacquer haed knows no in betweens
Huffin' on bags of gasoline
Sniffin' paint since the seventh grade
She was high on gin and gatorade
On turpintine she lost her luck
Fell in front of a speedin' pick-up truck
(chorus)
He was a boy of soft demeanor
And he loved his caburetor cleaner
The vapor made a sweet aroma
He sniffed himself into a coma
Lacquer head feeds his one desire
Lacquer head sets his brain on fire
Lacquer head knows no inbetweens
Huffin' on bags of gasoline
Keep on sniffin' till yer brain goes pop
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltzing to the shores
Are the ocean’s swaying surfs
Dancing to encores
haiku by Mittur Ramprasad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gentlemen, I give you the Whittle engine.
quote by Frank Whittle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waltzing Matilda
OH! there once was a swagman camped in the Billabong,
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree;
And he sang as he looked at his old billy boiling,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda, my darling,
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Waltzing Matilda and leading a water-bag—
Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?
Down came a jumbuck to drink at the water-hole,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him in glee;
And he sang as he put him away in his tucker-bag,
“You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me!”
Down came the Squatter a-riding his thorough-bred;
Down came Policemen—one, two, and three.
”Whose is the jumbuck you’ve got in the tucker-bag?
You’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me.”
But the swagman, he up and he jumped in the water-hole,
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree;
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong,
“Who’ll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?”
Andrew Barton ‘Banjo’ Paterson
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Pebbles And Marbles
She started a blaze from one tiny spark
I didn't even detect
She loved the light, was dismayed by the dark
The stars, though, she seemed to respect
The faint light that flutters at night to the Earth
Would land in her eyes and collect
Luminous creatures she'd find in the surf
I never thought to inspect
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To think that it fell from my hand
She gave me ideas, planted the seed
But she never stopped to reflect
The course that she's on, wherever it leads
I never would redirect
Pebbles and marbles, like words from a friend
Make us hold tight, but are lost in the end
When we're alone, we all seem to tend
If we find a marble in the dust
To wish someone left it for us
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To wish that it fell from my hand
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind...
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are Deserving Of The Best
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I did not appear here expecting forgiveness.
I came to you wanting to,
Show my respect.
I take full responsibility,
For the neglect I had shown...
When then I left.
Please,
Turn around and look at me.
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
I want to reveal to you,
My immaturity has gone.
I came back to town to let you know...
No matter what has happened,
Between us...
I want you to hear me say,
It was me...
Not you,
Who had been the one wrong!
I've been wanting to tell you that,
For so very long.
Turn around and look at me.
Please?
Nothing on my face expresses,
I've come to you with a concealing message.
If I have to deliver it on my knees,
I will.
Only happiness in your life,
I wish for you to seek and fulfill.
I've come to you to express my respect.
And to let you know,
You are deserving of the best...
Of what life has to offer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Knees Of My Heart
Knees of my heart
By: jimmy buffett, michael utley, will jennings
1984
Ive got a question for you
Please grant me an interview
Dont want to read it in a magazine
Dont want to see it on the silver screen
Dont let the craziness tear us apart
Im down on the knees of my heart
Down here on the knees of my heart
This comes from deep in my soul
Your sweet love has taken control
Ill swim across the ocean if you tell me so
Take you to the jump up if you want to go
Its never-y too late to make a brand new start
Im down here on the knees of my heart
Down here on the knees of my heart
Whoa how I will sing
If you give me everything
I live for the day
When theres nothing in our way
I will be waiting tonight
Youll find my boat by the light
Im gonna show you what my love can do
Out on the ocean all alone with you
Well find a desert island on an ancient chart
Take me from the knees of my heart
Take me from the knees of my heart
Take me from the knees of my heart
Take me from the knees of my heart
Take me from the knees of my heart
Whoa oh oh take me from the knees of my heart
Please take me from the knees of my heart
Whoa oh oh take me from the knees of my heart
Uh buh puh buh puh buh puh
Please from the knees of my heart
Whoa oh oh
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sexiness should not be overt. Something shapeless that drapes across your hip, hangs off the shoulder; something that cowls in the front, drapes low in the back, that's sexy.
quote by Rachel Zoe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fill your mouth with marbles and make a speech. Every day reduce the number of marbles in your mouth and make a speech. You will soon become an accredited public speaker -- as soon as you have lost all your marbles.
quote by Brooks Hays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Winters Tale
The winters bitterness is lost
Its the fireside warmth that comforts me
The peace for all my thoughts
The night brings shadows to the street
Its the time for dreams of things to come
To creep inside their lives
Youre concealing every feeling
Can you find me, deep inside you
Let me touch you, let me keep you
Let me know youre there
Youre concealing every feeling
Can you find me, no
Yes deep inside youre a part of me
Every day I need to know Im there, Im there, Im there
[with previous verse sung behind]
The evening fantasy begins
In the sandy lanes that cross the fields
The gentle rain will fall
The morning sweeps away the night
And the dreams of you still haunt my thoughts
Bring meaning to my life
Youre concealing every feeling
Can you find me, deep inside you
Let me touch you, let me keep you
Let me know youre there
Youre concealing every feeling
Can you find me, no
Yes deep inside youre a part of me
Every day I need to know Im there, Im there, Im there
[with previous verse sung behind]
[ad lib to fade]
Can you hold me with your small hand
Prepare much, length and beauty of our tiny lives
Futures brighter now
Our world is everything to me, to know, Im there
Lord! you see the world is brighter than the sky
The sky is shining everywhere in our world
You know you never said in your many times, all in me instead
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember how my Great Uncle Jerry would sit on the porch and whittle all day long. Once he whittled me a toy boat out of a larger toy boat I had. It was almost as good as the first one, except now it had bumpy whittle marks all over it. And no paint, because he had whittled off the paint.
Jack Handey in Deep Thoughts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Do I Keep My Head Up?
Why do I keep my head up?
And my eyes looking forward?
It is an incentive I use,
To keep moving my feet.
And not allow my knees,
To touch the ground.
With an exercising done to my legs.
There was a time,
When I just used my knees...
For the purposes of begging.
Now with my feet moving...
After learning I could walk on them,
It is remarkable the countless opportunities...
I never knew existed I have discovered.
'I do miss the 'old' you.'
I can understand that.
But I felt very uncomfortable on my knees.
And I knew there had to be something else to do,
Since I had done that a little too well.
I needed to be challenged on a regular basis.
And then one day it dawned on me to get up on my feet.
And feel them below me moving.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pot of Gold
tell you what's gold
to the poet - it is when
he is walking in
the bamboo groove
and all of a sudden
the swivelling leaves
become friends, lipsing
welcome, their hands
doing a Thai dance
the sharp tipped fingers
in rows, waving, all over
tell you when the poet
has struck gold -
it is when the sea rushes
to shore, one luminous line
toppling over the other
metaphorising the the sun
and sky in dazzling ink
- that unreachable they are
they could be brought down
to swim and play with us
teal blanket and fiery shimmering ball
- tangoing, waltzing, galloping,
circling and and heaving in estacy
tell you when the poet
has found his pot of gold -
it is when his words find
their ways into everybody's heart
in such a pleasant flow -
crystal clear vantage wine -
the reader thinks he is writing
a part of each of them
and his brain cant help
sipping each word up
to revitalise itself
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Marbles I
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
[Marbles I-IV]
Did anyone see my last marble
As it rolled out and over the floor?
It fell through a hole in the corner
Of a room in a town on a tour
It's lonely without your last marble
I miss it not rattling around
As I lie in my bed there's a space in my head
Where there used to be colours and sound..
When I was a child I had marbles
They brought admiration and fame
They were pretty to look at and marbles
Was always my favourite game
We played all the summer days
In the stony alleyways
In the playground after class
We would trade the coloured glass
More valuable than diamonds
More magical than diamonds
Did anyone see..
Did anyone see..
Does anyone see?
There were almost four hundred until the black day
I discovered how high they would fly to the sky
If you used them for tennis instead of a ball..
Zinging glass satellites crueller than fate
Whacked with a racket up into the blue
I'd smashed all the greenhouses on the estate
And a crowd formed a queue at the gate..
That was almost the end of my marbles
Confiscated, I choked back the tears
I hung onto a handful of favourites
That disappeared over the years
Did anyone see my last marble
I swear that I had it before
Sometimes I think I should go see a shrink
In case he can find me some more
Did anyone see my last marble?
I'd saved it to give it away
Since I was a youth
Now I don't have no proof
Only words
Only words
Only words.
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marbles IV
(HogarthKellyMosleyRotheryTrewavas)
[Marbles I-IV]
Did anyone see my last marble
As it rolled out and over the floor?
It fell through a hole in the corner
Of a room in a town on a tour
It's lonely without your last marble
I miss it not rattling around
As I lie in my bed there's a space in my head
Where there used to be colours and sound..
When I was a child I had marbles
They brought admiration and fame
They were pretty to look at and marbles
Was always my favourite game
We played all the summer days
In the stony alleyways
In the playground after class
We would trade the coloured glass
More valuable than diamonds
More magical than diamonds
Did anyone see..
Did anyone see..
Does anyone see?
There were almost four hundred until the black day
I discovered how high they would fly to the sky
If you used them for tennis instead of a ball..
Zinging glass satellites crueller than fate
Whacked with a racket up into the blue
I'd smashed all the greenhouses on the estate
And a crowd formed a queue at the gate..
That was almost the end of my marbles
Confiscated, I choked back the tears
I hung onto a handful of favourites
That disappeared over the years
Did anyone see my last marble
I swear that I had it before
Sometimes I think I should go see a shrink
In case he can find me some more
Did anyone see my last marble?
I'd saved it to give it away
Since I was a youth
Now I don't have no proof
Only words
Only words
Only words.
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Visor'd
A MASK--a perpetual natural disguiser of herself,
Concealing her face, concealing her form,
Changes and transformations every hour, every moment,
Falling upon her even when she sleeps.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleas of a Claymore II
Have you ever seen a saber?
Took so much beating
In a plethora of derision
As the hands pounded his convictions
Against the feral adversary
Of his stale conqueror,
Lackadaisical and crestfallen
But still fawning in a lash back
To find the elusive direst
Of his tethering fate,
And his silver blood spilled
And scintillated in stellar
Like the mistral tears of a maiden.
And some people esteemed it
Musing in avarice for the clout
That this claymore possessed
Despite of the scarred visage
Or perhaps, because of the incisions
And they would lather the lacquer
Of his chipped and dying blades
To thaw the poignancy
And bend him down to his knees
Rasping upon the stance
Of defensive resistance.
The surrender of a saber
Would stab his own soul
And the hero inside
And his parched tragedies
Would whittle and fritter away
Into the very zenith of cusps
To become a despondent weapon
In the final incarnation of a claymore
But the hands forget
Or sometimes do not care
What the saber was
And seize him in their cradles
Fervently seeking bloodshed
In favor of their legendary conquest.
Have you ever seen a saber?
Malleable with a sole graze
As the hands guided itself
Down his glacial crassness
Reckoning the beatings
In the crevasses of his edges
Ravening upon the triumphs
That the saber gave them
And in spite of the disease
The saber would plead
To be held once again
And take the brunt and blames.
And when the hero bequeaths
The glory of his subsistence
Coming clean and pristine
While the downtrodden friend
Smother in the draping
Of the chrysalis in his scabbard
The claymore would plead
In profound reiteration
To be held once again;
Have you ever heard the hilt of a saber
Call for euthanasia?
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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