The core is buried
He scolded me so I spit at him;
He yelled that I had beaten him.
I shouted that he had kicked me.
Thus we vied to lie to get justified.
15.06.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
There was a henpecked Jose – a bailiff.
On a tiff with his wife…climbed a cliff
To commit suicide.
She yelled from her bedside.
Scared he’s back. “Cur! ” she kicked him damn stiff.
[Oct 05,2009: : Greenfield, WI]
quote by by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit It Out
If theres rage inside you so you cannot think
Spit it out
If you get so angry that you cannot speak
Spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And tell them where they can put it
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
If you get worked over at your job
Spit it out
If a taxi almost runs you down
Spit it out
You got to take aim with your mouth and speak
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Talk to him or her or it
And take aim with your mouth and spit
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out
Hey, hey, hey
If youre patient and you have the time
Spit it out
Wait till theyre on the decline
Spit it out
The chinese say you meet the hard with the soft
The yin with the yang, the down with the up, oh
Spit it out, spit it out
You got to grab that dumb he, she or it
And give it to them right between the teeth
Spit it out, spit it out
Spit it out, babe, spit it out
Hey
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~~~I want to cry~~~~
I want to cry
Why he scolded me
I want to cry
I am sad
Why?
Why my boss scolded me
I treat my patients very compassionately
I feel relieved when they get better
I am very obedient to my work
I am sad
I want to cry
I am obedient to my profession
My teachers
My mom
Why they scolded me
I am not towards commercial medicine
The scolded me not doing “investigations”
I never do unnecessary investigations
But, he insulted my teachers
I am sad
I want to cry
Please my eyes don’t cry
I want to cry
poem by Kolitha Lelwala
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ive Been Kicked Around
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Im alright
I once had a heart
I was ripped from it
Chewed up then spat out
Like a cherry pit
And if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
Uh huh
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Am I alright?
Well Ive been kicked around
What do you see
Am I alright?
Am I alright?
I once had a soul
It was torn from me
I wont cry a tear
I will carry me
And if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
Dont worry, Im all right
So if I seem a little hard
Its just that Ive been kicked around
I dont know how I got this far
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
The way that Ive been kicked around
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who’ll Wear the Beaten Colours?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours—and cheer the beaten men?
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, till our time comes again?
Where sullen crowds are densest, and fickle as the sea,
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We closed the bars and gambling dens and voted straight and clean,
Our women walked while motor cars were whirling round the scene,
The Potts Point Vote was one for Greed and Ease and Luxury
With all to hold, and coward gold, and beaten folk are we.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, with hands and pockets clean?
(I wore the beaten colours since I was seventeen)
I wore them up, and wore them down, Outback and across the sea—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, and wear them home with me?
We wore them back from Ladysmith to where the peace was signed,
And wore them through the London streets where Jingoes howled behind.
We wore them to the Queen’s Hall, while England yelled “Pro-Boers!”
And sat them over victory while London banged the doors.1
We wore them from Port Arthur round till all sunk in the sea—
(Who’ll wear the white man’s colours, and wear them home with me?)
I’ve worn them through with gentlemen, with work-slaves and alone—
Who’ll wear the beaten colours, boys, and wear them on his own?
There’s one would look with startled eyes and shrink while I caressed,
Came I not with the colours of the conquered on my breast.
And twenty thousand Bushmen would stand with hands behind
And scorn in all their faces for the coward of his kind.
Who’ll wear the beaten colours and raise the voice they drowned—
It may be when we march again, they’ll bear some other sound—
Who’ll pin the beaten colours on and drive the beaten pen—
It may be other steel and ink when we march out again.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit It Out
(coverdale/galley)
I never knew what a kiss could mean
Until the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Now I dont want sugar coated loving
Just silver tongue tenderness,
You gotta give me a certain satisfaction
The kind of love you seal with a kiss
An spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I can remember, I can recall
When I first set my eyes on you,
Ill never forget the thrill of it all
Dreaming of the things we could do
Baby, you must be crazy,
Fooling with a man like me,
cos I roll my dice with a heart of ice
An make it clear to see
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
I never knew what a kiss could mean
til the first time I kissed you,
You took my love in the palm of your hand
An showed me what a woman could do
Your sweet caress an tenderness
Can take the pain away,
The things that you do make a queen out of you
An make me a king for a day
If you dont like it, spit it out
Now I know what your love can do
Ill be hanging round your door,
An Im gonna love you baby,
Ill give you more than you bargained for
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, spit it out, spit it out
If you dont like it
Spit it out, if you dont like it...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Political rivals attacked me. I was savagely beaten. I was kicked in the face and I lost my eye as a result.
quote by Jean-Marie Le Pen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Howlin' Mad Wind
The game's over.
The wind madly howled,
I cursed and growled,
And buried my sweaty head in a towel.
The wind had a distracting noise like a snare drum
Hit by fast hand. Its bitterness made me numb.
Manager said 'Wind killed us against the scum.'
We'd spit, and it would shoot like missiles mid-air,
Fly around everywhere.
Spit into the wind? You shouldn't dare.
We'd kick a ball straight, and it would curl and spin.
From when the match did begin,
We were beaten, by the howlin' mad wind.
The Man
Here comes he! The fool with sword
He don't know the language of pen
He purchased the cock for the Eggs
Requested him, please bring the Hen/
Flood of Blood is my desire, shouted
‘Mightiest man of mightiest world'
When yelled his tongue sprouted
And suddenly into the den it hurled//
poem by Aftab Alam Khursheed
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beaten To The Punch
You say that you can and then you run to get your mummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Looking for the man who sold you the dummy
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Laughing at the older guys who say its just as well
Saved by the wedding bell
Almost beaten to the punch
Youre looking for somebody new that you can knock around
You are almost beaten to the punch
If youve got a head for figures then youd better count me out
You were almost beaten to the punch
You pulled the piece but you soon called it love
You go hand in glove
Almost beaten to the punch
Your body speaks much louder than your voice
You let it do the talking so I dont have any choice
Now you find the younger guys are putting up resistance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
You better get out now because youll never go the distance
And youre almost beaten to the punch
Youll find a girl and youll promise her anything
Even a wedding ring
Almost beaten to the punch
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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spit to God
how foolish of you
to spit to God
who lives in the sky
the spit returns
back to you
who lives on
earth below
and you smell
as foul as your
own dried spittle.
spit to God &
you spit on your face.
as you hate me
shall you hate yourself
you get hurt so badly
and i am so sorry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raven
My raven was at my computer this morning,
on the desk and
standing near the keyboard.
I assume you're writing a novel, said I.
Never more, the raven said.
Very funny, I replied.
I yelled at my neighbor because he's a pig.
He yelled back,
Hey man - you just won the prize.
Prize for what? I yelled to him.
The pig wouldn't say.
He just walked away.
So now my raven is writing a book.
He may win a Oscar.
I'll be his chief.
95 / 5 and nothing less,
with a handling fee of 25,
and 15 bucks for cleaning cage.
poem by Rick Stokes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Take It Like A Woman
I bet ya never thought
That it would never turn out like this
Mama's little girl
Daddy's little princess
But somewhere in your fairy tale
Everything went wrong
Now the sun don't shine
The words don't ryhme
You're out of time
You've been beaten down
Kicked around
song performed by by Alice Cooper from Brutal Planet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spittoon
Spitting in any form is bad
Spitfire is dangerous
Spit destroy everything.
Spitting cobra spray venom
Unbalanced man spit emotion
Scorn fear condemnation.
Spitupon is not civilised
Spit it out left manything.
Here is spittoon
If you want to be good
throw out everything spit
In this spittoon
And get a bonbon
And get a boon.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Made Okay To Do It Your Way
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You complained,
That you couldn't take the weight.
And a waiting too late makes it okay.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
Why did you choose to pick a ball,
Knowing picking it...
Wasn't cool to do.
You made okay to do it your way,
To...
Pick then kick a ball.
To,
Pick then kick a ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
You pick up then you kicked the ball.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spit It Out
Back then my life was empty
Most things around disturbed me
Messed-up and really restless
My head was filled with distless
Until the day you saved me
You made me see things clearly
Nothing is ever hopeless
Got to know how to love myself
You made me love you, me and life
(chorus:) Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I am stupid
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I was mistaken
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I missed my chances
Go ahead, spit it out, go ahead,
go ahead, spit it out
That I cannot fix it
Right now I grab my head and
Look back at what I have done
I've been a total fool
Can find no explanation
One day I could not take it
Guess things were just too perfect
So I took my stuff and left you
Though I will always love you
Thought you saved me I still left you
(chorus)
song performed by by Vanilla Ninja
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Im Five
When Im five
I will wash my face me hands all by myself
When Im five
I will chew and spit tabacco like my grandfather jones
cause Im only four and five is far away
When Im five
I will read the magazines in mummys drawer
When Im five
I will walk behind the soldiers in the may day parade
cause Im only four and grown-ups walk too fast
Yesterday was horrid day, cause raymond kicked my shin
And mummy says if I am good, shell let me go to school in august
Daddy shouted loud at mummy and I dropped my toast at breakfast
And I laughed when bonzo licked my face, because it tickled
I wonder why my daddy cries and how I wish that I was nearly five
When Im five
I will catch a butterfly and eat it and I wont be sick
When Im five
I will jump in puddles, laugh in church and marry my mum
And Ill let my daddy do the washing-up
If I close one eye, the people on that side cant see me
I get headaches in the morning and I rode on freddies tricycle
And everywhere was funny, when I ran down to the sweetshop
Then I fell and bleeded-up my knee and everybody soppied me
I saw a photograph of jesus and I asked him if hed make me five
I saw a photograph of jesus and I asked him if hed make me five
When Im five
When Im five
When Im oah
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Woman, Made a Punching Bag of Man
A woman, beaten by the cruel hands of her man
Beaten as she raises her voice to challenge his words
Beaten as she goes out to celebrate her freedom
Beaten as she refuses to do what he orders and wants.
And the battered woman accepts her tragic lot
Bearing the marks of violence on her own body
Longing for golden days of love and romance
Lamenting on her destiny as punching bag of man.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ladies First
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Pushing in front of the ice cream line.
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first,'
Grabbing the ketchup at dinnertime.
Climbing on the morning bus
She'd shove right by all of us
And there'd be a tiff or a fight or a fuss
When Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
Pamela Purse screamed, 'Ladies first,'
When we went off on our jungle trip.
Pamela Purse said her thirst was worse
And guzzled our water, every sip.
And when we got grabbed by that wild savage band,
Who tied us together and made us all stand
In a long line in front of the King of the land-
A cannibal known as Fry-'Em-Up Dan,
Who sat on his throne in a bib so grand
With a lick of his lips and a fork in his hand,
As he tried to decide who'd be first in the pan-
From back of the line, in that shrill voice of hers,
Pamela Purse yelled, 'Ladies first.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At The Brink
“Few more strides into rival site; fight! Fight!
Yelled a lieutenant, “Conquest’s within our sight”
“Few more mouthfulls of ale; let me guzzle, guzzle”
Craved a carouser, “I’m at the edge of the azure”
“One more joker in the deck; let me bet! Bet!
Hoped a gamester, “I’m going to hit jackpot”
“More billions in coffer; let me earn! Earn! ”
Yearned a magnate, “I’ll soon be number one”
“One more cute woman; let me try! Try”
Vied a wooer, “My grand hundredth prey”
“Awful are human wiles; I can’t deal! Heal! ”
Riled Almighty “I crawl into the Black hole”
Slimy borders shake you, shock you; strain! Drain!
Gain on with guts; lest back to square one! Again! ! ! !
poem by Sathya Narayana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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