BURKA BABES...by talile ali
YOU BURKA BABES
YOU TURNIN ME ON
YOU GOT ME THINKIN
WHATS GOIN ON
UP UNDER THERE
YOU ARE SO FAIR
I WANNA SEE YOU
ALL IN THE BARE
OR DO A POOL DANCE
WITH YOUR BURKA ON
IT BE SO EROTIC
WE'D ALL BE GONE
YOU BURKA LADIES
ARE REALLY HOT
GOT ME DESIRING
ALL THAT YOU'RE NOT
BUT YOU ARE
YOU ARE
YOU ARE IN YOUR BURKA'S
VERY HOT
I SEE THESE WOMEN
EXPOSED AND SUCH
THEY'RE NOT AS HOT AS
YO ARE COVERED UP
ITS LIKE A PRESENT
WAITING TO BE UNWRAPPED
YOU'RE ALL EXCITED
YOU NEED A MAP
AND AT THE MOMENT
YOU DO UNVEIL
IT ALL ORGASMIC
IT RINGS MY BELL
BURKA BABE'S
BURKA BABES
BURKA BABES
STEAMING HOT BURKA BABES
poem by Talile Ali
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Related quotes
All That I Have Left
The Apostle Paul recommended women should
not seek beauty in hairstyles, ornaments, jewellery
and expensive clothes, true beauty lies in character;
I say: Thank you, the hairstyle is easily done due to
the thin feathers on my head, as for the clothes
I have to wear something, the clothes I have is ugly
enough - I cannot find pretty clothes in my size - and
now I find none that fits, neither pretty or ugly; at least
Paul said clothing is required, my only option is to mail-
order a burka as the clothes in our Western shops
Are an unqualified flop - for me at least, I comply with
the requirements for looking ugly; working on character
is all that I have left - Paul, you did not recommend
anything, you simply stated the state of affairs!
1 Timothy 3: 9 & 10
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Priorities
PRIORITIES
Today’s priorities tomorrow fade,
dissolved, distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed one day before
turns sour before its zest to rest is laid,
incorporated into causal braid,
what’s left sewn through waft-weft of life’s rapports.
It serves no sense to fear what lies in store
for others, for oneself - life’s game is played
with Life itself, spurns Death's amoral spade.
Timed candle splutters, will f[l]ame rise once more,
or shroud itself in darkness, curtains draw,
veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid?
For passing sigh thrilled head’s held high, yet soon
both silver spoon and slum lie dumb, stilled tune.
f[l]ame = flame fame lame l'âme aim am me
3 December 2001 revised 10 December 2008
robi03_0974_robi03_0000 SXX_CDJ
for previous version see below
Priorities
Priorities today, tomorrow fade,
dissolved, distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed the day before
turns sour before appointed hour, is laid
aside by patterns Cause, Effect may braid
into the waft and weft of their rapport.
It serves no sense to fear what lies in store
for others, for oneself, - life’s game is played
with Life itself, spurns Death's amoral spade.
The candle splutters, will f[l]ame rise once more,
or shroud itself in darkness, curtains draw,
veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid?
For passing sigh-space head’s held high, yet soon
all is dissolved for slum or silver spoon...
3 December 2001
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Babes In Arms
(myles goodwyn)
Published by goody two tunes, inc. - bmi
You got your hands in my pockets
Youre whisperin lies in my ear
Such promiscuous intentions
Dont mistake me for someone who cares
There were times I fooled myself, yeah
Thinkin I was someone else
Hard days, cold nights
Nothin that I could do, yeah
Lovers are babes in arms (babes in arms)
Yes its true, thats right, true, yes its true, ooh
Such a restless condition
The way youre turnin it on
Love em, tease em, for all the wrong reasons
You know youre such a bore
There were times I told myself (myself)
There was really no one else
Hard days, cold nights
Nothin that I can do, ooh
Lovers are babes in arms (babes in arms)
Yes its true, its true baby, true, yes its true, look out
Is it some kind of shakedown
You know I really dont care
But you push it too hard, girl, yeah
You know its just not fair
There were times I fooled myself
Thinkin there was no one else
Hard days, cold nights
Theres nothin that I could do, ooh
Lovers are babes in arms (babes in arms)
Yes its true, true, come on, come on, come on
Hard days, cold nights
Nothin that I can do
Lovers are babes in arms (babes in arms)
Yes its true, yes yes, its true
Hard days, cold nights
Oh, theres nothin that I could do, yeah
Lovers are babes in arms (babes in arms)
Yes its true, yes its true, you, you you
Hard days, cold nights
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mambo Mambo
I dance the rumba, the salsa, the cha cha
The limbo, the foxtrott and even the tango
With ladies and girlies with mummies and babies
And djs gone play this cause its on their playlist
And on my journey thru all of these dances
I found a lot of hot sax romances
But mambo seeked me and mambo freaked me
Than she realesed me - and this is how we go
Mambo mambo eh eh
The babes are all around me
Mambo mambo eh eh
Dancin all night long
Mambo mambo eh eh
The babes are all around me
Mambo mambo eh eh
To the break of dawn
...
Mambo mambo eh eh
The babes are all around me
Mambo mambo eh eh
Dancin all night long
Mambo mambo eh eh
The babes are all around me
Mambo mambo eh eh
Thank you for this dance
(repeat the 1st verse)
song performed by by Lou Bega
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Don't Give Up On You Babes
i don't give up
on you beautiful Babes,
you're sweet and
adorable
you fight for me
and i am so
flattered
i don't surrender Babes,
i am into this
intercourse
two bodies
pushing and pulling
for some
meaning
searching and
pointing to places
of the heart
i like this way of
knowing Babes
touching you when
i close my eyes
and kissing you
when i feel so
alone inside my
room
Don't leave me Babes,
Don't make things too obvious
Do they think that you are unhappy?
That i am as lonely as a tunnel
where birds stop a while
and peck on a seed
and then leave me empty again?
Well, Babes, when do we meet again
Inside our crazy dreams?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mouth Of Babes
so here we are
true superstars
we're so real from afar and now
now you're with us now
and the mouths of babes sing revolution
and the mouths of babes scream disillusion
you can't break what's already broken
cause from the mouths of babes comes nothing
the "dream" was a sham
for saving what you can't
and now they're me but i'm not them
i am you and you are me
it's in the ways i walk thru fire
it's in the ways of my desire
and when i said that you're no good
what i meant was i wish you could
be there forever
be young forever
i wish you were there
so now i bid farewell
beyond the bounds of hell
and now you'll swear you knew us well
well you can never tell
and the mouths of babes sing revolution
and the mouths of babes scream disillusion
you can't break what's already broken
cause from the mouths of babes comes nothing
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mouths of babes
so here we are true superstars we're so real from afar and now
now you're with us now
and the mouths of babes sing revolution
and the mouths of babes scream disillusion
you can't break what's already broken
cause from the mouths of babes comes nothing
the "dream" was a sham for saving what you can't and now
they're me but i'm not them i am you and you are me
it's in the ways i walk thru fire
it's in the ways of my desire
and when i said that you're no good
what i meant was i wish i could
be there forever be young forever i wish you could be there
so now i bid farewell beyond the bounds of hell
and now you'll swear you knew us well
well you can never tell
and the mouths of babes sing revolution
and the mouths of babes scream disillusion
you can't break what's already broken
cause from the mouths of babes comes nothing
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am A Fool, Babes
I miss you babes -
When I am home -
Surrounded by you crafts -
Mr Dingles is sitting on my lap -
Favourably the skeleton scarecrow -
Which stalks you strawberry supply -
I miss the chocolate mouse, with the dark flavours, you so gently spooned onto my lips -
I love the taste after the taste, the one from your tongue, which splits my mouth to be accepted, by more to your one -
I miss you babes, when you lap by the dance, ontop of me, whispering my name, never stopping, then we play our game -
I miss you more everyday, my love which now is my passion, will never be complete -
I miss you babes when I am down at night, when I feel to the complete in lost, your life came at the price, no God can expect me to do the cost -
I love you babes, I never said those words to you, by the mean, to fulfill your dreams -
Do you hear my screams, I am a fool, I am a fool, what I thought was cool, was not to the measure in you -
I cry, I do not care, I love you babes -
I miss you more everyday -
Open is my heart by thought -
My chances missed -
So I miss you babes -
My mistake, I misjudged, I ringed the finger on your hand, with tears -
You wear the ring to your grave -
I said I do, but somehow, I expected an anwser too -
I miss you babes -
My heart was graved next to you
poem by Unic Cjonr
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A Babe's Requiem
Wars are fought by babes with a gun,
fought by them but never won.
Taught to think that war is just,
to preserve freedom is a must.
So off they march to foreign lands
and soon they're mired with bloody hands,
praying that what they're doing is right,
shooting and killing both day and night.
While back at home we continue to buy
and let the flags continue to fly.
Reading the news, watching the scenes
not understanding, it only demeans
What human life is all about.
Why babes were born and how they've turned out.
Pointing the finger at imaginary foes,
forgetting to point at the white shirts of those
who plan these wars way in advance.
How do our babes even stand a chance?
They play with guns from the age of three.
Can't their parents wake up and see?
In foreign lands the parents do weep
watching in horror as their babes go to sleep,
never to awaken and breathe in again
the air in Iraq or Afghanistan.
How is it the babes of those in power
are not involved? In fact they do cower,
hiding behind the white shirts that lead,
never having to fear they might bleed.
Wars are not games that big people play.
The guns are given to the babes everyday.
No lullabies will be sung for them.
The song for these babes is a requiem.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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No Man No Cry
No man, no cry
No man, no cry
Ive had enough of all your lies
And all your silly games
Im running out
Cant you see what youre doing?
I never ever thought that youd treat me so cruel
But you proved me wrong and now you know Im just a fool
Dont keep me guessing always stressing all the time
You want a play this game, true love is hard to find
And if I walk there wont be no more comin back
In fact youll be missing this wish
You should be kissin this
Baby check my rhyme
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
Im feeling angry by the way you that you treat me lately
Do you see me as some fool, remember what Im worth boy
No disrespecting me or upsetting me with talk or this ladys gonna walk
And wile Im thinking baby, tell me what did you do
Just interrupt goof times that should have been with my crew
I bring you down when I tell your boys
I wont be sitting here now waiting for your call
I aint some littel girl baby you know the score
Dont want to feel like Im not the only one
Baby you did me wrong
Im not your bitch
Dont trip - Im movin on
No man, no cry
No man pass on by
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
Im movin on
I said Im movin on
Im movin on and on, on
Movin on, movin on, movin
On, on, on
Said Im movin on
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played
Listen all you ladies cos the babes are takin over this place
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
Were here to tell you fellas that the babes are takin over your place
No man, no cry
No man thats all right
No we wont be played, be played no more
No man, no cry
No man tellin me lies
No we wont be played
song performed by by Sugababes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tradition, thou art for suckling children
Tradition, thou art for suckling children,
Thou art the enlivening milk for babes;
But no meat for men is in thee.
Then --
But, alas, we all are babes.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Upon the Day of the Holy Innocents
Mournful Iudah shreeks and cries
At the obsequies
Of their babes, that cry
More that they lose the paps, then that they die.
He that came with life to all,
Brings the babes a funeral,
To redeem from slaughter Him
Who did redeem us all from sin.
They like Himself went spotless hence,
A sacrifice to Innocence;
Which now does ride
Trampling upon Herod's pride:
Passing from their fontinels of clay
To heaven, a milky and a bloody way.
All their tears and groans are dead
And they to rest and glory fled.
Lord, Who wert pleased so many babes should fall
Whil'st each sword hop'd that every of the all
Was the desirèd king: make us to be
In innocence like them, in glory, Thee.
poem by Jeremy Taylor
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Hey Jack Kerouac
[ robert buck/natalie merchant ]
Hey jack kerouac, I think of your mother
And the tears she cried, she cried for none other
Than her little boy lost in our little world that hated
And that dared to drag him down. her little boy courageous
Who chose his words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
They all spoke through you.
Hey jack, now for the tricky part,
When you were the brightest star who were the shadows?
Of the san francisco beat boys you were the favorite.
Now they sit and rattle their bones and think of their blood stoned days.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
The hip flask slinging madman, steaming cafe flirts,
Nights in chinatown howling at night.
Allen baby, why so jaded?
Have the boys all grown up and their beauty faded?
Billy, what a saint theyve made you,
Just like mary down in mexico on all souls day.
You chose your words from mouths of babes got lost in the wood.
Cool junk booting madmen, street minded girls
In harlem howling at night.
What a tear stained shock of the world,
Youve gone away without saying goodbye.
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn Around
(malvina reynolds/allan greene/harry belafonte)
Where are you going my little one, little one
Where are you going my baby my own
Turn around and youre two
Turn around and youre four
Turn around and youre a young girl
Going out of the door
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young girl
Going out of the door
Where are you going my little one, little one
Little dirndls and petticoats, where are you know
Turn around and youre tiny
Turn around and youre grown
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
Turn around
Turn around
Turn around and youre a young wife
Turn around and youre a young wife
With babes of your own
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jessie
WHEN Jessie comes with her soft breast,
And yields the golden keys,
Then is it as if God caress'd
Twin babes upon His knees--
Twin babes that, each to other press'd,
Just feel the Father's arms, wherewith they both are bless'd.
But when I think if we must part,
And all this personal dream be fled--
O then my heart! O then my useless heart!
Would God that thou wert dead--
A clod insensible to joys and ills--
A stone remote in some bleak gully of the hills!
poem by Thomas Edward Brown
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MUSTY WOMEN...by Talile Ali
I SURE DO LOVE ME SOME
MUSTY WOMEN
TIE ME UP AND
DUST ME WOMEN
DON'T WANT NO GRANDMA'S
THO THERE ARE THOSE WHO DO
JUST WANT TO MAKE SOME LOVIN
TO SOMEONE NOT TOO DAMN OLD TO WOO
I DIG MUSTY WOMEN
AS THEY WORK OR PLAY
I LIKE MY MUSTY WOMEN
EVERY NIGHT, EVERY DAY
DOWN AT THE BEACH
BAKING IN THE SUN
WANNA PICK THEM UP
AND HAVE SOME FUN
I HAVE A NEED TO BE RECOGNIZED
BY THE SOME OF THOSE LIPS
AND THE SHAPE OF THOSE THIGHS
COME AND DANCE WITH ME AND ABANDON THOSE TIES
HERE I AM
LET ME COME TO YOU HERE
TO YOU, MUSTY BABES
GIVE YOU SOME OR MY CHEER
AT THE OFFICE
IN THE HALL
KEEP ME LEAD YOU
AS YOU SCRAWL
SOMETHING STICKY
OH SO ITCHY
MUSTY WOMEN DO IT ALL
AS WE EMBRACE THEIR ALL
DANCE AND SWING AND MAKE A TUSSLE
WIGGLING AND JIGGLING AND DOING MORE THAN A COUPLE
HAVING TO STEAL A LITTLE HERE AND A LITTLE THERE
FUN TO BE NAKED AND DOING IT, I SWEAR
OH MY GOODNESS
I AM A MESS
MUSTY WOMEN
AND GARGANTUAN BREAST
I CONFESS
I'M A MESS OVER
BUSTY, CRUSTY, NEVER TO DUSTY
LUSTY, MUSTY WOMEN
poem by Talile Ali
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There was crimson clash of war.
There was crimson clash of war.
Lands turned black and bare;
Women wept;
Babes ran, wondering.
There came one who understood not these things.
He said, "Why is this?"
Whereupon a million strove to answer him.
There was such intricate clamour of tongues,
That still the reason was not.
poem by Stephen Crane
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babe's are so blind...by Talile Ali
babe's like treachery
babe's like greed
babe's like being abused
allowing bad men to seed
babe's are intelligent
babes are kind
babe's are evil
when their man's loving not kind
i don't understand the reason
i don't even have the rhyme
maybe it's just the season
don't know why babe's are so pragmatically blind
babe's are lazy
babe's are feared
babe's will do what
a man won't for years
babe's are somethin else
that there's a fact
as final as prison
as deadly as smack
i don't understand the reason
i don't even have a rhyme
maybe it's just the season
don't know why babe's are so blind
poem by Talile Ali
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Mistaken Priorities - 0973 - Current Version
Mistakes we made are coming home to roost.
too little energy remains to boost.
A la recherche du temps perdu we flee
another act's attacked, the will to see
is often absent from the script, see Proust,
as 'havoc and the guns of war' are loosed.
We flee towards an end both known, unknown,
follow a path which our own past has sown,
here straight, there stony, everywhere its key
to city_zen in tune with Destiny
inscribed in cyphered symbols should be shown
not cast away, wind willy-nilly blown.
But fear of fear too often dissipates
impressions outlined by the hand that Fate's
swift moving finger writes for clarity,
when blind eye's turned, and spurned self charity,
then senseless seem priorities, debates
are blurred where truth all pride of place vacates.
When writing on the wall anticipates
the fall to come, the storm which tumbles dates
from palm oasis in whate'er degree.
mistakes are made as visibility
is lacking, insight dawning far too late
to save the game that Time's tides terminate.
the current lack.
Some look for truth, if truth there be, yet wait
on miracle that must emancipate
the will to change uncertain outlook find,
toil, trouble, hubble-bubble left behind.
But many fool themselves, prevaricate,
berating blindness they'd eliminate.
There's none so blind as those who will not see,
refuse to act where fact is found to be
in contradiction to lip-service paid
to hope for scope and insights wise obeyed
for actions much delayed must compromise
success where false excuse opt out supplies.
Today's priorities tomorrow fade,
turn sour before their zest to rest is laid,
dissolve distorted by Time's tug of war.
What all important seemed one day before,
incorporated into causal braid,
is trumped with basic instincts disobeyed.
Veils pulled full frontal, cloaked black burka maid
divorced from light by self-inflicted shade,
with passing sigh to signify too soon
both silver spoon and slum lie dumb, stilled tune.
Mistakes unmended leave man's world afraid
of shadows lack of confidence displayed.
What's left, sewn through waft-weft of life's rapports,
serves not, rots vision clear, fears what's in store
for others, for oneself - life's game is played
with Life ignoring Death's amoral spade.
Timed candle splutters, fame, flame rise no more,
darkness enshrouds those who hope's shutters draw.
(8 April 2010)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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From the mouths of babes and drunkards, you will learn the truth.