Uncleaned Sink
She loved Bach and listened
To him whenever she had the
Chance and while sitting listening
She gazed at her Picasso prints
And sipped the cola she mixed
With vodka and remembered
Ricans trying to make it with her
But she not interested in that
Side of being with him not wanting
To see the all too human side not
Wishing to see that aspect which
Made him all so much like everybody
Else just wanted that part of him
Which sat and listened to Bach and
Gazed at the Picasso prints sipping
Vodka and cola which she hoped made
Him think of higher things than sex
Drugs or the uncleaned bathroom sink.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I should have listened to God
I should have listened to God
When he said that it would end
I should have listened to God
And been just friends
I should have listened to God
Before it was too late
I should have listened to God
But now I deal with fate
I should have listened to God
That it would break my heart
I should have listened to God
That it would fall apart
I should have listened to God
Because he loves me in everyway
I should have listened to God
And all that he had to say
I should have listened to God
And show what he made me to be
I should have listened to God
But I know he has forgiven me!
The Last Picasso
Words and music by neil diamond
The last picasso, the last picasso was just acquired by some old museum, and don quixote, well don quixote the old mans rhyme has lost its reason; which only reminds me have I remembered to say that without you this life of plenty, would seem so empty, the last picasso. oh me and you--me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. the last picasso, the last picasso may gather dust amid the ruins, and don quixote, well don quixote may no longer make his wishful tunes; but I still have you and I will have you when evrything else is gone and done with. well be like one with the last picasso. oh me and you--me oh me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. oh, me and you--me oh me oh me oh me oh me and you-- we, we can sigh--me oh me oh me oh me oh we can sigh. oh, me and you--we we can sigh me oh me oh me oh we can sign. oh, me and you.
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picasso Is...
Picasso is...
Picasso transcends mortality.
Picasso is fury artistic dynamics in motion.
Picasso always moving in styles
to new levels of artistic perception
through seen seam fractures
of shift broken molten imagery.
Picasso is walking through walls.
Picasso is rebirth in conception.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bollicine
Piccolo spazio pubblicit
piccolo spazio pubblicit
radio superstereoradio
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola!
Bevi la coca cola che ti fa bene
bevi la coca cola che ti fa digerire
con tutte quelle, tutte quelle bollicine....
Coca cola s coca cola... a me mi fa morire...
coca cola s coca cola...a me mi fa impazzire...
con tutte quelle tutte quelle bollicine...
brrrr!!!
Piccolo spazio pubblicit
"l'angolo della posta"
Piccolo spazio pubblicit!
radio superstereoradio
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola
coca....cola!
Coca cola chi
coca cola chi vespa mangia le mele
coca cola chi
coca chi non vespa pi e mangia le pere...
con tutte quelle tutte quelle medicine...
Io la coca cola me la porto a scuola coca cola chi
coca cola coca-casa-e-chiesa, scuola
con tutte quelle tutte quelle bollicine!!!
Coca cola...
e sei protagonista!!
Coca cola...
per l'uomo che non deve chiedere.....mai!!!
..con tutte quelle tutte quelle bollicine...
Coca cosa?????
coca cola!!!!!
coca cola!!
...e sai cosa bevi.....
...con tutte quelle tutte quelle bollicine...
....................................
io la coca cola me la porto a scuola
coca cola s coca cola coca-casa-e-chiesa.....
song performed by by Vasco Rossi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Story Made
The table with its sunshade wide,
listened to the chattering.
Old and young sat side by side
around it, gaily nattering.
The birds perched nearby in the trees,
listened to the chattering
rising up on a light breeze.
Indeed the sounds were shattering.
The sun that shone down from the sky,
listened to the chattering.
Knew that once the rain came by,
there would be gentle pattering.
The young and old who felt the drops,
ceased to do the chattering.
Went indoors under rooftops,
resuming their loud yattering.
The sunshade dripping from the hail,
listened to the chattering.
Felt so sorry for a snail,
getting such a harsh battering.
The chairs where everyone had sat,
listened to the chattering.
Many were now lying flat.
there had been quite a scattering.
And so all these things a story made,
all about the chattering.
The elements well displayed,
when all received a splattering.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once I understood Bach's music, I wanted to be a concert pianist. Bach made me dedicate my life to music, and it was that teacher who introduced me to his world.
quote by Nina Simone
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Things Go Better With Coke #1
Orbison/dees
Roy orbison wants to get together again
Baby, how it hurts to break up, but its so much fun to make up
Lets do the things we used to do, you love me and I love you
Lets talk again, joke again lets get together for a coke again
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Lets relive the date that we just broke, our favorite cafe, the special of the day
The jukebox playing, things go better with coke
Well, waiter, waiter, treat us right, you remember what we like
Shes back again, by my side again, waiter, we want to feel alive again
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
I;m glad we kept the date we almost broke, our favorite cafe, the special of the day
The jukebox playing, things go better with coke
(spoken) you never get tired of its taste coke after coke
Things go better with coke #2
Orbison/dees
Roy orbison takes a break
Stayed out too late, at work at eight, dont wanna wait for that ten o clock break
Big man, if you can, let me go for a coke right now
For things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Ill get caught up if youll let me stop for a coke, a big tall frosty ice cold bottle of coke
Fun goes better with, food goes better with, people go better with coke
The real live one puts extra fun in you and everything you do
Big man, let me take a five minute break, things go better with coke, things go better with coke
(spoken) sometimes on big jobs I drink coke after coke after coke
And I never get tired of the taste
Yeah, things go better with coke
Things go better with coke #3
Orbison/dees
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Life is fun when youre refreshed and coke refreshes you the best, ah-ah
Fun goes better with, food goes better with, people go better with coke
The real live one puts extra fun in you and everything you do
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Life is fun when youre refreshed and coke refreshes you the best
So things go better with coca cola, yeah, things go better with coke
Things go better with coke #4
Orbison/dees
C-o-c-a c-o-l-a
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Life is much more fun when youre refreshed
Food goes better with, fun goes better with, you go better with coke
The real live one puts extra fun in you and everything you do
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with
Things go better with coke
C-o-c-a c-o-l-a
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with.....coke
Things go better with coke #5
Orbison/dees
C-o-c-a c-o-l-a
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with coke
Life is much more fun when youre refreshed
Food and fun and you go better with
Things go better with coca cola, things go better with.....coke
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way We Were
sipping one coffee
licking same ice cream on the cone
spraying same perfume
drinking one coca-cola
eating same slice of pizza
bathing together
sleeping in one bed cover
one fried egg sunny side up
seeing through
one empty hole of dunkin' doughnut
laughing on grin jokes
holding hands while walking
on the boulevard
admiring the sunset
sitting on the bench
under the moon
your head resting on my shoulder
kisses for the night
we made love....
how can we ever forget?
the way we were
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fractured Reality Picasso Clarification
No one can convey a fractured broken reality
as masterfully as Picasso
his Guernica render is the most realistic
rendering of media mediated Guera Guera
not his fault the consequences were surreal
Picasso is so broad a human no one should reduce
and cubic is perspective shift
put in a surreal 'ism'
Picasso is my enemy I will overcome him
so as to reduce his breadth
Cube(ism) is not an all inclusive stand
Picasso is my best friend
I will always admire him
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There is nothing like a Bach fugue to remove me from a discordant moment... only Bach hold up fresh and strong after repeated playing. I can always return to Bach when the other records weary me.
quote by Edward Weston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last to Leave
The guns were silent, and the silent hills
had bowed their grasses to a gentle breeze
I gazed upon the vales and on the rills,
And whispered, "What of these?' and "What of these?
These long forgotten dead with sunken graves,
Some crossless, with unwritten memories
Their only mourners are the moaning waves,
Their only minstrels are the singing trees
And thus I mused and sorrowed wistfully
I watched the place where they had scaled the height,
The height whereon they bled so bitterly
Throughout each day and through each blistered night
I sat there long, and listened - all things listened too
I heard the epics of a thousand trees,
A thousand waves I heard; and then I knew
The waves were very old, the trees were wise:
The dead would be remembered evermore-
The valiant dead that gazed upon the skies,
And slept in great battalions by the shore.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Memories and Marks
Foot prints in the sand
Tell their story
Side by side they stood
Right at sunset
As the sun was shining it's last rays
As the silver moon overtook
They kissed
Everything was perfect
Love was everywhere
Happy as could be
They walked
Leaving behind foot prints
A tangible mark
Eventually washed away
By waves of blue
But the memory remains
poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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0016 Orpheus - or his lute?
It was his listening; he listened
to himself; he listened to himself
listening to his lute; his lute perforce
listened to itself; listened to itself
listening to him..listened to
the measures of all things, even
the measures of mankind..
space, air, listened to his listening;
listened as the eagle made a silent,
perfect circle around a centre in its mind
high above Delphi that clear morning;
listened to the silent cliffs across the gorge,
silently ominous in their listening;
the stream which trickles down past the carved theatre,
cool and clear enough to wash your face;
look up the mountain and hope it sacred, holy; it
plashes like curiosity pursued, down towards the river
which is a mere pencil line at the bottom of the gorge
in this so unexpected place;
the sea barely visible in the distance,
misty with its myths unspoken;
space listened and loved his music, allowed this scene;
a cool air, this morning elsewhere hot, descends gently
down the mountain to the gorge, curves past these rocks
where a dark shadow here or there
could be where the Sibyl listened too.
we thought, boarding the hot bus,
that we were tourists; then we looked,
became pilgrims; then something more,
more like worshippers of the unknown god
whose altar we left behind in Athens,
silent beyond questions,
listening to the space
as if the space itself
listened to some instrument well tuned,
a voice perhaps, silent, powerful.
the sun, the sunlight, moved from rock to rock
this cool, clear morning, waking
clumps of sparse bright flowers, woken
again by morning bees
who may be unaware – or born to know—
they forage at a world heritage site as do we visitors,
at Delphi, where still truth speaks in silence;
bees who listen to each other,
dance their satnav trails,
listen inwardly to flowers,
to honey, and what else
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coca-Cola
This American life,
This African life,
This Australian life,
And this style of our lives all over the world!
But the bottles of the Coca-Cola will remind us of its roots.
In the name of Coca-Cola,
The number one soft drink in the world!
But the seven unknown secret-ingredients are with the muse of life,
And the source of the Company started from Atlanta.
In the name of Coca-Cola,
It is now produced in over 200 countries! !
But what started as a medicament (sold in the drug stores) ,
Is now the people's number one choice!
And the seven unknown secret-ingredients had made Coca-Cola what it is today;
But John Pemberton founded it.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Part Of The Deal
Had I known being knocked about,
And publicly humiliated...
For choosing a path no one else walked upon,
Was going to be part of the deal...
Of keeping things real,
WITH commitment to reveal...
AND with a matched devotion?
Would I have made the same decision,
To endure sacrificing and criticisms?
Well...
It is much easier today to say 'yes' I would.
However,
If I knew now what I had to go through 'then'...
I would still be sitting somewhere procrastinating,
The depth of my wishing with a wanting...
For my dreams to come true!
I can only thank God...
My craving to taste was more than the obstacles,
In my face I had to eliminate.
Do you realize how difficult it is,
To keep your eyes focused with a looking ahead?
And not keep them moving from side to side?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Picasso's always been such a huge influence that I thought when I started the cartoon paintings that I was getting away from Picasso, and even my cartoons of Picasso were done almost to rid myself of his influence.
quote by Roy Lichtenstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Said She Was A Dancer
She said she was a dancer. if I believed it, it was my busines
She surely knew a thing or two about control.
Next to the bar we hit the samovar. she almost slipped right through my fingers.
It was snowing outside and in her soul.
Well, maybe youre a dancer, and maybe Im the king of old siam.
I thought it through... best to let the illusion roll.
I wouldnt say Ive never heard that tale before,
My frozen little seorita,
But if your dream is good, why not share it when the nights are cold?
Hey moscow, whats your story? lady, take your time, dont hurry.
Maybe a student of the agricultural plan.
Hey moscow, whats your name? if you dont want to say, dont worry.
It would probably be hard for me to make it scan.
With her phrase book in her silk soft hand
She spoke in riddles while the vodka listened.
I said, ''let me look up love, if I might be so bold.
She was the nearest thing to rock and roll
That side of the velvet curtain
That separates eastern steel from western gold.
Hey miss moscow, whats your story?
You neednt speak aloud, just whisper.
Am I just the closest thing to an englishman?
Youve seen me in your magazines, or maybe on state television.
Im your pepsi-cola, but you wont take me out the can.
She said she was a dancer --- so she did.
She said she was a dancer. if I believed it, it was my business.
It felt like a merry dance that I was being led.
So I stole one kiss. it was a near miss.
She looked at me like I was jack the ripper.
She leaned in close. ''goodnight, was all she said.
So I took myself off to bed.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Picasso Imaginable Thing...
two faces of a woman 7: 32 AM
ah 7: 32 AM
picasso 7: 32 AM
mooo 7: 32 AM
ah 7: 33 AM
is that what it is 7: 33 AM
pain and happiness? 7: 33 AM
wa ko kabalo ana 7: 33 AM
picasso has a painting of a woman with two faces 7: 33 AM
i hav seen picasso's work 7: 33 AM
havent you seen it? 7: 33 AM
never realized that 7: 33 AM
yes cubism 7: 33 AM
he explained that to me while we were in barcelona spain 7: 34 AM
(har har har) 7: 34 AM
hahahha 7: 34 AM
good one 7: 34 AM
poor bald picasso 7: 34 AM
travel jud ang mind 7: 34 AM
still having lots of erections despite his ugly legs 7: 34 AM
mao ba? 7: 35 AM
hoe did u know that/ 7: 35 AM
how 7: 35 AM
the indefatigable picasso 7: 35 AM
wow 7: 35 AM
we were in the brothels of paris with alexander pope 7: 35 AM
hahaah 7: 35 AM
mahilig jud ang artist no 7: 35 AM
honestly, i have the book 7: 35 AM
good 7: 36 AM
the writers in europe sometimes find themselved in reunion and communion with whores and drink red whores beer together 7: 36 AM
yes! Edgar Degas too 7: 37 AM
my fav
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faith In Vodka Tears
'those vodka weeping
Russians
those vodka weeping
Russians
crying vodka tears'
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in communism
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in orthodox religion
lost loss of faith
loss of faith in devastated souls
will Russian soul thaw regenerate?
socialist history of faith
under Lenin Stalin Communism
under suppressed orthodox religion
devastated souls did not regenerate...
vodka soothed Russian soul
crying vodka tears
defensive history of faith
under aggressive invasion bestial Nazism
vodka seemed to fire the Russian soul
crying vodka tears
without faith they cry vodka tears
with faith they cry vodka tears
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Max Wanted
What do you want from me?
Max's wife said
and he looked by her
at the waitress
at the cafe
who was walking
with some order
behind his wife's back
and he noticed
the cute ass as she moved
the way she swayed
and the hands
holding the tray
huh? What is it
you want from me?
his wife repeated
her eyes peering at him
taking in
that aspect of him
as he turned his head
look said Max
following the waitress
to the table across the way
his eyes slowly
undressing her
his mind making up scenes
like in some movie
you say come on Honey
let's go out for a meal
and talk
and what are you doing
looking elsewhere
and not talking
his wife said
spittle on her lower lip
Max looked back
at his wife and said
oh yes sure
I was thinking
of the Picasso print
we saw the other day
you know that one
we both liked
and you said you'd like it
for your birthday
well maybe
I ought to get it
what do you think?
And the waitress
looked over at Max
as she went by
and he saw
a whole new ball game
in her eyes
and caught the cheek
and ear
and was sure
he captured some aspect
of her perfume
and his wife said
Picasso?
That Picasso?
are you sure Max?
and she went into a daze
and smiled
and Max imagined himself
and the waitress
and sex games
and a party
going wild.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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