Doth I Protest Too Much
I'm not threatened, by every pair of legs you watch go by
I don't cringe when you stare at women, it's just a thing called guy
I don't notice your side ways glances or where your loyalty lies
I'm secure and out of me, it's hard to get a rise
I'm not jealous
I don't get moved my much
I'm not enraged
Not insecure as such
Not going insane
Rational stays in touch
Doth I protest too much?
I'm not tortured by how oft your busy, Cause I've got things to do
I'm not needy
I don't get clingy much
I'm not scared
I'm not afraid as such
I'm not dependent
Rock solid, stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?
So much energy to prove to you
Who I can't possibly be
So much energy to prove to you
I'm not who you hate for me to be
I'm not saddened
And I don't miss you
Cause I have moved on too
I'm not concerned about your new lover
Cause I have a new lover too
I'm not depressed
I don't get down that much
I'm not despondent
I am not dark as such
I'm never sad
Keep Chin Up, Stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?
I'm not jealous
I don't get moved my much
I'm not enraged
Not insecure as such
Not going insane
Rational stays in touch
And Doth I protest too much?
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
If You Feed It Good
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes.
And,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
I'm not gonna mock you anymore,
'Cause you're good to me.
You don't have to knock,
On that unlocked door.
No more...
I'll rock your needs
When we get it heated! .
Now,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Just feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Don't shout or scream,
To be mean and demean.
I'm not your enemy.
Nor do I owe a thing....
To ya!
You can pout with a frown,
Thinking it will bring me down.
To be around...
For your clown count!
To the ground.
But,
If you feed it good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Just,
Feed it good...
And it stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
Like it should.
Feed it good.
Yes,
Feed it real good...
It stays fresh.
It stays the best,
One can get!
And,
Keep that in your head,
And let it feed real good!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Bewailing The Time Of Christmas, So Much Decayed In England
Christmas is my name, for have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,
Have I gone without regard;
Whereas great men by flocks they be flown to Londonward
Where in pomp and pleasure do waste
That which Christmas had wont to feast,
Welladay!
Houses where music was wonted to ring,
Nothing but bats and owls now do sing.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Christmas bread and beef is turned into stones, into stones, into stones,
Into stones and silken rags.
And Lady Money, it doth sleep, it doth sleep, it doth sleep,
It doth sleep in misers' bags.
Where many gallants once abound,
Nought but a dog and shepherd is found,
Welladay!
Places where Christmas revels did keep
Are now become habitations for sheep.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Pan, the shepherds' god, doth deface, doth deface, doth deface,
Doth deface Lady Ceres' crown;
And tillages doth decay, doth decay, doth decay,
Doth decay in every town;
Landlords their rents so highly enhance
That Piers the ploughman barefoot doth dance,
Welladay!
Farmers that Christmas would entertain
Hath scarcely withal themselves to maintain.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Go to the Protestant, he'll protest, he'll protest, he'll protest,
He will protest and boldly boast;
And to the Puritan, he is so hot, he is so hot, he is so hot,
He is so hot he will burn the roast.
The Catholic good deeds will not scorn,
Nor will he see poor Christmas forlorn,
Welladay!
Since holiness no good deeds will do,
Protestants had best turn Papists too.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Pride and luxury doth devour, doth devour, doth devour,
Doth devour housekeeping quite,
And beggary doth beget, doth beget, doth beget,
Doth beget in many a knight.
Madam, forsooth, in coach must she reel
Although she wear her hose out at heel,
Welladay!
And on her back were that for her weed
That would both me and many other feed,
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Briefly for to end, here I find, here I find, here I find,
Here I find such great vacation
That some great houses do seem to have, seem to have, seem to have,
For to have some great purgation:
With purging pills such effects they have showed
That out of doors their owners they have spewed.
Welladay!
And when Christmas goes by and calls,
Nothing but solitude and naked walls.
Welladay, welladay, welladay, where should I stay?
Philomel's cottages are turned into gold, into gold,
Into gold for harboring Joan;
And great men's houses up for to hold, up for to hold,
Up for to hold, make great men moan;
But in the city they say they do live
Where gold by handfuls away they do give,
Welladay!
And, therefore, thither I purpose to pass,
Hoping at London to find the Golden Ass.
I'll away, I'll away, I'll away, I'll no longer stay.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Time When I First Fell In Love
The time when first I fell in love,
Which now I must lament;
The year wherein I lost such time
To compass my content.
The day wherein I saw too late
The follies of a lover;
The hour wherein I found such loss
As care cannot recover.
And last, the minute of mishap,
Which makes me thus to plain
The doleful fruits of lover's suits,
Which labour lose in vain:
Doth make me solemnly protest,
As I with pain do prove,
There is no time, year, day, nor hour,
Nor minute, good to love.
The Time When I First Fell In Love
The time when first I fell in love,
Which now I must lament;
The year wherein I lost such time
To compass my content.
The day wherein I saw too late
The follies of a lover;
The hour wherein I found such loss
As care cannot recover.
And last, the minute of mishap,
Which makes me thus to plain
The doleful fruits of lover's suits,
Which labour lose in vain:
Doth make me solemnly protest,
As I with pain do prove,
There is no time, year, day, nor hour,
Nor minute, good to love.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sister to Sister
'When I received that love which is a face,
When I perceived that face which is a love,
Two voices, like those two old nations, strove
Within my heart, and the first-born gave place
And served the younger. 'Ah this golden space
Doth cage the airy pinions of my dove!
And ah this value, which might prove and more
Another love, seems simony to the grace
Of ours!' Thus while one passion doth protest,
The other cries: 'I care not how it be!
For, givest thou much or little, worst or best,
Nor am I richer nor thou dispossest;
My fond subtraction is still thine in me,
And all thy dear remainder mine in thee!''
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 151
Love is too young to know what conscience is,
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove;
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body’s treason.
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love—flesh stays no father reason,
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize—proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her "love" for whose dear love I rise and fall.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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To sin in silence while others doth protest makes cowards out of men.
quote by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is
Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove.
For thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason,
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call,
Her "love" for whose dear love I rise and fall.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jealous Lover
Lost and lonely
Clouds hide the sun
Out on the highway
It's all hit and run
Cold empty nights
Demons in my head
It's something I did
Or baby something you said
And it's hard to discover
That you're just another
Jealous Lover
And its so tough to take
But you're making no mistake
Jealous Lover
Oh Yeah
Don't want no other
Shades of red
Eyes of green
Sees black and white
And there's no in between
Ask me no questions
I'll tell you no lies
Still you keep thinking
That it's all alibis
And it's hard to discover
You're like any other
Jealous Lover
And you're saying I'm a fake
But you're making a mistake
Oh, no no
Every day it's the same
The faces and the names
How long can I go on
Playing this game
So I live for the nights
Soft candle lights
Today they love you
Then tomorrow they might
And it's hard to face
Someone else takes your place
Jealous Lover
And they're saying that's the brakes
But I got what it takes
Jealous Lover, ohh oh
Jealous Lover
Jealous Lover
Don't need no, no no
Don't need no other
Jealous Lover, yeah
Jealous Lover
song performed by by Rainbow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soft Music
The mellow touch of music most doth wound
The soul, when it doth rather sigh, than sound.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bottled Up
Mind frenzied?
Feeling under pressure...
Knowing you have had enough.
And those you know,
Have troubles too.
And no one stays in touch.
So they keep it bottled up.
Hoping for a taste of luck.
And pray they do,
Like you do too...
With hopes to not give up.
Yes, they keep this bottled up.
Trying to not slip in a rut.
But there's just so much that one can do,
Before they bust a gut.
I wouldn't keep it bottled up.
Why would you do that and for what?
Just to show how much your mind can take...
To prove that you can fake,
Heartache?
Why keep it bottled up?
To prove to who and what?
That you can be both brave and crazy...
With a mind that's out of touch?
Give those thoughts right up!
Don't let them bust your gut.
Pray for patience,
And see it for what it is!
Too much is just too much!
Why keep it bottled up?
To prove to who and what?
That you can be both brave and crazy...
With a mind that's out of touch?
If that's what 'you' want...
I'm not one to argue about your needs.
What whatever pleases you,
That's 'you'.
Don't push that stuff on me!
I'm not going to hold onto steam...
That wants to blow.
If it wants to go...
I'm glad to let it!
And hopefully,
I'm in a safety zone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Community
Good we must love, and must hate ill,
For ill is ill, and good good still;
But there are things indifferent,
Which wee may neither hate, nor love,
But one, and then another prove,
As we shall find our fancy bent.
If then at first wise Nature had
Made women either good or bad,
Then some wee might hate, and some choose;
But since she did them so create,
That we may neither love, nor hate,
Only this rests, all all may use.
If they were good it would be seen;
Good is as visible as green,
And to all eyes itself betrays.
If they were bad, they could not last;
Bad doth itself, and others waste;
So they deserve nor blame, nor praise.
But they are ours as fruits are ours;
He that but tastes, he that devours,
And he that leaves all, doth as well;
Changed loves are but changed sorts of meat;
And when he hath the kernel eat,
Who doth not fling away the shell?
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You Who Have Never Been There....
what then doth the bird
learn from the cage?
what doth the bare limb
learn from the snow?
what doth the starving child
learn from his hunger?
what doth the homeless man
learn from the lighted window?
what doth the oppressed
learn from his oppression?
what doth the one discriminated against
learn from discrimination?
what doth the hopeless one
learn from his despair?
is it that easy for you to know,
you who have never been there?
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Shall Not Be Moved
You will take my breath away,
Gild my heart with your love-
I shall not be moved.
My eyes will gloat at your sashay,
My lips will droll at your pulchritude-
I shall not be moved.
You will come with religions of faiths,
A heap of mountains you have moved-
Still I shall not be moved.
You will give me strongest of philtres,
Your touch will erect my one weakness-
But I shall not be moved.
You will light my darkest paths,
Move me here to there-
Yet I shall not be moved.
You will sing our song,
Your love for me will exceed eternity,
Even then, I shall not be moved.
You will live for me,
Die for me- For the last time-
I shall not be moved.
poem by Isunge Mwangase
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sinners
He fell for her daughter;
She fell for him later.
There came in no protest.
He engaged them both.
***
He fell for her mother;
She fell for him later.
From them came no protest.
He engaged them both.
***
He fell for his neigbour;
His son too fell for her.
Silence was the protest.
She fed them both alike.
***
A mother was his beloved;
Her daughter was his son’s.
Wordless was the protest.
Each engaged the other.
***
Sinners make friends
19.10.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hamlet: Madam, how like you this play?
Gertrude: The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
line from Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Jealous Lover
To all of those who had their doubts
Now those doubts... I forgive them
To everyone whos led one life
Then love life... its humble rhythm
To all of those who harbour dreams
All you get... is what youre given
Meanwhile the maximum... maximum goes down
Right from the start
I knew youd break my heart
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Rope tied and bound
I been lost and found
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Jealous of my loving
Jealous of my leaving...jealous
Jealous of my living
Jealous of my breathing
Jealous lover... jealous lover
If all they say and do were true
Just like you... Id be with em
But lies survive... and cut right through
While the truth... remains forbidden
For every single point of view
Then theres two... that must be hidden
Meantime the maximum... maximum goes down
Right from the start
I knew youd break my heart
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Rope tied and bound
I been lost and found
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Jealous of my loving
Jealous of my leaving...jealous
Jealous of my living
Jealous of my breathing
Jealous lover... theres no other
Meantime - the maximum... maximum
Nothing more and nothing less
Grip tight - the maximum... the maximum
You say no... I say yes
Dont be... dont be... dont be
Jealous lover - jealous lover
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anyone
Anyone stays at a place
where he feels comfortable
or find no place to stay
and anyone chooses a mate,
if he wants to or can
and someone stays alone.
For the beautiful and the ugly,
little and small
and for the aged and the young
and for anyone,
the same sun and moon and stars shine
and the same seasons past.
Anyone works and sleep
and laughs and cry
and play and fight,
till the sun’s last rays
touch a life.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doth Then The World Go Thus?
Doth then the world go thus? doth all thus move?
Is this the justice which on earth we find?
Is this that firm decree which all doth bind?
Are these your influences, Powers above?
Those souls, which vice's moody mists most blind,
Blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove;
And they who thee, poor idol Virtue! love,
Ply like a feather tossed by storm and wind.
Ah! if a Providence doth sway this all,
Why should best minds groan under most distress?
Or why should pride humility make thrall,
And injuries the innocent oppress?
Heavens! hinder, stop this fate; or grant a time
When good may have, as well as bad, their prime!
poem by William Henry Drummond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At This Moment Of My Life
at this moment of my life
there is nothing to prove
nothing to build anymore
all beginnings have found
their sought endings
there is nothing to see
everything have seen what
they ought to see
there is nothing to feel
everything had been felt before
there is nothing to fear
everything is so near
there is something to touch
it is light it is fire.
it is at the tip of my finger
it stays on my tongue
and my heart keeps on singing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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