I Don’t Understand Mom And Dad
I don’t understand Mom and Dad
how come Dad can do things
and I’m not allowed
like Dad can drink beer
but I’m not allowed
I asked mom “How come Dad can drink
and I’m not allowed? ”
And Mom said:
“Cos it doesn’t make a difference in his case”
But I don't get it, Mom!
and the other day
I asked Mom if I could join
Dad in the deep end of the pool
and Mom said “No”
and I said “How come Dad can do it? ”
and Mom says
“Cos Dad’s got insurance”
But I don't get it, Mom!
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Should Be Allowed To Think
I saw the best minds of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I saw the worst bands of my generation
Applied by magic marker to dry wall
I should be allowed to shoot my mouth off
I should have a call in show
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim, one occurs to me
If necessary, leave paper stains on the grey utility pole
I am not allowed
To ever come up with a single original thought
I am not allowed
To meet the criminal government agent who oppresses me
I was the worst hope of my generation
Destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical
I should be allowed to share my feelings
I should be allowed to feel
I should be allowed to glue my poster
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
I should be allowed to think
And I should be allowed to blurt the merest idea
If by random whim one occurs to me
But sadly, this can never be
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
I am not allowed to think (I am not allowed to think)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Am I Allowed
Am I allowed
To wish not to breathe?
Am I allowed
To skip over tomorrow?
And,
Am I allowed
Not to believe,
Who it is that speaks.
Or,
Whom everybody follows?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
To want my own needs?
Am I allowed
Not to beg or borrow.
Am I allowed
Not to be deceived,
By who those that I know
Are low, lazy and shallow?
Am I allowed
My own company?
Am I allowed
To float or row my boat?
And,
Am I allowed
To see what I see,
Who it is that show
Not which way to go?
Am I allowed
To wish not to breathe?
Am I allowed
To skip over tomorrow?
And,
Am I allowed
Not to believe,
Who it is that speaks.
Or,
Whom everybody follows?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Got Caught
I ‘'borrowed'' some money from my bank,
Around a million bucks,
Now I'm languishing in the pen,
The financial system sucks.
I only did what others do,
That was to speculate,
I would have paid it back to them,
But the judge said that didn't equate.
I told her I was innocent,
It was just a bit of fun,
She asked me if that was the case,
Why did I need a gun.
I said I'd never have used it,
It was purely used for fright,
For when they seen my weapon,
They'd maybe see the light.
While I only stole a million,
The bosses steal more than me,
Yet none of them are by my side,
They're all out there bloody free.
If only they had not refused,
When I asked them for a loan,
They told me I had no chance,
It's like getting blood from a stone.
Just like them I helped myself,
Yet mine is classed as crime,
While the bankers rob us blind,
I'm in here doing time.
So the moral of this story is,
If you're going to rob a bank,
Make sure you get the managers job,
Then the police you can outflank.
While they're allowed to help themselves,
With no need to feel distraught,
The banker and me are so alike,
The difference is,
‘'I Got Caught''
Obras De Arte
it is all art
there is not much intelligence
all decors
nothing functional like a picture
of a garden of roses
there is no scent
just words imagining the world
of their existence somewhere
it is all style
there is no bread and butter and
coffee
tea is prohibited and
smoking sometimes is allowed
as coping up
mechanism so with a little drink
that takes another drink
beer, rum,
vodka and the tequila against
the rising sun
in the desert
obra maestra he will justify it
no lasting
but keeps on saying
something too trivial
sometimes is too precious
that it is not
for sale
only for reading.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Country Club
(Catesby Jones/Dennis Lord)
I took a double take out on the interstate
When I saw her makin' eyes at me
So I followed her down - the clubhouse drive
Past the pool on the 18th green
In the parkin' lot...I said it's mighty hot
Maybe I could buy you a beer
She said I'm glad you asked...but I'll have to pass
Cause only members are allowed in here...and I said
Well I'm a member of a country club
Country music is what I love
I drive an old Ford pick-up truck
I do my drink-in from a dixie cup
Yea I'm a bona-fide dancin' fool
I shoot a mighty mean game of pool
At any honky-tonk roadside pub
I'm a member of a country club
You look so invitin'...thought it might be excitin'
For a woman with a limousine
To go bouncin around...in a beat up truck
With a man...in wore out jeans
It's five o'clock before Friday night
Here's where the fun begins
So don't worry 'bout your reputation
Cause you can tell all your friends
Well I'm a member of a country club
Country music is what I love
I drive an old Ford pick-up truck
I do my drink-in from a dixie cup
Yea I'm a bona-fide dancin' fool
I shoot a mighty mean game of pool
At any honky-tonk roadside pub
I'm a member of a country club
Well I'm a member of a country club
Country music is what I love
I drive an old Ford pick-up truck
I do my drink-in from a dixie cup
Yea I'm a bona-fide dancin' fool
I shoot a mighty mean game of pool
At any honky-tonk roadside pub
I'm a member of a country club
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two things are desired in order that intercourse may be had: First, that a minister or agent be allowed to reside at the capital. Second, that commerce between different countries be freely allowed.
quote by Townsend Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bewteen You and Me: I
An abstract evening
Lungs drew in
The smell of dusk:
Vehicular exhaust
Fuming oil
And extra brewed tea too
On the side walk
You allowed me to hold your hand
We jumped from one side walk to the other
Won't you hold mine, I asked
But I allowed you to hold mine...
You replied contemplating
Your next step...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After we have calmly stood by and allowed monopolies to grow fat, we should not be asked to make them bloated.
quote by John Griffin Carlisle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I try to exist in a world where there is freedom of opinion, where you're allowed to make jokes. I don't want to live in some PC world where no-one's allowed to say anything.
quote by Boy George
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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But I am not allowed to speak to foreigners and I am not allowed to leave the country. So I'm not so happy.
quote by Mordechai Vanunu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You've Allowed This To Happen
We teach.
They learn.
And they pass on these lessons taught.
We cry.
We sigh.
And our behavior we deny.
Hiding from that,
We attract to seek...
Until it is caught.
And nothing we do is comprehended.
Or pretend what it is begins to offend.
Nothing we do,
Seems to us enough to defend.
We point our fingers.
And over again accuse them.
The 'others'
For our negligence,
And lack of discipline.
Until everyone is blinded,
To a hindsight that runs into a brick wall.
With graffiti written tall that appalls...
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
And yet this message,
Is ignored by all.
We teach.
They learn.
And they pass on these lessons taught.
We cry.
We sigh.
And our behavior we deny.
Hiding from that,
We sought and attracted.
Reacting as if,
We did not crave the satisfaction.
We point our fingers.
And over again accuse them...
The 'others'
For our negligence,
And lack of discipline.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
And that message is whitewashed.
As if nothing on the wall,
Had been written at all.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN.
YOU'VE ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN...
From Sunrise to nightfall.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Too Often Egos Win
Misunderstandings opens the door,
To comprehension.
If allowed.
And it may come with some pain.
However...
The prospects of a process of healing,
Begins some kind of a mending done.
Truth...
If kept in prolonged denial,
Can hurt.
The unacceptance of it...
Can devastate and create undo agony.
If allowed.
Some mindsets forbid this!
Unwilling to forgive and forget.
To bridge the gap between misunderstanding,
Comprehension and accepting truth...
Reduces conflict on many levels.
If allowed.
But tremendous egos,
Can kill any relationship.
No matter what the subject is!
And too often,
Egos win!
To misunderstand...
Again and again!
To understand what it is they wish,
From a limited perspective...
That seeks stubbornly to be understood.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please mom
Please mom
Why don’t you think of others first
Before you do things like that
Those words hurt
Levi isn’t the only child
I don’t like it when you drink
You do things you don’t mean
And it hurts.
Please mom
I love you mom but I wished you’d stop
You say you love me to but im not sure if you mean it
It hurts and Ive told you and you said you don’t understand
When I know you do.
Please mom
When you lie it makes me mad
I asked for the truth and you just lauph
Like im a kid that just doesn’t understand
Im old enough now and im tired of your crap.
Please mom
poem by Java Chillers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I was in Asia and people asked me about being considered sex symbol. I don't know if that's good or not, because where I come from, sex isn't something you're allowed to talk about.
ELECTION DAY TOMORROW May 1st,2011
No binding referendums or death with dignity allowed,
No compulsory voting set by the establishment crowd,
And what media moguls don’t like, is swept under the rug,
Nothing can change so the Ottawa bureaucracy is smug.
No death penalty allowed by the politically correct,
But appointed Supreme Court allowed abortion-clinics defect,
Activists want injection sites for criminal drug addicts,
Maybe in between the abortion clinics but no conflicts.
And convicts seem to have little problems getting a weekend pass,
By soft parole boards or wardens or some other jackass,
But binding referendums are forbidden and not allowed,
And they wonder why so few bother to vote under this cloud.
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Christmas Day At The Bunkhouse (Fun Poem 47)
It was Christmas day at the bunkhouse
everyone had sat down for a meal
when through the door walked a goat.
He stood and looked around,
then continued to eat an artichoke.
When he finished he sat and asked for a drink,
someone got up and gave him a bowel of water.
The goat looked at the offering with disgust.
Ain’t you got anything stronger that that?
Of course, we have, came the reply.
Well pour me out some the goats said,
and put some mud in my eye.
Someone had some scotch whiskey
and took the bottle out,
then gave the goat a dram.
The goat sniffed it, and then downed it
all in one swallow.
He then asked for more
saying his legs were still hollow.
Another dram was poured
and everyone was amazed to see,
an upside down goat
drinking a bottle of scotch whiskey.
The goat drank all day
and it drank all night.
The lights went out
and the old goat went to sleep.
He dreamed of himself
floating out the door
and all the way to heaven,
but when he got there,
St Peter wouldn’t let him in.
He said God will not tolerate
any drunken old goats here,
so you had better go back
and sleep it off, Billy.
Then put up a sign on the door.
No drunken old goats allowed,
signed by you know who.
You could always try
beneath the basement floor
he’ll greet you with a smile
and a shovel,
even make you hot and warm.
The moral of this story
whether you’re a goat or a man.
Don’t drink too much;
you could end up
jumping from the frying pan
and straight into the fire,
the one that they keep burning
permanently beneath the basement floor.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have A Drink On Me
Whiskey, gin and brandy
With a glass Im pretty handy
Im trying to walk a straight line
On sour mash and cheap wine
So join me for a drink boys
Were gonna make a big noise
So dont worry about tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
Well get hell to pay
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Yeah
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
On me
Come on
Dizzy, drunk and fightin
On tequila white lightnin
My glass is getting shorter
On whiskey, ice and water
So come on and have a good time
And get blinded out of your mind
So dont worry about tomorrow
Take it today
Forget about the cheque
Well get hell to pay
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
On me
Get stoned
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Yeah
Have a drink on me
Come on
Oooh
Gonna roll around
Gonna hit the ground
Take another swing
Have another drink
Gonna drink it dry
Gonna get me high
Come on all the boys
Make a noise
Chorus
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Have a drink oooooooon me
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vow Of Silence
Kron joins the monastery;
he must stay in isolation
and is allowed to say 2 words
every three years
3 years pass
and Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Cold room, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“Bad food, ” he says
3 years later
again Kron is brought before
the Elders
and he is allowed his 2 words
“I quit, ” he says
“Not surprising, ” say the Elders
“All you have done since you came here is to complain”
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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House Or Window Flies
These little window dwellers, in cottages and halls, were always
entertaining to me; after dancing in the window all day from sunrise
to sunset they would sip of the tea, drink of the beer, and eat of the
sugar, and be welcome all summer long. They look like things of mind
or fairies, and seem pleased or dull as the weather permits. In many
clean cottages and genteel houses, they are allowed every liberty to
creep, fly, or do as they like; and seldom or ever do wrong. In fact
they are the small or dwarfish portion of our own family, and so many
fairy familiars that we know and treat as one of ourselves.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Not The Girl, You Think I Am
why is everything you say,
turn out to be not true?
i'm not the girl who will turn her back,
i like to think of myself as the girl,
who fights back,
i'm sick of getting taken advantage of,
but in a way,
that was kind of my fault,
i allowed it to be okay,
just like i allowed myself to give up on life,
weak moment, it felt so right,
i wanted this to end,
but, than i wouldn't win,
the chance to be treated fair,
when i did everything you asked of me,
2 weeks later, there was more to do,
do you think i would give up?
thoughts come to mind,
but, i remember where it gotten me,
coming back at you stronger than ever,
because this is my life to control,
not yours to be prisoner,
i may cry when everything becomes too much,
but, it gives me the power,
to never give up my fight,
i'm going to take what i deserve,
because i've been through enough,
once we done, i want nothing to do with you,
you did me no good,
except see that all people can't be trusted,
along the way, i found who my true friends were,
that the best present i can ever ask for,
i guess things do happen for a reason,
and that god hate ugly people,
when your time comes,
he will have a payback for you,
but, for right now,
i just have to be patient.
Copyright © 2009
7-22-09
poem by Mona Martinez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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