Novacaine For The Soul
Life is hard
And so am I
You'd better give me something
So I don't die
Novocaine for the soul
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
Life is white
And I am black
Jesus and his lawyer
Are coming back
Oh my darling
Will you be here
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
Guess who's living here with the great undead
This paint by numbers life is f***ing with my head, once again
Life is good
And I feel great
Cuz mother says I was
A great mistake
Novocaine for the soul
You'd better give me something to fill the hole
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
Before I sputter out
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Bluster, sputter, question, cavil; but be sure your argument be intricate enough to confound the court.
quote by William Wycherley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trout
High mountains
cold and dark against night
Shuffling feet
along heavy planks of pier
Pulling ropes of bow and stern
Tiny boat undulating
to currents of moon-lit waters
Fishing tackle stowed
poles boxes bait
livelings wriggling in sawdust
cheese balls in oil
and dancing metal lures
to sparkle feint and run
Casting off by oar
Pulling at the tiny motor
Rope and crank rope and crank
Choke and rope
Chug sputter chug adjust
sputter whirr
Clanking of metal against metal
Cutting straight toward the deep
into the quiet
A muffled skimming
Waves slapping prow
Ball caps life preservers
coffee soft drinks sandwiches
They are off for the game
of fishing
before sun rising
to dropp enticers into deep
running spinners in shallows
They play the game
of reading trout
father and son
and being quite possibly
as close as they
can ever be
poem by Tom Courtney
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Spiteface
===============================
Smashing Pumpkins - Spiteface
===============================
Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck..You..Up..Muck
In a dream I wander on
To the bell tower.. writing songs
So I crumple this page, and rip it up
Never piece my broken heart to you
Muck..You..Up..Muck
Your words will one day spite your face
And another mouth will come and take its place
It'll speak and speak and speak and sputter me dry
I will never understand the motive drive
Muck
Your words, will spite your face
Your words, will spite your face
Spiteface
Spiteface
Spiteface
Spiteface
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sea Love
Tide be runnin' the great world over:
'Twas only last June month I mind that we
Was thinkin' the toss and the call in the breast of the lover
So everlastin' as the sea.
Heer's the same little fishes that sputter an swim,
Wi' the moon's old glim on the grey, wet sand;
An' him no more to me mor me to him
Than the wind goin' over my hand.
poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
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With Beckoning Fires!
why is it...
yesterday i walked on water,
today i tripped crossing the room!
you are only as distant
as the prayers of
semen stained thighs...
i am only as near
as the spider sleeping
in the hollow of your neck!
god yawns.... people get old,
sputter, and die...
but the voices remain,
with beckoning fires!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Time Leak
For centuries
we have lain like this,
our warmths intermingled,
our hearts beating
the same two-step,
& our breaths
& our limbs
intertwined.
Life after life,
I return to flesh
to join my flesh
to your flesh.
Sometimes I am the woman
& you the man;
sometimes,
the other way around.
It hardly matters.
Flesh after flesh,
our spirits return
to mingle.
Death is no barrier
& life's noisy matinee
where the suburban ladies
cough & sputter
& their programs crackle like kindling
merely goes on & on.
They sit on their deaths
as if they were sitting
on fur coats,
while we touch
for the first time
remembering
the next.
poem by Erica Jong
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Untitled: Back they Sputter
Back they sputter like the fires of love, the bees to their broken home
Which they're putting together again for dear life, knowing nothing
Of the heart beating under their floorboards, besieged here, seeking
A life of its own. All day their brisk shadows zigzag and flicker
Along a whitewashed gable, trafficking in and out of a hair-crack
Under wooden eaves, where they make a life for themselves that knows
No let-up through hours of exploration and return, their thighs golden
With pollen, their multitudinous eyes stapled to a single purpose:
To make winter safe for their likes, stack-packing the queen's chambers
With sweetness. Later, listen: one warm humming note, their night music.
poem by Eamon Grennan
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Once You Touch A Butterfly
Once you touch a butterfly
it often, flustered, fails to flutter,
and cannot soar into the sky
without a sputter and may splutter,
because for butterflies the touch
of humans, friend or enemy,
can be calamitous, the clutch
of humankind’s hegemony.
When touching those whom we befriend,
no less than those whom we betroth,
we must take care lest we offend,
for, whether butterfly or moth,
the ones for whom we care may find
it hard to soar if we should brush
the dust, though trying to be kind,
from wings that, having touched, we crush.
8/3/00
poem by Gershon Hepner
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I Will Be Free
I don’t belong here
It just doesn’t feel right
Seems like I’m out of place
Lost wanderer, alone in the night
Most people have a place.
I’ve never felt that way.
Seems like I just can’t face
Hopelessness, depression, dismay.
Loneliness. No one. Life gone terribly wrong
No brightness, constant darkness reigns.
Weakness, bleakness, days and nights too long.
A need to shed this existence’s chains
This light of mine feels need to extinguish.
Having never shone all that brightly.
Better snuffed out than allowed to languish
To sputter and glow so slightly
To go, my fate, is destinies test
Which I see as one of a possible three
One is the worst, and one is the best
And third is nothingness…setting me free
poem by David Whalen
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As If Never!
your mouth tembles,
cannot form the word love;
your body storms,
breaking windows and doors.
your hands sweat,
your eyes close, and open.
the embers deep,
sputter, and flame...
beyond your control,
your winds laps it's tongue,
just for a taste,
for one stolen moment.
the earth stops turning,
poles begin to shift...
and mountains, cities, and
rivers swallowed in an instant...
as if never!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sonnet: Life’s Candle Flame
Our life is like a candle-wick aflame,
Whose glowing brightness drives darkness away,
And keeps on burning though a fierce Wind came,
To sputter, spew forth smoke, all night ‘til day.
A blowing Gale can make us burn too fast;
The wind can put the flame off premature;
Both wick and wax must synchronously last;
Our teacher best is dear Mother Nature.
How long each candle lasts? No one can tell;
How bright the flame can be? Depends on us;
Yet, some waste wick and wax to burn like hell!
God expects us to burn steady sans fuss.
A candle ought to light the world that’s dark;
Yet, burn with steadiness without a spark!
5-18-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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Why Have We Forgotten?
crows bark,
clouds hiss and sputter,
grass moans,
mountains whimper like children.
trees groan and turn,
rivers dance in silence.
owls speak Greek and Hebrew,
and cattle speak in tongues.
snakes plant corn by moonlight,
and snails dance in the dark.
turtles carry messages from god,
and hawks search the skies for truth.
buddhas laugh...
and small children know.
why have we forgotten?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Always Within Me...
What shall happen next...up to you entirely!
What shall be our first step...up to you...in dire need!
Whatsoever it shall be or whatsoever you may choose,
Remember what we meant at one time...do not lose!
Think of you always...ne'er a moment passes without;
My family on my heart, 'always', I shout!
Flutter and sputter does my meager heart;
Has it done such, since our latest journey did start! ?
Travel and leisure, all we do, all our travails too,
Nothing much matters though, sans all of you!
Truth will redeem me, set me free it shall!
Loving you more with each passing of days, my vow!
Always within me, always within you;
Nearer still to redemption, nearer still, truth!
Maurice Harris,9 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
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Peace And Love For Me Are Forbidden
Peace and love for me
Are forbidden,
I have been entrusted
The national responsibility,
To show my hatred
To the environment,
Which I am rendering
With utmost sincerity and patriotism.
There dwells fear in my eyes
And my feet are prison bound,
I am being kept away
from light and fresh air.
I am an inhabitant of such a city,
As is destined to be ruined.
In my infertile soil
The plant of freedom
Does not deepen its roots.
I am in a condition like at war,
I was born on the saddle of a steed
And I was first fed
With an edge of a sword,
That made my tongue acidic,
I want to sputter it out.
(Written by Jawaaz Jafri Translated by Muhammad Shanazar)
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Life Waters
What is this meaning that i have been hearing
The meaning of life in its wonders
The sea bubbles over
There seems to be no end
But the hopes of the many will always rise up forever
What is one man
When all of the world
great in its diversity and mass is but a small portion
of a greater plan
I've viewed nature in all of its beauty
None greater than the hibiscus
It does not waver like the great palm
But in one tree, can have a million different shades
Like a young child who's innocence is taken, many different lie within
It seems to me
The bigger the dream
The faster its sold
Visions of gold
cast aside by tears
Years of dreaming turn bitter cold
and quench the fires of my soul
The glowing coals within my heart
crumble and sputter beneath the flow
The springs of waters spew out hope
and I surrender to its flood
Water seems to be tumblind down, through the walls of my hurting face
but Thank the Gods
One can never quench the source
Of happiness and true good grace
For out of evil comes no good
and men will fall into their traps
and soon their plans will collapse
He who blames is often to blame
I've learnt this big disgrace
How can you not tell you're hurting me?
I'm entering grief and tied to a rock
Plummeting into a black sea of dispair
The waves came over me ever so swiftly
And I'm still in shock.
I must kindle my fire before times run out
I must defy the laws of physics and chemistry
To complete my life's tapestry
Breaking rules and abiding some
Is part of every fun game
But i haven't played this game of Life before
And without a helping hand or boat
I'll end up swept away and dead
Floating off course, away offshore.
poem by Nicholas Rahming
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Fracture
This constant ache
is my leg's message to me.
'Hello. Hello. Hello.
You're getting there,' it says,
'step by step.'
Legs aren't stars
which sputter out
& go on gleaming anyway.
I've lived, of course,
with phantom limbs
but this fracture
doesn't point to
amputation. No.
It hisses at something
much more final.
Skin lantern,
necklace of teeth,
the bones & sinews
are in revolt against us.
We keep them down
with little bribes:
vitamins, penicillin,
& now these pounds of plaster,
but they will bury us,
good Bolsheviks,
& know it.
So they've got time to bide.
Meanwhile: spread-eagle
on these crutches, a cripple
sucking the ground with rubber
nipples, or else a knight,
up to my ass in armor,
I limp & swing my way
across the street
& up the steps,
moving, here & now,
step by step,
towards the future,
that incurable
fracture.
poem by Erica Jong
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It Just Gets Better
It just gets better.
If the worst of it,
Is not rehearsed.
If the truth is faced...
And not replaced by grief.
The kind that can weaken,
When it arrives and does not leave.
It just gets better.
If the honesty of feelings felt,
Aren't denied or excused to fake.
It has to and will get better...
When one faces reality.
To confront.
Although it comes with agony.
And perhaps joined at the hip...
With some heartache.
Confront it...
And make a clean break.
To become relieved,
It has been shakened.
It just gets better...
With each painful step ahead one takes.
Then one day the Sun removes away the clouds.
And a smile is welcomed to replace,
Those frowns well known.
But no longer condoned,
With a pouting shown and allowed.
It just gets better.
To heal one again who can now walk proud.
If the worst of it is not rehearsed.
To become identified,
And shared with others...
To sputter and suffer,
In cuss filled muttering crowds.
It just gets better,
When one's life is not lived...
To spit bitterness and spite!
And giving up that inner fight,
To forgive and let live...
For that kind of life one deserves and likes.
Set free...
And detached,
From remorse and burdens.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Bottle
I am a bottle, so shake
me up. Or don't shake
me up. Do whatever
you want; either way,
I'll like it. If you shou
ld shake me up, the
bubbles will start for
ming, slowly at first,
then coming up to po
p the place above my n
eck and I could burst. I co
uld blow up, explode, spill ever
ything inside, sputter out all the i
nward items I hide. Things safe w
ithin me. They could flow, flood
out till I'm empty then you can de
cide if you want to recycle me. Pr
obably not. Maybe. Oh, I hope so.
Think green. Think of a better wor
ld. A better one. For you. For me.
For all the children that we could h
ave in the future. However, if you d
on't shake me up, I sit here on the
shelf, waiting for the time come a
nd I like that too. The building anti
cipation that builds excitement for t
he bubbles that could build inside
me. There's something safe, som
ething more comfortable in fanta
sy, keeping things hidden for
no one else to see. Pick me
up, put me down, dropp me
falling to the ground, place me in your hands and shake me up in my imagination. There's a soft, stirring feeling in thinking of that.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Eight minutes
High above the Canyon’s edge,
Far above the ancient clay,
The helicopter hovers there
Like a dragonfly at play.
With my jet pack on my back
I coolly, calmly step away.
Gain separation from the blades,
Freefall starts my epic day.
On stubby wings the jet packs fire
I’m Daedalus in the morning light.
I soar across the canyon’s rim.
Laughing like some hell born sprite
One hundred eighty miles an hour,
The wind whips cold despite the sun
I glide toward my landing zone
The jet packs sputter and are done.
My parachute has been deployed
My guide ropes turn me for my drop.
My wings are just a dead weight now
I touch down one the Mesa top.
At Kitty Hawk that fateful day.
This must be what the brothers felt
Kindred souls who sought to fly
By using wings that wouldn’t melt..
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Self Sufficient
This is going to be rough.
Think you have it tough?
You are not even close enough to feel the fire.
Down to the wire.
Attempting to reclaim my spire.
Twist and turn all the way up the latter.
Please don't spit and sputter.
Out of breath and just so far to go.
I just don't know if I'll make it to the other side.
But I still have to try.
It's not as if I'm afraid die.
It's not as if I need to know.
A failure to succeed is a common breed.
Biologically screwed.
A government who needs to be sued.
A society who needs to get a clue.
What the hell is wrong with all of you.
Crying over luxury's you once had.
Your still alive be happy.
Or get angry.
Start a riot.
Burning an entire city down.
It still will not provide with antidote to the problem we all have.
Self sufficient what is that?
We depend on too many people for what we need.
And they sit back and enjoy the greed.
They see you coming.
They see you running.
Just show me the money.
Dollar signs in the eyes of fear mongers with their proclamation.
They're saying your doomed.
And you just might be.
Without a little god damn change.
Victims of the insane,
I just want to take off in a air plane.
Take off to a far away place.
Where living life isn't such a disgrace.
Where watching the children grow up doesn't leave such a bitter taste.
Turn about face.
Close my eyes and all that I once saw has been erased.
A closure to a sequence in which I just keep watching the people falling.
I've always been down here.
How long to do you plan on staying?
This is the poverty that is not seen by the elitist eyes.
Always new people we must teach.
Just how do we survive such dark times?
Let the hope spread through the hearts and minds of all with my simple rhymes.
I'm telling you everything will be fine.
Even as the tears fall from my eyes down my cheek and drip right down to the floor.
I still haven't abandoned this world.
Neither should you.
If love conquers all then I shall just never give up.
No matter how f'd up it seems.
My soul is mine to redeem.
Follow suit.
And let those who think they have it all see my dark abyss.
The serpent will spread its kiss.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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