Perverts In The Sun
(feat. The Trolls)
The USA is movin' south
Our power is mostly mouth
Miami beach to Malibu
Hot weather makes'em wanna screw
Shemales, jumps bails
Weird tales on the scales
If it fails chip'n dale
Hit the gym in animal skin
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Fruit punch
Go to crunch
Take a pill
Lose your will
Get a job, in street promotion
Pushing handbills on the ocean
Gang fights all night
Garbages can's got a tan
Rich men and hungry chicks
Stick'em in the blender - hey big spender !
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
O.J, O.J, Jose Sammy too, got nothin' to do
The realtor hit the floor
He's disgusted
Wants to get'em all busted
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
You guys are perverts
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
Perverts in the sun
Perving everyone
song performed by by Iggy Pop

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Violence and perversion
All heroic deeds
Are enacted by cowards
And seen by cowards.
All romantic scenes
Are enacted by perverts
And seen by perverts.
Thus violence and
Libido find their exit,
Sparing the mrality.
20.06.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
There is nothing evil save that which perverts the mind and shackles the conscience.
quote by Saint Ambrose

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
He too is a pervert.
Rapists are perverts; molesters are too.
So are woman teasers and spy on woman.
The one who advocates moral policing
For woman is equally a pervert.
15.02.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Raids In Brothels
To have a raid in a brothel
Is to have a raid in an inn.
Hunger for sex and food is met.
Such raids amount to barbarism.
Sexual gratifications are
Denied by perverts, and the pair
Is prosecuted by the jealous
And punished by the sadists.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ebenezer
Of the five rulers of Philistines!
One for Ashod,
One for Gaza,
One for Ashkelon,
One for Gath,
And one for Ekron;
But your love is in the field of Yahshua of Beth Shemesh.
Ebenezer, bribe perverts justice!
And the truth will always crash you;
Like a rainfall from Bahrain.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lock Up the Weirdos! ! (overheard in a pub)
'Just look at me! I earn my bread
And pay my taxes, watch TV,
Mind my own business,
I'm a normal bloke,
I'll have a pint and share a joke;
Lock up the weirdos, that's what I say,
If they can't conform then make them pay!
Those guys are lazy, they're not sick,
It's time they were given a bit of stick!
They're scrounging off the Welfare State,
It's all handed to them on a plate,
And while we're on the subject
Why do we call the perverts 'gay'?
They're just a bunch of effing queers,
Shoot them all and I'll shed no tears! !
Don't give me all that psychology sh*t,
I don't believe a word of it! '
poem by John Thorkild Ellison

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The last act of the Play
The wanderer's wanderlust stopped at once
as he got a stroke.
He strolls with his walking stick only a short distance.
It's not like his early days.
When he was a stripling looks like a horseman.
He is speechless because of the shock
and gradually he became bedridden.
This handsome man never used a bedpan
but now his wife brings him all the time.
Life perverts him very unkindly
anyway the beloved with him as a shadow.
Flies and Maggots in friendly terms
because of the bedsores.
The innocent soul drowns in the shallow waters
and he fades away in the wakefulness.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

It Might Have Been
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
'It might have been, had not this, or that, or this.'
No fate can keep us from the chosen way;
He only might who is.
We will do what we could do. Do not dream
Chance leaves a hero, all uncrowned to grieve.
I hold, all men are greatly what they seem;
He does, who could achieve.
We will climb where we could climb. Tell me not
Of adverse storms that kept thee from the height.
What eagle ever missed the peak he sought?
He always climbs who might.
I do not like the phrase 'It might have been!'
It lacks force, and life's best truths perverts:
For I believe we have, and reach, and win,
Whatever our deserts.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jealousy
Never at heart's ease
Should one be greater
Than her
This green eyed other self-
Twin sister of love.
Born from lack of self confidence
Grows into the proud child
Of envy that perverts the mind
feels pleasure in the reverse,
Cruel as the grave,
Can endure its own despair
But not neighbour's hope.
To ignore the force of jealousy
Is to deny the gravity
Of this strange passion.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Last Suicidal Prayer
Here I am now
with the reflection of a child,
crying
Wanting out of this prison
Caged in steel bars of judgement
and criticism
The pounding noise of a gavel
Manipulating my gullible ear drums
with degradation
A social rape victim
Lured by perverts with the false hope:
ACCEPTANCE
One last suicidal prayer
for the blessing of the deities of attention
Unanswered
Unanswered...
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Where Women Are
How could a country flourished,
where land is ignored?
How could a nation go ahead,
where women are insulted?
In our ancient land,
here every minute a woman
is being humiliated,
by perverts, motherhood
is stampede and embryo
if detected as being
girls soon is uprooted,
to make the world of men!
Alas! you, block-heads,
don't you know, who will
take the charge of earth,
if women turn extinct species?
Respect is the first word
for us which we claim
from you all, hey
you our world's
only earthly companion!
poem by Nilakshi Das

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hymn 119
The different success of the gospel.
1 Cor. 1:23,24; 3:6,7; 2 Cor. 2:16.
Christ and his cross is all our theme;
The myst'ries that we speak
Are scandal in the Jew's esteem,
And folly to the Greek.
But souls enlightened from above
With joy receive the word;
They see what wisdom, power, and love
Shine in their dying Lord.
The vital savor of his name
Restores their fainting breath;
But unbelief perverts the same
To guilt, despair, and death.
Till God diffuse his graces down,
Like showers of heav'nly rain,
In vain Apollos sows the ground,
And Paul may plant in vain.
poem by Isaac Watts

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lies are held as truths
History is full of lies,
written by winners.
Scriptures are full of lies,
written by hypocrites.
Epics are full of lies,
written by oppressors
Romances are full of lies,
written by perverts..
These are full of truths,
we are led to believe.
09.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The maker is not to blame.
Men had been rational
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have made them mere sheep.
Men had been awaken
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have made them quite drowsy.
Men had been brotherly
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when the religions
Have bred the rivalries.
Men had been good in mind
Till they’ve made religions,
Since when with all the walls,
They have become perverts.
If what was intended
From what was made
Has not been the outcome,
The maker is not to blame.
17.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Knucklehead
Fancy apple lap top cost 5 grand
Fresh girl in a t-shirt silll looks best
Travel to a sunny quiet land
Layin on the beach I miss my pests
Lifes turning up the pressure
Its makin me aggressive
The music sounds like dead ham
The dj is a con man
Hes sayin...
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
Knucklehead what can you do
What can you do?
One day I went out to buy a truck
I found one that looked so huge and big
Once I got that sucker on the road
I was looking down at everything
And I really liked that
Everyone obeyed me
I thought this is power
Like that religious hour
When the preacher says...
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
Knucklehead what can you do?
Something from you something from you
Something from you something from you
Once the telephone starts ringing I stop thinking
Sittin at the tv Im just blinking
Go to the compuler and Im punching
Whats this information that Im munching
The leader and the followers
The rock star and the model
The general and the perverts
Theyre poking me where it hurts (ouch!)
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
I I i want something from you
Knucklehead what can you do?
song performed by by Iggy Pop

Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Retreat
The heritage. Storm of violence
in our chromosomes: perverts the senses.
Spooky fear of burnt houses, broken limbs,
utterly committing as witness of silent
unbuilding, as the future defies the
stunt of withdrawl.
Not for tomorrow, the mother weeps
for the exiled trespassers on dead sea.
Drowned corridor of sinking ship. The explosions,
feathers destroying the direction of winds.
Life picks up the rags of pride, of ‘me’.
Terror waits on the lips of sorrow
like an obsessive maniac, ready to jump.
Some candle, bring me some light.
poem by Satish Verma

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra
NOT 'mid the world's vain objects that enslave
The free-born Soul--that World whose vaunted skill
In selfish interest perverts the will,
Whose factions lead astray the wise and brave--
Not there; but in dark wood and rocky cave,
And hollow vale which foaming torrents fill
With omnipresent murmur as they rave
Down their steep beds, that never shall be still:
Here, mighty Nature! in this school sublime
I weigh the hopes and fears of suffering Spain;
For her consult the auguries of time,
And through the human heart explore my way;
And look and listen--gathering, whence I may,
Triumph, and thoughts no bondage can restrain.
poem by William Wordsworth

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Marriage takes a toll.
Marriage is found to take a toll
On one’s sexual life, it is true.
However supportive and kind
He is to her and she is to him,
They go to bed with out the thrill
That they got when they got married.
Familiarity is the culprit;
Curiosity is the victim.
Frequency in sex fizzles out
And stops well before menopause
With sexual thirst ever growing..
The pair set their eyes to wander
And either commit blunder
Or end up as sexual perverts.
A man of sixty will thunder
In passion, given a new partner.
A woman of sixty will writhe
In passion if explored by a new one.
Marriage is found to take a toll
On husband and wife’s sexual life.
01.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Masochism
‘Sadism and masochism'
Is a renewed sexual game,
Found an outlet to release
The stress built up during the day.
To be tied to be set free;
To get smacked and get spanked,
To be freed and relaxed;
A volunteer infliction;
Hedonists go for it.
Conservatives scoff off.
Beating and whipping are held
As pain coated pleasure pills.
Shamelessness is a freedom.
Slavery is a pleasure
With mind duly conditioned.
Inhibition of day is shed.
Be she a dominatrix
Or a boot licking nature,
Once tasted she will go for
‘Sadism and masochism.'
They are no longer branded
As kinky or sexual perverts.
They want most of their lives
No virtue can frustrate them.
05.08.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Child Of The Streets
A child wanders in a metropolis jungle
of fifteen million people or more.
Too frightened to ask for any help
hungry, thirsty, tired, sore.
Reddened eyes that once wept
for hours, days and weeks.
Unwashed clothes and body,
but who cares if one reeks.
Parent’s advice about strangers
remains ingrained in the mind,
ready to run if sweets are offered
hard to tell if they were just being kind.
No more thought given to loneliness,
survival’s hard when you’re young and alone.
In a dark alley at the rear of a restaurant
is a bed of cardboard and a garbage bin scone.
A day spent looking for food, clothing and money,
running from pimps, perverts and police.
Cornered whilst eating a stolen apple by the river,
police and social workers have a child of the streets.
poem by Orlando Belo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!