En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Gigolo Aunt

Grooving around in a trench coat
With the satin on trail
Seems to be all around in tin and lead pail, we pale
Jiving on down to the beach
To see the blue and the gray
Seems to be all and its rosy-its a beautiful day!
Will you please keep on the track
cause I almost want you back
cause I know what you are
You are a gigolo aunt, youre a gigolo aunt!
Yes I know what you are
You are a gigolo aunt, youre a gigolo aunt!
Heading down with the light, the dust in your way
She was angrier than, than her watershell male
Life to this love to me - heading me down to me
Thunderbird shale
Seems to be all and its rosy - its a beautiful day!
Will you please keep on the track
cause I almost want you back
cause I know what you are
You are a gigolo aunt
Grooving on down in a knapsack superlative day
Some wish she move and just as she can move jiving away
She made the scene should have been-superlative day
Everythings all and its rosy, its a beautiful day
Will you please keep on the track
cause I almost want you back
cause I know what you are
You are a gigolo aunt...

song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Gigolo

I 'm just a gigolo, and everywhere I go,
People know the part I'm playin'.
Pay for every dance, sellin' each romance,
Ooohh what they're sayin'.
There will come a day, when youth will pass away,
What will they say about me?
When the end comes I know, there was just a gigolo
Life goes on without me.
Chorus:
I ain't got nobody, nobody, cares for me,
Nobody, nobody, cares for me.
I'm so sad and lonely, sad and lonely, sad and lonely
Won't some sweet mama come and take a chance with me?
Cause I ain't so bad.
I'm just a gigolo, and everywhere I go,
People know the part Im playin'.
Pay for every dance, sellin' each romance (each romance),
Ooohh what they're sayin'.
There will come a day
(There will come a day),
when youth will pass away,
What will they say about me?
When the end comes I know, there was just a gigolo (just a gigolo),
Life goes on without me
(what you say'in)).
CHORUS
There will come a day, when youth will pass away,
What will they say about me?
When the end comes I know, there was just a gigolo,
Life goes on without me.(what?)
(Life goes on without me)
CHORUS

song performed by by Lou Bega
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aunt Tabitha

THE YOUNG GIRL'S POEM

WHATEVER I do, and whatever I say,
Aunt Tabitha tells me that is n't the way;
When she was a girl (forty summers ago)
Aunt Tabitha tells me they never did so.

Dear aunt! If I only would take her advice!
But I like my own way, and I find it so nice
And besides, I forget half the things I am told;
But they all will come back to me--when I am old.

If a youth passes by, it may happen, no doubt,
He may chance to look in as I chance to look out;
She would never endure an impertinent stare,--
It is horrid, she says, and I must n't sit there.

A walk in the moonlight has pleasures, I own,
But it is n't quite safe to be walking alone;
So I take a lad's arm,--just for safety, you know,--
But Aunt Tabitha tells me they did n't do so.

How wicked we are, and how good they were then!
They kept at arm's length those detestable men;
What an era of virtue she lived in!--But stay--
Were the men all such rogues in Aunt Tabitha's day?

If the men were so wicked, I 'll ask my papa
How he dared to propose to my darling mamma;
Was he like the rest of them? Goodness! Who knows?
And what shall I say, if a wretch should propose?

I am thinking if Aunt knew so little of sin,
What a wonder Aunt Tabitha's aunt must have been!
And her grand-aunt--it scares me--how shockingly sad
That we girls of to-day are so frightfully bad!

A martyr will save us, and nothing else can;
Let me perish--to rescue some wretched young man!
Though when to the altar a victim I go,
Aunt Tabitha 'll tell me she never did so.

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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At My Aunt's Unveiling

AT MY AUNT’S UNVEILING

At my aunt’s unveiling
There were five of us
Only five
One was a woman
A friend of hers
Not the closest one
But someone who knew her
And wanted to be a friend.

Thousands of people had known my aunt
Hundreds had worked with or for her
She was born into a large family
But all of them were gone
Or out of it.

My sister and I were the relatives
My aunt had been very generous to us
And difficult for my sister
Who cared for her.

I had only been a taker all the years.

My aunt worked so hard for so many years
And she was ‘somebody’ in her world

There were five of us there
And the ceremony short
No minyan.

There was no sign of my aunt’s smile
Or her nervous energy or her superabundant love
‘Moll ‘as my mother called her
was not there.

I see her so clearly in my mind now
‘What does it all mean? ’ my father would ask my mother
after reading of the death of another person they knew

‘What does it all mean’

When my sister and I go
The memory of my aunt
Will be gone forever.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Drop Your Buns Aunt Betty

Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.

Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.
You owe us that!

Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back.
We ate your baked cookies,
And they went rather fast.

Drop your buns Aunt Betty.
Would you like a bowl of soup,
To boot that mood that has you pooped.
From all that mixing in the kitchen fixing food that you do.
There's some noodles with onions and peppers in it too!

Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And that package on your back...
And relax.

Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
We know they are delicious
Since they're made with cinnamon.
We're not a bit suspicious
Of the love that's in them.
Drop your buns Aunt Betty,
And grab a little snack and relax.

You owe us that!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Old Aunt Mary's

Wasn't it pleasant, O brother mine,
In those old days of the lost sunshine
Of youth-- when the Saturday's chores were through,
And the 'Sunday's wood' in the kitchen too,
And we went visiting, 'me and you,'
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

It all comes back so clear to-day!
Though I am as bald as you are gray--
Out by the barn-lot, and down the lane,
We patter along in the dust again,
As light as the tips of the drops of the rain,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's!

We cross the pasture, and through the wood
Where the old gray snag of the poplar stood,
Where the hammering 'red-heads' hopped awry,
And the buzzard 'raised' in the 'clearing' sky
And lolled and circled, as we went by
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

And then in the dust of the road again;
And the teams we met, and the countrymen;
And the long highway, with sunshine spread
As thick as butter on country bread,
Our cares behind, and our hearts ahead
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

Why, I see her now in the open door,
Where the little gourds grew up the sides and o'er
The clapboard roof--! And her face-- ah, me!
Wasn't it good for a boy to see--
And wasn't it good for a boy to be
Out to Old Aunt Mary's?

The jelly-- the Jam and the marmalade,
And the cherry and quince 'preserves'' she made!
And the sweet-sour pickles of peach and pear,
With cinnamon in 'em, and all things rare--!
And the more we ate was the more to spare,
Out to Old Aunt Mary's!

And the old spring-house in the cool green gloom
Of the willow-trees--, and the cooler room
Where the swinging-shelves and the crocks were kept--
Where the cream in a golden languor slept
While the waters gurgled and laughed and wept--
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

And O my brother, so far away,
This is to tell you she waits to-day
To welcome us--: Aunt Mary fell
Asleep this morning, whispering-- 'Tell
The boys to come!' And all is well
Out to Old Aunt Mary's.

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

(harry warren, al dubin)
I walk along the street of sorrow,
The boulevard of broken dreams.
Where gigolo and gigolette
Can take a kiss without regret
So they forget their broken dreams.
You laugh tonight and cry tomorrow,
When you behold your shattered dreams.
And gigolo and gigolette
Awake to find their eyes are wet
With tears that tell of broken dreams.
Here is where youll always find me,
Always walking up and down.
But I left my soul behind me
In an old cathedral town.
The joy you find here, you borrow,
You cannot keep it long, it seems.
But gigolo and gigolette
Still sing a song and dance along
The boulevard of broken dreams.
~interlude~
Here is where youll always find me,
Always walking up and down.
But I left my soul behind me
In an old cathedral town.
The joy you find here, you borrow,
You cannot keep it long, it seems.
But gigolo and gigolette
Still sing a song and dance along
The boulevard of broken dreams.

song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Aunt

My aunt! my dear unmarried aunt!
Long years have o’er her flown;
Yet still she strains the aching clasp
That binds her virgin zone;
I know it hurts her,—­though she looks
As cheerful as she can;
Her waist is ampler than her life,
For life is but a span.

My aunt! my poor deluded aunt!
Her hair is almost gray;
Why will she train that winter curl
In such a spring-like way?
How can she lay her glasses down,
And say she reads as well,
When through a double convex lens
She just makes out to spell?

Her father—­grandpapa I forgive
This erring lip its smiles—­
Vowed she should make the finest girl
Within a hundred miles;
He sent her to a stylish school;
’T was in her thirteenth June;
And with her, as the rules required,
“Two towels and a spoon.”

They braced my aunt against a board,
To make her straight and tall;
They laced her up, they starved her down,
To make her light and small;
They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,
They screwed it up with pins;—­
Oh never mortal suffered more
In penance for her sins.

So, when my precious aunt was done,
My grandsire brought her back;
(By daylight, lest some rabid youth
Might follow on the track
“Ah!” said my grandsire, as he shook
Some powder in his pan,
“What could this lovely creature do
Against a desperate man!”

Alas! nor chariot, nor barouche,
Nor bandit cavalcade,
Tore from the trembling father’s arms
His all-accomplished maid.
For her how happy had it been
And Heaven had spared to me
To see one sad, ungathered rose
On my ancestral tree.

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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If Heaven has a Number

I pick up the phone, dial 0 for the operator
And ask if heaven has a number

Does heaven have a number because I need to speak to God to ask For his forgiveness?

Does heaven have a number, because I need to speak with my aunt To ask her does she feel better?

Does heaven have a number, because I need to speak with my aunt
To tell her I love her?

Does heaven have a number, because I need to speak with my aunt
To know if I will be accepted
As one of God's children?

Does heaven have a number, this at last I need to know because, I Need someone in my life who cares, who loves me for me, like my aunt
Did, because I am all alone on this big Earth
So...........
Does heaven have a number?

poem by Katrina Thompson
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Aunt Evangeline Approves

My Aunt Evangeline has come
To visit Melbourne town,
Garbed for its Glad Centenary
In frill and festal gown.
And Aunties says in mincing tones
As she surveys the scene,
Quaite pretty work. But just one touch
Of Ort, Ai think would help so much.'
Says Aunt Evangeline.

'Now, take those sweet Venetian masts,
Which clowns call 'lolly sticks,'
Some naice ort-muslin maight be used
In colahs that will mix.
Then what they need is pampas grass
Dyed pink and puce and green
To stick in those - ah - funnel things
Such deah, sweet memories it brings,'
Says Aunt Evangeline.

'Crepe papah, swung from pole to pole
Festooned with Christmas
Maight add a touch of tasteful
Mai deah, it's taste that
So on these fraightful buildings,
Paint a pretty watah scene,
With storks and - ah - conv
To please ortistic folk laike us.
Says Aunt Evangeline.

My Aunt Evangeline says, 'H'm!
Theah's something lacking yet
Something appropriate . . . Of course!
Whai how could Ai forget?
Ten thousand aspidistra plants
So graceful when they're green
Along those guttahs in the street
And on those pylons. They'd look sweet!'
Says Aunt Evangeline.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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I am your maternal Aunt from Ohio!

A letter came without the sender's address.
She's written 'I am your Aunt but I cannot prove it.
Do not think that I am senile,
Still I can trace Judas who made the crown of thorns
For our Good Shepherd!
Do not think that I am mean
The Plumbago mine to whom I give
Before I take oaths in the Heaven.
Purposely I omitted my address on the envelope
Because I know you rascal never step into this lonely Aunt's habitation!
And you scribble the whole life until you go to the Hell!
I am your Aunt Hellen!

For the young couple in the Wedlock Mike & Sue!

*Is this the Canadian Aunt once poor deceased Mom mentioned in my faded dream?
But she must have gone to the heaven already.I have doubts whether she writes her last will the Plumbago mine for me? Now I remember once a palmist in my country predicted, one day I own a sudden wealth in a strange soil.O I can make pencils for poor children free!

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Weies Fleisch

Du auf dem Schulhof
ich zum Tten bereit
und keiner hier wei
von meiner Einsamkeit
Rote Striemen auf weier Haut
ich tu dir weh
und du jammerst laut
Jetzt hast du Angst und ich bin soweit
mein schwarzes Blut versaut dir das Kleid
Dein weies Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
dein weies Fleisch erleuchtet mich
Mein schwarzes Blut und dein weies Fleisch
ich werd immer geiler von deinem Gekreisch
der Angstschwei da auf deiner weien Stirn
hagelt in mein krankes Gehirn
Dein weies Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
mein Vater war genau wie ich
dein weies Fleisch erleuchtet mich
Jetzt hast du Angst und ich bin soweit
mein krankes Dasein nach Erlsung schreit
dein weies Fleisch wird mein Schafott
in meinem Himmel gibt es keinen Gott
Dein weies Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
dein weies Fleisch erleuchtet mich
mein Vater war genau wie ich
dein weies Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin ein trauriger Gigolo
dein weies Fleisch erleuchtet mich

song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Du auf dem Schulhof
ich zum T├╢ten bereit
und keiner hier weiss
von meiner Einsamkeit

Rote Striemen auf weisser Haut
ich tu dir weh
und du jammerst laut

Jetzt hast du Angst und ich bin soweit
mein schwarzes Blut versaut dir das Kleid

Dein weisses Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
dein weisses Fleisch erleuchtet mich

Mein schwarzes Blut und dein weisses Fleisch
ich werd immer geiler von deinem Gekreisch
der Angstschweiss da auf deiner weissen Stirn
hagelt in mein krankes Gehirn

Dein weisses Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
mein Vater war genau wie ich
dein weisses Fleisch erleuchtet mich

Jetzt hast du Angst und ich bin soweit
mein krankes Dasein nach Erl├╢sung schreit
dein weisses Fleisch wird mein Schafott
in meinem Himmel gibt es keinen Gott

Dein weisses Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin doch nur ein Gigolo
dein weisses Fleisch erleuchtet mich
mein Vater war genau wie ich
dein weisses Fleisch erregt mich so
ich bin ein trauriger Gigolo
dein weisses Fleisch erleuchtet mich

song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saints

In our family, there were two saints,
my aunt and my grandmother.
But their lives were different.

My grandmother's was tranquil, even at the end.
She was like a person walking in calm water;
for some reason
the sea couldn't bring itself to hurt her.
When my aunt took the same path,
the waves broke over her, they attacked her,
which is how the Fates respond
to a true spiritual nature.

My grandmother was cautious, conservative:
that's why she escaped suffering.
My aunt's escaped nothing;
each time the sea retreats, someone she loves is taken away.

Still she won't experience
the sea as evil. To her, it is what it is:
where it touches land, it must turn to violence.

poem by Louise Gluck
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Weisses Fleisch

Du auf dem schulhof
Ich zum tten bereit
Und keiner hier weiss von meiner einsamkeit
Rote striemen auf weisser haut
Ich t dir weh
Und du jammerst laut
Jetzt hast du angst
Und ich bin soweit
Mein schwarzes blut
Versaut dir das kleid
Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so
Ich bin doch nur ein gigolo
Dein weisses fleisch erleuchtet mich
Mein schwarzes blut und dein weisses fleisch
Ich werd immer geiler von deinem gekreisch
Der angstschweiss da auf deiner weissen stirn
Hagelt in mein krankes gehirn
Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so
Ich bin doch nur ein gigolo
Mein vater war genau wie ich
Dein weisses fleisch erleuchtet mich
Jetzt hast du angst und ich bin soweit
Mein krankes dasein nach erlsung schreit
Dein weisses fleisch wird mein schafott
In meinem himmel gibt es keinen gott
Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so
Ich bin doch nur ein gigolo
Dein weisses fleisch erleuchtet mich
Mein vater war genau wie ich
Dein weisses fleisch erregt mich so
Ich bin ein trauriger gigolo
Dein weisses fleisch erleuchtet - mich
(translation:
White flesh
-----------
You in the school yard
Im ready to kill and nobody here knows of my loneliness
Red welts on the white skin
Im hurting you and you are loudly whimpering
Now you are scared
And I am ready
My black blood soils your dress
Your white flesh excites me so
I am just a gigolo
Your white flesh enlightens me
My black blood, your white flesh
Im getting more and more excited by your screams
The sweat of fear on your white forehead
It is hailing into my sick brain
Now you are scared and I am ready
My sick existence screams for redemption
Your white flesh becomes my scaffold
There is no God in my heaven
My father was just like me
Your white flesh excites me so
I am just a gigolo
Your white flesh enlightens me )

song performed by by Rammstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wish I Were Born in Beverly Hills

She looked so sleek and sassy
Rolling down Rodeo Drive
She got her daddy's black Corniche
And her tennis pro by her side
And she wants her mother's lover
To exercise her skill
And if she don't score him fast
She knows that her brother will
Oh I wish I were born in Beverly Hills
I swear I couldn't drink half as much as she spills
I want to live it up get my kicks and thrills
Be a gigolo lover and send her the bills
She says that she's an actress
Just never got a part
Now she's a teenage mess
With a burned out Gucci heart
She cracked one day at Cartier
When things came to a head
They put her trinkets away
And wrapped her up instead
Oh I wish I were born in Beverly Hills
I swear I couldn't drink half as much as she spills
I want to live it up get my kicks and thrills
Be a gigolo lover and send her the bills
She bit like a dog and she screamed like hell
"You ain't taking me to no padded cell
You better take all your hands off my high priced tail"
Oh I wish I were born in Beverly Hills
I swear I couldn't drink half as much as she spills
I want to live it up get my kicks and thrills
Be a gigolo lover and send her the bills

song performed by by Alice Cooper, music by Alice Cooper, Bernie Taupin, Dick Wagner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Aunt Minnie would always be punctual and never hold up production, but who would pay to see my Aunt Minnie?

quote by Billy Wilder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Norm And Aunt Audrey

As a child I remember those days
when Aunt Audrey would come from faraway.
Aunt Audrey was tall and wore jewelry like rings
she brought gifts and interesting things.
Aunt Audrey lived in Japan, the far east
she had an interesting life to say the least.
Her daughters Marlena and Renee
had played with us for a couple of days.
Then they would leave on a plane
I would see them again at an older age.
Uncle Norm I also saw when I was young
we traveled to Rhode Island when I was age 1.
Then I would see Aunt Audrey & Norm
in the Sunshine State—
they lived in a development with wooden gates.
I celebrate Christmas and the holidays
with them, Marlena and Renee.
Celebrate with them on Christmas day
they have children now who live on
the west coast in the Golden State.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on April 9,2012

poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Pain I Forgot

It all started with my man and i sitting at the hospital waiting for blood test results to see what was happening to me
suddenly after hours of waiting the doctor came in and said congratulations your pregnant
months went by i still think of him as my most beautiful surprise
some days were hard others were easy most flew by
so im 3 days past my due date
been in back labor for 5 days
it hurts and its crazy
woke up to contractions at 11: 00
went to the hospital they said your 2 cm dilated
and we know your contractions are 4 mins appart
so go home try to walk as much as you can
walked for a half hour around the house contractions got 2 mins appart
they took me bk i was 4 an a half cm i said look just give me the epadural
they came back a half hour later my aunt kept saying sandy
blow out hunters birthday candles
they broke my water an gave me the epadural finally said ok its time to push
half way through the called in an expert
sandy dont panic but hes face up
now your gunna feel pressure just dont push
it wasnt pressure it was pain
i wanted to cry cause they had to turn him
next thing i know they say
sandy we have an expert here hes stuck your to small so we have to use the vaccume
i wanted to cry my aunt saw the tears in my eyes
the dad had to run out befor he fainted
my aunt held my hand cut the cord
then the pain was over,
they handed me my baby boy and i started to cry looked up at my aunt and said hes so beautiful as my bf walked in saw me holding hunter and we both cried and i forgot the pain
no ever time i look at him i can say i never wanna go through that again
but he is worth everything everyday

poem by Sandy Vanity
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Uncle Norm And Aunt Audrey

As a child I remember those days
when Aunt Audrey would come from faraway.
Aunt Audrey was tall and wore jewelry like rings
she brought gifts and interesting things.
Aunt Audrey lived in Japan, the far east
she had an interesting life to say the least.
Her daughters Marlena and Renee
had played with us for a couple of days.
Then they would leave on a plane
I would see them again at an older age.
Uncle Norm I also saw when I was young
we traveled to Rhode Island when I was age 1.
Then I would see Aunt Audrey & Norm
in the sunshine state—
they lived in a development with wooden gates.
I celebrate Christmas and the holidays
with them, Marlena and Renee.
Cousin Marlena and Renee
have children now who live on
the west coast in the Golden State.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on April 9,2012

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Yes, and it's my third movie with Richard. American Gigolo was my first.

quote by Hector Elizondo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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