Toughness doesn't have to come in a pinstriped suit.
quote by Dianne Feinstein
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The Talk Show Circuit
A blue suit with short hair
Speaking empty speech
To a tanned girl
With long legs and a beautiful mouth
A gray suit with gray hair
Speaking empty speech
To a fair skinned girl
With sexy hips and cherry red lips
A black suit with a pink tie
Speaking empty speech
To a Latin girl
In a green dress with lovely breasts
A pinstriped suit with a silver tie
Speaking empty speech
To an Asian girl
With rosy cheeks and perfect knees
…Too much television
© J. James Martinez
poem by J. James Martinez
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Skinny Sweaty Man
Flashin' lots of cash and spendin' lots-o-loot
he's sitting at the bar - then he's sittin' at the booth
across the dance floor he does scoot
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
The caboose that could he goes toot toot
been known to gag and sometimes puke
a very good friend of granny goose
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
Skinny sweaty man in the green suit
He's half man and half cartoon
but good buddy don't be confused
he's full blooded looney tune
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
Face to face with the man in the moon
his family doctor is doctor seuss
if you catch him in your soup please don't shoot
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
Skinny sweaty man in the green suit
He was new in town
a free wheelin' clown
a funny young duke
hangin' under the roof
of a place in time
united sound
he'll play a little guitar sing a few blues
he's the kind-a-guy that you can't refuse
despite the fact that he's no brute
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
Strike the magic groove make him jerk and move
like an eight legged freak in snake skin boots
coming soon to a theatre near you
he's the skinny sweaty man in the green suit
song performed by Red Hot Chili Peppers from The Uplift Mofo Party Plan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Three Button Hand Me Down
(rod stewart, ian mclagen)
I dont need no ones opinion
On the matter concerning my dress.
I was raised in a clinic down in oklahoma,
There were many things I did not possess.
Well I never complained, because my father said,
Son you get your chance before youre my age.
Then he took me upstairs and gave me this suit
(? ) written all over his face
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down
Three button hand me down
Hold on a minute
Now I had my fair share of neat women,
But they came between me and my suit.
That was a filly from boston, a barmaid from houston,
Not forgetting the one in detroit.
They said, we like you boy and we think youre sweet,
But cant you lose your suit?
I said, nononono, you cant do that to me
I remember what my father said:
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever youre goin
Three button hand me down, ha ha,
Three button hand me down
Ive never been a tidy dresser
And the fold in my trousers it aint straight.
Still I know a good cloth when I see one.
Thats why Im clad in this gray flannel suit.
Sometimes I wonder if I should visit a tailor
And get myself a smooth outfit.
Then I remember what my father said to me.
I make it from the open road, you all know this
He said, others may come and others may go,
But that suit will be around wherever you go
Three button hand me down,
Three button hand me down, ha ha
song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Leisure Suit Serenade
Wearin old t-shirts and grubby jeans
People say I look kinda odd
Well, Im never accepted in the social set
cause they say that Im a clod
But once in a while, I go to my closet
And I put on something mod
And when I step out in my leisure suit
People stand up and applaud
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade
Now, it dont matter if the collars bent
If its got nylon twenty percent
Now Im as cool as the asb president
Leisure suit serenade
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade, oh yeah
Thats the leisure suit serenade
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Superman
you've been on my mind and I don't think I have the time
to listen to your voice
I've heard it all before, it's been seeping through the floor
shut behind closed doors
but I can see right through you now
the beneficial lies are told to keep us with closed eyes
shading what's in store
I guess it's up to me to find the luck and turn the key
and open up these doors but I can see right through you now....
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
well you've been on my mind and I don't think I have the time
to listen to your voice
I've heard it all before, it's been seeping through the floor
shut behind closed doors
but I can see right through you now
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
I don't want to follow
you can't make me follow
I don't want to follow
you cant make me follow now
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
ah yeah I'm superman
a three-piece suit and master plan
here I come to save the day
song performed by Unwritten Law
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IV. Tertium Quid
True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Orlando Furioso Canto 5
ARGUMENT
Lurcanio, by a false report abused,
Deemed by Geneura's fault his brother dead,
Weening the faithless duke, whom she refused,
Was taken by the damsel to her bed;
And her before the king and peers accused:
But to the session Ariodantes led,
Strives with his brother in disguise. In season
Rinaldo comes to venge the secret treason.
I
Among all other animals who prey
On earth, or who unite in friendly wise,
Whether they mix in peace or moody fray,
No male offends his mate. In safety hies
The she bear, matched with hers, through forest gray:
The lioness beside the lion lies:
Wolves, male and female, live in loving cheer;
Nor gentle heifer dreads the wilful steer.
II
What Fury, what abominable Pest
Such poison in the human heart has shed,
That still 'twixt man and wife, with rage possessed,
Injurious words and foul reproach are said?
And blows and outrage hase their peace molest,
And bitter tears still wash the genial bed;
Not only watered by the tearful flood,
But often bathed by senseless ire with blood?
III
Not simply a rank sinner, he appears
To outrage nature, and his God to dare,
Who his foul hand against a woman rears,
Or of her head would harm a single hair.
But who what drug the burning entrail sears,
Or who for her would knife or noose prepare,
No man appears to me, though such to sight
He seem, but rather some infernal sprite.
IV
Such, and no other were those ruffians two,
Whom good Rinaldo from the damsel scared,
Conducted to these valleys out of view,
That none might wot of her so foully snared.
I ended where the damsel, fair of hue,
To tell the occasion of her scathe prepared,
To the good Paladin, who brought release;
And in conclusion thus my story piece.
[...] Read more
poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.
I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,
By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.
Yes! 'twas sublime, but sad. - The loneliness
Loaded thy heart, the desert tired thine eye;
And strange and awful fears began to press
Thy bosom with a stern solemnity.
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nigh,
Something that show'd of life, though low and mean;
Glad sight, its curling wreath of smoke to spy,
Glad sound, its cock's blithe carol would have been,
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows green.
Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes
An awful thrill that softens into sighs;
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakes,
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise:
Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies,
Chides wild Loch-Eribol his caverns hoar-
But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize
Of desert dignity to that dread shore,
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar.
II.
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd,
When bold halloo and bugle blast
Upon the breeze came loud and fast.
'There,' said the Bruce, 'rung Edward's horn!
What can have caused such brief return?
And see, brave Ronald,- see him dart
O'er stock and stone like hunted hart,
Precipitate, as is the use,
In war or sport, or Edward Bruce.
- He marks us, and his eager cry
Will tell his news ere he be nigh.'
III.
Loud Edward shouts, 'What make ye here,
Warring upon the mountain-deer,
When Scotland wants her King?
A bark from Lennox cross'd our track,
With her in speed I hurried back,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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SWIM SUIT GIRL...by Talile Ali
I WANNA TAKE A WHIRL
WITH MY RED HEADED
FUNKY WALKIN
SWIM SUIT GIRL
RUN AROUND THE BASES
AS SHE GIVES ME A WHIRL
MAKE IT WITH
MY SWIM SUIT GIRL
DANCE AND ROMANCE
IN HER PANTS
IN A TRANCE LOVIN
MY SWIM SUIT GIRL
OH I CAN'T HELP BUT WANNA
GO FOR A WHIRL
DANCIN WITH
MY SWIM SUIT GIRL
SHE LIKES TO BOOGIE
AND LIKES TO ROCK
SHE'A A BAD ASS ROMANTIC
WITH THE SWEETEST LEG LOCK
AND I LIKE
TO TAKE HER FAR AS I CAN
AND I LIKE
TO DO HER BECAUSE I'M HER MAN
SO I CAN'T WAIT
CAUSE I GOT A DATE
WITH MY SWIM SUIT GIRL
DANCIN AND ROMANCIN
AS SHE GIVE'S ME A TWIRL
SPINNING WITH MY SWIM SUIT GIRL
poem by Talile Ali
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The Bespoke Suit
That bespoke suit it looked grand so beaut
It adorned this guy drinking alone at the bar,
Would he sell it, that smashing suit
Indeed if only, I'd feel like a rising star,
Such a fine cut of pure merino wool
With a blue hanky peeping from his top pocket.
I turned my head an' he was gone leaving my mind to mull,
I ran to the door his car took off like a rocket,
Looking at my poor excuse of a suit so so raggy,
A week fly's by bespoke in my dreams never ending,
Love will never come with my trousers so baggy.
I see a girl stroking that bespoke suit...dreams keep sending,
Well blow me down with a feather there he stands again at the bar,
'Hello there my names John I think your suit is so bespoke,
Would you sell it to me to shine my star, '
'Gimme' double what I paid then it's yours no joke'
A sum agreed an' I put the cash in his hand quick smart,
Within an hour adorned with that bespoke my soul begins to soften,
My life anew dressed so fine lady luck about to start.
Standing at THAT bar a Marilyn Monroe type strokes my suit and says
'Do you come here often? '
poem by Ken e Hall
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A lot of people are afraid to tell the truth, to say no. That's where toughness comes into play. Toughness is not being a bully. It's having backbone.
quote by Robert Kiyosaki
Added by Lucian Velea
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Too Over Qualified
Look!
Simply put.
We are needing today,
To stop making reference to brilliance...
Power, strength and entitlements.
We need someone immediately,
That can masquerade an image of toughness.
All that brilliant stuff,
Did absolutely nothing to cover our incompetence.
We have become the laughing stock of our neighbors.
And frankly,
We have no one to date...
That can successfully charade this symbolic idol.
Although many adore our present leader,
He is making us all look like fools.
Even our objections to his correctness,
Has others mocking us better than any Shakespeare play.
Look!
Simply put.
We are needing today,
To stop making reference to brilliance...
Power, strength and entitlements.
We need someone immediately,
That can masquerade an image of toughness.
All that brilliant stuff,
Did absolutely nothing to cover our incompetence.
We have become the laughing stock of our neighbors.
Who else is out there we can blame,
Without exposing too much more of our own ignorance?
We need someone who can text, dance, rap...
Easy on the eye, drinks beer and can play basketball.
'Sir? '
What is it?
'Sir,
That's the leader we already have.
Are you saying he is too over qualified?
And we are the ones in need of getting our acts together? '
If my grandfather was alive,
He'd have the answer.
'Oh.
Your grandfather Moonshine Johnny? '
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The colored spin wheel of death
The vacuum of a spin
And people dying
Style overcoming the substance
Being blighted by
A dearth of dialectic
Decoding the coded languages
Preparing the public opinion
Trading information
Slipping out announcements
Aggressive complaints
Briefings
Specific channels
Separating
Collapsing
Advocating the absence of something
Black holes
Orbiting each other
Revealing in death spin
Collisions
Gravitational waves generating
Aircraft spinning out of control
Kicking the rudder during
A high angle of attack stall.
The market refusing to refinance at cheap rates
Triggering a 'currency death spiral.'
Toughness multiplying toughness
In a descending spiral of destruction.
The spiral of misery
Dramatically moving downward
With a constant speed
Civil conflict or a constitutional death spiral
Unknown conscience and rhizomatic revolution
Death of the 'Unipolar world''
Death spin of conscience
[...] Read more
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The sword and the shield
Courage is not a sword to fight with.
Courage is ability to handle the sword.
Toughness is not a shield to defend with.
Toughness is ability to hold the shield.
10.09.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I'm 85 Years Old
Fantasies get younger
I am getting older
what I look like
wrinkles tell my pride, even wisdom if may I say so
have gone through toughness
I have learned from it
Hope
there are so many things left I want to go through
Kindness
that is the clue I look for them with
I try to imagine what kindness is like
I try to draw my past staying with my heart
I have realized that I have had many things left
I want to go through again
Now all I remember is everything full of kindness
in spite of toughness
I am feeling my heart in those days joyful
I am 85 years old
fantasies will never get older
but I'd like to start all over again
making a big smile to younger generations by telling
you will be fine
poem by Wabi Sabi
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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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The Marriage Of Geraint
The brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur's court,
A tributary prince of Devon, one
Of that great Order of the Table Round,
Had married Enid, Yniol's only child,
And loved her, as he loved the light of Heaven.
And as the light of Heaven varies, now
At sunrise, now at sunset, now by night
With moon and trembling stars, so loved Geraint
To make her beauty vary day by day,
In crimsons and in purples and in gems.
And Enid, but to please her husband's eye,
Who first had found and loved her in a state
Of broken fortunes, daily fronted him
In some fresh splendour; and the Queen herself,
Grateful to Prince Geraint for service done,
Loved her, and often with her own white hands
Arrayed and decked her, as the loveliest,
Next after her own self, in all the court.
And Enid loved the Queen, and with true heart
Adored her, as the stateliest and the best
And loveliest of all women upon earth.
And seeing them so tender and so close,
Long in their common love rejoiced Geraint.
But when a rumour rose about the Queen,
Touching her guilty love for Lancelot,
Though yet there lived no proof, nor yet was heard
The world's loud whisper breaking into storm,
Not less Geraint believed it; and there fell
A horror on him, lest his gentle wife,
Through that great tenderness for Guinevere,
Had suffered, or should suffer any taint
In nature: wherefore going to the King,
He made this pretext, that his princedom lay
Close on the borders of a territory,
Wherein were bandit earls, and caitiff knights,
Assassins, and all flyers from the hand
Of Justice, and whatever loathes a law:
And therefore, till the King himself should please
To cleanse this common sewer of all his realm,
He craved a fair permission to depart,
And there defend his marches; and the King
Mused for a little on his plea, but, last,
Allowing it, the Prince and Enid rode,
And fifty knights rode with them, to the shores
Of Severn, and they past to their own land;
Where, thinking, that if ever yet was wife
True to her lord, mine shall be so to me,
He compassed her with sweet observances
And worship, never leaving her, and grew
Forgetful of his promise to the King,
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Victories Of Love. Book I
I
From Frederick Graham
Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:
As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Letter to Satan
You Satan
In whose blood do you swear?
Whose bloody hand do you wear?
You Satan
The World cries
Your cold, sadistic teeth sink so deep
Carcasses lie in battle fields, eyes hauntingly sunk so deep.
The World cries.
Your Messengers
In pinstriped suits, cut deals of greed and death
The valleys, plains, stink with death!
Yours Messengers
God sees you
His time is here, your teeth in hell you'll grind
The numbers are counting; wages shall be paid in kind
God sees you!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Law Of The Bungle
The tiger flashes sharpened teeth.
Bowler-hatted; summer briefs
Beneath his pinstriped skin.
To kill demands a business sense;
Economy moves non-residence
Approaching from down-wind.
Being a tiger means you laugh
Whenever lesser tigers have
To eat meat thats infected.
Being a tiger means your mate
When overfed will defecate
In places least expected.
Knowing a tiger means you must
Accept his promise of mutual trust
And offer him your throat.
Loving a tiger means you take
Second place to the cake you bake
And with undying servile obedience
Keep the stiffly starched collar
Of his conference shirt spotless
And remove daily the daubed bloody
Evidence of his dastardly misdeeds
From the otherwise immaculate elegance
Of his pinstripe tiger coat.
Period.
song performed by Jethro Tull
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