Citatepedia^®.com

Wet Paint Is?

Paint that is wet. Whatever dude.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Paint Me Down

Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im walking into studio
Consider strange appeal
Paint me in the home
Im brushing up on sketchbook
Designs for love unreal
Paint me in the home
Oil and skin youll need to buy it
Consider what I mean
She sinks beneath thr moving pictures
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down
Im soaking up the surface
Conceaiving new idea
Paint me in the home
Shes oiling up her subject
But all still life is here
Paint me in the home
All the boys with framed dimension
A cover up on lust
Hell take his pain and paint it over
Prepare the brush for me
Im craving with this need
Paint me down
Paint me down
Paint me down

song performed by Spandau Ballet
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Dump The Dude

Hey girl, I wanna give you some friendly advice
Hes got you cryin, oh hes done it again
Hes made a date and he didnt show
You know hes done this to you so many times
When you gonna let him go
He doesnt treat you little a lover should
He could be so downright cruel
Cant understand why youre hangin with him
Girl, dont you be a fool
Go on and dump the dude
You know hes got a rotten attitude
He always leaves you in a cryin mood
Take my advice, dont you think twice
Listen to what Im telling you
Go on and dump the dude
You know that weve been friends for so many years
And Ive never ever seen you this way
So torn apart, how he gets to your heart
With all the little games that he plays
Just give him up, get him out of your life
Promise me that once and for all
Youre gonna tell him that its over and done
The very next time he calls, aint you now
Dump the dude
You know hes got a rotten attitude
He always leaves you in a cryin mood
Take my advice, find somebody nice
Listen to what Im telling you
Go on and dump the dude
Girl, I know you may think this is none of my business
But the fact that were friends I believe that makes it my business
I care about you but I aint preachin
I think you should dump the dude
I dont know why youd want to settle for less
When you could have so much more
You know that you deserve only the best
So what are you waiting for?
Go on and dump the dude
You know hes got a rotten attitude
He always leaves you in a cryin mood
Take my advice, dont you think twice
Find yourself somebody nice
Go on and dump the dude

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sign-Board

I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.

I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother's pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile,
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses to chat awhile.

I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him-
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.

And next I will paint a drunkard-
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathsome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.

I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling's side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin,
Labeled with one word-'lost,'
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Signboard

I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
And hang it above your door;
A truer and better signboard
Than ever you had before.
I will paint with the skill of a master,
And many shall pause to see
This wonderful piece of painting,
So like the reality.

I will paint yourself, rumseller,
As you wait for that fair young boy,
Just in the morning of manhood,
A mother’s pride and joy.
He has no thought of stopping,
But you greet him with a smile
And you seem so blithe and friendly,
That he pauses a chat awhile.

I will paint you again, rumseller,
I will paint you as you stand,
With a foaming glass of liquor
Extended in your hand.
He wavers, but you urge him –
Drink, pledge me just this one!
And he takes the glass and drains it,
And the hellish work is done.

And next I will paint a drunkard –
Only a year has flown,
But into that loathesome creature
The fair young boy has grown.
The work was sure and rapid.
I will paint him as he lies
In a torpid, drunken slumber,
Under the wintry skies.

I will paint the form of the mother
As she kneels at her darling’s side,
Her beautiful boy that was dearer
Than all the world beside.
I will paint the shape of a coffin
Labelled with one word – ‘Lost’
I will paint all this, rumseller,
And will paint it free of cost.

The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
The crime and the want and the woe
That are born there in your workshop,
No hand can paint, you know
But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Pheromone

Come
Lie down beneath my shadow
Lie down beneath my shadow with great delight
And your feel will be sweet 2 me
Come
My left hand under your head,
While my right embraces time
Therein, my virgin, loves wine
L is 4 lust
O is 4 obsession
V is 4 the vast way u envelop my soul
This is crazy, this is crazy
I could die from the pheromone
I can see the castle
I can see the throne
I can see the beloved and shes not alone
But its cool like that
Cuz Ill be diggin her just the same
I can see the curtain wrestled from the wall
I can see her hands tied
I can see it all
He pulls a gat
This is how they play the game
And Im round the the back
Cuz curiosity it knows no shame
Pheromone, rush over me like an ocean
Pheromone, controllin my every motion
Pheromone, Im helpless as a pet
Pheromone, when your bodys wet
I can feel the tension through the crack in the door
He begs 4 love, while shes disgusted more
And Im on fire, cause I never seen her nude before
I wanna save her (save her)
I want 2 watch (watch)
All my vital signs go up a couple of notches
When he unties her and she runs 2 the open door
He trips and grinds her (grinds her)
Right there all on the floor (on the floor)
She so close I can touch her (touch her)
Pheromone, rush over me like an ocean
Pheromone, controllin my every motion
Pheromone, Im helpless as a pet
Pheromone, when your bodys wet (bodys wet, bodys wet, bodys wet)
Her eyes are closed but theres no penetration
He just makes her point the pistol 2 his nose
While he masturbates and now I see a tear
Heading down towards her smile
What happens next it all depends upon your style
(oh, this is crazy baby)
Pheromone, (pheromone) rush over me like an ocean

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Pump It

Ha ha ha
Pump it
Ha ha ha
And pump it (louder) [4x]
Turn up the radio
Blast your stereo
Right
N*ggas wanna hate on us (who)
N*ggas can be eerin' us (who)
And I know why they hatin' on us (why)
Cause thats so fabulous (what)
Ima be real on us (cmon)
Nobody got nuttin' on us (no)
Girls be all on us, from London back down to the US (s, s)
We rockin' it (contagious), monkey business (outrageous)
Just confess, your girl admits that we the sh*t
F-R-E-S-H (fresh)
D-E-F, thats right we def (rock)
We definite B-E-P, we rappin' it
So, turn it up (turn it up) [3x]
Cmon baby, just
Pump it (louder) [6x]
And say, oh oh oh oh
Say, oh oh oh oh
Yo, yo
Turn up the radio
Blast your stereo
Right now
This joint is fizzlin'
Its sizzlin'
Right
(Yo, check this out right here)
Dude wanna hate on us (dude)
Dude need'a ease on up (dude)
Dude wanna act on up
But dude get shut like flavor shut (down)
Chicks say, she aint down
But chick backstage when we in town (ha)
She like man on drunk (fool)
She wanna hit n' run (errr)
Yeah, thats the speed
Thats what we do
Thats who we be
B-L-A-C-K -E -Y-E-D-P to the E, then the A to the S
When we play you shake your ass
Shake it, shake it, shake it girl
Make sure you dont break it, girl
Cause we gonna
Turn it up (turn it up) [3x]
Cmon baby, just

[...] Read more

song performed by Black Eyed Peas
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lover Man

Babys in the back seat, its so real
Gotta love the feel of the automobile
You get a certain style when youre so mobile
And responsibility you can avoid that trial
Walkin on the wild side
Lookin at the down side
Just a little crazy
Got a kind of strange pride
Standin at the back door, mercy me
Aint no place for the man to be
Its a private love, no publicity
And the woman that hes waitin for is bad news, hell see
Goin to a go-go
Slippin to a life low
Goin for the fake tan
Dreamin up a fashion plan
loverman
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Drivin into downtown right on time
Smokin like a pistol aimed on line
Waitin for the tingles in his back
All those dangerous feelings getting ready to attack
Walkin on the barbed wire
Playin with desire
Goin for the night plan
Breakin any heart he can
loverman
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Babys in the back seat
Gotta love the feel
Babys in the back seat
Gotta love the feel
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Hes a very superficial man
His suit is ten years older than his last flame
Hes the dude with the master plan
Hes a very superficial man

[...] Read more

song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

It's All wet, wet, wet

It's all wet, wet, wet
rainy and wet
cold and wet
hungry and wet
all day long
dark and wet
prepare your laundry dryer
I'm already wet
exhausted and wet
sleepy and wet
in this wet, wet, wet day

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Beach Wet

Baby...
Bring that magic to me.

Baby...
Bring that magic to me.

I am glad we met,
In this Summer season.
I'd like to lay on the beach wet!
And sweat for different reasons.

Baby...
Bring that magic to me.

Baby...
Bring that magic to me.

With music softly played,
Our bodies get delighted.
With a tan that the Sun bakes...
A taste of the rhythm the sand takes.

And baby...
Bring that magic to me.

Classy baby...
Bring that magic to me.

With music samba played,
Our bodies get delighted.
With a tan that the Sun bakes...
We dance in a rhythm that the sand takes.

With music softly played,
Our bodies get delighted.
With a tan that the Sun bakes...
A taste of the rhythm the sand takes.

I like to lay on the beach wet.
And sweat for different reasons.
I like to lay on the beach wet.
And sweat for different reasons.

Classy baby...
Bring that magic to me.

With music samba played,
Our bodies get delighted.
No better place to lay,
Than on a beach excited.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Fra Lippo Lippi

I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave!
You need not clap your torches to my face.
Zooks, what's to blame? you think you see a monk!
What, 'tis past midnight, and you go the rounds,
And here you catch me at an alley's end
Where sportive ladies leave their doors ajar?
The Carmine's my cloister: hunt it up,
Do—harry out, if you must show your zeal,
Whatever rat, there, haps on his wrong hole,
And nip each softling of a wee white mouse,
Weke, weke, that's crept to keep him company!
Aha, you know your betters! Then, you'll take
Your hand away that's fiddling on my throat,
And please to know me likewise. Who am I?
Why, one, sir, who is lodging with a friend
Three streets off—he's a certain...how d'ye call?
Master—a...Cosimo of the Medici,
I' the house that caps the corner. Boh! you were best!
Remember and tell me, the day you're hanged,
How you affected such a gullet's gripe!
But you, sir, it concerns you that your knaves
Pick up a manner nor discredit you:
Zooks, are we pilchards, that they sweep the streets
And count fair prize what comes into this net?
He's Judas to a tittle, that man is!
Just such a face! Why, sir, you make amends.
Lord, I'm not angry! Bid your hangdogs go
Drink out this quarter-florin to the health
Of the munificent House that harbors me
(And many more beside, lads! more beside!)
And all's come square again. I'd like his face—
His, elbowing on his comrade in the door
With the pike and lantern—for the slave that holds
John Baptist's head a-dangle by the hair
With one hand ("Look you, now," as who should say)
And his weapon in the other, yet unwiped!
It's not your chance to have a bit of chalk,
A wood-coal or the like? or you should see!
Yes, I'm the painter, since you style me so.
What, brother Lippo's doings, up and down,
You know them and they take you? like enough!
I saw the proper twinkle in your eye—
'Tell you, I liked your looks at very first.
Let's sit and set things straight now, hip to haunch.
Here's spring come, and the nights one makes up bands
To roam the town and sing out carnival,
And I've been three weeks shut within my mew,
A-painting for the great man, saints and saints
And saints again. I could not paint all night—
Ouf! I leaned out of window for fresh air.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Last Instructions to a Painter

After two sittings, now our Lady State
To end her picture does the third time wait.
But ere thou fall'st to work, first, Painter, see
If't ben't too slight grown or too hard for thee.
Canst thou paint without colors? Then 'tis right:
For so we too without a fleet can fight.
Or canst thou daub a signpost, and that ill?
'Twill suit our great debauch and little skill.
Or hast thou marked how antic masters limn
The aly-roof with snuff of candle dim,
Sketching in shady smoke prodigious tools?
'Twill serve this race of drunkards, pimps and fools.
But if to match our crimes thy skill presumes,
As th' Indians, draw our luxury in plumes.
Or if to score out our compendious fame,
With Hooke, then, through the microscope take aim,
Where, like the new Comptroller, all men laugh
To see a tall louse brandish the white staff.
Else shalt thou oft thy guiltless pencil curse,
Stamp on thy palette, not perhaps the worse.
The painter so, long having vexed his cloth--
Of his hound's mouth to feign the raging froth--
His desperate pencil at the work did dart:
His anger reached that rage which passed his art;
Chance finished that which art could but begin,
And he sat smiling how his dog did grin.
So mayst thou pérfect by a lucky blow
What all thy softest touches cannot do.

Paint then St Albans full of soup and gold,
The new court's pattern, stallion of the old.
Him neither wit nor courage did exalt,
But Fortune chose him for her pleasure salt.
Paint him with drayman's shoulders, butcher's mien,
Membered like mules, with elephantine chine.
Well he the title of St Albans bore,
For Bacon never studied nature more.
But age, allayed now that youthful heat,
Fits him in France to play at cards and treat.
Draw no commission lest the court should lie,
That, disavowing treaty, asks supply.
He needs no seal but to St James's lease,
Whose breeches wear the instrument of peace;
Who, if the French dispute his power, from thence
Can straight produce them a plenipotence..
Nor fears he the Most Christian should trepan
Two saints at once, St Germain, St Alban,
But thought the Golden Age was now restored,
When men and women took each other's word.

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Marvell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Spots On A Paint Rag

Spots on a paint rag trying to figure out
if they're part of a larger picture.
Daubs and smudges and smears of black and red.
Topographies of dry thick ridges of blue acrylic,
peach-coloured mesas bruised
by the encroaching violets of dusk in a painted desert.
Are these the wanna-be windows of life
who failed to achieve a whole and harmonious view
of what they're doing here swiping off knives
thick with the gore of cadmium red,
cleaning off brushes that get to go out
on the field to caress and poke
stars and trees into being? Waterboys, not players.

I say the word, life, and I feel tonight like
the heaviness of a bell that's supplanted my heart.
The right root, but the wrong blossom.
Even though I'd melt that bell
back down into raucous cannon
to defend the concept to my very last breath.
But tonight I'm tunnelling under the foundations
of the cornerstones of life to bring
the walls down on top of my head,
like an avalanche of prophetic skulls
to just get a peek inside the grand paradigm,
the white light of the gessoed underpainting.
The secret garden with low-hanging fruit
on easy street with the sacred whores of Babylon.

An existential sadness, deep as a death-wound,
as if I'd just been stabbed in the heart
by the hands of a clock that mistook me for an intruder,
undermines me from below, a pyramid built on quicksand.
As if all those who had drowned in life
like fish up over their gills in water
were swimming in the watershed of every tear
that almost makes it up over the top of the dam
I try to throw up like a manly front to what
I know I won't be able to hold back for long.

And there go the villages in the flooded valley
I tried to live among like a neighbourly mountain
come to Muhammad on the way up and down.
It's cold and lonely and the air is thin
at the peaks of experience, with only
a star and a cloud for company.
The hard diamond in the rough I used to be
has grown mushy over the years. Tears.
Imagine that. Warm, salt seas with undulant tides
of emotion coursing in and out,

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Wet Dream

My lips start shakin' when I see him walkin' down the street
Of all the boys in school, he's the only one I wanna meet
If he combs his hair, all my girlfriends start 2 scream
He's so clean, he's the number one star of my wet dream
I get so angry if I see him with another dame
I start 2 tremble and I don't even know his name
If he takes her 2 the soda shop, guess who's gonna buy the ice cream?
She gives him all her money cuz he's the star of her wet dream
Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, boy he's so fine
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, gotta, gotta make him mine
My body starts 2 quiver when I think of his next 2 mine
I know he could deliver the dam 2 the river anytime
He's so good lookin', he's the cutest dude I ever seen
He's my little lover, number one star of my wet dream
Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, boy he's so fine
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, gotta, gotta make him mine
Oh yeah
Make my body scream
U're the star of my wet dream
Somebody, somebody, somebody help me sing
U're my little lover, make my body scream
U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream
(Everybody sing 2gether)
U're my little lover, U make my body scream (Make my body scream)
U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream {repeat phrase}
Yes U is
(Everybody sing 2gether)
Yeah, yeah
(U're my star)
Oh honey, honey, honey, honey, uh
My wet dream, my wet dream, my wet dream
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
(U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream)
Yeah, ooh ooh ooh
I can't help it, no, I can't (Make my body scream, yes U)
Honey, honey, honey, honey, honey, honey, honey
U're my little lover, U make my body scream

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Day's Plans Go Awry

It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.

'Hey Mom, what's rain, what makes it fall? '
Asked Zachary, sincere.
'When will it stop, will it at all?
I can't be stuck in here.'

It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
As God begins to cry.

'It's God's tears, my son, he must weep,
For all of us on earth.
The pain we feel, we cannot keep,
Ourselves alone from birth.'

It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
For our pain God must cry.

'But Mom, God's cried, every day,
He must be getting weak.
Tell him to laugh, that's what I'd say,
And try that for a week.'

It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
Why do we make him cry?

'But ah, my son, you do not know,
How much hurt God has felt.
So our Father, he has to show,
Us what our pain has dealt.'

It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry.
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
God doesn't want to cry.

'So Mom, then why, do we hurt God?
How can we be so bad?
Why do we hurt each other too?
We know it makes him sad.'

[...] Read more

poem by Steven Rodgers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Want To Paint

I

I want to paint
2000 dead birds crucified on a background of night
Thoughts that lie too deep for tears
Thoughts that lie too deep for queers
Thoughts that move at 186,000 miles/second
The Entry of Christ into Liverpool in 1966
The installation of Roger McGough in the Chair of Poetry at Oxford
Francis Bacon making the President's Speech at the Royal Academy dinner

I want to paint
50 life-sized nudes of Marianne Faithfull
(all of them painted from life)
Welsh Maids by Welsh Waterfalls
Heather Holden as Our Lady of Haslingden
A painting as big as Piccadilly full of neon signs and buses
Christmas decorations and beautiful girls with dark blonde hair shading their faces

I want to paint
The assassination of the entire Royal Family
Enormous pictures of every pavingstone in Canning Street
The Beatles composing a new national anthem
Brian Patten writing poems with a flamethrower on disused ferry boats
A new cathedral 50 miles high made entirely of pram wheels
An empty Woodbine packet covered in kisses
I want to paint
A picture made from the tears of dirty-faced children in Chatham Street

I want to paint
I LOVE YOU across the steps of St. George's hall
I want to paint

Pictures
II

I want to paint
The Simultaneous and Historical Faces of Death
10,000 shocking pink hearts with your name on
The phantom negro postmen who bring me money in my dreams
The first plastic daffodil of spring pushing its way
Through the OMO packets in the supermarket
The portrait of every sixth-form schoolgirl in the country
A full-scale map of the world with YOU at the centre
An enormous lily-of-the-valley with every flower on a separate canvas

Life-sized jelly babies shaped like Hayley Mills
A black-and-red flag flying over Parliament
I want to paint
Every car crash on all the motorways of England

[...] Read more

poem by Adrian Henri
Added by Poetry Lover
1 comment - Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Paint Dimensionality Soul In Oils

if I painted pictures
I would draw you in charcoal
wash away drama tears in watercolours
paint dimensionality of durability soul in oils
span a universe of senses touch emotions thoughts

if I painted pictures
I would paint dream images
I would paint visions of inner mind's eye
I would paint life in veils swirling kaleidoscopic moods
I would paint canvasses imprinting fabric expanding universes

but I travel eons far
load canvasses are too heavy
I walk journey through many phase worlds
seasons landscapes in many climates beckon bled feet
I paint mind songs in words life haunting edges spaces

swallow flame words into soul at own risk
I paint distances between seen unseen at world's edges
I paint portraits above beneath mask as multi veils
I paint shift faces figures skin deeds intended done deeds
I paint poetry life in shifting kaleidoscopic images souls

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Purple And Silver

frozen evenings
on me, they camp greetings
intruding me to the dark feelings
demolishing any happy traces
that i once discovered
teardropp cases, these faces
never seem to get em' outta my head
paint in purple, paint it silver

track a train
to the valley of midnight pain
which i once suffered
i still suffer
when we look back to the spring shower
they left us, leaving poison flowers
i extracted the pulp
she wrapped the words
we made a bomb
mark our words
paint them purple, paint them silver

bang bang now check this out
heavy storm outside
reminds me of one inside
tornado of tears
volcano of fears
but they had to hit
and hit they did
birth of a kid
off color white
put up a fight
listening to 9 crimes
i've been given too much time
he did his part
i broke mine fast
paint it silver
msg delivered
paint it purple
i start to crumble

over the top
the boat beneath the blue whale
river of lost got a new sail
they met the pain at the oceans date
cross the fence in senses
sit at the last bench
bury the drench

[...] Read more

poem by Talal Athar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Good Foot

I aint tryin to be rude dude
But we tryin to tear up the place, come on
Hey Timbo (yeah)
Dont you hate it when a dude starts actin up
Like this fella over here with his hands on the scuff
Be muggin and carryin on
Hey J.T. (yeah)
Why these dudes keep starin at us
I dont know but Im about to find out whats up
Be easy dont take it to rough
Talk to them
Im not being cocky
I just noticed that she was lookin at me
Chill homeboy be cool
Cause there aint no reason for all the fussin at me
Its just gettin started
And theres alot of fish around here
Just shakin their jelly
I aint tryin to be rude dude
But we tryin to tear up the place, come on
Chorus:
There aint nothing to it
If you wanna get down
Then we can do it, do it
There aint nothing to it
Get out your seat (why)
You aint glued to it
Be easy and watch that tone
Keep stepping with your new suede shoes on
Boys and girls lets all sing along
Now everybody just get on the good foot
Get on the good foot
Now how am I supposed to know shes yours
She aint got no ring on her finger
It aint our fault homeboy
That your girl likes to wonder and linger
You actin so serious
We just danced I aint even ask for her number
Dont be mad cause we the life of the party
We aint really tryin to hurt nobody, talk to them
Im not being cocky
I just noticed that she was lookin at me
Chill homeboy be cool
Cause there aint no reason for all the fussin at me
Its just gettin started
And theres alot of fish around here
Just shakin their jelly
I aint tryin to be rude dude
But we tryin to tear up the place, come on
Chorus:

[...] Read more

song performed by Justin Timberlake
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Images Birth Wet Paint Born

wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
images birth wet paint born
images born in liquid imagination
images born in landscape infinity
images born in individual creativity
images born in artistic genius ability
images born in limitless multiplicity

Copyright © Terence George Craddock
See also the poems ‘Layers Of Wet Paint Applied’ and ‘Interactions Invoke Imagination Entrances’.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Paint body art beautiful

her majesty the hand
with nail graffiti polish
pain in henna red
paint in henna black
paint paint my heart

paint body art faithful
faithful to the strokes
paint in strokes divine
paint in strokes of red
paint in strokes of black
paint paint my heart

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!