Quotes about foxy, page 3
Come On! We Can Do It!
The hearts that dwell in the pitch dark,
Glow like the sun when filled with love and care,
The opaque body and the inefficient lights,
Keep the hearts in the dark, behind the wall and the hedge.
Vicious heart that is foxy in nature,
Kind heart that is smooth as petals,
The venturous heart that is vulture in action,
The fickle heart is like an ape in motion.
Too little heart vested with too many functions,
Fist sized hearts are troubled with delusion,
Monotonous life not appealing to human,
Rhythm of hearts changes with damages done.
Can have the notorious things to shake the head,
The racing heart yearn for pleasurable shrouds,
In the bright day light and at the pitch of the dark night,
Let us celebrate to change the rhythm of the hearts.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
There was a man in our town who had King Midas' touch;
He gave away his millions to the colleges and such;
And people cried: "The hypocrite! He ought to understand
The ones who really need him are the children of this land!"
When Andrew Croesus built a home for children who were sick,
The people said they rather thought he did it as a trick,
And writers said: "He thinks about the drooping girls and boys,
But what about conditions with the men whom he employs?"
There was a man in our town who said that he would share
His profits with his laborers, for that was only fair,
And people said: "Oh, isn't he the shrewd and foxy gent?
It cost him next to nothing for that free advértisement!"
There was a man in our town who had the perfect plan
To do away with poverty and other ills of man,
But he feared the public jeering, and the folks who would defame him,
So he never told the plan he had, and I can hardly blame him.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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So Shines a Good Deed in a Naughty World
There was a man in our town, and he
was wondrous rich;
He gave away his millions to the colleges
and sich;
And people cried: "The hypocrite! He ought
to understand
The ones who really need him are the children
of this land."
When Andrew Croesus built a home for children
who were sick,
The people said they rather thought he did it
as a trick,
And writers said: "He thinks about the drooping
girls and boys,
But what about conditions with the men whom
he employs?"
There was a man in our town who said that he
would share
[...] Read more
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Stealing Your Homes Salaried Employment
How will vile
sickening mega rich
strip away your hard
won savings;
steal your homes
salaried employment
your pride honour
integrity with immunity?
Wall street foxy bankers
players will glorify themselves
with hoax extortion rackets
internal trading investments;
housing markets will implode
crash rendering millions
homeless create recessions
global while corporate bankers;
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Not My City
This isn't the kind of city,
Once I called my own.
The city belongs to foxy politicians,
Unscrupulous traders, flesh racketeers, pimps, loompens, rapists,
But this cannot be my city.
The city belongs to mute witnesses,
To rape and murder but not to me,
The city belongs to hypocrites,
Feigning nonchalance to the sight of destitute,
At slums and beggars dying on the avenues of the rich.
This is the city of the escapists,
Who at the slightest premonition of a peril,
Make the hastiest retreat.
This is the city of the spooks
They stoically sit on the piles of injustice;
Here they go into rhapsodies,
Over the question of life after death.
This is the city of the soothsayers,
Agents of self-aggrandizement, opportunists.
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poem by Taslima Nasrin
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Everybody's Makin' It Big But Me
Elvis he's a hero he's a superstar
And I hear that Paul McCartney drives a Rolls Royse car
And Dylan sings for millions
And I just sing for free
Oh everybody's makin' it big but me
Oh, everybody's makin' it big but me
Everybody's makin' it big but me
Neil Diamond sings for diamonds
And here's ole rhinestone me
Oh everybody's makin' it big but me
Well I hear that Alice Cooper's got a foxy chick
To wipe off his snake, keep him rich
And Elton John's got two fine ladies
And Doctor John's got three
And I'm still seein' them same old sleezoes
That I used to see
Oh, everybody's makin' it big but me
Everybody's makin' it big but me
I've got charisma
And personality
[...] Read more
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Blair Hand Caught Red Faced In Cookie Jar
George W Bush snake Tony Blair fox trot both asserted
repeatedly Iraq boogeyman Saddam definitely possessed;
Weapons of Mass Destruction WMD’s despite US Iraq...
Survey Group failure to find any weapons quietly closed.
Please focus a spotlight of truth upon false propaganda
fraudulent claim of capitalist politicians in Bush-Blair;
Iraq war of oil arms deals lies smoke screen oily rhetoric...
'I have no doubt that they will find the clearest possible
evidence of Saddam's weapons of mass destruction' Blair
exclaims 4 June 2003, craftily modified into foxy version;
'I have absolutely no doubt at all that we will find evidence
of weapons of mass destruction programmes' was vamped
up declaration of 8 July 2003; degrading into hand caught
red faced in cookie jar, embarrassed, quick pass-the-buck;
get-me-out-of-this-tar-trap-my-litany-of- lies, justified...
'I can only tell you I believed the (prepared phony created
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Alphabet A Was Once An Apple
A was once an apple pie, apple apply papply
B was once bouncy ball, bally bally bouncy ball
C was once a little cat, catty couty catty little cat
D was once little dog, doggy dagy doogy little dog
E was once soaring eagle, eagly giggly soaring eagle
F was once littlel fox, foxy faxy little fox
G was once little goat, goaty gooty little goat
H was once a litlle hen, heeny hanny little hen
I was once black ink, inky inniky black ink
J was once funny jester, jestary jesteery funny jester
K was once little kitten, kitty katty little kitten
L was once a little lama, aama leemy a little lama
M was once wild moose, moosy masa wild moose
N was once tiny nut, nutty natty tiny nut
O was once orange, rangy rongy little orange
P was once panda, panny pandy little panda
Q was once sweet queen, queeny neeny sweet queen
R was once a rabbit, rabbity battity little rabbit
S was once a snake naky naky sneaky snake
T was once a turtle, tuttly tattly little turtle
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poem by Sherif Monem
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Did My Eyes Deceive
Should I see an optician, doubt
Should I seek a visionary, doubt
Should I find a seer, great doubt
She was flawless and perfect, no doubt
Was it beauty or elegance, both
Did my eyes deceive, never
Should I seek an illusionist, never
Can i call the prophets, never
Will the elders define, never
Is it a miracle of miracles, never
Did my eyes deceive, never
She was wonderfully made,
I desire the hands of the Creator,
Fashioning an embodiment of beauty,
A perfect replica of reality,
I saw greatness in the creativity,
Resisting all sources of ambiguity,
It is true, i saw beauty,
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poem by Gaylord Munemo
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You, Doctor Martin
You, Doctor Martin, walk
from breakfast to madness. Late August,
I speed through the antiseptic tunnel
where the moving dead still talk
of pushing their bones against the thrust
of cure. And I am queen of this summer hotel
or the laughing bee on a stalk
of death. We stand in broken
lines and wait while they unlock
the doors and count us at the frozen gates
of dinner. The shibboleth is spoken
and we move to gravy in our smock
of smiles. We chew in rows, our plates
scratch and whine like chalk
in school. There are no knives
for cutting your throat. I make
moccasins all morning. At first my hands
kept empty, unraveled for the lives
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poem by Anne Sexton
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