Bricks and mortar make a house, but the laughter of children makes a home.
Related quotes
Composing is like driving down a foggy road toward a house. Slowly you see more details of the house-the color of the slates and bricks, the shape of the windows. The notes are the bricks and the mortar of the house.
quote by Benjamin Britten
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I provide the bricks and mortar with the words and situations - the director and the actors and the designers build the house.
quote by Eric Bogosian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just a little poem about a house
A house made out of glass and bricks
That has seen some tricks
A house that has been here for years
This house has witnessed some happiness and some tears
This is house used to be my home,
Used to call it my dome
Now it doesn’t exist anymore
Glass and bricks are swept to the floor
Memories of the past, weren’t meant to last
The only thing that still stands, is the drawing in your hands.
poem by Oopsie Woopsie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The House That Built Jack
Scorched white by the lowly hung sun,
Crouched underneath the low ceiling sky.
Could burn his fingerprints right off,
Could be his last underground loft.
There's trick draws and the walls are too dry,
The stairs don't go up, the roof doesn't tilt,
In the house that Jack built.
An architect of soil and ash,
He buried and burned what wouldn't build.
The house strong with mortar and bricks,
The home strong, strong as straw and sticks.
Warm if he's willing, weak as he's willed,
The bell can't ring and the flowers won't wilt,
In the house that Jack built.
There's phantoms in the furniture,
In the company of his own ghost.
Trade family for plastic house plants,
Trade your heart if the clock enchants.
Never the neighbour, nobody's host,
Watch your head, mind your step, beware the guilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The labyrinth, he burnt it down,
There's a well but he can't choose a wish.
Etched the blueprints onto his skin,
From his own flaws; thereof; therein.
Unsmash the mirrors, face the blemish,
All work and no play, Jack can't find the hilt,
In the house that Jack built.
The house speaks to Jack and moves him.
Along the floorboards beneath the dust.
He's the shadow the bulbs can't touch.
He's the loft filled with far too much.
His house a temple; In jack we trust.
Home is where the heart, like cement, is spilt,
In the house that Jack built.
Home is where your soul must fill in each crack;
Home is what makes up for what you lack;
Home is what's bringing this flashback;
The house that built Jack.
poem by Ella Veyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Live with Laughter
So much time passess
We have moments of saddness
At other times it seems like we are passed depressed
One thing will keep us together
Its the sound of joy
Laughter from a little kid
The sound of there high pitch laughter
The laughter at every new thing they see
Laughter makes our day better
Laughter makes our life worth living
Nothing can make you feel better rather than laughter
So make someone laugh make yourself laugh and live life
poem by Lexie Bousman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Building A House Of Prayer (1)
We need a house God’s praise to sing
A house in which to pray
A house to glorify our King
And serve in truth each day
Before our house we start to build
We must provide for man
Forms and documents must be filled
Consent and building plan
So much red tape must first be cut
Obstructions here and there
The lion’s mouth we need to shut
And God is everywhere
The world machine has need of oil
This truth we all must learn
Before we put a spade to soil
Money’s a grave concern
Lets give to God a willing heart
Not just with praise and prayer
From earthly wealth lets give a part
And show how much we care
Lets lend the plough a willing hand
Lets make His Son our choice
Through bricks, mortar, timber and sand
Lets raise in joy our voice
For Satan hates a house of prayer
Detests a house of praise
He’ll try to hinder everywhere
And stop each wall we raise
But God gives things that cannot fade
In hands of flesh and bone
When foundations in truth are laid
With Christ as Corner Stone…P.T.O
poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home On a Hill
I travel towards a house that's not a home
My home is on a hill burnt down
Burnt by the love of money and fame
Burning before we crashed
Half dead before we died
He dragged us along to leave us behind
He followed his idols of money and fame
He took us from Olympus to none
We had beaten the horizon
But he turned us away from the sun
My home on a hill was a happy home
My home till he burnt it down
I waved through the window
Said goodbye with a frown
And was told that the new house was better
These bricks and others can be what they want
Maybe the worst would be better
All he saw was a green shade of black
Enough is never the end of the track
We move on and further away
But the house on a hill was a home
When the Parents Refuse to Come Home
When the parents refuse to come home
The children sleep beneath the babysitter’s skirt.
She will eat you out of house and home.
When the parents refuse to come home
The children shall set the house on fire,
And the babysitter shall save the family pet
That is content to be hand fed at the breast.
This night the parents are outside the loop,
They are out for a night on the town to renew their bound without the incessant want of children who shall burn the house down for attention.
The babysitter is watching TV under the blaze of the burning house where the family pet snicks beneath the smoke colleted by the ceiling.
When the parents stay out all night the children are discontented with the babysitter who have no time for children, she rather babysat the TV.
The babysitter refuse to pay taxes on her earning, she have parked the children in their beds where they learn the art of conversation from the TV.
The parents are having fun while the children are safe in the dream shatter of the right brain telling midnight stories of the day’s doings and the babysitter has invited her boy friend over for the night and he will eat you out of house and home while in their dream the children are buring the house down.
When the parents dance the night away in the night club the children are dreaming of the violent of the babysitter who eat the last of the pot roast left over from dinner.
When the parents refuse to come home the babysitter is contemplating the meaning of death and dying in the burning house.
The babysitter will grow up to become a parent and she will hire a babysitter when she go out to dance the night away as her children burn the house down.
poem by David E. Patton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Holiday
I love the cheery bustle
Of children round the house,
The tidy maids a-hustle,
The chatter of my spouse;
The laughter and the singing,
The joy on every face:
With frequent laughter ringing,
O, Home's a happy place!
Aye, Home's a bit of heaven;
I love it every day;
My line-up of eleven
Combine to make it gay;
Yet when in June they're leaving
For Sandport by the sea,
By rights I should be grieving,
But gosh! I just fell free.
I'm left with parting kisses,
The guardian of the house;
The romp, it's true, one misses,
I'm quiet as a mouse.
In carpet slippers stealing
From room to room alone
I get the strangest feeling
The place is all my own.
It seems to nestle near me,
It whispers in my ear;
My books and pictures cheer me,
Hearth never was so dear.
In peace profound I lap me,
I take no stock of time,
And from the dreams that hap me,
I make (like this) a rhyme.
Oh, I'm ashamed of saying
(And think it's mean of me),
That when the kids are staying
At Sandspot on the sea,
And I evoke them clearly
Disporting in the spray,
I love them still more dearly
Because . . . they're far away.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The cost of acquiring new customers and maintaining those relationships in an online environment versus bricks and mortar is significant.
quote by Stephen Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Of Love
Make your home
Like heaven above
That's a house full of
Laughter and love
Where everyone can
Stay with pleasure
And collect for them
The hours of leisure
And decorate it
With joys and smiles
That help to spread
Happiness for miles
And bring in peace
And invite it to stay
So everyone can
With fain say
This is my home
Like heaven above
Because it is filled
With laughter and love.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think your life is governed not by the bricks or mortar around you, it's governed by who holds your hand and who spits in your eye.
quote by David McCallum
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fences
Fences are built from bricks and mortar,
Then wood is added to the list of torture.
Fenced in houses are loving and breezed,
By the winds, also the very gales that are pleased.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sawn in Half
Her languid, prime speech drawls
‘tells it like it is’ tongue
skims stones, creates ripples
ushers vowels
past her white overbite_
I catch every exhaled pebble
from her gravelly voice
stoned on cigarettes and cider.
Her bricks and mortar vernacular
graduate to polysyllabic
mortar board remarks.
I am magically sawn_
in half by the me
drawn to her accomplished artistry,
the poet to the page,
and my jaw agape
at her sandy hair framing cheeky smirk
finding gems in conversational trivia
stoking the embers, stirring the pot
with ‘school of hard knocks’ confidence.
Straight Pathway
My opening of the doors created folly,
Abhor those who sit and wait, with ice.
The life of plenty condemns nobody,
Letting fences be built for the gardens.
Return to the grass, if a straight course
Means a pathway to the enemy.
Buildings of bricks and mortar
Shall make offerings to Nature.
My opening of the door to Nature
Is like that of the entrance to Time.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Spill Blood
(what is the law? )
(what is the law? )
Animals came from miles around
So tired of walking so close toe the ground
They needed a chance, thats what they said
Life is better walking on two legs
But they were in for a big surprise
cause they didnt know the law!
Chorus
(what is the law)
No spill blood
What is the law
(no spill blood)
(who makes the rules)
Someone else
Who makes the rules
(someone else)
The rules are written in the stone
Break the rules and you get no bones
All you get is ridicule, laughter
And a trip to the house of pain!
Chorus (in reverse order)
We walk on two legs not on four
To walk on four legs breaks the law
What happens when we break the law?
What happens when the rules arent fair?
We all know here we go from there
To the house of pain!
To the house of pain!
(what is the law)
What is the law
(who makes the rules)
Who makes the rules
We walk on two legs not on four
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
To the house of pain
(no spill blood)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything Ages
Everything ages
Even bricks and mortar-
I was here at the beginning of this neighborhood thirty years ago
When all was fresh and new-
Now there is rust and chipped paint
On buildings that sag in tiredness-
It is not only the people
But the things of the world
Which age and die-
Time will take all
And these stones too will not be here one day.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Make This House A Home
Well theres something in us living
Theres something you should know
There was a time for us to fall
Now its time to grow
But you know its not the way
That I intended it to be
Crossing hearts and killing souls
And trying to get down to whats real
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
All I needed was your hand to hold
I spent so much time alone
I needed your direction
But we re-aligned my broken bones
Well theyre running from a lifeless state
Somehow we lost our hold
All we have with us is change
Left over from what started out as gold
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
Im holding you responsible for every word I say
If you feel the brokenness
Wont you try and look the other way
I never meant to be so low
I only wanted you to see
That time was healing someone else
But its tearing apart the very heart of me
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
So make this house a home
Make this house a home
Make this house a home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Orange Rose
A yellow rose struggles to breathe
Among high weeds and dry earth
A broken board bangs against the house
Dirt and debris lays on a broken tile
The house shudders, remembers its old worth
It's hard to remember the friendly smile
The children's laughter, the family love
This was the cherished dream, the ideal
Home Sweet Home shone from above
Roses bloomed in a manicured garden
New again time becomes a wheel
In the yard a new rose blooms
Orange and violent consuming the weeds
It spreads to the house like a clinging vine
Leaving black leaves in its wake
Seeing its destruction as a new seed
poem by Patricia Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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