Well, listen, you know, the Czech saying is, you know, when you are drowning you are grabbing even a little twig. That's what all Czechs were doing, grabbing for... with the hope for this little twig.
quote by Milos Forman
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Related quotes
Grabbing excrement is better than grabbing flatulence.
Enjoying the Solitude
There is so much more to life,
Than the gathering of stones to throw
Or marathon talks about blues and strife.
Do people like that...
Ever step out of their 'box' and grow?
That's just a thought I'm composing,
Not a sleep aid to see you dozing!
When I walk alone on busy streets,
I observe others qualify some
When their eyes come to meet!
Secrets that are kept
Are not as discreet as many believe.
When lives become routine...
And conversations overheard,
Are those of defeat.
I watch pigeons fly nearby.
Workers from skyscapers...
Grabbing lunch and back inside buildings
They hide.
I observe students laughing in cliques with glee,
Reminding me once how I felt that free!
And all that I desire from all that is viewed...
Is just one to understand what this man goes through.
It's not that I haven't had that in my life.
I've had wonderful friends and two ex-wives.
I've had failures and successes...
And paid my dues many times it seems.
But it is days like this I reminisce those I miss,
And wish to be held and sincerely kissed!
There is so much more to life...
Much more than quick fixes!
Or being pulled down to the ground,
By those playing games and dirty tricks.
Why folks don't get tired of that...
Sometimes makes me sick!
'eeeewww...(sic) ick! '
So I spend my time to find a twig in the park.
Enjoying the solitude as I pick the twig of its bark!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Painters
In the cave with a long-ago flare
a woman stands, her arms up. Red twig, black twig, brown twig.
A wall of leaping darkness over her.
The men are out hunting in the early light
But here in this flicker, one or two men, painting
and a woman among them.
Great living animals grow on the stone walls,
their pelts, their eyes, their sex, their hearts,
and the cave-painters touch them with life, red, brown, black,
a woman among them, painting.
poem by Muriel Rukeyser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bobbing
when the crow
lands on the twig
the weight
pushes the twig
down almost
reaching the ground
the bobbing
somewhat intrigues
the senses of the
caterpillar on the leaf
the tree frowns
upon a black alien
some leaves fall
and the grass as usual
keeps its silence
as the air passes by
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Everything Counts
The handshake
Seals a contract
From the contract
There's no turning back
The turning point
Of a career
In Korea being insincere
The holiday
Was fun packed
The contract:
Still intact
The grabbing hands
Grab all they can
All for themselves
After all
It's a competitive world
Everything counts in large amounts
The graph
On the wall
Tells the story
Of it all
Picture it now
See just how
The lies and deceit gained a little more power
Confidence taken in
By a sun tan
And a grin
The grabbing hands
Grab all they can
All for themselves
After all
It's a competitive world
Everything counts in large amounts
The grabbing hands
Grab all they can
Everything counts in large amounts
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Prey
early this morning
when i go out of my room
into a garden of trees
and stones
there with all fidelity
the spider is
spinning its web again
in the most usual
and visible manner
connecting a transparent
line from a twig
to another twig of the same
tree
soon another fly
or mosquito shall be caught
as its
unwary prey
the victim never learns
a thing.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To be ungrateful is nature
.
Seed to pod, pod to twig,
Twig to stem, stem to root
And root to earth must be grateful
For their existence. Do they?
To be ungrateful is a part of life.
08.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When love is dead
You cut a twig
The leaves wilt
And then you say
Love is dead
I plant the twig
And bury the leaves
I dream of flowers
I wait for days
A bud springs
Then love is alive
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We have to be thankful to the Czechs that they did their duty. The Czech Republic won, I can't believe it. It was a huge party with all the people here.
quote by Ruud van Nistelrooy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
His Own Small Store
he's just an old man...
working behind the counter
of his own small store
for forty years...
the young toughs
kept robbing him...
grabbing stuff off the shelves
and running...
threatening him,
and the old woman...
till they lived in fear
day and night...
then they went too far!
coming across the counter
and grabbing him by the collar:
'give me the money, old man! '
quick, and sudden,
the gunshot rings out...
the young tough falls
to the floor in a
puddle of blood...
now the old man's going to court
for excessive use of force,
and an unregistered handgun...
to the halls of justice,
sterile and cold...
the stench of dignity dying
fills the air...
and the hands on the clock
cant be turned back!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Timeless Twig
Time stands still on the twig.
The sky keeps changing colors,
Blue, dark, ivory, violet -
She grows old, I turn feeble
Ego, enmity, jealousy fade
Our stories dry up to the end!
The twig remains there,
Braving rain, bad weather,
It doesn't break, doesn't complain,
Endures mutely the passing of pain,
Standing robust under the changing sky,
Reshaped landscape, agony's cry,
With no wars to fight, no belief to defend,
It is there to see us reach the dead end!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Girl
By a cliff a golden cloud once lingered;
On his breast it slept…
From the swing, from the garden, helter-skelter,
A twig runs up to the glass.
Enormous, close, with a drop of emerald
At the tip of the cluster cast.
The garden is clouded, lost in confusion,
In staggering, teeming fuss.
The dear one, as big as the garden, a sister
By nature-a second glass!
But then this twig is brought in a tumbler
And put by the looking-glass;
Which wonders:-Who is it that blurs my vision,
From the dull, from the prison-class?
poem by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Leaf, A Twig, A Little Bird
Adam, am i,
i got this only fig
leaf to
cover my
insufficiency,
this deficiency
of the
centerfold
in me.
Adam am i,
i have this little twig,
attached to
my upper leg,
and Adam am i,
i have this little bird,
so coy like a turtle dove,
yet so fierce
and shrewd
like a fox, like a snake,
one eyed
it sees the main entrance
in that dark hole
where happiness
and pleasure
of my being
Adam of the flesh
am i
surely lies.
i throw away the fig leaf,
hold unto this twig,
and then like happiness
i fly to you like
my little shrewd bird.
catch me, if you can,
barehanded, if you will.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Hate Censorship
The orgy of entertainment
Politicians grabbing at each others tail coats
Pulling at each others sleeves
To the pauper in the street its a fight for change
A fight for what's right A fight for a more human face
In reality they pulling off the suits breaking open the pants grabbing at the dresses
Enjoying the orgy of entertainment
Only its not each other that is the prize
Its the taxi driver and the school goer the till operator and the farm worker
They are the orgy of entertainment
Day in day out the fearless battle starts and ends, talking rebuke scolding complaining its like orgiastic moans from the bedroom
Not its like
It is
It is the cavorting of a hierarchy that enjoys the spoils while they [censored] society day in and day out.
The orgy of entertainment
poem by Lindsay Maasdorp
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blue Butterfly
blue butterfly
so blue fluttering alone
hovering on my yellow green leaf
and stopping for a while
on my shiny, brown twig
tell me if i am smooth
just tell me if
if am good
then leave
blue butterfly
do not ask if my heart is real
do not ask if you can have it
i do not have a heart anymore
for you see i am just this
tree, this twig, this leaf
but blue butterfly
if ever i have a heart
please
do not ask about it
i give it to no one
i am smooth
i am too good
to be owned by
someone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sinking by holding a straw
Married for four decades, my wife and I
Live without corporal intimacy,
Both spending our time with respective sex
And yet companionship binds us.
We would speak to each other on matters.
We would nag each other on issues.
Stale to each other, we’re particular
That the other has no one to flirt with.
She’s the only guy I could depend on
And I’m the only guy she could depend on,
Siblings and offspring having drifted off.
We would reserve what we have till we die.
The future is bleak as we both grow weak.
In case of one falling as bed ridden,
The other would be useless and yet we cling
Like one grabbing a straw, while drowning.
27.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Taken For Granted
No!
I am not berries to pick,
On your visits to the forest.
Nor am I a twig to pluck.
To deleaf and strip of bark.
What I am is flesh.
Deep with emotions.
I've learned I must protect.
Especially when my feelings
Are taken for granted.
And the more I give...
The less respect I get!
No!
I am not berries to pick,
On your visits to the forest.
Nor am I a twig to pluck.
To deleaf and strip of bark.
And this is what you do.
Like many who are clueless.
About that which has life.
Or about those feelings others have too!
'Why are you so sensitive?
Oooow!
Why did you pinch me? '
Isn't that strange?
I didn't feel a thing!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Long Way Home
The other night I took the long way home
Out past the old schoolyard
Its funny how you keep it all inside
Dreams they do die hard
I closed my eyes and I could see your face
Somewhere back in time
One summer night a million miles ago
Back when you were mine
Say yes, say no, say that Im grabbing at shadows
But dont carve the words in stone
I know its late
But cant you see I was only
Taking the long way home
Sometimes its easy to get all wrapped up
In trying to be free
And all those dreams I sailed away to find
Were right in front of me
Say yes, say no, say that Im grabbing at shadows
But dont carve the words in stone
One of these days
Youre gonna see I was only
Taking the long way home
Although the letters stopped many years ago
Ill show you even time could not keep this heart
From letting go
The other night I took the long way home
Out past the old schoolyard
Its funny how you keep it all inside
Dreams they do die hard
Say yes, say no, say that Im grabbing at shadows
But dont leave me here all alone
One of these days
Youre gonna see I was only
Taking the long way home
Say yes, say no
But dont leave me here all alone
One of these days
Youre gonna see I was only
Taking the long way home
[repeat]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Counting-Out Rhyme
Silver bark of beech, and sallow
Bark of yellow birch and yellow
Twig of willow.
Stripe of green in moosewood maple,
Colour seen in leaf of apple,
Bark of popple.
Wood of popple pale as moonbeam,
Wood of oak for yoke and barn-beam,
Wood of hornbeam.
Silver bark of beech, and hollow
Stem of elder, tall and yellow
Twig of willow.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Heart Of My People
Nici invited me to go walkabout and I collected a dry twig
just perfect to make a mobile, wild flowers and Japanese
vocabulary as she teaches me; affixed the twig - draped
with flowers - to a rail in the kitchen
Ate the dish prepared by Tiaan - perfectly succulent - and
Nici’s potato mix, life perfect when I can breathe, see and
hear the beauty of my kids, appreciate the new TV system
and rejoice about the tears I have shed about a text
Delineating Africa’s problems, breaking my heart before
setting me free knowing why we cannot progress when
those in charge refuse to comprehend why the heart of
my people won’t heal
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!