A pot trader whose fortunes are all invested in her clay pots isn't much of a merchant.
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What prudent merchant will hazard his fortunes in any new branch of commerce when he knows not that his plans may be rendered unlawful before they can be executed?
quote by James Madison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The oil merchant handles gold and diamonds; the grain merchant does business with silver, but the wine merchant is a poor man.
Parched tongues
Stretch out from clay pots
Moon hesitant
quote by by Indira Babbellapati (13 May 2011)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Parched tongues
Stretch out from clay pots
Moon hesitant
quote by by Indira Babbellapati (13 May 2011)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stone
The days have passed, nights are gone,
I'm still in love with a stone,
The seasons changed, the clay too came,
I still hold it with no moan,
The clay comes to me in so many shapes,
Wants me to hold it, whatever it may take,
But clay can hurt me, clay may fake,
Even if it's clay, I have a heart it can break,
The season may change,
The clay may go,
Slowing my heart beat,
All time low,
Stone is hard,
Stone is black,
Stone is emotionless,
Doesn't stab at back,
The clay, the stone, both make me die,
But if a stone does, even the clay may cry...
and I'll never ask why...
It's better to live with a stone,
not clay,
Clay is soft, but it hurts,
which is not the stone's way.....
poem by Apurva Jain
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Earning is not crux.
A writer is much an erudite.
Not all can aspire to become one.
Yet he just ekes out his living.
A trader is one anyone can become.
One can make much income.
Yet the writer will not be a trader.
He is ego hungry, not comfort hungry.
25.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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But, finally, I just realized a few years ago that this is where I belonged. I mean everything I had was invested here, emotionally and every other way. And the country had invested enormously in me.
quote by Robert MacNeil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace Proposal
Said General Clay to General Gore really must we fight this silly war
To kill and die in such a bore I quite agree said General Gore
Said General Gore to General Clay we could go to the beach today
And have some icecream on the way a grand idea said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore we'll build sand castles on the shore
Said General Gore we'll splash and play let's leave right now said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay but what if the sea's closed today
And what if the sand's been blown away the dreadful thought said General Clay
Said General Gore to General Clay I've always feared the ocean's spray
And we may drown it's true we may it chills my blood said General Clay
Said General Clay to General Gore my bathin' suit is slightly tore
We better go on with our war I quite agree said General Gore
The General Clay chanrged General Gore as bullets flew and cannons roared
And now at last there is no more of General Clay or General Gore
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Generals
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'Oh must we fight this silly war?
To kill and die is such a bore.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'We could go to the beach today
And have some ice cream on the way.'
'A grand idea,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'But what if the sea is closed today?
And what if the sand's been blown away?'
'A dreadful thought,' said General Clay.
Said General Gore to General Clay,
'I've always feared the ocean's spray,
And we may drown!' 'It's true, we may.
It chills my blood,' said General Clay.
Said General Clay to General Gore,
'My bathing suit is slightly tore.
We'd better go on with our war.'
'I quite agree,' said General Gore.
Then General Clay charged General Gore
As bullets flew and cannons roared.
And now, alas! there is no more
Of General Clay or General Gore.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Real man
I am a real man
I am real
This world where I am
Is real
In this real world
I am living
This world will not die
This world will not perish
How can I perish
I am made out of this real world
Here there is only truth
And I am truthful
As in ice there is water
In gold ornaments there is gold
In clay-pots there is clay
In iron-weapons there is iron
Look like the world I am strong.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The place is where Eden falls
in acres of land the spots self expelled
called earth called sky seek heaven above
the ways the ocean daily swims
when clay made pots reach their brims
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Mr Dream Merchant
(ross / weiss)
Hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
When I said goodbye
To my love
I didnt mean to make him cry
I didnt realise that I had love
Now I need him by my side
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
You should have told this fool
To stop it
You should have made this blind girl see
I got my pride back in my pocket
Wont you bring him back to me?
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Everything depends on you
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Cant you make him see
We need each other?
Im no good alone
I really really, really love him
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
Oh, hey, mr. dream merchant
Cant you make him see
We need each other?
Im no good alone
I really, really love him
Bring him back to me
And make my dreams come true
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The thought in my mind was that I must be a good merchant. If I were a good merchant, the rest would probably take care of itself.
quote by James Cash Penney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our vases were filled with wine
Our vases were filled with wine
As our childhoods spun on a dime
But it wasn't the abstinence of tears
That made us, into granite rocks.
It wasn't Mount Vesuvius…
That turned us each into clay-pots
So what was it, please... answer!
Well, look, look, here's the answer…
It's written on the back of that mirror!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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The Ballad of the Murdered Merchant
All stark and cold the merchant lay,
All cold and stark lay he.
And who hath killed the fair merchant?
Now tell the truth to me.
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Will never again draw breath;
Oh, I have made this fair merchant
To come unto his death.
Oh, why hast thou killed this fair merchant
Whose corpse I now behold?
And why hast caused this man to lie
In death all stark and cold?
Oh, I have killed this fair merchant
Whose kith and kin make moan,
For that he hath stolen my precious time
When he useth the telephone.
The telephone bell rang full and clear;
The receiver did I seize.
"Hello!" quoth I, and quoth a girl,
"Hello! . . . One moment, please."
I waited moments ane and twa,
And moments three and four,
And then I sought the fair merchant
And spilled his selfish gore.
That business man who scorneth to waste
His moments sae rich and fine
In calling a man to the telephone
Shall never again waste mine!
And every time a henchwoman
Shall cause me a moment's loss,
I'll forthwith fare to that office
And stab to death her boss.
Rise up! Rise up! thou blesséd knight!
And off thy bended knees!
Go forth and slay all folk who make
Us wait "One moment, please."
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Hate Trader
No way to choose pain or desire
You're [misspellled as "Your're" in CD liner notes] a slave of hate
No way to escape
Repeating brainwashes and holocausts endlessly
Hate trader is in yourself !!
No way to choose obedience or despair
You're [misspellled as "Your're" in CD liner notes] an animal of hate
No way to survive
Repeating evil genes again and again
Hate trader is in yourself !!
song performed by by Zeni Geva
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invested Heart
Invested heart.
Collect your joy,
From deposits of interests.
Your return is going to be exchanged,
With dividends unexpected!
There were some times
You knew you didn't have to be there.
But you stayed and weathered the storm!
And your reward comes,
Packaged in contentment!
You now know what pleases you...
And your sacrifices have not been in vain!
Invested heart...
Collect your joy!
Do you know of anyone else,
More deserving?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Give It a Year
Rose Byrne, Rafe Spall, Alex Macqueen, Stephen Merchant, Stephen Merchant, Minnie Driver, Jason Flemyng, Nigel Planer, Clare Higgins, Anna Faris
by Dan Mazer from I Give It a Year (2013)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prajapati or prajapita
Can potter ever slaughter?
His own work as creator
He is called father of mankind
And go on making shapes of different kind
He is also known as clay maker
Another name given for him as "prajapita"* or creator
As almighty creates entire human race
You may find with him pots of different shapes
Not all the pots survive
As not all the children live
In this world and meet the fate
Some may come early and some may come late
You will not find single person of same appearance
Even if found it will be one in million chance
You can never find identical nose and face
Where as there is limited scope to make it from base
How can we forget our own creator?
Who has given us everything as our real mentor?
If all his creations survive successfully
Then there won't be any place left to love peacefully
Many pots break during process
Many break while finding access
Yet some of them come out to find the world
Remind us of power that has been lying in his fold
Not only he is known for his creative work
But exclaimed for exemplary show pieces work
His hand moves without any measurement
To be precise and near to precision instrument
I love to praise his ability to shape
He has no thesis or roads on the map
It is purely human instinct to perfection
The art pieces speak of excellent action
* Prajapati or prajapita…. The father of human race
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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What is most important for democracy is not that great fortunes should not exist, but that great fortunes should not remain in the same hands. In that way there are rich men, but they do not form a class.
quote by Alexis de Tocqueville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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