Although there exist many thousands of subjects for elegant conversation, there are persons who cannot meet a cripple without talking about feet.
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Although there exist many thousand subjects for elegant conversation, there are persons who cannot meet a cripple without talking about feet.
quote by Ernest Bramah
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To make good conversation there are a thousand subjects, but there are still those who cannot meet a cripple without talking about feet.
Cripple Creek
1: well I married a wife in the month of june,
Married her up by the light of the moon.
We live down on cripple creek.
Weve been there about a week.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
2: now cripple creek girls about half-grown,
Jump on a man like a dog on a bone.
Roll my pants up to my knees,
Cross on cripple creek a-when I please.
Chorus: Im a-goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
Goin down to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Goin down to cripple creek to have some fun.
3: well Im goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run.
Im a-goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
Chorus: Im a-goin to cripple creek, Im goin on a run,
Goin to cripple creek to have some fun.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In That Foreign Land
amidst the crowd
there are only two of you
speaking
your own language and
you walk with them
and your feet are tired
and there is no
talking, as though
both of you are stranded
in an island
where monkeys and birds
only exist
and then you dream of home
and you even promise
that your enemies are
much better than them
because at least
you can do a lot of
talking and shouting
and quarreling and that
in such actions, at least,
you have a world of sounds
that you can
take with you and understand
and preoccupy with
when the night comes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence is one of the great arts of conversation, as allowed by Cicero himself, who says, 'there is not only an art, but an eloquence in it.' A well bred woman may easily and effectually promote the most useful and elegant conversation without speaking a word. The modes of speech are scarcely more variable than the modes of silence.
Silence is one of the great arts of conversation, as allowed by Cicero himself, who says, "there is not only an art, but an eloquence in it." A well bred woman may easily and effectually promote the most useful and elegant conversation without speaking a word. The modes of speech are scarcely more variable than the modes of silence.
That's What Happens When Truth Is Spoken
Truth hurts!
That's why the presence of it,
Is scandalized, falsified, denied and fantasized.
Criticized and spat upon and treated like crap!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
Of course I am 'still' talking about truth.
And that's the tragedy of it!
Even when it is mentioned people want to stop it.
They want to disrupt it with a show of disrespect.
To prove they can throw it indignities.
And to leave it as if that is accepted.
Well...
I say NO to that!
It is NOT accepted!
'You are 'still' talking about truth...
Right?
I just want this conversation to maintain its focus.'
You aren't paying me any attention are you?
That's what happens when truth is spoken!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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God's Tongue
god,
your tongue
are between
the subjects
around me
each face
your spellbinding
vocabulary
each action
mine included
your verb too
how you
have spoken
to me through
that man
who runs away
with my money
not to do similar act
soon too
you will speak
to him
through another man
who would run
away with his money
my IQ awakens me
to your tongue
in the shape
of all your subjects
speaking to me
through every act
mine, theirs
how wrong i have
been all these years
to think
that you have neglected me
there your tongue
in all your subjects
talking to me
with facts, figures, deeds
and misdeeds
each minute of the day
a mindful chatterbox
you are
but i like you
the challenge
and mysteries
you throw to me
to find out who you actually are
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ant
A sixty feet long ant
With a hat on its head,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
An ant pulling a cart
Full of penguins and ducks
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
An ant speaking French,
Speaking Latin and Javanese,
That doesn’t exist, that doesn’t exist.
Hey! Why not?
poem by Robert Desnos from Storysongs (Chantefables) (1945), translated by Dan CostinaÅŸ
Submitted by Dan CostinaÅŸ
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Token Cripple
Look there's the token cripple
To his wheelchair tie a balloon
Don't speak or cause a ripple
As he takes off for the moon.
Never approach the disabled
Though they're human or so it's fabled.
Look there's the token paraplegic
Address him through his carer
Save face and be strategic
A megaphone would be fairer
Never assume your ignorance shows
Don't prove your a fool
He already knows.
Look there's the token cripple
In a pub garden with friends, and talking!
You mouth to him 'What's your tipple'
And crack a joke about Stephen Hawking.
How much more cerebral he'd be
If like you he could master walking
- Away.
poem by Kevin East
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Hallowed Ground
Everybodys intent on killing someone
The streets are closed and theres a kid on the run
The bullets scream out from gun to gun
Everybodys intent on being someone
The cold and darkness of a criminal dawn
Wrapped in blankets gotta keep ourselves warm
A child in the arms of a teenage mum
Who will be there, who will be the next victim
Of the criminal dawn?
Old friends meet on the edge of town
Sharing conversation, hoping things will soon get better
While the children meet, got the world at their feet
Not knowing whats around the corner
Are we living for an uncertain future?
Down on the corner sits a broken man
Lives by the bottle, swears never again
Lost his money on the dogs and gin
Now he looks for his supper in a garbage can
The kids hang around by the old schoolground
Right by the river where the body was found
Throwing stones on hallowed ground
Who will be there, who will be the next victim
Of the criminal dawn?
Old friends meet on the edge of town
Sharing conversation, hoping things will soon get better
While the children meet, got the world at their feet
Not knowing whats around the corner
Are we living for an uncertain future?
In the cold and darkness of a criminal dawn
Wrapped in blankets gotta keep ourselves warm
A child in the arms of a teenage mum
Who will be there, who will be the last victim
Of the criminal dawn?
Old friends meet on the edge of town
Sharing conversation, hoping things will soon get better
While the children meet, got the world at their feet
Not knowing whats around the corner
Are we living for an uncertain future?
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Talk About Love
Talking real world, all that pain
Try to fix it still comes out the same
Get down to rosies
Wont you pull that plug
Last week
Someone made a mess of that rug
Talking big house way up town
One day one day
Ill put the money down
All that baby talk its for the birds
Lets make some honey
Honey in so many words
Oh no
Dont want a serious conversation
I just want to get you serious
Serious
I want to talk about love
You talk about the weather
Rain or snow
Talking cold wind
The way its going to blow
Talking good times night and day
Talk talk a stronger man
Could lose his way
Aphrodite now theres a girl
Good good loving
She spreads around the world
Forget your dancing all that boogaloo
Drag that purse over here
I got to talk to you
Oh no
Dont want a serious conversation
I just want to get you serious
Serious
I want to talk about love
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Treasure for joy
Need two persons,
Mummy and daddy,
the result is me;
Need two persons,
My grandparents,
to take care of me;
Need two persons,
Child specialist and family physician,
to look after my health;
Need two persons,
My loving teachers,
to teach me manners;
Need two persons,
My sincere friends,
for play and pastime;
Time has come,
A good job has come,
A happy companion has come;
A beautiful wife to share my life,
We have two children, a girl and boy,
They are our treasure for joy.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In addition, we were unable to meet openly to discuss the progress of the book, for we were both on the list of persons banned from communicating with other banned persons.
quote by Ruth First
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The dialogue between client and architect is about as intimate as any conversation you can have, because when you're talking about building a house, you're talking about dreams.
quote by Robert A. M. Stern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wise Advice
If persons do not want to change for good,
Advise them if you can, sometimes;
If persons are recalcitrant in mood,
Try advising them in some better climes!
If persons do not listen or pay heed,
Ignore their misdemeanor, if you can;
If persons appear to be ‘blind’ indeed,
Just watch them from a farther distance, man.
If persons are too adamant to change,
Leave them to change the hard way, if they must;
If persons are in ‘impossible’ range,
Leave them to God or let them bite the dust!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-8-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Andrew Jones
I hate that Andrew Jones; he'll breed
His children up to waste and pillage.
I wish the press-gang or the drum
With its tantara sound would come,
And sweep him from the village!
I said not this, because he loves
Through the long day to swear and tipple;
But for the poor dear sake of one
To whom a foul deed he had done,
A friendless man, a travelling cripple!
For this poor crawling helpless wretch,
Some horseman who was passing by,
A penny on the ground had thrown;
But the poor cripple was alone
And could not stoop--no help was nigh.
Inch-thick the dust lay on the ground
For it had long been droughty weather;
So with his staff the cripple wrought
Among the dust till he had brought
The half-pennies together.
It chanced that Andrew passed that way
Just at the time; and there he found
The cripple in the mid-day heat
Standing alone, and at his feet
He saw the penny on the ground.
He stopped and took the penny up:
And when the cripple nearer drew,
Quoth Andrew, "Under half-a-crown,
What a man finds is all his own,
And so, my Friend, good-day to you."
And 'hence' I said, that Andrew's boys
Will all be trained to waste and pillage;
And wished the press-gang, or the drum
With its tantara sound, would come
And sweep him from the village.
poem by William Wordsworth
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The honest liar
1. I have to tell you that
In the last conversation we had
All I told you were lies
And with all honesty now
I am telling you
That I am a liar.
2. When you asked me
Whether I am dying
I told you I am not
But I have only
A month to live
That is the truth
But look
I am not responsible for you
I am the one
That is dying here.
It is not you.
3. When we speak
I do not demand that
You tell me the truth
We are talking
Because we are here
What you say to me
Is none of my business
To require that you tell
Me the truth
Is in fact, an overburden
Our agreement is
Simple enough
That we just talk
It is nothing more
But a contract of presence
a conversation.
4. In fact what you say
Is the bonus
And it does not matter
Truth or falsehood
We just talk
For a while
While I am here
I am going somewhere
I am leaving
You will be left
And you still have
All the time to contrive
The choice is yours
I have none anymore
5. so that is it
Keep on talking
As I pretend I am listening
I keep on talking too
But my mind
Forgive me
Is somewhere else
You may not understand
It at first
But you will soon
Understand
This world is not simply meant
For one, for one like me.
Or for us.
6. at this stage
Truth and falsehood
Are irrelevant,
Out there
Is beyond truth and falsehood
It is our place.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Talkin Talkin
Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
You know Im just
Talking, talking, talking, talking
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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