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Pride in boasting of family antiquity, makes duration stand for merit.
quote by John Zimmerman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love makes a subtle man out of a crude one, it gives eloquence to the mute, it gives courage the cowardly and makes the idle quick and sharp.
Granny Them Words
Make hay while the sun shines
Don’t be idle don’t waste time
Think before you talk
You must creep before you walk
Idle hands find idle things to do
Do unto others as you want done unto you
Short cut leads to short life
Every man needs a house for his wife
Go to school get an education
For the world is full of corruption
Birds of a feather flock together
Respect your mother and father
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise
Like a song from a flock of birds
These where Granny Theme Words
This poem is dedicated to my deceased grandmother Maude Patterson may she rest in peace.
poem by Anthony Yorke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slave
About the boasts we tame a few,
Boasting corrupts us like devastation.
Visible pages with inscriptions describe
The endings and derivations that matter.
My owners boast for my slavery to be redressed,
Boosting this commands freedom, joy and hope.
We are slaves, they are masters,
Fixing this assertion, blowing a drama,
Finding some drama is like some illustration.
The boasting of liberty is mine now,
My slavery adjusted the peace.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wind bell
It's quite sad
I observed,
When there's wind
You make a melancholy note
Like an infant who cries for milk.
Otherwise very quiet as a hermit.
I too silent sometimes chum!
When I am happy.
But when the World goes upside down
My behavior is ridiculous like a clown.
* [ Boasting war makes a brave soldier into a hopeless lunatic.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Idle in June
She dares not let the world hear her speak,
She's getting thin and looking meek,
A grey hair is splitting in her widows peak
She lays idle in the month of June.
Her hands are cracked and stained from mud,
although she bathes in lathered suds
There's a little of me inside her blood
She lays idle in the month of June
She carries child at her old age,
She's stuck inside her fleshy cage,
Her father birthed her insidious rage
She lays idle in the month of June.
They locked her in a cell up high,
The crime of seeking suicide
Some women they are born only to die,
She lays idle in the month of June.
One day, I know, I'll see her soon,
How I loathe the month of June,
We'll met again come the next new moon,
I won't forget her, idle in the month of June.
poem by H.J. Shreeve
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Difference Does It Make ?
All men have secrets and here is mine
So let it be known
We have been through hell and high tide
I can surely rely on you ...
And yet you start to recoil
Heavy words are so lightly thrown
But still i'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you
So, what difference does it make ?
So, what difference does it make ?
It makes none
But now you have gone
And you must be looking very old tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and i lied, and why ?
Because you asked me to !
But now you make me feel so ashamed
Because i've only got two hands
Well, i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
So, what difference does it make ?
Oh, what difference does it make ?
Oh, it makes none
But now you have gone
And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight
Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole, and then i lied
Just because you asked me to
But now you know the truth about me
You won't see me anymore
Well, i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
But no more apologies
No more apology
Oh, i'm too tired
I'm so very tired
And i'm feeling very sick and ill today
But i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
Oh, my sacred one ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beside The Idle Summer Sea
Beside the idle summer sea,
And in the vacant summer days,
Light Love came fluting down the ways,
Where you were loitering with me.
Who have not welcomed even as we,
That jocund minstrel and his lays
Beside the idle summer sea
And in the vacant summer days?
We listened, we were fancy-free;
And lo! in terror and amaze
We stood alone – alone and gaze
With an implacable memory
Beside the idle summer sea.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When the idle poor become the idle rich, you'll never know just who is who, or which is which.
quote by E.Y. Harburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Idle Wind
The idle wind blows all the day.
I wish it blew my care away.
The idle wind blows all day long
And weaves a burden to my song
Upon the melancholy flight
Of youth and beauty and delight.
The idle wind blows all the day.
I wish it blew my care away.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Difference Does It Make?
All men have secrets and here is mine
So let it be known
We have been through hell and high tide, I can surely rely on you?
And yet you start to recoil, heavy words are so lightly thrown
But still Id leap in front of a flying bullet for you
So, what difference does it make?
So, what difference does it make?
It makes none but you have gone
And you must be looking very old tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and I lied, and why? because you asked me to!
But now you make feel so ashamed because Ive only got two hands well, Im still fond of you
So, what difference does it make?
It makes none but you have gone and your prejudice wont keep you warm tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and I lied, and why? just because you asked me to! but you know the truth about me you wont see me anymore, Im still fond of you
So, no more apologies no more apologies Im too tired Im too sick and tired and Im feeling very sick and ill today
But Im still fond of you
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Refuse To Be The One With That Title
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Looking ahead and keeping one's faith,
With a hold that shows one bridled.
Are the ones who never wait too late...
Until time from them has escaped.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be...idle.
As they watch time from them fly right by...
While trying to catch up with slow strides.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.
Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be those idle.
While trying to catch up with slow strides,
As they watch time from them fly right by.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
And...
Don't procrastinate,
To find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one...
With that title.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misfortune That
Misfortune that
I am unable to know
My mistakes and faults
And you kept me here
In this cage as a
Life prisoner and
Kept me idle.
Misfortune that
Here I am
And with my consent
And I know not
When to go
And where and you
Kept me idle.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.
Jerome K. Jerome in Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow (1886)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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DEPRESSION Makes me.......
Depression makes me feel pain
Depression makes me stupid
Depression makes me feel low
Depression makes me mad
Depression makes me sad
Depression makes me forget world
Depression makes me tensed
Depression makes me lose self control
Depression makes me hate everyone
Depression makes me think over and over
Depression makes me feel lonely
Depression makes me think wild
Depression makes me worthless
Depression makes me sick
What does Depression give me?
When it runs high…
It will make me Die - REST IN PEACE…
poem by Annie Juliet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Depression Makes Me
depression makes me feel pain
depression makes me stupid
depression makes me feel low
depression makes me mad
depression makes me sad
depression makes me forget the world
depression makes me tensed
depression makes me lose self control
depression makes me hate everyone
depression makes me think over and over
depression makes me feel lonely
depression makes me think wild
depression makes me worthless
depression makes me sick
what does depression give me?
when it runs high…
it will make me die - rest in peace…
poem by Tashi Coote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time has laid its healing hand upon the wound when we can look back at the the pain we once fainted under, and no bitterness or despair arises in our heart.
Jerome K. Jerome in Idle thought of an Idle Fellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idle Lives Live to Wander
Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Reset to ponder,
Why they choose fits to drift...
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Why,
There are others who believe...
They live just to be on bended knees.
Begging freely from a 'Deity'.
In a pleading to make easier,
A way of life they accept to breathe.
Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Reset to ponder,
Why they choose fits to drift...
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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