He moistens the lips, but leaves the palate dry. [Trifling assistance, of little or no use. ]
Related quotes
He moistens the lips, but leaves the palate dry.
Sitting Idle With Others
I will 'assist' you.
And commit myself,
To assisting you.
However...
If you are here to observe my assistance.
As if this is your priority.
With complaints as to what I do.
And how what I do gets done.
One of us is analyzing an assistance being made.
And guess which one will eventually become disappointed?
When that committment of an assistance leaves.
And guess who will be left sitting idle with others in discussion,
As to who does not fulfill obligations.
With skills of blaming used.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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September, 1918
This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
Some day there will be no war,
Then I shall take out this afternoon
And turn it in my fingers,
And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
To-day I can only gather it
And put it into my lunch-box,
For I have time for nothing
But the endeavour to balance myself
Upon a broken world.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Last Supper
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
And the mouth so mocking gay,
A wanton you to the finger-tips,
Who break men's hearts in play;
A thing of dust I have striven for,
Honour and manhood given for,
Headlong to ruin driven for,
And this is the last, you say. . . .
Drinking your wine with dainty sips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
ong have you held your sway;
I have laughed at your merry quips -
Now is my time to pay.
What we sow we must reap again;
When we laugh we must weep again;
So to-night we will sleep again,
Nor wake until Judgement Day. . . .
'Tis a poisoned wine that your palate lips,
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips.
Marie Vaux of the Painted Lips,
Down on your knees and pray;
Pray your last ere the moment slips,
Pray ere the dark and the terror grips,
And the bright world fades away.
Pray for the peace and the rest of us:
Here comes the Shape in quest of us,
Now we must go away. . . .
You and I in the grave's eclipse,
Marie Vaux of the painted Lips.
poem by Robert William Service
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After all, it is not where one washes one's neck that counts but where one moistens one's throat.
quote by Djuna Barnes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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ecstatic dawn
moistens the glowing meadows
eye feasts
haiku by Indira Babbellapati
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After September 11th, nations from across the globe offered their generous assistance to the people of New York. And whenever our friends around the world need our assistance, New York is there.
quote by George E. Pataki
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe our foreign assistance should be scrutinized, should be debated, and that we should strike the right balance, but in all cases the foreign assistance that we provide around the world should be used to further our national security interests.
quote by John Sununu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Kiss
Exiled on the isle of passion and shackled in the prison of craving.
Bottled up emotion - screaming and shouting and searching for an escape.
Like a dehydrated deer tracking water -Like a desert hunting an oasis.
Deluge of flames enrapture my being with the fervor of a thousand fire.
Tranquillized by cloud of restraint yet burning with the inferno of love.
Raining from the sky of my being- cascading from my connubial essence.
Sunshine from the hub of my heart, moistens my lips in the dew of desire.
Pregnant with the passion of the sun and birthing the beauty of a rose.
Visuality captures my appetite like predator pouncing on prey.
Tenderly touching - meticulously massage like a cool breeze in summer.
Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bone, lips of my lips, tongue of my tongue.
Giving and receiving, urging and merging, tightening and heightening.
Sugar cane and honey splashed together-overflowing into a river of release.
Floating on ecstasy, as time stands still to salute the creation of art.
poem by Howard Simon
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We do not have a budget support. We are now fully independent in terms of requirements, but we still have a need for development assistance separate from the budget. So all the economic aid we receive is for development assistance.
quote by Jose Ramos Horta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We do foreign assistance for altruistic reasons, certainly for humanitarian reasons, of course. But the main reason we do foreign assistance is we do it in the American national interest.
quote by Roger Wicker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cicero: The Budget should be balanced, the Treasury should be refilled, public debt should be reduced, the arrogance of officialdom should be tempered and controlled, and the assistance to foreign lands should be curtailed, lest Rome will become bankrupt. People must again learn to work instead of living on public assistance.
line from A Pillar of Iron, script by Taylor Caldwell (1965)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bunch Of Triolets
You like the trifling triolet:
Well, here are three or four.
Unless your likings I forget,
You like the trifling triolet.
Against my conscience I abet
A taste which I deplore;
You like the trifling triolet:
Well, here are three or four.
Have you ever met with a pretty girl
Walking along the street,
With a nice new dress and her hair in curl?
Have you ever met with a pretty girl,
When her hat blew off and the wind with a whirl
Wafted it right to your feet?
Have you ever met with a pretty girl
Walking along the street?
I ran into a lady's arms,
Turning a corner yesterday.
To my confusion, her alarms,
I ran into a lady's arms.
So close a vision of her charms
Left me without a word to say.
I ran into a lady's arms,
Turning a corner yesterday.
How many maids you love,
How many maids love you!
Your conscious blushes prove
How many maids you love.
Each trusts you like a dove,
But would she, if she knew
How many maids you love,
How many maids love you?
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Nobody leaves a hotel without getting a full measure of three months of rental assistance. So no one has been evicted - no one who's eligible has been evicted from a hotel without getting a significant amount of money to find - to pay for their rent.
quote by Michael Chertoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Experience
THE world was made when a man was born,
He must taste for himself the forbidden springs;
He can never take warning from old-fashion'd things;
He must fight as a boy, he must drink as a youth,
Of the friend of his soul; he must laugh to scorn
The hints of deceit in a woman's eyes--
They are clear as the wells of Paradise.
And so he goes on till the world grows old,
Till his toung has grown cautious, his heart has grown cold,
Till the smile leaves his mouth, till the ring leaves his laugh,
And he shirks the bright headache you ask him to quaff.
He grows formal with men, and with women polite,
And distrustful of both when they're out of his sight.
Then he eats for his palate and drinks for his head,
And loves for his pleasure,--and 'tis time he was dead.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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I Can't Kiss You
I can't kiss you as one drop
my lips are a boat that loves to wave your ocean
I can't kiss you as one match
my lips are the matchbox that lights your lips' fire
I can't kiss you as one moment
my lips are the clock that loses its hours
I can't kiss you as one lips' graze
my lips like to write long carmine stories
I can't kiss you right now
my lips need a romantic cosiness
I wouldn't like just to kiss you
my lips would like to pad into your lips' flower
(eternity)
poem by Ata Augustyn
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A Passage
THE world was made when a man was born;
He must taste for himself the forbidden springs,
He can never take warning from old-fashioned things;
He must fight as a boy, he must drink as a youth,
He must kiss, he must love, he must swear to the truth
Of the friend of his soul, he must laugh to scorn
The hint of deceit in a woman's eyes
That are clear as the wells of Paradise.
And so he goes on, till the world grows old,
Till his tongue has grown cautious, his heart, has grown cold,
Till the smile leaves his mouth, and the ring leaves his laugh,
And he shirks the bright headache you ask him to quaff;
He grows formal with men, and with women polite,
And distrustful of both when they're out of his sight;
Then he eats for his palate, and drinks for his head,
And loves for his pleasure,—and 'tis time he was dead!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Voodooded Lips
VOODOODED LIPS
esspeecee …18.06.09.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll reflect you lips’ eloquence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll blush-in by your lips’ glittrence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll unfold your lips’ innocence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll savor to the lees your lips’ elegance.
In the mirror of silence
I get psychic catharsis
In our lip lock reminiscences.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll siphon in your lips’ effulgence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll grope your lips
In abyssal absence.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will coalesce
In your lips’ effervescence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll be vortexed by
Lips’ psychedelic resonance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll passionately hug
With sensuous confluence.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll smear lips by
Your lips’ fragrance.
In the mirror of silence
We’ll tie-up our lips
In Monalisian resemblance.
In the mirror of silence
I’ll fresco my lips
From your lips’ brilliance.
In the mirror of silence
My lips will stain
By your lips’ every essence.
I’m voodooded by:
In the mirror of silence,
Your lips’ excellence,
And deluxe luminance.
Copyright reserved by the Author
.
poem by Dr. Sakti P. Chakravorty
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We The Busy Ones
we proclaim
we are the busy ones
they call us the
bees
we work all day
extending our arms and legs
to the night
we work till dawn
we too make love
we compose ourselves
arrange our faces
like flowers and leaves
and twigs
we work and work
till we find that
rest....
don't think of death
go find another date
gather the ripe dates
in the desert
have a big plate
savor the taste in your palate.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Autumn Leaves
The falling leaves.... pass by my window
The autumn leaves...of red and gold
I see your lips...your summer kisses
The sunburned hands...I used to know
Ummm...since you went away
The days grow long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
Ooooh, but I'll miss you most of all
My darling.... when autumn leaves...
start to fall
Ooooh...... I said I miss you most of all
My darling....when autumn leaves
start to fall............
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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