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Swearing is like any other music... If it is not done well, if it is not done with a fine and discriminating art, and vitalized with gracious and heartborn feeling, it lacks beauty, it lacks charm, it lacks expression, it lacks nobleness, it lacks majesty...
David Gridley in Indiantown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In long experience I find that a man who trusts nobody is apt to be the kind of man nobody trusts.
quote by Harold MacMillan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man who trusts nobody is apt to be the kind of man nobody trusts.
quote by Harold MacMillan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The husband who lacks affection is like a house that lacks a roof.
Sincerity outweighs.
Intelligence and beauty
Will fail a wife to hold her man
If she lacks sincerity.
If she lacks fidelity
Even a concubine will lose her man.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just because a man lacks the use of his eyes doesn't mean he lacks vision.
quote by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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About The Good Quality
He is sincere who
Is calculative or
Lacks faith in himself.
He is faithful who
Is purposeful or
Lacks faith in himself.
Good quality
Is a strategy
Or from weakness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hidden Sin
O God, You know my foolishness
And my sins are not hidden from You!
The Sun of Righteousness shall arise
To help me to transform and renew.
Our Lord is good and knows who trusts Him
He wants us to be glad and rejoice in our giving.
My Soul trusts the shadow of His wings
As my refuge remains His forgiving.
God's commandments aren't that hard or burdensome
And they deliver us from Satin's claws.
His merciful love is greatest toward us
As we triumph by Divine principles and laws.
She Who Lacks His Touch
She who lacks his touch
She with lack of trust
Only to remain in dust
She who wants no luck
What she would give for lust
She with lack of trust
Her eyes have bled with time
Her life not to remain in line
What she would give for lust
She who lacks his trust
Her image has began to change
Her reflection is not the same
Her grip tightens on the brush
She with lack of trust
This anger can not remain
Something has to change
She who lacks his trust
What she will do for lust
The knife once used for peeling
Now lay under her pillow
Her presence will now be felt
She who lacks his trust
The time has come
The final dance begun
She gets his final touch
What she has done for lust
poem by Morgan Bodden
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Honesty and Truth
Through the windows of my soul I see
Divisibility of Truth
Two Entities that dwell within
Each A partnered substitute
The Heart is ruled by Emotive Truth and
Trusts. In Honesty
But The Mind Accepts. Whats only Fact
And Trusts. Logically
Though I believe. What I Believe
With All I am Inside
But My Honest Truth lives in My Heart
The Veritable Truth. In My Mind!
poem by Jodie Mayhew
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A writer
Out of what, does a writer write?
Out of hatred, out of denial,
Out of failure, out of perversion,
Out of insult or out of neglect.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger, anguish and agony.
To bend his feelings in catharsis.
From what does he write?
From borrowings, being inspired,
Or pouring old wine into a new bottle.
For what purpose does he write?
For an applause, to show his skills
And to earn a place and money.
Why at all must he write?
For an idler, what else can he do?
What lacks in one’s writing?
His concern for you lacks.
Your vow to pursue it lacks.
He writes and forgets
You read and forget.
When you are gone and when he is gone
The relevance to his writings is gone.
Bubbles are formed and burst.
12.04.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tri-women
Oorvasy is tempting;
Janaky lacks pleasing;
Sakuntala is the both.
Oorvasi lacks love;
Janaky lacks lust;
Sakuntala has the both.
Of oorvasi you’re tired;
Of janaky you’re bored;
Of sakuntala you’re stirred.
You’re mad of oorvasi;
You’re proud of janaky;
You’re glad of sakuntala.
Oorvasi is a waterfall;
Janaky is a pond;
Sakuntala is a river.
Flirt with Oorvasi,
Consort with Janaky,
If not done with Sakuntala
Girls, Mould as Sakuntala
26.04.2002, pakd
[Urvasi is Devas’ beauty, Seetha is virtuous queen and Sakuntal is king’s lovely wom
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bite The Hand That Bleeds
I watch you tap for blood in my veins
My heart you feed on to keep you sustained
A parasite that leaves me cold and drained
I'm in shock, and you leave me paralyzed
And the saddest part I realize
The absence of truth behind your eyes
I feel you tapping my soul from my vein!
I feel you tapping again on my vein!
I feel my life slipping away!
One more drop of blood I spill
One more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
I see you have two faces turning
Changing face to keep me guessing
You have mastered the art of deceiving
Now I know no one trusts you
And to think, not even you do
And I know you salted my wounds
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know no one trusts you!
Now I know you salted my wounds!
One more drop of blood I spill
Noe more drop you take
One more drop and I will spite
And bite the hand that bleeds
Bite the hand that bleeds you ...
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Non-Resistance
PERHAPS too far in these considerate days
Has patience carried her submissive ways;
Wisdom has taught us to be calm and meek,
To take one blow, and turn the other cheek;
It is not written what a man shall do,
If the rude caitiff smite the other too!
Land of our fathers, in thine hour of need
God help thee, guarded by the passive creed!
As the lone pilgrim trusts to beads and cowl,
When through the forest rings the gray wolf's howl;
As the deep galleon trusts her gilded prow
When the black corsair slants athwart her bow;
As the poor pheasant, with his peaceful mien,
Trusts to his feathers, shining golden-green,
When the dark plumage with the crimson beak
Has rustled shadowy from its splintered peak,--
So trust thy friends, whose babbling tongues would charm
The lifted sabre from thy foeman's arm,
Thy torches ready for the answering peal
From bellowing fort and thunder-freighted keel!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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When a man lacks mental balance in pneumonia he is said to be delirious. When he lacks mental balance without the pneumonia, he is pronounced insane by all smart doctors.
quote by Martin H. Fischer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Compulsive Obsession
The miser sits and counts his gold
well wrapped in rags against the cold.
He has no fire he lacks the sense
He cannot bear to spend his pence.
He dines upon stale bread and cheese
sometimes porridge made from peas
to satisfy his appetite.
His bags of coin his one delight.
He has no friends he trusts no man
for they will rob him if they can.
He lives in abject poverty
to spend a coin is misery.
I do not envy him his gold
a bitter man who’s heart is cold.
I share what little comes my way
I cannot make my few pence stay.
But count my self a wealthy man
The miser save all that he can
and lives alone in misery.
I think that he should envy me.
8-Jun-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hymn 4 part 2
The inward witness to Christianity.
1 Jn. 5:10.
Questions and doubts be heard no more,
Let Christ and joy be all our theme;
His Spirit seals his gospel sure,
To every soul that trusts in him.
Jesus, thy witness speaks within;
The mercy which thy words reveal
Refines the heart from sense and sin,
And stamps its own celestial seal.
'Tis God's inimitable hand
That molds and forms the heart anew;
Blasphemers can no more withstand,
But bow, and own thy doctrine true.
The guilty wretch that trusts thy blood
Finds peace and pardon at the cross;
The sinful soul, averse to God,
Believes and loves his Maker's laws.
Learning and wit may cease their strife,
When miracles with glory shine;
The voice that calls the dead to life
Must be almighty and divine.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The innkeeper trusts his guests like he is himself.