Let him not complain of being cheated who buys cloth by the pattern.
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He should not complain of being cheated who buys the cloth by the sample.
Widow McFarlane
I was the Widow McFarlane,
Weaver of carpets for all the village.
And I pity you still at the loom of life,
You who are singing to the shuttle
And lovingly watching the work of your hands,
If you reach the day of hate, of terrible truth.
For the cloth of life is woven, you know,
To a pattern hidden under the loom i
A pattern you never see!
And you weave high-hearted, singing, singing,
You guard the threads of love and friendship
For noble figures in gold and purple.
And long after other eyes can see
You have woven a moon-white strip of cloth,
You laugh in your strength, for Hope o'erlays it
With shapes of love and beauty.
The loom stops short! The pattern's out!
You're alone in the room! You have woven a shroud!
And hate of it lays you in it!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Anyone who buys a ticket and if they don't hear 'Roxanne' or 'Every Breath You Take', I think they feel cheated. I always do those songs but we do them differently - the possibilities are limitless.
A culprit is over taxed.
I did some fraud that came out.
I was held a culprit for it.
Then there is a surge all around
To implicate me in every deal
I bought pieces of land from some
By paying more than the market price
And sold them as a unit twice higher.
Now they complain that I’d cheated.
I did fevours to some women,
Who granted me intimacy
And exploited my weakness.
Now they complain that I’d raped.
27.12.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There's a pattern when tours start - a pattern of infighting, of making up, of breaking up, of addiction. There's a pattern of going to jail. There's a pattern of passion for music.
quote by Nikki Sixx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Buys My Thought?
Who buys my thought buys not a bottle of honey
But strands of a hopeless future bottled up.
A future that is threatened
By mortal diseases threatened
The future of the African child.
Of eyes that look out and see an endangered tomorrow threatening an already imagined better future.
Who buys my thought buys not a haven of peace and bliss
But of battling thoughts.
Thoughts of what the future would be
The tomorrow of the African child.
Who buys my thought buys a strenous desire for a better tomorrow
A better tomorrow for the African child
Who buys my thought?
poem by Mabel C. Mozie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grandma cheated whenever she could. She cheated because it was a much more scientific and surer way of winning than trusting to luck.
quote by Allan Sherman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cloth of Time
The concept of time is
Like a cloth
Waving in the wind.
The wind collides
And bounces,
Causing the cloth to sway.
We are the specks
Of dust
Nestled within
The fibers of time.
This cloth is where
We sleep and wake.
This wind is the result
Of our existence.
When the wind is still
The cloth of time
Hangs
Like a man
Whose time has run out.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Bill
Old Bill died today
He was a grumpy old sod said Mrs. Grey.
Fool thought me,
For you do not know what memory is
He was a decorated soldier who,
Courted beautiful women
Argued with royalty
And dined with the Aga khan
For Oscar Wilde and Keats was his tipple
But women cheated him
And his money cheated him.
And finally time cheated him
All gone now,
Just silence echoed by a distant memory,
Interrupted by Coronation Street, and East Enders
Is this the legacy of modern Life
For Bill, all that is left is the shell
And now that has gone.
Yes he was a grumpy old man
But Modern life too will be cheated by time
And what memories will it leave
And what will people say about you Mrs. Grey
poem by Steven Cooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who drinks at night, buys himself death, who drinks in bed, buys himself a coffin.
Come and love me,
Come and love me,
Come and love me,
Love me know that Iam unfeigned,
Either way Iam making a sway with my sorrow,
I did alot of mistake's,
Now I need to calm and understand life's concept,
Come and love me,
There is the redeemer's voice,
That I need to wake up from all my sorrow's,
Change these pattern's that I may increase skills,
Agile and deft pattern's,
It's all a pattern not worthied a Stigma.
poem by Abdul Karim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why You Cheated on Me?
Why you cheated on me
With another girl?
I feel hurt and I thought I can trust you
I have to break up with you because I saw you kissed and flirt with another girl
I just want to cry and forget you
I thought I was only one for you, but it
Turn out that someone else catch your eyes and is the one for you and
I feel so torn right now
Why you cheated on me
With another girl?
I feel hurt and I thought I can trust you
How could you do this to me
So I decide to get another boyfriend, leave you and move on
Why you cheated on me
poem by Christina Phan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You look at where you're going and where you are and it never makes sense, but then you look back at where you've been and a pattern seems to emerge. And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes you can come up with something.
quote by Robert M. Pirsig
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art is the imposing of a pattern on experience, and our aesthetic enjoyment is recognition of the pattern.
Alfred North Whitehead in Dialogues (1954)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art of Cloth
From fiber, to spinning wheel
From thread, to weaving mill
From textile, to sewing machine
Cloth is continuous ceremony
Whether knitting, whether embroider
Whether patchwork, whether bead work
The beautiful batik, the intricate songket
Cloth is concentration lesson
The strata symbol, the politeness norm
The body art, the cover part
Wedding dress, black tie suit
Cloth is human civilization
From skin, to fabric
From corset, to mini skirt
From blue jeans, to legging
Cloth is history record
Classic style, replied fashion
Color play, motif trend
Mismatch mode, big bang accessories
Cloth is social adaptation
Conservative nerd, ethnic vintage
Religion veil, punk rebel
Costume play, Gothic Lolita
Cloth is identity crisis
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who is guilty?
If one has cheated once, he is guilty.
If one has cheated you more than once
Other than you who can be guilty?
17.01.2003 Karaikudi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who is guilty?
If one has cheated once, he is guilty.
If one has cheated you more than once
Other than you who can be guilty?
17.01.2003 Karaikudi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Trip To Auschwitz
I did not complain when my toes succumbed to numbness.
I did not complain when the bitter wind threw itself against me.
I did not complain when the thick mud ruined the flares of my jeans.
In comparison to the tragedy that has befallen here.
I have nothing of value to lose.
What is value?
What can I consider a true loss?
Nothing.
In comparison to the holocaust.
poem by Rachel Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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