Related quotes
I am an opponent of Saddam Hussein, but an opponent also, of the sanctions that have killed a million Iraqi children and an opponent of the United States' apparent desire to plunge the Middle East into a new and devastating war.
quote by George Galloway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Opponent Chosen
It has to come as a disappointment,
To carefully pick an opponent...
Who is perceived to be unaware of it.
But proves more than worthy,
For any challenge presented.
To then expose capabilities unknown.
And...
Without hesitation,
The opponent chosen...
Reveals with acknowledgement,
Of having a desire to be the one picked.
This has to come as a disappointment?
'For who?
The opponent chosen,
Who sat and waited patiently?
Or the one believing the task to be easy? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Any Other Time
I remember there was a time,
I found it easy to do things controversial.
With a doing to offend those...
Politically correct and doing their best,
To have themselves perceived...
As having proper etiquette.
Upholding standards that were then valued.
Today my maverick ways are so passe they bore.
Even today a great leader can pretend to debate,
But then again appear to snore.
While he lets his opponent win,
When any other time this same opponent...
Would find himself ignored.
'Why do you think he allowed that to happen? '
People are already aware of his skills and abilities.
I think he made it understood by all...
Just how effective his opponent will be as a leader.
'Do you think it was a new strategy? '
No, not really.
I just think the President felt he would use the time,
To get some sleep!
'Do you think the next debate will be any different? '
Well, that depends.
'On what? '
If the opponent decides to appear,
Without the need to play charades.
Or disguise in yet another masquerade.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Best is Good Enough
I quarrel not with destiny,
But make the best of everything-
The best is good enough for me.
Leave discontent alone, and she
Will shut her mouth and let you sing.
I quarrel not with destiny.
I take some things, or let 'em be-
Good gold has always got the ring;
The best is good enough for me.
Since fate insists on secrecy,
I have no arguments to bring-
I quarrel not with destiny.
The fellow that goes 'haw' for 'gee'
Will find he hasn't got full swing.
The best is good enough for me.
One only knows our needs, and he
Does all of the distributing.
I quarrel not with destiny:
The best is good enough for me.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That Would Be Devastating
How is he preparing for the next debate?
'That's hard for us to determine,
As of this date.'
Why?
'Well...
He's great during our practice sessions.
To make sure the public is informed.
But somehow he is still not convinced,
That eliminating the facts to use against his opponent...
Is not the way to win.'
What do you think is behind his strategy?
'We have no clue.
But hopefully he will realize...
The people have become fantasized,
By the image his opponent presents.
And using the facts as truth to prove,
To the people they have been duped...
Is what he has to do! '
I wonder if it would be to his benefit,
If he chose to expose to the people...
He was fluent in the speaking of Chinese?
And if he is not re-elected...
The Chinese will demand immediate payment,
Of those trillions of dollars...
They have invested in keeping us all delusioned.
'We have already suggested that.
But during the last conference we had with Big Bird,
A different tactic is guaranteed to awaken all the people.
You see...
The opponent has no idea,
How powerful Sesame Street really is.'
You don't think he is prepared to use Big Bird's recommendations,
As his secret weapon?
'Not only do I think he is going to use Big Bird.
But the entire cast of Sesame Street.'
That would be devastating for any opponent,
If he decided to do so.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Weakness makes strength.
A batsman shines against weak bowlers;
A bowler shines against weak batsmen.
One's weakness is the opponent's strength.
One's meekness is opponent's might.
29.09.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry.
William Butler Yeats in Essays, Anima Hominis (1924)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
It was completely fruitless to quarrel with the world, whereas the quarrel with oneself was occasionally fruitful and always, she had to admit, interesting.
quote by Soren Kierkegaard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Difference in War (In English)
When, I was so calm and silent,
You invited me, in land of love-war,
By blowing mature love conch.
Love-war was getting, when its par,
You got to go, so far and far.
How much is difference there?
In-between, other war and love-war.
Alike, pain arises in heart so far.
When, opponent wins in other war,
And opponent escapes in love-war.
poem by R.A. Chaudhary
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Though a quarrel in the streets is a thing to be hated, the energies displayed in it are fine; the commonest man shows a grace in his quarrel.
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Battle
I've entered the ring and I'm ready to fight
I'll need all my strength, and I'll need all my might.
The opponent is big, and so very strong.
To win seems impossible. This may not last long.
In a tension filled room the bell rang aloud.
My family was yelling; "Win. Make us proud."
My opponent came quickly over to me.
He was big and strong, and I wanted to flee.
He hit me so hard that I fell to the floor.
I lay hearing the count, … 1….2….3….4.
Should I try to get up, or stay down and wait?
The count kept on going, 23256 5….6….7….8.
Then piercing my soul came a voice to my ear;
"Son, reach out to me. We can win. I am here.
It hurts Me to see you in such agony.
You are my child, and are precious to me."
Tears came to my eyes, and new strength to each glove.
I knew that the voice was my God, from above.
I jumped to my feet just before the count ten,
Committed to never be knocked down again.
With the Lord in my corner, the opponent looked small,
My opponent's not man, but drugs and alcohol.
Though he's determined, defeat is my vow,
He trembles with fear, because God's with me now.
The fight is not over, but my foe's on the run.
A fight that seemed hopeless is soon to be won.
With the Lord on our side every battle we'll win
With victory assured when we turn to Him.
poem by Ron Tranmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Best Among The Best
I laid down upon the shore of my bed,
and dreamed of a world i set ablazed.
I heard the great shouting and roaring of my name,
as i kept playing the beautiful round leather game.
The electrifying emotion on the pitch,
and the extraordinary feeling off the pitch,
Made me the best.
Even when faced with a hard test,
i had no option than victory,
cos wen am on the pitch, i cause my opponent misery.
The smooth texture of the grasses,
brought me happiness from the masses.
The joy of winning every match,
brought even more tougher opponent attach.
Every game had something to play for,
and when i don't get a chance to play, makes me bore.
Hearing the screeming of my name from the fans,
only makes my opponent feel banes.
I just want to tell the whole world,
that i am the best in everything i does in the world.
poem by Stanley Oguh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Matter closed
Who said what
Does not matter
It needs two
To make a quarrel.
I said nothing
Matter closed
If you said yes
I said no.
Quarrel begin
And I am
In between.
And I withdrew
Myself
To go the light
That is in my
Reading room's shelf.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hence that general is skilful in attack whose opponent does not know what to defend; and he is skilful in defense whose opponent does not know what to attack.
Let Me Play Football
Let me run on the field
Of a crowded football stadium,
The ball is sticky to my leg,
Let the opponent’s defenders to come.
Let me head the ball with full force,
When my team player does a corner kick,
I want to place the ball in opponent’s net,
That’s an honour more than climbing Everest’s pick.
Let my team’s footballers hug me,
When I score a world class goal,
And I shall preserve my supporters’ celebration
Forever in my golden soul.
poem by Biswajit Ganguly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Quarrels
There's not much time. All the reasons to quarrel;
used up moments, and never you are right. life
Crumbles when we fight- why not wait to reason,
and then call your rights. Is a thing we all feel…to
win the quarrel against the other. What makes you
think you are always right- you’re full of egocentric
thoughts and lock of selfless. The mirror looks
back- not knowing who reflects. Full of it you!
You detest my opinions and speech, all my intensions
of deed, turn dark. The enemy looks sweeter than you.
I never know which words to speak, where to
start or even how to end...when you try to seduce
my thoughts you end up in quarrels somehow,
it never ends, it never stops, Then you ask “forgive
me” And the humble spirit in me forgives- but again
the war comes back to defeat our peace. Quarrel.
Without you he just can’t be.
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nothing more completely baffles one who is full of trick and duplicity than straigthforward and simple integrity in another. A knave would rather quarrel with a brother knave than with a fool, but he would rather avoid a quarrel with one honest man than with both. He can combat a fool by management and address, and he can conquer a knave by temptations. But the honest man is neither to be bamboozled nor bribed.
quote by Charles Caleb Colton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Sherrie
While the masses, like auburn-eyed cattle
were engrossed in their meaningless prattle.
An opponent stood tall
with much spunk, all in all
and her spark then ignited the battle.
It was soon about matching our wits.
There were insults and other mean bits.
But when peace came at dawn
she would no longer yawn
but describe her formidable tits.
I am sorry to mention that word.
Just pretend you had really not heard
he who says that our chests
are the equal to breasts
is a very much ignorant nerd.
So I thank my opponent of old
who resides just like me in the fold.
Ah, how history's duels
have been fought over jewels
of the flesh though and not of the gold.
In addition there is a good brain.
It is quick and a little bit vain.
And not one other gift
gives me such a great lift
the attraction is, well rather plain.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How to quarrel
There were two monks who
shared a cell in perfect amity.
Yet they, concerned to perfect their compassion
for all humankind, wished to know all
mankind’s troubles.
Mankind, said the one,
seems always to be quarrelling –
always too ready to pick some fight -
how can this be?
It seems, said the other, that in order to
assert their selfhood and to be ‘somebody’,
they must then invent an enemy,
who seeks to take something from them
that they deserve to have…
so then, they can allot
a ‘mine’ and ‘thine’, and pick
a violent quarrel to prove
their right to be themselves…
they’ll find anything so to label –
‘my tribe, your tribe’—even though
to anyone else, they seem the same –
my religion, your religion – though God is unaware
of any such division or allegiance; or when they’re
really desperate for something to fight about,
‘my postcode public territory,
your postcode public territory’…
Oh dear Lord, said the other monk,
how can we have compassion
for these suffering souls? We’ve never had
a quarrel…
Then we must invent one, said
the first monk: suppose I draw a line
in chalk along the floor of our cell..
and then we’ll call one side, my space,
the other yours…
And this he did. Now, he said,
we can have a quarrel: look,
I’m standing in your half of the room…
No you’re not, said the other,
it’s not my half…yes it is, we’ve agreed,
said the one…
Oh very well then, take it … you win!
said the other.. But there’s
nothing to take! said the first…
The two monks sat and sighed.
They would never know how
human kind could ever own
anything worth the quarrel over.
How difficult a holy life can be.
Have compassion, then, for the plight
of those two monks…
*
[Based on a story from the
early days of the Desert Fathers]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!