Related quotes
On A Stormy Day
on this kind of acerbity
waves of the sea in agitation
the air in animosity with water
the bitterness of the moon
the bluster and choler of the elements
the convulsion of the sea floor
the eruption of frenzy
the ferment of furor
the ire of the sun
the rampage of the trees and its shadows
an uproar of disgust
the violence of vehemence
the mosquitoes on a wingding of a wrath
the hemorrhage of human emotions
the paroxysm of our passions
the gall of the spleen
the madness of men to men
the ferocity of all these fireworks of lies
the tantrums of temper
to acrimony
amen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The lowest trees have tops
The lowest trees have tops, the ant her gall,
The fly her spleen, the little spark his heat,
And slender hairs cast shadows though but small,
And bees have stings although they be not great.
Seas have their source, and so have shallow springs,
And love is love in beggars and in kings.
Where waters smoothest run, deep are the fords,
The dial stirs, yet none perceives it move:
The firmest faith is in the fewest words,
The turtles cannot sing, and yet they love,
True hearts have eyes and ears no tongues to speak:
They hear, and see, and sigh, and then they break.
poem by Sir Edward Dyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Without Feeling Guilt Or Appalled At All
It's just so sad...
To think that people don't get a bite to eat.
And it's just so sad...
These people aren't the only ones seen on the streets.
Some still live in homes,
While others condone roaming all alone.
Oh it's just too sad...
To know the ones who lead aren't leaders.
Although give they do nice and sweet speeches,
As if what will be done is prioritized...
And homelessness and hunger will soon meet defeat!
It's just so sad...
To witness people struggle to their feet.
And walk for miles to try to keep up...
Their heads as they seek dwindling opportunities.
As others pass them talking,
To leave them without greeting...
Or helping out to meet their needs.
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled at all!
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled at all!
It's just so sad...
To think that people don't get a bite to eat.
And it's just so sad...
These people aren't the only ones seen on the streets.
Some still live in homes,
While others condone roaming all alone.
(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.
(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.
(It's just so...)
People have the gall to dropp this ball,
Without feeling guilt or appalled.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Creature
A shadow glides above my plate
And all I see is birds migrate
Going south, remember me
When you fly above the sea
Autumn dies serene and slow
The lamp stands in a gentle glow
The silence rules, the evening grows
And the moon is far below
In me twist a sudden cramp
In my heart I hear it stamp
Marrow and blood encircle me
My blood stream chokes on gall and spleen
What will become of you
Since you have forsaken me
Not one tear I have in me
I am numb to my memory
Ill believe than that youre dead
First I felt bitter, I made amends
But I see you in a new light
You only have my contempt
So Ill believe than that youre dead
Second youre a loser, I spit on pretence
And I begin to wonder, and I begin to understand
That, youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds and kind of dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Dies.
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Creature
A shadow glides above my plate
And all I see is birds migrate
Going south, remember me
When you fly above the sea
Autumn dies serene and slow
The lamp stands in a gentle glow
The silence rules, the evening grows
And the moon is far below
In me twist a sudden cramp
In my heart I hear it stamp
Marrow and blood encircle me
My blood stream chokes on gall and spleen
What will become of you
Since you have forsaken me
Not one tear I have in me
I am numb to my memory
Ill believe than that youre dead
First I felt bitter, I made amends
But I see you in a new light
You only have my contempt
So Ill believe than that youre dead
Second youre a loser, I spit on pretence
And I begin to wonder, and I begin to understand
That, youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds and kind of dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Youre a creature that breeds its kind and dies
Dies.
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm now convinced that I'm a doctor. I mean, if someone says they have a pain, I'm like, 'Well, that's your spleen.'
quote by Olivia Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the spleen increases, the body diminishes.
As Ireland Wore the Green
BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?
CHORUS:
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we will wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
I see the shade of poverty fall on each sunny scene.
And slums and alley-ways extend where fields were evergreen.
There is a law that stamps the flower of freedom as it springs;
And this upon a soil that’s trod by prouder feet than kings’.
And must I hide my colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall I wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland swore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
Out there beyond the lonely range our fathers toiled for years
’Neath all the hardships that beset true-hearted pioneers;
And our brave mothers journeyed there to do the work of men
On those great awful plains that were unfit for women then.
Then must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammon’s spleen?
Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, we shall wear our colour still,
As Ireland wore the green!
O shall the fields our fathers won be yielded to the few
Who never touched the axe or spade, and hardships never knew?
Shall lordly robbers rule the land and build their mansions high,
And ladies flaunt their jewelled plumes where our brave mothers lie?
O must we hide our colour
In fear of Mammnon’s spleen?
Or shall the wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green?
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
What though our stalwart fathers came from every land on earth,
We will be loyal to the land that gives our children birth.
We’ll show our banner to the sun—the Southern Cross displayed—
And join our strength together for the home our fathers made.
Let cowards hide their colour
For fear of Mammon’s spleen!
But I will wear my bonnie blue
As Ireland swore the green!
As Ireland swore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, I will wear my colour still,
As Ireland swore the green!
We’ll light the lamp of hope above the alley and the slum,
And teach the poor and drill them for the war that is to come.
We’ll send our songs recruiting far beneath the western sky,
And wake the towns and let them know the day of deeds is nigh.
And the twill wear our colour
In spite of Mammon’s spleen!
O the will wear the bonnie blue
As Ireland wore the green!
As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
As Ireland wore the green!
Aye, the will wear our colour yet,
As Ireland wore the green!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When a man is not used to breeches the seams gall him.
Everything tastes bitter to him with gall in his mouth.
Touch a gall'd Horse on the back and he will fling.