Related quotes
Food For Thought
The squirrel that finds an acorn,
Does he really know
the power that the acorn has
if let alone to grow?
It grows into a mighty oak
for the squirrel to scamper on,
until the fall arrives once more
when all the leaves are gone.
It's then the powerful acorn
is dug up once again
to repeat the yearly ritual
by our bushy-tailed little friend.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've been fighting with Acorn, alongside Acorn, on issues you care about, my entire career.
quote by Barack Obama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Acorn
An acorn swung
On an oak-tree bough;
So long it had hung,
It would fain fall now
To the kindly earth,
That its germ within
Might burst into birth,
And its life begin.
And the autumn came
With its burning hand,
And each leaf grew a flame,
And each bough a brand.
And a worm came up
And began to eat
Though the hard, dry cup
To the acorn sweet.
And the acorn thought,
“I shall soon see now
The life I have sought,
When I fall from the bough;
For the worm gnaws through
Each tendon slight,
That about me grew,
And bound me tight.”
And with dying day
Came the zephyr’s sound;
And the acorn lay
Next morn on the ground;
But its germ was gone
By the worm’s sharp teeth;
And the ground it had won
Was its grave in death.
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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The Worst And The Best
in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst
poem by Charles Bukowski
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worst Comes to Worst
(Babu mixing)
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst...come.....to worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst come...to...worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
(Evidence talking)
Yeah
It's goin down y'all
That's Babu
Yo
song performed by by Dilated Peoples from Expansion Team
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Understanding
Oh you mighty oak
from the acorn did you spring.
And so you grew slowly
from so small a thing.
Your magnificent stature
brings to mind
how I can hold you
in an acorn I find.
And the beauty of you
I can hold in my hand.
And maybe that's the way
God has planned
to connect my soul
with an oak so tall
that I'll understand
as in all God's things
I am really not that small.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Original - Time, My Worst Enemy
Time, My Worst Enemy
Keeping me away from you
Time, My Worst Enemy
Moving slowly when we’re apart
Time, My Worst Enemy
Fleeting when you are near
Time, My Worst Enemy
Battling with it daily
Time, My Worst Enemy
Stealing moments from the clock
Time, My Worst Enemy
Until you are in my arms again
Time, My Worst Enemy
Rapidly chasing us down
Time, My Worst Enemy
He will not take you this time
Time, My Worst Enemy
You are in my arms to stay
Time, My Worst Enemy
Has Lost!
I Am He
I am he,
Spoke the acorn to the tree
Said the flower to the seed
Replied the wind to the breeze
And standing up in awe
Stood an oak tree standing tall
And below his roots did lie
The acorn who did cry
That I am he.
Like the wind who fathers the breeze
Or the flower, who nourishes the seed
To grow up and be like he
I am he.
I am he said the father to the sky
And the stars in the night
To his son that he held
To become like himself
And I am he.
I am he
Said the raven to its young
And the bear to its cub
And the wind to the breeze
That I am he.
And looking up in belief
Lied an acorn from a tree
From which that it had fallen
Knowing he had been calling’
To be like he.
So, I am he
Like the father is the child
And the flower is the seed
The raindropp to the sea
I am he!
And he is me
Replied the oak tree to the seed.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is She?
Where is she, I wondered, when she wasn't there.
If she's not here she could be anywhere. She could be
anywhere and not alone.
I began to imagine the worst. At every imagining
I thought I had imagined the worst, then I imagined
something even worse. It got to the point where my
imaginings no longer included her. I realized that the
worst did not encompass her. As my imaginings continued,
as worst superseded worst, making the preceding worst
only worse, I began to forget her. As worst got worse,
I forgot her more. Things were getting pretty bad, and
I had almost forgotten her completely, when she
reappeared.
poem by Peter Cherches
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The most and the worst
Man wants money most
And uses it worst.
He wants time most
And spends it worst.
He wants things most
And waste them worst.
He wants women most
And miss them worst.
31.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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September Morn
I watch the World around me
As again I hear nature call
For it is the end of summertime
And the awakening of a beautiful fall.
The leaves have changed their colors
The skies became icy white
My heart becomes exceedingly joyful
At Septembers, beautiful sight.
The rustling wind has turned to cold
The leaves have changed to brown
This moment, I pray to hold
As the leaves fall onto the ground.
The squirrels scurry from their trees
The birds have all flown away
It is another September morning
I feel it with each step that I take.
With a cold wind against my back
I journey to a great tree
To pick up the jewels that she left there
An acorn, and a lonely leaf.
I shiver as I walk
With a leaf and acorn in hand
I watch fall as it arrives around me,
So happy is this man.
I then walk up unto my wife
I present her with the leaf and acorn
So happy I am with this fall,
That I give Her my September morn.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The worst thing that can happen to a man is to lose his money, the next worst his health, the next worst his reputation.
quote by Samuel Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Average
Engulfed in a maze
Of the best and the worst,
I wearily stagger and stumble.
I'm the best of the worst,
But the worst of the best.
My problem
To brag or grumble.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Year ago—jots what?
296
One Year ago—jots what?
God—spell the word! I—can't—
Was't Grace? Not that—
Was't Glory? That—will do—
Spell slower—Glory—
Such Anniversary shall be—
Sometimes—not often—in Eternity—
When farther Parted, than the Common Woe—
Look—feed upon each other's faces—so—
In doubtful meal, if it be possible
Their Banquet's true—
I tasted—careless—then—
I did not know the Wine
Came once a World—Did you?
Oh, had you told me so—
This Thirst would blister—easier—now—
You said it hurt you—most—
Mine—was an Acorn's Breast—
And could not know how fondness grew
In Shaggier Vest—
Perhaps—I couldn't—
But, had you looked in—
A Giant—eye to eye with you, had been—
No Acorn—then—
So—Twelve months ago—
We breathed—
Then dropped the Air—
Which bore it best?
Was this—the patientest—
Because it was a Child, you know—
And could not value—Air?
If to be "Elder"—mean most pain—
I'm old enough, today, I'm certain—then—
As old as thee—how soon?
One—Birthday more—or Ten?
Let me—choose!
Ah, Sir, None!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Chipmunks Confusion
Chipmunk
Tail held high
Sprints across the street
On the fly -
To get to the other side
His only goal
There to dive
In another hole -
But wait,
Half way across
His small attention span
Gets lost -
The aroma of an acorn
Lingers upon the center line
With just one sweet sniff
He knows what he must find -
Turning
With the street
Several cars
He does meet -
Dodging them all
In and out
Strictly by chance
Blindly following his commanding snout -
Desire rules
Over fear for death's sake
Find the acorn
Whatever it takes -
At length
Circling full around
Back to where he started
In his own abode, under the ground -
Silly
He thinks to self,
That seductive sweet scent
Was the nut, here, on my own home shelf -
... So, back out
Once more he goes
Resuming his daily routine
Of crossing the road -
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn sometimes.
Even a blind pig finds an acorn every once in awhile.