This desk of mine is one at which a man may die, but from which he cannot resign.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Redundant.
.
The skull that grins upon my desk
I picked up at a car boot sale
Although my taste me seen grotesque.
The skull reminds me without fail.
As he is now so will I be.
In time to come I too must die
I don't suppose he thought that he.
Would end up as a bargain buy.
When I am dead my skull may be.
An ornament that's on display.
On someone's desk quite possibly
What does it matter anyway.
Though it was mine it is not me.
It never was nor will it be.
Saturday,08 September 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In Memoriam (A Child Missed)
A desk lies empty
A missing face to find
A child soon missed by some
Another life consumed by one
A classmate questioned
A missing child to find
While a desk lies empty
A hope dwindles with time
As a child's life once abound
A child's fate is now found
While a desk lies empty
A lifeless child is found
As questions of why arise
A time for tears to flow
While a desk lies empty
A prayer for a missed child we know
A quiet voice to miss
A child missed we know
While a desk lies empty
A question of why to know
A future now not to be
A tragic loss we are told
While a desk lies empty
An answer of why yet untold
A myriad of lives changed
Another youthful innocent lost
While a desk lies empty
At a life's innocence cost
A society believed so rich
And yet a life's worth so poor
While a desk lies empty
Another child's life's no more
A time to ponder a commitment
A life's question to answer
While a desk lies empty...
poem by Robert John Meehan
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Trust
A word on my desk with dust
enough to leave some rust
Just a little dust on the table of our life
trust is just another word for little white lies
I remember the bliss of love
But also of lust
Given in faith for trust
Thrown away on a desk full of dust.
on a promissory note so clear
Even evil could not endear
so wrong my dear
you are dancing in heaven
while I am stuck here in hell
angels tell me of your bliss
your trust and mine
I do miss.
Seven Months
How can I forget you
Disregard how I feel
Silently listen
To the words I cant see
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
Why should I forgive you
After all that Ive seen
Quietly whisper
When my heart wants to scream
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
Theres no time to rest
Or to reconsider
For this cruel unsaid, wont concede
For as long as I have tried
And as low as I can be
I will never resign myself
From the trial I seek
song performed by by Portishead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Witch-Wife
She is neither pink nor pale,
And she never will be all mine;
She learned her hands in a fairy-tale,
And her mouth on a valentine.
She has more hair than she needs;
In the sun 'tis a woe to me!
And her voice is a string of coloured beads,
Or steps leading into the sea.
She loves me all that she can,
And her ways to my ways resign;
But she was not made for any man,
And she never will be all mine.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Fill A Glass With Golden Wine
Fill a glass with golden wine,
And the while your lips are wet
Set your perfume unto mine,
And forget.
Every kiss we take and give
Leaves us less of life to live.
Yet again! Your whim and mine
In a happy while have met.
All your sweets to me resign,
Nor regret
That we press with every breath,
Sighed or singing, nearer death.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Sir, I see a lot of documents in my day-to-day business, and I can't tell you every document that I've seen. It may have passed across my desk. It may not have passed across my desk. I truthfully cannot answer that question, other than to say I don't remember.
quote by Rand Beers
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You can know a person by the kind of desk he keeps. If the president of a company has a clean desk then it must be the executive vice president who is doing all the work.
quote by Harold S. Geneen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But I really like hosting, I think it's a strength of mine. It allows me to improvise, and I love the spontaneity of that, and I think I'm funny behind the desk when interviewing someone.
quote by Garry Shandling
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I just couldn't take school seriously: I had this guitar neck with four frets which I kept hidden under the desk. It had strings on it so I would practice my chord shapes under the desk and that's about all I did at school.
If a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind, what is the significance of a clean desk?
quote by Laurence J. Peter
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If a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind, what is the significance of a clean desk
quote by Laurence J. Peter
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If a cluttered desk signs a cluttered mind, Of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?
quote by Albert Einstein
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I was very strange back then. I could see I had problems. I would sit in a closet a lot of the time and not come out, or I would sit up on top of my desk, or under my desk, or do weird things like get my wisdom teeth out and bleed all over the hallways.
Tim Burton in Burton On Burton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alsatian Cousin
Were you and he lovers ?
And would you say so if you were ?
On a forecourt
On a friday
Passing my way
Oh...
Were you and he lovers ?
And if you were, then say that you were!
On a groundsheet
Under canvas
With your tent-flap
Open wide
A note upon his desk
P.s. bring me home and have me!
Leather elbows on a tweed coat
-oh!-
Is that the best you can do ?
So came his reply :
But on the desk is where I want you!
So I ask (even though I know):
Were you and he lovers ?
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A pastel dream
Oh for a kiss would my heart resign
Those pastel sketches I have dreamt
Those same dreams which filled my days
Told of a great love and romance kept
A gallery of portraits I have seen
Pictured my soul became revealed
I saw the beauty of which I desired
Inspired by a greater beauty to life
And all of this I have surveyed
The pastel landscape of a world imagined
Soft, softly drawn with tender care
The heart, the soul did bring to view
A passionate desire gentle in its nature
All of which created this picture
This pastel daydream I have dreamt
I would surrender it all, I would resign
To feel a kiss from her lips touch mine
poem by Matthew Holloway
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This pride of mine
Is it my absurd pride,
Which countenanced you to take off and run?
Is it my rainbow pride,
Which made you flee to the searing sun?
I beg of you
Stop! Think twice
A little pride is better than nice.
That is a saying plausibly far from wise!
If your love could fall once more out of the sky
This pride of mine I throw out amply to the sea
I tell no lie and I speak no lies
This pride of mine, I’ll give to another for free
For years and years
I have chewed over on my pride
Crying out inside beclouded tears
Our love went down with a dingy backslide
But! But!
This pride of mine was too blind to see
Sometimes it draws out the beauty in me
Sometimes it sheds out the ugly in me
Like leaves falling off once a blossoming tree
This pride of mine
Needs to resign
This pride of mine
Isn’t sweeter than wine
But! But!
If your love could fall once more out of the sky
This pride of mine I throw out amply to the sea
I promise to be humble, humble and humble
For upon your type of love I may never stumble!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, just what does an empty desk mean?
In The Doldrums Waiting
I sit at my desk
in the doldrums waiting
for an idea to hit me,
but sadly, nothing comes along.
I think of things that
have happened to me
hoping one of them will inspire.
However, the memories compound together
overlapping into one another,
and each are small glimpses
of a more elaborate one.
The nonsense of them all
sends me backwards to where I started from,
sitting here at my desk
in the doldrums waiting.
2 September 2012
poem by David Harris
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Against The Evidence
As I reach to close each book
lying open on my desk, it leaps up
to snap at my fingers. My legs
won’t hold me, I must sit down.
My fingers pain me
where the thick leaves snapped together
at my touch.
All my life
I’ve held books in my hands
like children, carefully turning
their pages and straightening out
their creases. I use books
almost apologetically. I believe
I often think their thoughts for them.
Reading, I never know where theirs leave off
and mine begin. I am so much alone
in the world, I can observe the stars
or study the breeze, I can count the steps
on a stair on the way up or down,
and I can look at another human being
and get a smile, knowing
it is for the sake of politeness.
Nothing must be said of estrangement
among the human race and yet
nothing is said at all
because of that.
But no book will help either.
I stroke my desk,
its wood so smooth, so patient and still.
I set a typewriter on its surface
and begin to type
to tell myself my troubles.
Against the evidence, I live by choice.
poem by David Ignatow
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