Related quotes
He who chatters with you will chatter about you.
Who chatters to you, will chatter of you.
English proverbs

Submitted by Micheleflowerbomb
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Leves Amores
I
Your kisses, and the way you curl,
Delicious and distracting girl,
Into one's arms, and round about,
Luxuriously in and out
Twining inextricably, as twine
The clasping tangles of the vine;
Strong to embrace and long to kiss,
And strenuous for the sharper bliss,
Insatiably enamoured of
The ultimate ecstasy of love.
So loving to be loved, so gay
And greedy for our holiday;
And then how prettily you sleep!
You nestle close, and let me keep
My straying fingers in the nest
Of your warm comfortable breast;
And as I lie and dream awake,
Unsleeping for your sleeping sake,
I feel the very pulse and heat
Of your young life-blood beat, and beat
With mine; and you are mine, my sweet!
II
The little bedroom papered red,
The gas's faint malodorous light,
And one beside me in the bed,
Who chatters, chatters, half the night.
I drowse and listen, drowse again,
And still, although I would not hear,
Her stream of chatter, like the rain,
Is falling, falling on my ear.
The bed-clothes stifle me, I ache
With weariness, my eyelids prick;
I hate, until I long to break,
That clock for its tyrannic tick.
And still beside me, through the heat
Of this September night, I feel
Her body's warmth upon the sheet
Burn through my limbs from head to heel.
And still I see her profile lift
Its tiresome line above the hair,
That streams, a dark and tumbled drift,
Across the pillow that I share
poem by Arthur Symons

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It is still not enough for language to have clarity and content... it must also have a goal and an imperative. Otherwise from language we descend to chatter, from chatter to babble and from babble to confusion.
quote by Rene Daumal

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a woman
I am a woman
I can exquisitely cook
I have the killer feminine look
You can always read me like a book
I am a woman
I am beautiful
I am homely and dutiful
I’m skilful in giving an earful, mouthful or an eyeful
I am a woman
I am dumb with not an ounce of wisdom
Will quite happily engage in a threesome!
My chest and their two nuts always blossom
I am a woman
I stand up proud
I am a woman and human
I say out loud
Even when there is no crowd
Day by day passes
I keep comparing my ass to other women’s asses
Stupefying! How an ass alone can assail the masses
Mystifying! How an ass alone scales to greener grasses
I am a woman
I drink from a glass and not a beer can
Fluttering eyelids, breasts, backside, legs and my scent
Are the building blocks and tools of my personal assets!
Required to make anyone my ultimate focused fan
Tattle - Chatter, Yakety-yak-Chatter
So I gather
Tattle - Chatter, Yakety-yak-Chatter
Of which I am the master
Tattle - Chatter, Yakety-yak-Chatter
Talk I do non-stop like a rapper
Tattle - Chatter, Yakety-yak-Chatter
Talk I do as if I have all the answers
I am a woman
My glossy fingernails, smeary lipstick
Is enough for you to tremble!
Adequate for you to reassemble
Reassemble yourself to be weak
And the walk I walk
And the talk I talk
With the way I rock
With the way I mock
Is flying out there as a clear message
I can be cold stone and hard as a rock
Or as warm and lovingly fun as glamorous luck
O Yes! I am that woman on this life’s stage
To all man this is still an obstacle
The simple underlying principle
That permits me to give birth to life!
Makes me that woman an unbelievable miracle
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spring breeze
mom chatters with child
about his new shirt
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Passionate rain pours
lovers earth and sky chatters
sounds pitter-patter
haiku by Anjali Sinha (2008)

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He that has eyes to see and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret. If his lips are silent, he chatters with his fingertips; betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.
quote by Sigmund Freud

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
Blood - blood and torn grass -
Had marked the rise of his agony -
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: 'John!'
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
poem by Stephen Crane

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Secret
You've been told my secret
Not from the words of my lips
I wanted to keep it
Keep it on my finger tips
Wanting to tell you myself
Trying to find my courage
Wondering what are you thinking to yourself
Loosing all of my courage
Leading me far away from you
Slower each day
My eyes want to catch you in my view
Walking past you each day
But I don't won't to stray away
My heart is beating faster
For what I'm about to say
My lips begin to chatter
Chatter with the words in my mind
As I'm telling you my secret
From the words of my lips this time
Now you can keep it... our secret
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top
Blood -- blood and torn grass --
Had marked the rise of his agony --
This lone hunter.
The grey-green woods impassive
Had watched the threshing of his limbs.
A canoe with flashing paddle,
A girl with soft searching eyes,
A call: "John!"
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Come, arise, hunter!
Can you not hear?
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top.
poem by Stephen Crane

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wild Wild Party In The Loquat Tree
Out in the back by the grape stake fence
Is a place where nature makes so much sense
All the creatures livin in harmony
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Fuzzies and furries run walk or fly
Havin a feast beneath a clear blue sky
Animals comin from miles around
To bounce the branch and shake the loquat down
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Peckin at em pickin at em hidin em away
Savin em up for a rainy day
No matter how big no matter how small
Theres more than enough theres plenty for all
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Every little loquat holds the seed
For a brand-new baby loquat tree
One o these seeds may find its way
To a place in the sun and then someday
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
All havin a party in the loquat tree
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
The squirrel and the sparrow and the mouse and the bee
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
All havin a party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Eatin all the yellow fruit they can see
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[havin a party]
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
(eatin all the yellow fruit)
[in the loquat tree]
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
Chatter chirp squeak buzz
Its a wild wild party in the loquat tree
song performed by by Indigo Girls

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chat
in accordance with the law
of evolution
we chatters shall soon lose our
mouths
we are now attuned to speaking
with our fingers,
at least, we touch
but possibly we must invoke
the retention of our mouths
who knows if we meet
how can we kiss?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Detected
In Congress once great Mowther shone,
Debating weighty matters;
Now into an asylum thrown,
He vacuously chatters.
If in that legislative hall
His wisdom still he 'd vented,
It never had been known at all
That Mowther was demented.
poem by Ambrose Bierce

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God
I think about God.
Yet I talk of small matters.
Now isn't it odd
How my idle tongue chatters!
Of quarrelsome neighbors,
Fine weather and rain,
Indifferent labors,
Indifferent pain,
Some trivial style
Fashion shifts with a nod.
And yet all the while
I am thinking of God.
poem by Gamaliel Bradford

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lines Written in Hospital
Upon a snowy bed I lie,
Too placid to complain,
And watch the mad world rushing by
Beyond my window-pane,
The traffic threading in and out
And wonder what it's all about.
I watch the loaded tramcars stream
By dozens into town,
With men, each thinking of some scheme
To take his neighbour down;
Each woman wond'ring what she'll buy
At Frill and Fluffum's bye and bye.
Down in the street I hear the talk
Of people passing by,
They chatter, chatter as they walk
Of all thins 'neath the sky
Of trade, of sport, of foolish things
That lack of clear reflection brings.
Placid I said I was - but no;
For all this seems to me
This madly rushing to and fro
Just sheer futility.
And, as I choke with rising wrath,
The nurse says, 'Time to take your broth.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Does The Donkey Bray About?
What does the donkey bray about?
What does the pig grunt through his snout?
What does the goose mean by a hiss?
Oh, Nurse, if you can tell me this,
I'll give you such a kiss.
The cockatoo calls ‘cockatoo,’
The magpie chatters ‘how d'ye do?’
The jackdaw bids me ‘go away,’
Cuckoo cries ‘cuckoo’ half the day:
What do the others say?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Another Memory
….passing through another memory
the drifted memory timed on brinks
flung open like doors,
old women’s chatters,
truth observed,
typewriter of olden times,
a dead Rondeñan sun
steaming hot against life and death,
against itself,
against eyes that sadden
or dreams that are endless,
in newness never returning to oldness….
poem by Edmundo Farolan

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A wise man does not chatter with one whose mind is sick.