At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it.
quote by Yukio Mishima
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Busy
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the old woman needs help
to find her way home.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the dove is too slow
to fly out of the way.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the children crossing the street
are too many.
I am busy
you are busy
we are busy....
I am busy
you are busy
we are...
busy.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Early Works - Of Springs Glory Dreams
The scented perfume of spring
enters every nook and cranny,
the serenade of birds winging high
sends music to everyone around
of love and joyful things
they say to us are bound.
Why, why do we search the sky
for dreams impossible to share?
3 October 1979
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Works - Dreams Impossible
The scented perfume of spring
entering every nook and cranny
the serenade of birds winging high
sends music to everyone around
of love and joyful things
they say to us are bound.
So why do we search the skies
for dreams impossible to share?
Date unknown
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Boot Sale
Car boot sale.
Car booties!
People are selling off paste tables,
They can be found in every nook and cranny,
Car parks, football fields and parks everywhere.
When you have seen one you have seen then all.
Bored faces being dragged from table to table,
People being charged silly money for total rubbish.
When they should have taken it to the Tip!
poem by Paul Freiter
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The Sculptor
the sculptor
works with slow
precision
in the late afternoon
light....
the room is bare;
and he is naked.
the old cat sits
curled in the windowsill...
life unto life.
his aged hands impart
the magic of life
having been lived....
his eyes see the depths
of every nook and cranny,
having travelled the distance
to nearness!
everything known,
everything felt,
everything touched...
given!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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This Mind of Mine
My mind lives in a place all its own,
a place that's mostly quiet.
But there are times when all that silence
erupts into a riot.
It houses so many thoughts each day,
but I don't complain.
It's home to so many melodies
and many a refrain.
Too hard to keep orderly, tidy and neat,
clutter often abounds.
As I try to clear it out I find
the disorder stays around.
But somehow I've managed to disregard it.
There's a nook and cranny inside.
That's the place where I'm comfortable
and all my words reside.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Life And Time
if life is a book, then time is pen--writing pages of life journey;
if life is a piece of white paper, then time is color--painting more colorful life journey;
if life is a long river, then time is surging waves--pushing forward of life journey;
if life is a tree, then time is pieces of green leaves--enriching life journey;
if life is a door, then time is just the key--opening new start of life journey;
if life is a cup of coffee, then time is a bag of condiments--flavoring into life journey;
if life is a scene of tv play, then time is nameless leading role in it--performing its own speical and unique life journey;
if life is a oil painting, then time is its palette--rendering life journey;
if life is a fast horse, then time is its running greenland--carrying load of life journey;
if life is a greenland, then time is spring rain--moisturing nutrition of life journey
...........
this is ur own life, a life which only belong to ur own, ur sepcial and unique one.......
poem by Flying Heart
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In all the important preparations of the mind she was complete: being prepared for matrimony by an hatred of home, restraint, and tranquillity; by the misery of disappointed affection, and contempt of the man she was to marry.
Jane Austen in Mansfield Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Granny
Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor old Granny
Around her knees, into each ear
(And up nose as well, I fear)
All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people)
It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-
But most of all, it blew on Granny!
poem by Spike Milligan
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How Many Miles More?
how many miles more
shall i walk, to make myself complete?
how many oceans shall i sail
to make myself a man complete?
how many skies more to fly?
how many planets more
to step upon?
how many black holes more
to explore?
how many deaths?
how many unknowns to solve
to make this journey complete?
i do not really know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Time
at present
so busy
no time
time keeps slip
slip slip... sliding away
so busy with work
so busy with myriads
of things needing to be done
a working solo mum
is always on the run
so little time to get all done
not enough time
contained to work in each days sun
to complete so many errands
she must continually run run run to get all done
stop take a breathe
stop take a needful rest
stop take a needful quiet peaceful rest
rest body spirit soul
rest body spirit soul then rise
rise to spread the loving glory of your light
poem by Terence George Craddock
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How to Make an Absolute Killing
Everyone but everyone wants to own a property in London
If theres a slight economic boom anywhere - in, say, India
Then, Indians will want to buy a place over here
Not in Paris. Not in the US
Not in places like Amsterdam
It's got to be London
People from every nook and cranny of the world
Where ever Britain had it's colonies
Are drawn like magnets to the 'Mother Country.'
I've lived in London for over 30 years
The Property market is simply booming
My palm is more than itching
So, when I sell my house
I hope and expect
To make an absolute killing!
poem by Nayyar Shabbir Ahmad
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Online Audience - Acrostic Sonnet
Over and beyond statistics, man
No pattern plays it seems that can't be traced,
Linked and cross-referenced with ugly haste.
Internet: shared platform where one can
Now learn, now touch, anticipate and span
Every act - both browser, buyer based.
Audiences are not multi-faced,
Unique each individual, no plan
Displaying data processing can scan
In every cranny, nook. Most mining’s placed
Extremely arbitrarily, misplaced
Not keyed to taste evolving in the van.
Cookie capture should not correlate
Each 'I' whose instincts few appreciate...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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When I Arrive I See You Half Naked
when i arrive from my journey
i see you half naked
and you are sleeping
i do not wish to wake you up
i want to see you in that state
where you are what you are
without motion but just the form
where you cannot say anything
to all that i long for
i sit beside you and look at your
body
i am feasting i am motionless
i am speechless
to such a beauty of the one
i love
it is new all over again
the world stops right here
and i do not want it to move
to rotate to make its orbit
to complete its journey
all i want now is a suspension
of time and form and place
because you are with me
because i am with you.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shake Hands With Beef
Theres a time for lies and a time for truth.
I say, eye for an eye, eye for a tooth.
When I roamed young, Id scavenge around.
Every nook and cranny of our little town.
Its nice, so nice, to be.
Pull out the cannon boys, steal us some wine.
Puff tijuana smalls. shake hands with beef!
Shes so fine, shes so sweet.
Mom and pop they raised her on huge slabs of meat.
Shes fine, a man of nine, water derby day.
Twenty six pumps on a crossman, and its time to play
Its nice, so nice, to be
Pull out the cannon boys, steal us some wine
Puff tijuana smalls. shake hands with beef!
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Katie
The truth is,
I can't throw much of my money into the thin air for you!
Oh, my mid-summer night.
Of a half-naked body on my bed,
For she is sheltered from sex and nudity! !
But, do i need a lawn on this issue?
For, the hiding place of her love is now being eaten up.
Katie! !
Some supplements will help you on this issue to gain your strength back;
But, for how long? !
And like the tuna with the red sauce being served around;
But, without English Muffins! !
In the eating,
You are like every nook and cranny! !
And like a Russian Vodka on your love;
But, i can't throw much of my money into the thin air for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Complete possession is proved only by giving. All you are unable to give possesses you.
quote by Andre Gide
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spirtual Ethics
'To take the life of self or another'
Never again a journey with sister or brother.
'To be the instigator of physical or mental pain'
A journey as the receiver of the act; time and time again.
'Those who cheat, lie or steal'
A journey of darkness never to see or reveal.
'The abusers of the earthly phsycial form'
A journey when they wished they were never born.
'Those who do not share their earthly treasure'
A journey spent in waiting in a time they cannot measure.
'Those who do wrong and believe it is right'
A long, long journey to see a heavenly sight.
'Those who misuse the gift of power'
A journey that will include an eternal hour.
'Those who fail to give thanks for the gifts of each'
The jorney delayed until some one can teach.
'Failure to offer free expression to God of a love deep within'
The journey will not contain a door for a new life to begin
04-06-06 Aho Speaks
.
poem by AHO Speaks
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The Barreness Of A Busy Life
Beware the barrenness of a busy life.
(Socrates)
bored as barren
a body that is bone-dry,
a walk in the desert,
dry as dust,
moistureless existence
lips parched,
a thirsty soul,
a life waterless
busy, busy, busy,
that is what you are.
beware, for soon
in seeking life
busy, busy, busy,
you lose it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Data Min[d]ing - Online Audience
O ver and beyond statistics, man
N o pattern plays some say that can't be traced,
L inks cross-referenced, - route pinged, browser based.
I nternet: peer platform where one can
N ow tag, now touch, anticipate surf span.
E xploitation leaves a bitter taste,
A udiences are not multi-faced,
U nique is each despite outreach t[hr]o[ugh] clan.
D ata should be scroogled, never scan
I n every nook and cranny, copy paste, -
E xtremely focussed look cooks book, misplaced,
N ot keyed to trends evolving in the van.
C hips RFID captive take, embrace
E ach 'I' who basic instincts fears to face...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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