I am unable to understand how a man of honor could take a newspaper in his hands without a shudder of disgust.
quote by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Any newspaper, from the first line to the last, is nothing but a web of horrors, I cannot understand how an innocent hand can touch a newspaper without convulsing in disgust.
quote by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CX: Ability
It’s not unable, it’s just not a favor
It’s not unable, it’s just reluctance
It’s not unable, it’s just not my style
It’s not unable, it’s just wrong
It’s not unable, it’s just no time
It’s not unable, it’s just out of place
It’s not unable, it’s just not consideration
It’s not unable, it’s just objection
It’s not unable, it’s just not effective
It’s not unable, it’s just stubbornness
It’s not unable, it’s just not important
It’s not unable, it’s just mercy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Turning Wheel....
turning wheel....
newspaper clipping epitaphs,
dead bodies whisper
in the grasses turned brown...
water stagnant, stinking
with blackened greed....
children's hands severed,
lined up beneath the altar,
sacrificed to the gods
of an angry age...
even the trees weep,
and the mountains shudder!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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O my God excuse me
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Without borrowing and
Without stealing
It is quite impossible
To live with dignity
And what is dignity
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
Being human
I be committed to
Public cause
I am not able to do it
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
I am unable to practice
Tolerance and create
Nuisance
I am unable to understand
O God excuse me.
O my God excuse me
Excuse me.
The mistake I have done
And the punishment
I have got
O God excuse me
Excuse me.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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O, What is Lost?
Yet again, the stock market crumbles and falls,
Ruining the economy for us all.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?
Gas prices rise as embargoes are insinuated.
War seems imminent. Tension is elevated.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?
Epidemics, viral infections are on the verge of spreading.
It's a shame our scientists don't know anything.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?
Front page: Can you believe it? Could it be true?
Snooki is pregnant. When is she due?
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Life In Newspaper
Some life stop their life on newspaper.
some life loss their life on newspaper.
loss their life like a photograph.
Loss their life in a column of newspaper.
Loss their life in the lightening photo of star.
Speech of false leader.
Profile of high profile cader.
Photo of dustbin child.
Fulfil the newspaper.
Now life,
Now love,
Addvertisement of peace,
or humanity.
Everything u found here.
Now life loss his life in newspaper.
poem by Imtiaz Emon
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Alone, I Am
Alone, I seem not, though I am
Alone, I must travel the unfocused future
Although at times I may travel with a companion
Nevertheless, none are close enough to know my true nature
At times throughout the winding path, I have become acquainted with a compassionate soul
Though in the end, they also desert me, unable to understand my true nature
At the present, I was near to a potential companion
However, I now feel him drifting from me
As the waning of the moon, playing with the tides of my emotions
I shudder to realize, that I dared to hope, for the perfect, most angelic soul
One who can understand my hopes, my fears, my dreams, my past
In essence, my true nature
But then I finally have come to realize
That Alone, I must travel the unfocused future
Alone, I seem not, though I am.
poem by Katie Frank
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NEWS -You don't want to get stopped up
My morning newspaper's late again
If I were desperate for news
Which I am not
I could the internet cruise
From CNN to the London Times
I could click here and there
Get second hand more news
Than I could bear
I want my newspaper in my hands
That is the point you see
To check high school sports
Working on my first cup of coffee
Make sure I'm not listed as an obit'
See what businesses have decided to quit
That's all the news that will fit
'Cause it's time for my AM s___!
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Now Stop, Face Reality
you have shown me
how to convert
this newspaper strips
into money
how this flower
turns into a white
rabbit
how the rabbit turns
into a hat
then back to a newspaper
strips again
magician, i am tired
of your illusions
how your hands
deftly deceived my
weaker eyes
now i have my last request
please perform this magic:
make yourself disappear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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279
you have shown me
how to convert
this newspaper strips
into money
how this flower
turns into a white
rabbit
how the rabbit turns
into a hat
then back to a newspaper
strips again
magician, i am tired
of your illusions
how your hands
deftly deceived my
weaker eyes
now i have my last request
please perform this magic:
make yourself disappear.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On the back page of a old newspaper
There’s a newspaper which the wind blows,
round and round
until it hits against me.
I grab it out of the wind
and after getting into my car
I open it on the seat next to me.
I see your photograph
on the back page of a old newspaper
and it says that you live
in another country,
on the other side of the big blue sea.
I wonder what is going on in your world
and when I close the newspaper,
It’s as if you were here with me
for a moment.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Valediction Of The Body For The Soul
I am the body, and you are the soul. I let you in. You are my guest.
Inside my body, you feel what i feel.You know what i know.
What you like i too must like.
What you disgust I too must disgust.
We have become one. Ideally, we go. I go where you go.
I let you stand on my feet
I let you touch the persons and things that you love
Through my Hands.
I am the body and you are the Soul. Inside me
You are my guest. They say that you are more important.
Holier. More wise. Filled with Understanding,
As I let you stay, I have become of lesser importance
To those who worship you, through me.
I am the body, and I have become secondary
to Your importance. But you are just my guest. I have let you in.
Now I demand that you too must respect my flesh,
My bones, My blood. I bleed. You don't. I feel the pain
You don't. I now demand that you too My Soul
Must understand my simple needs. My need for warmth
and Desire.
I am the Body and You are the Soul. I demand respect
and understanding otherwise I may use my power
to Oust You. I still have the power to put an end
To this Body and it is you who must leave.
You must understand me. When I end the life of this Body
As I very well know I can, then you Leave.
I will be left. I may rot. I may turn to Dust. But I have done
what is within my Power.
Respect my little lusts. That is my compromise with You.
Have a little understanding to my confusions.
Bear with Me too. Be my Guest. Be the Good One.
My Soul, My friend, My companion.I am your Faithful Body.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Emily
Now Emily hides in a way
she is waiting for a
knight in shining armor
and I know that nothing I'd say
could make her see me
as a man of honor
but I am
now sometimes I wish she could see through
all the rain and clouds that fill her sky
and know that tomorrow brings with wings
of bird a song to fill her mind
and I am
oh yes I am
[Chorus:]
the one who can sing
all of the dreams
the one who can make them all come true
if she would believe
I'm down on my knees
but in my hands I hold
Now Emily stands at the door
a picture lies in pieces on the floor
the one where we walked on the beach
the wind blew waves
that crashed upon the shore
oh we are
forever more
[Chorus:]
the one who can sing
all of our dreams
the one who can make them all come true
if she would believe
I'm down on my knees
but in my hands I hold
everything that she wants
everything that should be
as far as her
big blue eyes could see
if she would believe
I'm down on my knees
but in my hands I hold
what do you want me to do
my head in my hands
I wait for the words
to come and make you understand
so tell me I'm right
tell me I touched you down
so deep inside
Now Emily hides in a way
she is waiting for a
knight in shining armor
and I know that nothing I'd say
can make her see me
as a man of honor
[Chorus:]
I'm the one who can sing
all of our dreams
the one who can make them all come true
if she would believe
I'm down on my knees
but in my hands I hold
everything that she wants
everything that should be
as far as her
big blue eyes could see
if she would believe
I'm down on my knees
but in my hands I hold
in my hands I hold
the ring
song performed by by Nine Days from So Happily Unsatisfied
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile,
Spreads its curious opinion
To a million merciful and sneering men,
While families cuddle the joys of the fireside
When spurred by tale of dire lone agony.
A newspaper is a court
Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried
By a squalor of honest men.
A newspaper is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.
A newspaper is a game
Where his error scores the player victory
While another's skill wins death.
A newspaper is a symbol;
It is feckless life's chronicle,
A collection of loud tales
Concentrating eternal stupidities,
That in remote ages lived unhaltered,
Roaming through a fenceless world.
poem by Stephen Crane
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No other family
We moved far away
So some people would stay away
I have taken for granted
What family meant to us
Who else are we supposed to trust?
My mother-in-law passed
Her family always came first
I was unable to see
What she meant to me
Then she was gone
Early one dawn
I now understand
What my family means to me
I can’t stand being so far away
No family here to help with the pain
There is nothing here to gain
Too far to visit
Too far to sit
With no family all I have is a pit
All these tears I am unable to even spit
I can just hope all my family can understand
This was not planned
I will never take them for granted
I wish I could visit
I wish I could stay
I miss them all today
poem by Keith Wells
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11thousandth...
i vow my head
to myself and put laurels to my head
and clap my hands
to honor me...
no one offers and no
one dares.
one must understand perfectly
the lonely journey
the little stop on the 11thousandt
poem.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Point Of Disgust
How many times have we gotten to a point of disgust
Where your mind is about to explode
And your heart about to bust.
Every one at one point or another gets to that stage
And we know in our hearts -it's just a phase.
How do we get rid of that pain and emptiness
So deep in your chest
When your mind is blank and needs the rest.
When your chest is like a dam holding
back a river of tears
And your mind is sensing all your fears.
When everything seems to be going wrong
No matter what you do
And you get to this point of disgust
And starting to feel blue.
Where does one end and the other begin?
You have to go through total disgust
Then the depression begins.
(is depression just a point of total disgust?) hmmmm
When I get to that point in life
I pray to GOD to take away this strife
I walk to him with my problems in my hand
Cause I know he understands.
He says 'help yourself and I will help you'
So this is what I do.
I put all my pros and cons in a basket
And bury it in the ground like a casket.
I follow what I have in my heart
Because 'HE ' had put it there from the start.
This point of disgust can play a role in our life
We just have to stop and think twice.
This not only affects you, but all who are around
Creeps up on you without making a sound.
So I'll add that to the basket
With all my pros and cons
And the 'point of disgust' will also be gone.
BYE - BYE
poem by Louis Rams
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Accuracy is to a newspaper what virtue is to a lady, but a newspaper can always print a retraction.
quote by Charles Revson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accuracy to a newspaper is what virtue is to a lady; but a newspaper can always print a retraction.
quote by Adlai E. Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I read no newspaper now but Ritchie's, and in that chiefly the advertisements, for they contain the only truths to be relied on in a newspaper.
quote by Thomas Jefferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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