Especially in the last 10 years, the writing on animated shows has jumped by leaps and bounds.
quote by Will Friedle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earth Hour
by leaps and bounds
the world has progressed
since the industrial revolution
men's life expectancy
has increased so many years
by leaps and bounds too
we seem to be heading
towards a crash between
our own survival and
that of mother earth
earth hour - giving ourselves
and earth - a break
even in this darkness,
earth cools down to lift us
up in a warm efferverscent cheer
we cant help but shed tears
for what we had done to mother earth
and vow to light the coming years
in the darkness of our rooms
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Obviously, CGI in the last ten years has gone through such leaps and bounds that today, people are looking for these kinds of movies to wow audiences with technology.
When more is less
Could be better to write more
And perhaps to post less?
And after writing more, be sure
To only post one’s best?
Could it be
That the quality
Might improve
by leaps and bounds
Or would it be,
that quantity
Is more important
Than the sounds?
At any rate
It’s ne’er too late
To reread what it tis
That one’s written
Aye, ere one posts in haste…
Give to us the fine taste
Of only the best…
That you’ve written
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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After Bruno Walter, my career went in leaps and bounds. I have had 35 years of a career that is just incredible, and a wonderful time all over the world.
quote by Maureen Forrester
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nature does not proceed by leaps and bounds.
quote by Carolus Linnaeus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bottom line is the Kiss Army is growing by leaps and bounds.
quote by Ace Frehley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I want to be an animated character. I'm also doing more writing and directing.
quote by Illeana Douglas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thank You For Writing A Poem For Me
i am your fan
many years and more years to come
i shall remain
your avid fan
thank you for writing me a poem
about love
and sleepless nights
thank you for writing about the ward
the man bound in
straitjacket
that glass of water that has to be taken everyday
to slide the pills smoothly
in your throat
thank you for writing about the children
who shall still find their mothers
their homes
thank you for bearing with us all these years
when we ourselves
have nothing to write anymore
thank you for being there
always and forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man bojangles and he'd dance for you,
In worn out shoes,
With silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pants
The old soft shoe.
He jumped so high, jumped so high
Then he'd lightly touch down.
I met him in a cell in new orleans, i was down and out.
He looked to me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out
He talked of life, talked of life, he laughed, slapped his leg a step
(chorus)
He said his name "bojangles" then he danced a lick across the cell
He grabbed his pants, a better stance, o he jumped so hi, & he clicked his heels
He let go a laugh, let go a laugh, shook back his clothes all around
(chorus)
He danced for those at minstrel shows & county fairs,
Throughout the south
He spoke with tears of 15 years how his dog and him traveled about.
His dog up and died, up and died, after 20 years he still grieves.
(chorus)
He said i dance now at every chance in honky tonks for drinks and tips
But most the time i spend behind these county bars cause i drinks a bit
He shook his head, and as he shook his head i heard someone ask him please
(chorus)
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life expectancy would grow by leaps and bounds if green vegetables smelled as good as bacon.
quote by Doug Larson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Sin is Sin Always
Nothing's a sin-with time all men may think,
And brush aside the guilt when they may err;
Yet, everything in life, you cannot drink;
All fragrant things are not frankincense, Myrrh.
May be, the world has changed by leaps and bounds;
The stress of recent years is great, truly;
To commit mortal sins, man has no grounds;
The conscience tells things so correctly.
No human heart can stone become with years;
No sin can change its definition with time;
Noise can't become music to deafened ears;
A Rhyme perfect will always be a Rhyme.
Can Heaven take all souls, both pure, impure?
A fall in standards, Earth too can't endure.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- Sin Is Sin Always
Nothing's a sin-with time all men may think,
And brush aside the guilt when they may err;
Yet, everything in life, you cannot drink;
All fragrant things is not frankincense, Myrrh.
May be, the world has changed by leaps and bounds;
The stress of recent years is great, truly;
To commit mortal sins, man has no grounds;
The conscience tells things so correctly.
No human heart can stone become with years;
No sin can change its definition with time;
Noise can't become music to deafened ears;
A Rhyme perfect will always be a Rhyme.
Can Heaven take all souls, both pure, impure?
A fall in standards, Earth too can't endure.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr. Bojangles
I knew a man, Bojangles and he danced for you
In worn out shoes
Silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants
The old soft shoe
He jumped so high
He jumped sp high
Then he'd lightly touch down
I met him in a cell in New Orleans, I was
Down and out
He looked to me to be the eyes of age
As he spoke right out
He talked of life
He talked of life
He laughed, clicked his heels and stepped
He said his name, Bojangles and he danced a lick
Across the cell
He grabbed his pants, a better stance
Oh, he jumped so high
Then he clicked his heels
He let go a laugh
He let go a laugh
Pushed back his clothes all around
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Dance
He danced for those in minstral shows and county fairs
Throughout the south
He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and him
Traveled about
The dog up and died
He up and died
After twenty years he still grieves
He said I dance now at every chance in honky tonks
For drinks and tips
But most the time I spend behind these county bars
He said I drinks a bit
He shook his head
And as he shook his head
I heard someone ask him please
Please
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles
Dance
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day A Hungry Fox
One day, a hungry fox,
Saw a high vineyard.
It was full of sweet grapes,
He might not have, he feared.
They were hanging in such
A height, that he jumped
And jumped, but couldn't get.
He had to remain starved,
Again he jumped, and jumped,
And went on jumping ever.
But all his efforts were in vain,
He failed to touch that cluster.
Being upset, he got angry
As he wasted his hour.
Before leaving out of pain,
He said--Grapes are very sour!
poem by Nilakshi Das
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I always enjoyed writing. I did playlets in high school, I did radio shows in college. That's one of the reasons I went down to Second City, because you could do acting and writing.
quote by Dan Castellaneta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Come Alive In Writing
I come alive in writing
Even if the writing means nothing to anyone else-
I come alive in writing
Even if I am totally deluding myself as to its value-
I come alive in writing
Even if at times while writing there is an underlying hopelessness and despair -
I come alive in writing
As if writing is what God has given me to do-
I come alive in writing
As if through it I can truly give to and help others-
I come alive in writing
As if life has meaning through it-
I come alive in writing
Even when I sense the writing is not good or great
As I would wish it to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mr Bojangles
This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the whose garden was this? album, and has also been released on the changes album.
Knew a man bojangles and he danced for you
In worn out shoes
Silver hair ragged shirt and baggy pants
The old soft shoe
He jumped so high
He jumped so high
And hed lightly touched down
Mr bojangles mr bojangles mr bojangles dance
Met him in a cell
New orleans he was down and out
He looked to me to be the eyes of age as he
He spoke right out
He talked about life
He talked of life
He lightly slapped his leg instead
He said the name bojangles and he danced a lick
Across the cell
He grabbed his pants and took a stance
And he jumped so high
He clicked his heels
And he let go a laugh
He let go a laugh
Shook his clothes all around
Mr bojangles mr bojangles mr bojangles dance
We danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs
Throughout the south
We spoke in tears of fifteen years
How his dog and him
They travelled about
The dog up and died
He up and died
After twenty years he still grieves
They said I dance now at every chance and honky tonks
For drinks and tips
But most the time I spend behind these county bars
Cause I drinks a bit
And he shook his head now
He shook his head
And I heard someone ask please
Mr bojangles mr bojangles hey mr bojangles dance
Words and music by walker
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To fail at the great is greater
I had made several leaps and
The fruit stayed too high to reach.
Had I aimed at those with in my reach
I would have got as many as my leaps.
Losing the formidable is worth many leaps.
21.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Leaps
She leaps into the alien heart
of the passerby, the drunk,
the girl who spouts Freudian talk
over Szechuan food.
She is part herself,
part everyone.
'Thank you for writing the story of my life,'
her mash notes read.
& 'Can you tell me how to leave my husband?'
& 'Can you tell me how to find a husband?'
& 'Can you tell me how to write,
or how to feel,
or how to save my life?'
She knows nothing
but how to leap.
She has no answers for herself
or anyone.
One foot after another,
she flies through the air. . . .
She leaps over cracks
& breaks
her father's back.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rat In The Bottle
Wet.
Calm.
Pacing around.
Hatching plans.
Lonely.
Quiet.
Pacing around.
Hatching plans.
Suddenly,
he jumped.
Jumped again
and again.
He looked up,
the top was far.
Accepting his fate,
he laid low.
Suddenly,
he jumped.
Jumped again
and again not retiring.
The bottle fell.
He ran.
Swiftly.
He ran.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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