Unlike most other children, - especially unlike those of today - who are eager to become men and women as speedily as possible, I had a terror of growing up, which became more and more accentuated as I grew older.
quote by Pierre Loti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Like or unlike
Like the yellow leaves melting softly,
Or unlike the blue wind blowing loudly;
Like the frost with no power of keeping the life,
Or unlike the warmth allowing the life to rise; ,
Like a dying time in a scarlet autumn
Or unlike the birth of life in the green spring;
Like thinking of temporary in the elderly,
Or unlike the youth thinking of their lasting life; ,
Like the innocence sighing in the bleeding love ruins
Or unlike the guiltiness laughing in the richness of bloody hate.
.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Blue film- a needed media
Blue film: it is handier
Than the red light area.
It serves as direct stimulus
Unlike the yellow magazine.
It is decent unlike the green talk.
The impotent becomes the potent.
The temper-less becomes full of temper.
Blue film is useful only to man.
Half of men population has seen.
Elders out number youngsters.
Unlike men, women aren’t affected.
No stimulation from the blue.
For her the last is sex.
For him the peak is sex.
Only man worries from love failure.
24.04.2002, pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Grooming makes one pleasing.
An ass is ugly, not for his nose.
He is lazy unlike the horse.
A crow is ugly, not for his black
But for his voice, unlike the koel’s.
An eagle is ugly, not for his beak,
But for his menace, unlike the parrot.
No matter how you are made,
You can make yourself lovable.
19.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Groundless fear
Most of the snakes aren’t venomous
Unlike what we suppose them to be.
Most of the women aren’t adulterous
Unlike what we suppose them to be.
Yet, men are insecure and suspicious..
14.05.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Mind That Is Inside Your Skull
it is small
your stomach i am sure
is bigger
unlike your feet
it does not travel
unlike your eyes
it does not close
it is there
even in your dreams
your imagination
travels like the wind
to lands unknown
when you are hurt
the mind finds shelter in reason
unlike the heart
that weeps until all the tears
run dry
the mind is here but its essence
is out there groping in the dark
dancing with the winds
of change
sunbathing like you
wanting also
a little
tan.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Sin of You and I
I am arrogant.
I am patriotic.
I am a capitalist snob.
I am rude to others.
I am a melting pot.
I cannot travel anywhere and receive respect.
I am unlike You.
You are humble.
You are faithless.
You are full of charity.
You are overly polite.
You are a tossed salad.
You can travel anywhere with utmost respect.
You are unlike I and unlike They
They are ignored.
They are environmentalists.
They are individually selfless.
They are peaceful… but,
They are sure to make their voices heard everywhere.
They have always been.
They are mistreated by You and I
poem by Magnus Tukkonen
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The Beginning of My Notes
I live and think live
though think die - still I live
speak that death fears me not
truth - fear every day
when death comes, will these thoughts and dreams ever be known?
I want to leave my legacy
and let my world be shown
today I act unlike tomorrow
three days unlike last week
poem by D.M.L. Catseye
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Women’s attitude towards men
Women do talk as much about men as
Men do about them and as much in
description as men do, though much is
satire, unlike that of men.
Women value men as much, for their
Sincerity, as men value women for their honesty.
Women are drawn to men as much
For cleanliness as women to men for confidence.
Women want men to revolve around them
More than men want, and desire to be
Seen by men as womanly rather than motherly.
Thus a survey indicates for men to take some clues from.
19.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I have takers
My skin is dark unlike yours.
My breasts are small unlike yours.
I am equally proud of mine
As I have a crowd whose taste I suit.
23.03.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Star Alone Star
star
alone star
shining, twinkling, moving
just being what you are;
star alone star
though watching minds make of you a meaning
a wish, or a symbol
but alone star you are simply what you are;
star alone star
unlike men, women
unlike intelligence that must form and associate
who must be this or that
conditioned and grown and nurtured
and shaped
and programmed;
but you star
alone star
not like this or that
but simply natural, what you are
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Quell the temptation
Pilferage requires little strategy,
Unlike the stealing of the valuable.
Profiting from the mistakes of others,
Unlike the cheating, needs little efforts.
Virtue forbids such temptation; obey.
19.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Unlike An Image To Fit
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.
I've received my independence,
With...
No problem with it.
And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.
With,
No intercept...
To agree or, not to accept.
And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.
With,
No intercept...
To agree or, not to accept.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.
I've received my independence,
With...
No problem with it.
And I've learned to not to resent,
Changes...
Manifested.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
With a wish to get to know me...
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Do you want to get to know,
What it is that makes me tick?
Unlike,
An image to fit.
Unlike,
An image to fit.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Need For Words Like These
This time unlike those we have passed...
Like the blooming of fresh scented Spring flowers.
I will stop to express my gratitude to you.
This time,
As time speeds with such a lightening burst...
I will not question or rehearse my comments,
Or response.
In a hesitated wait.
To click on to light the room,
From a dusted ceiling sconce.
I wish to see your smile sparkle.
Those 'opportunities' must now be taken.
No hour is promised for anyone to fake!
Or hesitate until it is too late.
To say an appreciation for those moments...
Shared.
As we both experience this blessing,
We call life.
And lived as we know it 'now'...
Dared. It seems!
This time unlike those we have passed,
Flying by so fast.
Is that time we have...
Today right now as it is grasped.
Unlike dreams that go for some untouched.
To say what is in our hearts to be spoken.
Before it too slips from our reach...
With that need for words like these,
To be expressed and heard.
Without desparing from those wishes,
We had said them often.
But never too much!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Schools Of Fish
there is no way to call the fish
to swim to your shore
you are never the sea never the ocean
you are an island
and they are not part of your place
in schools they come and in schools they go
they are always gone
unlike you, so much unlike you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children are today.
Children are today, Too outspoken for their age,
Some of their attitude stinks, and they have too much rage;
When we as adults grew up years ago, learnt to behave,
We respected the older folk, and no drugs did we crave.
Some children today, through abuse, and neglect,
Are hurting inside them, what they need is hard to detect;
They need guidance, love, understanding and care,
They need to be shown that someone will be there.
Children today, are expected to grow up too quick,
Taught to much, far too early, so wrong things they'll pick;
And as they grow, let them grow slowly at their own pace,
Let them be children while they can, and give them space.
poem by Margaret Haig
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My time is short.
My time is short I'm growing old.
The years pass by so speedily
Each day is worth much more than gold.
I greet each morning thankfully.
But time moves on remorselessly
.Although my memories enfold
My youthful days effortlessly.
My time is short I'm growing old.
Long ago when young and bold
I faced the future fearlessly
Perceptions changed as I grew old.
The years pass by so speedily.
I made my way successfully
And I grew rich as I grew old.
But life experience has taught me
Each day is worth much more than gold.
Time - cannot be bought or sold.
Time must onward steadily.
As the passing years unfold
I greet each morning thankfully
I've learned the only certainty.
Applying to both young and old
Both must accept reality.
My future can now be foretold.
My time is short Monday,16 April 2012
.
My time is shortMonday,16 April 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Man is pathetic
Man, unlike other mammals, is pathetic
As he has to spend his libido without sex
By seeing women or their images
Or reading about women and their love.
16.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is Democracy Worth Keeping?
In monarch unlike in democracy,
No faction dominates.
The king earns to run the state,
Unlike the elected who earn to flee.
The majority rules in a democracy,
Where form the wise as minority.
(06.01.2003)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The curiosity
You aren’t worthier than mine
But unlike him, new to me.
So I admit you
You aren’t prettier than mine
But unlike her, new to me.
So I reach you.
Curiosity brings two sexes together.
18.12.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Iii
Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart !
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing. Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me,
A poor, tired, wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress tree ?
The chrism is on thine head,--on mine, the dew,--
And Death must dig the level where these agree.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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