I have closed that page of my life without rancor. I do not disown any of the work done.
quote by Riccardo Muti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
If You Disown Your Parents
If you disown your father
Then you'll be damned
And you'll be damned indeed!
If you disown your mother
Then you'll be damned,
You'll be damned for that particular deed!
If you disown your father
Just because they're disabled
Will you ever receive a divine blessing?
If you disown your handicapped mother
Your curses will be by God assembled
And your troubles will - like wild fire - be kept blazing...!
If you curse your parents
Whom always you must respect and love,
You'll suddenly fall under bad weather currents
Yet you'll fail to fly and flee like a broken-winged dove.
If you disown the ones who brought you to this earth
Then beware, beware of nature's terror!
If you disown your parents then what you're worth
Will turn towards hassle and horror.
Without your parents where would you now be?
Now that you're famous then you reject them?
Learn to respect and embrace your parents
Nomatter what misfortune did to them,
Even when they do find death in life,
Respect, love and remember them.
poem by Comfort Ndlovu
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Lovingly Do The Work
Work is
Life...
Life is work...
Any work is not
Wrong...
Without work is
Worng...
Human every budy works
Wny way too work...s
Work is making you...
Work is given good life
For you...and your's...
So...
Understand too work
Earn money too work...
Live life with your work...
Love too work...
Learn to do the work...
Lovingely do the work...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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So Young
In the misery dictionary
Page after page after page
In the misery dictionary
Page after page
Where theres life theres gotta be hope
And where theres a will theres a way
One mans in is anothers out
I gotta get out today
Where theres life theres gotta be hope
And where theres a will theres a way
Amid divisions youre so low
You know I gotta get out today
In the misery dictionary
Page after page after page
In the misery dictionary
Page after page
And where theres a will theres a way
song performed by by Stone Roses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Book Of Days
Your life is as a book
Written on the pages are the weeks
For you would give anything to take just one look
Into the next chapter, the next page
Each page is a new thought, a new dream
Sometimes it takes so long to pass that page
And sometimes nothing is as it seams
For you know you can not go ahead or back
You know you are where you are
You know you can't change that
As you read page to page, so near to fear
You write the chapters as you go, with each turn
Each turn, each move changes what's to come
And you know each moment could be the last
With this in mind you go so mumb
So numb to the touch, to the thought
You turn page after page
until you reach the 'end'
And only then, you are freed from the title
The title that has kept your thoughts bound, and tight
You turn the pages one by one
You take the pain, take the joy
Until you are done
And your story becomes another on the shelf of eternity
(1/24/2008)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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I don't write a quick draft and then revise; instead, I work slowly page by page, revising and polishing.
quote by Dean Koontz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Young
In the misery dictionary
Page after page after page
In the misery dictionary
Page after page
Where there's life there's gotta be hope
And where there's a will there's a way
One man's in is another's out
I gotta get out today
Where there's life there's gotta be hope
And where there's a will there's a way
Amid divisions you're so low
You know I gotta get out today
In the misery dictionary
Page after page after page
In the misery dictionary
Page after page
And where there's a will there's a way
song performed by by The Stone Roses from Garage Flower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Work To Work
Happy too
Work...
Un happy too
work...
Love too
Woork...
With out love too
Work...
Silentely work...
Tenson to work...
Peace too work...
Diperession to work...
Work with work...
Any time do any
Work...
Work is give for
Human...
Relax and releave...
Sad too work...
Woory too work...
Work too work...
Work is wondrfully
Changed your and your's life
Each every day
Don't take un wanted rest
With your's lazey...
Lazy making
Sad... dipression...
Tenson...
Useless thinking...
So...
Work is wonder fully
Chnage to change for your's...
Mind and thinking and your's life...
Woo
Work to work with you
And other's...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Next Page
You have dragons on your head and you think that you are wiser,
But the next page of life will let you know that you are a fool! !
For you only honour me with your lips,
And with your heart very far away from me!
In vain you do worship the doctrine of men! !
But the next page of your life has a question mark;
For you think you are wiser than all the people around you.
Your life is like the Babylon Talmud!
And like the acts of the priests around you;
But am attempt to destroy a culture is all that you want,
And like your dirty acts which are now recorded on the next page.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Salutation The Second
You were praised, my books,
because I had just come from the country;
I was twenty years behind the times
so you found an audience ready.
I do not disown you,
do not you disown your progeny.
Here they stand without quaint devices,
Here they are with nothing archaic about them.
Observe the irritation in general:
‘Is this’ they say, 'the nonsense
that we expect of poets?’
'Where is the Picturesque ?'
‘Where is the vertigo of emotion?'
‘No! his first work was the best.’
'Poor Dear! he has lost his illusions.’
Go, little naked and impudent songs,
Go with a light foot!
(Or with two light feet, if it please you!)
Go and dance shamelessly!
Go with an impertinent frolic!
Greet the grave and the stodgy,
Salute them with your thumbs at your noses.
Here are your bells and confetti.
Go! rejuvenate things!
Rejuvenate even 'The Spectator.’
Go! and make cat calls!
Dance and make people blush,
Dance the dance of the phallus
and tell anecdotes of Cybele!
Speak of the indecorous conduct of the Gods!
(Tell it to Mr. Strachey)
Ruffle the skirts of prudes,
speak of their knees and ankles.
But, above all, go to practical people
go! jangle their door-bells!
Say that you do no work
and that you will live forever.
poem by Ezra Pound
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All Day
Well Im hiding my eyes from the morning sun
And I keep on working till the work is all done
But a voice in my head keeps ticking away
As the sweats hosed down from yet another day
Well he works hard
And he lives hard
And he breaks his back without nothing to gain
While the boss man sits around and drinks champagne
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Well Im peeling the blisters off my working hand
Is that what it takes to make you understand?
That its something you read, not something you meant
To be slaving away without a shred of integrity
He worked hard
And he lived hard
And he broke his back without nothing to say
While the man in control was just laughing away
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
Was it something you read?
Was it something you meant?
Was it something you said?
Or was it heaven sent?
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one transition
All day (you work and you work and you work and)
In life, theres just one decision
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Book Of Life
In the book of life
we learn a little
with each page we turn.
We learn a little tolerance
can go a long, long way
along with a little patience
will help us through the day.
In the book of life,
every page has something new
to give our life fulfilment
as each page we journey through.
18 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Four Letter 'Work' Song
Work me up, work me out, work me flip side down.
Work me here, work me there, work me with renown.
Work me hot, work me greedy,
work me through and through.
Work me to the very marrow,
work me just like I'd work you.
Work me proud, work me late,
work me do not hesitate.
Won't you let me work for you?
Work me til I'm black and blue.
Work me steady, work me needy, work me to a lather.
Work me til my backbone breaks, and the buzzards gather.
Work me in, work me under, work me til I bleed,
Work me over red hot coals, work me like a boss in need.
Work me nasty, work me silly, work me through the clover.
Up down, 'n' in between, into a slipknot sweet Jehovah.
Work me, work me, go ahead.
Work me, work me, til I'm dead.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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The Book
Have you ever opened a book?
And feel like it’s your life
As you watch each page go pass
You think where did I get lost
Each chapter is an ending
Of what was or what could have been
But each new chapter a beginning
Brings you hope to live again
But the hardest thing in life
Is as you turn each page
You must learn to pass the pain
That lies between the pages
Each chapter a lesson
In life’s little games
Then we smile at ourselves
As we close the last page
To look forward to anew
Of a new chapter in our life’
We smile and nod
At the new book of life
poem by Kaila George
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You cannot own or disown
Life is not a bed of rose,
Nor a bed of thorn either.
Both mixed, it’s of no use.
Can you own and disown life?
When it pricks is your chance.
02.08.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Can it be Memory, Inspiration, or Figment Causing This?
The poems I write are a story of my life
They are a foreseeable future, a regret filled past
In this they stain, in my poems they stain
The dreams, my ideals, life lessons, and hopes
Flood on to the page waiting to be read
Stranger they become
Stranger to be in my mind
How they come to be there
That bolt of lines that swirl and toil in my mind
They say for my allure, they sway for my attention
'Take me', they cry, 'Take me for your own'
'Release us from here, bring us to life and capture us in
your work! '
'Immortalize us in history on that page! '
They sway faster in an angry tempo
Chanting now on how to be used
Begging, pleading to be used
I grasp the pen and paper
Pull my laptop closer
I write and type as fast as my hands can go
The tempo soothes, and the swaying stops
All is quiet
All is empty
They are released, glorified on this magnificent page.
Written: January 21,2012
poem by Ryan Collins
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With Smiling Closed Lips
God has allowed my life.
With an accepted work ethic.
To do what needs to be done.
And applying effort to it!
My mother taught me this,
As I watched her struggle...
With smiling closed lips.
From plucking feathers off chickens.
To working on her feet,
While completing her duties...
As a hired machinist.
To ensure my sisters and I...
Were sheltered.
Ate!
Clothed and kept clean!
God has allowed my life...
To expose it in composition.
And to do that in a way,
To use praise as the condition.
With smiling closed lips...
Uplifting so much pride,
I have inside!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Players
The summer leaves in autumn fall
covering grass and garden walls.
A passing page on life’s stage
soon forgotten as the next season calls,
a circling unforgiving tide
that carries with it our passing lives.
Players are we upon the stage
of life’s ever turning page.
We live today and pray for tomorrow
that we may again grace the stage
of its next passing page.
And so life goes on
from birth and beyond
as players on the stage of life.
23 June 2009
poem by David Harris
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theme for English B
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it's that simple?
I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem.
I went to school there, then Durham, then here
to this college on the hill above Harlem.
I am the only colored student in my class.
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem,
through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas,
Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y,
the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator
up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It's not easy to know what is true for you or me
at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what
I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you:
hear you, hear me--we two--you, me, talk on this page.
(I hear New York, too.) Me--who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love.
I like to work, read, learn, and understand life.
I like a pipe for a Christmas present,
or records--Bessie, bop, or Bach.
I guess being colored doesn't make me not like
the same things other folks like who are other races.
So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white.
But it will be
a part of you, instructor.
You are white--
yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.
That's American.
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
Nor do I often want to be a part of you.
But we are, that's true!
As I learn from you,
I guess you learn from me--
although you're older--and white--
and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
poem by Langston Hughes
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Ode to a Blank Page
Ode to a blank page
It’s blue seemingly thin lines flying across the page
Each producing a small space to place your thoughts on
Next lies the taunting red margin
Baring how sparsely you’ve done
You can strike the page with a single blow
Leaving a mark that did no good
Ode to a blank page
Why do you stare?
Taunting and shrieking in my ear
Emptiness fills the page
The blanks intimidate even the strong
How strong it is
To give a cut even to the toughest skin
Ode to a blank page
You know I’m jealous
How I despise all your characteristics
poem by Rachele ...duhh
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