A man who works with his hands is a laborer; a man who works with his hands and his brain is a craftsman; but a man who works with his hands and his brain and his heart is an artist.
quote by Louis Nizer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Limit
Tempo!
Limit;
My brain,
Your brain,
Einstein's brain! !
In common,
But, to drive us apart with negative minds.
Tempo!
Limit;
My brain,
Your brain,
Einstein's brain! !
In common,
But to hold us together with positive works.
Toad, load, road, broad!
Ignominious,
Tent, intent;
test, attest;
Mutter, butter, cutter, utter, gutter, putter! !
But, let us all try to do positive works only in this life.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Trouble With Never
(track 1 - time 4:14)
(tony martin/mark nesler)
If I never think about her, Ill never miss her at all
Never wonder what shes doin, never give her a call
Never see her again and Ill be free as a bird
But the trouble with never is never, never works
If I never bring her flowers, Ill never see her smile
If I never try to kiss her, shell never drive me wild
And Ill never feel the need to say those three little words
But the trouble with never is never, never works
I know how to stay carefree, let no one get a hold on me
But I cant keep my hands off her
Theres something different bout this girl
If I never let me love her, Ill never settle down
And Ill never put roots in this God forsaken town
And Ill never say I do or step foot in a church
But the trouble with never is never, never works
I know how to stay carefree, let no one put a hold on me
But I cant keep my hands off her
Theres something different bout this girl
If I never think about her, Ill never miss her at all
Never wonder what shes doin, never give her a call
Never see her again, and Ill be free as a bird
Oh, but the trouble with never is never, never works
Yeah, the trouble with never is never, never works
At least not with her
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She Works Hard For The Money
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything
Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there
It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times
She'll never sell out
she never will
not for a dollar bill
she works hard
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
song performed by by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think one of things is that all fantasy it seems to me works the way your brain basically works. This is perhaps a startling concept, but I think it's true.
quote by Diana Wynne Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dreamed.... (Hands)
i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.
hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!
hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....
whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My heart is my hands
My hands
Is
Only my hands...
Not for
your hands....
So...
I want too work
My hands...
I want too serve
My hands...
I want to do about
Somthing of my
Hands...
My hands is
Free for only
Sleeping time only...
my hands is
working all the times
My hands not only
Hands...
It is human workers...
Allways for my friends...
My hands...is my heart...
My heart is my hands.....
Ok...How is your hands...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haruna
Another panellist,
Substantiated,
Difficulty,
Commenting,
Works,
Suddenly!
But i have some substantial lead on this case like that of Haruna your friend;
Furthermore, do expect me to restate the legal maxim! !
For your notes are now in my hands,
And like a teacher who is about to go through the works of a students.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The brain makes you perish.
An autocrat brain works fast,
Senses no danger and sooner
Would perish..
A democrat brain balances
Its move to reactions and soon
Would perish.
A monarch brain stays up,
Earns name and in saving it,
Would perish.
A slavery brain toils,
Lags behind and later
Would perish.
Your brain is the cause
Of your disaster.
25.12.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Tees spoon
Hand is
Use for eat...
Ok...
Wash every time
At your's hands...
At every works...
Wash your's hands...
Clean...
with clean...
Wash And eat food...
Tell about your children
Today...
Wash hands
And eat...
You are lazy
Don't wash
Your hands...
Use tees spoon...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O...what...?
women are
works...
with over the world...
very heary hard...
men also works...
but womens works many...
in house...
in office....
in others...
all wys womens
works...
over then men...
with vey hard works...
but...
money earn
men will bee high
women will bee low...
what is this...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life is pretty simple: You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.
quote by Leonardo da Vinci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is pretty simple You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.
quote by Thomas Peters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Lady The Taxi Driver!
My lady the taxi driver!
Driving so fast to take me to my destination;
For, the muse of my love was in your hands,
And, you were ready to take me along.
My lady the taxi driver!
With the works of your hands and,
Of the muse of your love;
But, you were ready to take me along.
To my destination,
With the works of joy! !
And, i do thank you for everything;
Because, you were able to take me along.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Show Love To All
Of joy!
Of love,
Of care,
With your words! !
On the earth,
Of the showers,
And of peace;
Like the fat sheep and the lean goat.
The residence,
The pasture,
The rich,
The poor,
Of the pure words,
By the rivers;
of your pure works! !
With alertness;
And like the hands of love.
The hands of unity,
The hands of care,
The hands of peace,
But, free to choose!
This very way and of that positive direction;
However, it is better to show love to all.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Respect the doer of mean works
Respect them who do works
That demand no respects
More than them who do works
That command reverence.
Not prepared for such works
That are held low or mean,
You must at least respect
Them who do men works to you.
As a doctor serves you
A barber too serves you.
As a teacher serves you
A sweeper too serves you.
06.02.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woodcarver
the Woodcarver works
in the morning stillness,
with chisel and blade
and an eye for intimate detail...
sunlight sifts through the windows,
time caught, a butterfly in the hand
that's careful not to close...
no extravagant movements...
nothing left undone...
life, a bare bulb, almost
too hot to touch...
the hands of the spirit tell all...
with a gentle blade,
sharp as death, yet allowing...
He unveils your heart
in the stillness of an empty room.
the Woodcarver works...
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Way The World Works
the world works with trageties and happieness to bad the children don't know it or care for it but that one incodent can change a childs life the world works in a mist of war ad peace death and life the world works with everyone this is how it works our world moves from one shooting to a bombing what is going on with our people why must we act like dip shyts over nothing without war we have peace and without peace we have war but our world runs off both if you understand what is going on in the world can someone please tell our president he has no idea about how the world works to him it all war death and money
poem by Ian Singer
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If you are dyslexic, your eyes work fine, your brain works fine, but there is a little short circuit in the wire that goes between the eye and the brain. Reading is not a fluid process.
quote by Bruce Jenner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes It Is Really Hard To Understand
she works with us as our domestic helper
her father is 35 her mother is 34 and there
are twelve of them in the family in that far
away mountain,50 kilometers from here
her brother works as a laborer in that
copra buyer a few meters from here and
he just met an accident and he is sent
to the hospital because he finds it hard
to breathe and he cannot speak a word.
her sister is pregnant with a new baby and
the wife of the master drives her away and
she has no place to stay & nowhere to go.
she wants to tell more sad stories about her
family but i tell her to stop. I do not want to know.
I look up to the sky, and I know God is listening.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Stalemate
I do not give thanks to the hands that feed me
I work for those
Hands anyway
Writing his letters
His own contents
Not to my delight
I love somebody else, her hands are soft
Her thoughts so graceful
Touching me
Penetrating the deepest recesses of my brain
My soul jumps with joy
To the sight of her,
She eats me, I am half-consumed yet I
Sing of her
Kiss her all day
Yet what does she give me?
This death unto myself,
The hands that feed me caress me to no end
Helping me live, I understand this kindness perfectly
How I wish to love the feeding hands
How I wish to reeducate myself & learn to live on these hands
I am hardheaded, as always thinking about her all day all night long.
The heart has its own foolish reasons, while the feeding hands
Are patient, and silent, understanding my true longings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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