I have a lot of hobbies and I can be very remiss in reminding myself to go down to the basement to work.
Related quotes
When your hobbies get in the way of your work - that's OK; but when your hobbies get in the way of themselves... well.
quote by Steve Martin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dont Go In The Basement
Oh..
You can tell a dirty story
In the old conservatory...
But dont go in the basement!
You can make a scene
On the mezanene
But dont go in the basement!
You can fill yourself with static
With the ghosts up in the attic
But dont go in the basement!
You can light yourself a torch
On the old front porch
But dont go in the basement!
Oh you may think that its real cool
To ride down the bannister like some darn fool
Oh dont go... dont go!!
Dont go in the basement!
You can feel quite aloof
Playing rummy on the roof
But dont go in the basement!
Where the cockroaches dance
You can wallow in romance
But dont go in the basement!
You may think that its deluxe
To ride the bannister filled with rust
Oh dont go, dont go!
Dont go in the basement!!!!
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The World Looks Upon Us With Worried Eyes
look at us who want to really finish the work
this afternoon
look at us being looked at the world with
worried eyes
it is reminding that if we finish this work
on time
the work shall soon finish us
earlier than expected
look at this world that looks down upon us
it is not sleeping
it keeps reminding that there is no apocalypse
of earth and rock
the sun will always be there until it finds us all gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alright
Shes always reminding me that things are gonna be alright.
Yes, shes always beside me.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
Im so confused.
Shes not amused.
cause I do way too much thinking.
Its not supposed to be this hard.
So, she calls me out and theres no doubt that I do way too much drinking.
I guess its got me through this far.
When my life gets crazy, she can still amaze me.
Sometimes I think, hell, whats the use of going on?
But, shes always reminding me that things are gonna be alright.
Yes, shes always beside me.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
I heard the news.
I just refuse to believe that we were sinking.
Still cant believe they went that far.
So, I start to shout, but Im all cried out and still doing way too much thinking.
Cant seem to scrape away those scars. no.
And, if my life gets crazy, she can still amaze me.
Sometimes I think, hell, whats the use of going on?
But, shes always reminding me that things are gonna be alright.
Yes, shes always beside me.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright. alright.
I think I can finally see what shes been telling me.
Its all inside my head.
I guess I knew it all along.
And, shes always reminding me that things are gonna be alright.
Yes, shes always beside me.
She keeps reminding me that its all in me.
But, shes always reminding me that things are gonna be alright.
Yes, shes always beside me.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
She keeps reminding me that everything will be alright.
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hobbies for lonely people
Hobbies don't help people
Much.
Lonely people don't care about collectibles and such.
They want to meet people.
Hobbies don't help people
As such.
If only lonely people got interested in poetry writing and such,
They would end up meeting nice people.
Hobbies could help lonely people
A bunch.
If lonely people got interested in something much
That would put them in contact with lots of people.
poem by Lonely People Champion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Small Dirge for a Frog
A surge through
Heart’s drapes.
Escapes to hear
A small dirge.
A miss me song for a frog.
Caught on the wrong side
Of a Goodyear. I was remiss
In not seeing.
Not to flee the burgeoning kiss
Of vulcanized and headlamp urgency,
This frog was remiss.
Remiss those focused frogs,
Fraught with patience, are.
You played a game of chicken
Too well, not looking or knowing
The knowing or looking
Of me. You don’t look so well.
The wind rushes past the side
-view. It holds my long look
For a few. Until night’s drapes
Dim a hard gleam from its two
Eyes, each a candle wick
Just blown out.
[11-7-03 Berkeley, CA]
poem by David Floren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hobbies
Don't you just love it
When your doing your hobbies
They seem to be so much fun
They let you escape for a while
But doesn't it seem ironic
When peopole make money off them
Does that mean they're having fun
And that they never work
poem by Jerry Abrahamson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Under Hobbies And Interests
This could be a good idea for those competitive,
And considering as a device to separate themselves...
From those also seeking employment,
A doing of something that is guaranteed...
To get one attention and an interview for a job.
One should list under 'Hobbies and Interests'.
Of having to take isolation days,
For the purpose to relax and clear one's head.
That's right.
Isolation Days
Try it.
In nothing else...
This will prove to anyone reviewing a resume,
That the one applying for a position is loyal and dedicated.
And is flexible and can multi-task under pressure.
Without the use of a weapon sought to ease frustration.
Or frightening fellow employees with a demostration,
By coming into work one day looking totally crazed,
And armed.
Yes...
Under 'Hobbies and Interests',
List those isolation days you have experienced and taken.
Let them know who you are from the beginning,
To avoid them selecting someone who can dress to impress...
But suppresses a killer instinct.
Let them know you come in peace,
And can be expected to leave that way...
No matter who has been discovered to be incompetent.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lost To You
Roses climb the wall outside your room
Sweet scent floats through the window
Reminding you of me and what you’ve lost
The satin covered sheets upon which you lay
Softness beyond compare
Reminding you of me and what you’ve lost
The wild waves crash against your shore
Untamed, implacable, relentlessly pounding
Reminding you of me and what you’ve lost
A free spirit flows forever young
Untethered
Without restraint
Unencumbered
Free to be
yet
Lost to you
poem by Rose Falcone
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blessing Of Red Flower Promises
red flower blooms by schedule of lunar moon
red flower is blessing not curse of lunar moon
reminding new life waits to seed into life bloom
reminding life potential God given fades to soon
reminding each month carries hope new moon
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I liked to work in a shop down in the basement and invent things and build gadgets.
quote by Francis Ford Coppola
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fire In The Basement
(blackmore/glover/turner/lord/paice) 4.43
I came round to your front door, your back door was locked
Pushed your button, rang your bell, you didnt hear me knock
I saw your window open wide, so I crawled inside
I ran to the top floor, but you were on the ground
I was on my way up and you were going down
Fire in the basement
Burn me up, scream and shout
Theres fire in the basement
Only you can put it out
This strange sensation that Im going through
Sweet infatuation when I get next to you
I know what it takes to be a man, you understand
cause when the sparks start flying youll never be the same
You know Ill hate to leave you girl but Im so glad I came
Fire in the basement
Burn me up, scream and shout
Fire in the basement
Only you can put it out
Smoky eyes burning bright
Innocence lost, satisfy my appetite
Surrender to the flame, whats your name
Lets get down to business, how can you refuse
Give this boy a helping hand, come on light my fuse
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Arbeit Macht Frei
Dark days are all I have
They took my will, soul, and life
I sleep only to awake in a nightmare
Trapped behind black gates
Reminding work will set me free
Broke my back, but I have to work
It's not my choice for I am a slave
I pray for death, hoping heaven awaits
I'm alive but in a man made hell
Maybe work will set me free?
I'm cursing God
He has forsaken us
If we're his children, then why let us suffer?
I hold so much rage and hate within
But I'm just tired of my life
Can my work be done?
I smell the infernos of hell
Maybe they'll take me to my family?
My freedom is finally in sight
The deep sleep is near
It is true; work brings freedom thorugh the chimney
poem by J.D. Decker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Payment
A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.
I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.
I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.
Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’
I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
O how I
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
work work work work work work work work
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Work, Sleep, Work, Sleep, Work
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work:
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work, sleep, work, sleep,
Work.
Oh free me please with gentle ease
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work!
This odium, pounding tedium
Of my work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
Just whisk me off to lands afar
From work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
That grinding train of rhythmic pain
Called ‘Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.’
Poor neural circuits fizzle and pop
In work, sleep, work, sleep, work,
In trying to make some sense of all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
But Hark! I see a golden gleam -
A saving spirit of hope:
‘You’re fired! ’ He screams. What news to bear,
This wondrous hangman’s rope!
So now I’m free, released from all this
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work -
Eternal peace and rest for me, no
Work, sleep, work, sleep, work.
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Until We With Death Travel
Far and wide we have gone,
searching the greener of life;
we toss our efforts to be anew bone
for our humble hobbies of our future lives.
All around we have struggl’d
to see our future bright,
being perfect’d by our Mak’r’s struggle
in His Glorious Heav’nly posture in bright.
Sleepless we work,
working to bett’r our expos’d marrows,
but leaving the rest to our Creator
until we with Death travel.
poem by Eche Ononukwe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Walking the Path
i used to meditate
early in the morning
down on the basement
of the old house
on Bethel Rd
that we rented years ago...
there was a rabbit
that sometimes hopped
through the open basement door
to sit close to me...
and listened as i chanted.
i almost found it then!
years have passed,
times of struggle and loss...
(i almost lost my way)
now i sit here at night
thinking about the precepts,
reading poetry, just thinking....
or not thinking at all!
with an old blind dog...
walking the path...
to the temple again!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We keep on postponing
The old door of the
Out house made a
Creaking sound
Whenever somebody
Opened or closed it
Always reminding
To take care of it
Nobody
Bothered to listen
What it was saying
Everybody knew
If the door was not there
The outhouse
Would become
Unsafe and useless
It seemed as if
Everybody was waiting
For its break down
Many a times
We do this in our life
Do not care for
Important things
By some way or other
They keep reminding
Again and again
We keep on postponing
Take care only
When they become
Urgent
08-03-2012
328-62-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I have worked all of my life, so I really don't have any hobbies.
quote by Steven Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!