I think and think for months and years. Ninety-nine times, the conclusion is false. The hundredth time I am right.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Ninety-nine lies may help you, but the hundredth will give you away.
Even after killing ninety nine tigers the Maharaja should beware of the hundredth.
quote by Kalki Krishnamurthy
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Logic vs Intuition
Premise:
All roses are flowers
Some flowers fade quickly
Some have stems smooth
Some have stems prickly
Conclusion: valid or not? (True of false)
Therefore: some roses fade quickly.
Don’t be too smug
Don’t answer to slickly
The conclusion like most
Can be answered too quickly
The correct logical conclusion
To most people is lost
For the answer in (intuitive confusion)
Is inherently and most logically… false
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.
quote by Edgar Allan Poe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred
To all those who have read my poems,
this poem is just for you.
This is my hundredth poem this year
and I feel like celebrating too.
You see for years and years,
I did not want to write anymore,
until I came along here and met all of you.
For some reason I cannot explain,
you took me under your poetic wing.
You made me want to write again,
with your comments by the score.
You brought life back to me,
took my hand,
and guided me from the wilderness,
from which I ran.
You gave me injection,
and my confidence once more flowed.
My pen was put to paper again,
and out the poems came,
one after the other,
but never one the same.
I took a little time out to write a novel too.
All this and more is all thanks to you.
Without that hand of friendship,
which you’ve all shown to me,
I’d still be wandering like a lost soul,
in that wilderness out there.
Therefore, I am taking this opportunity
with this my hundredth poem this year,
to send you a special thanks,
from the bottom of my heart,
to each and every one of you out there.
poem by David Harris
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The Ninety-Ninety Rule of Project Schedules - the first ninety percent of the task takes ninety percent of the time, and the last ten percent takes the other ninety percent.
quote by Arthur Bloch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A hundredth of a second here, a hundredth of a second there - even if you put them end to end, they still only add up to one, two, perhaps three seconds, snatched from eternity.
quote by Robert Doisneau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Their Marriage Vows
Through bad times and good times they'd remain as man and wife
In their marriage vows they vowed it would be for life
On their wedding day some five years ago
But from each other far apart they did grow
Just five years ago he called her his rose
Now divorced and both remarried that's life one must suppose
The bond of love suppose between them not strong
Both their loyalties nowadays to another belong
Their marriage vows the bad times did not survive
'Twas only in good times their love it did thrive
Nowadays when they meet they look the other way
To each other they do not have anything to say
In their eighteen months of marriage there were twelve months of strife
And shattered the vows that were taken for life.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Forever—it composed of Nows
624
Forever—it composed of Nows—
'Tis not a different time—
Except for Infiniteness—
And Latitude of Home—
From this—experienced Here—
Remove the Dates—to These—
Let Months dissolve in further Months—
And Years—exhale in Years—
Without Debate—or Pause—
Or Celebrated Days—
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Domini's—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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June And July
June and July are right in the middle
Of a time that is a period to learn.
The months of our summer in this land
I call England,
Are like these months.
The other months work for these ones,
And those ones that are not these two months
Still believe in the sun and moon and planets.
They trust the stars, walk in the mind
And state our successes, in all our graveness.
The grave has no month, but lives in years
To manage the time in heaven.
For some June is like July,
But I think what they look is what they are.
poem by Naveed Akram
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99 Lbs
Written by: d. bryant
Twenty-five pounds of pure cane sugar
Shes got in each and every kiss
You wouldnt know what Im talking bout
If you never had a love like this
Well, I dont mean to be frank with you all
Its a natural fact
Good things come wrapped up in small, small packages now
Well you cant argue with that
Oh, oh, yeah
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul, oh, oh
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Twenty-five pounds of tenderness
She got in each and every touch
Twenty-five pounds of understanding my woman
cause I was the one running round town worrying too much
Twenty-four pounds of sunday
That I cant see, yeah
And it all adds up to ninety-nine big pounds
Oh, Im talking about a feline friend
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
Ninety-nine pounds of natural born goodness
Ninety-nine pounds of soul
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nine Hundred And Ninety Nine
NINE HUNDRED AND NINETY NINE
When you are done
With a thousand gals!
You might wave
Wave the triumph card
For faking to
Faking to nine hundred and ninety nine
But i`ll still be THE ONE
The one clad in white
Not to boast of honesty nor candor
But to see you scream
Scream for peace and tranquility! !
You`ll never be fanatic nor crazy
But you`ll yowl bawl and wail
For stillness and serenity!
But your mind will never
Never ever sit in peace
Cause you had killed the nine hundred and ninety nine
Who longed to live on this lovely mother earth! !
When the seven hundredth suicide happened
You wandered for the seven hundred one
& when her parents pulled her from the ocean of death
You found the seven hundred and second one! !
When she went to the psychiatry ward
You caught hold of the seven hundred and third!
When she refused her love
You wailed like a toddler
She took you by her arms
But was forced to take a rope
Cause she knew you bore skin of lust & lust only
But your search went on & on
Till at nine hundred and ninty nine
& your mind screamed
Screamed for peace and tranquility!
I will not be the nine hundred and ninety nineth
But am I in the thousand who thought
Thought that you were all love! !
But i`l stay ………. Stay in silence
Till the nine hundred and ninety nine souls
Nine hundred and ninety nine souls
Will pinch every cell of yours! !
No tears will wash your sorrow
No words will lessen your pain! !
But i`ll be the nine hundered and ninety nineth
To see you bawl
Bawl for peace and tranquility!
There i`l remove my robes
Robes of honesty for you to hang
Or i`ll hang you in my rope of honesty!
poem by Dr DHANA LAKSHMI
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The sad times
The sad times come to stay
There never far away
Seconds and minutes away
Hours and days away
Weeks and months away
Years and tears away
It is just a sad time away
From being sad all day
It comes as sad as it could
Anytime, anywhere, anyhow
Giving me a new identity
It is sad in all colours
Sad times to me reminds
Of happy times filled by smiles
Of love in the afterlife
Of happiness in sadness
Today I think Ill be sad
Tomorrow Is sure to be just as bad
I wonder when I will be again glad
Its not worth worrying or Im sure to go
...mad...
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Ninety-Nine Versus One
Ninety-nine and one used to equal 100 percent.
However, math today is askew and I how resent
That the one percent controls the ninety-nine
And seeks to steal their remaining fruit rotting on the vine.
Once ninety nine was ninety-nine times one percent.
Now that one is 40 times or greater of all the money spent.
This 100% contains more powerful, greedy rich every day
As middle class suffers through more poverty and less say.
Many new millionaires and billionaires populate the 100%
While millions lose their homes and can hardly pay rent.
Our wealthy political leaders who fashion income tax laws
Take care that they and theirs are protected in every cause.
"We the people of the United States…" will deteriorate
To read "We the rich and powerful, how much we rate…"
Unless common man wakes up from his slumbering nights
And demands his rightful place in that 100% of his rights!
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Grand-Father's Clock
My grand-father's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor;
It was taller by half than the old man himself,
Though it weighed not a penny weight more.
It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born,
And was always his treasure and pride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
In watching its pendulum swing to and fro,
Many hours had he spent while a boy;
And in childhood and manhood the clock seemed to know
And to share both his grief and his joy.
For it struck twenty-four when he entered at the door,
With a blooming and beautiful bride;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
My grandfather said that of those he could hire,
Not a servant so faithful he found;
For it wasted no time, and had but one desire --
At the close of each week to be wound.
And it kept in its place -- not a frown upon its face,
And its hands never hung by its side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
It rang an alarm in the dead of the night --
An alarm that for years had been dumb;
And we knew that his spirit was pluming for flight --
That his hour of departure had come.
Still the clock kept the time, with a soft and muffled chime,
As we silently stood by his side;
But it stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
Ninety years, without slumbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
His life seconds numbering (tick, tick, tick, tick)
It stopp'd short never to go again
When the old man died.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Small Gaps In Creativity
real writing
demands real time
course work
never allowed
full time employment
never allowed
artistic development
real writing
part time artists
produce part time work
part time pieces
of genuine artistic souls
to produce artistically
but a few times
to only create properly
but a few times
in work recent months
is curse of part time
artists who felt right
but a few times in months
the rest of the time
was racing gaps
small time windows
of opportunity art time
poem by Terence George Craddock
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For An Old Man (Baltimore 1968)
i saw an old man today
he was all of ninety years
gray hair and whiskers did grow
round his ears
i asked him why he penciled notes
upon a browning pad
i do it to pass the day, he said
to keep from being sad
was he the wiser of generations
are we the age he has been
or is he just the passing of time
and of bottled gin
i saw an old man today
he was all of ninety years
gray hair and whiskers
did shadow his lonely tears
(Copyright Steven S. Walsky 1968)
poem by Steven S. Walsky
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The Day My Heart Died
In matters of love
Time moves swiftly
Days turn into months
Months into years
Years into a lifetime
Alas, love dies unfulfilled
That day has arrived
Uninvited
Unwelcome
Unannounced
Today my heart died
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Nervous
I am getting nervous
and you may well ask why.
In six months from now,
I am returning to the land,
which shaped my early years
to meet with a classmate
of that period of time.
Although we did not know
each other very well way back then
in recent years that has changed
and a friendship has grown.
Now in six months time
a reunion has been planned
and I am as nervous as a newborn kitten,
which has just opened its eyes.
I visualise in my head
how are first meeting is going to be,
but knowing how life is
it won’t be that way at all.
12 December 2008
poem by David Harris
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Dying so late
To die at ninety three that my father did
Is a bad thing in that I cannot live
Many years to remember him and
Hold his death anniversary many times.
07.07.2011.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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