There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking.
quote by Virginia Woolf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken mould.
What mould was used to create
the species of earth?
The mould changes automatically,
to create the better species.
Who has programed the mould,
to be mold, omitting the U?
The mould that is kept in every species,
in the form of DNA and RNA.
What an Creator is that person,
who has such knowledge.
It took thousands years,
to decode the secrets of procreation.
It took millions of lives,
to find out remedy for infections.
It has taken a life span of human,
to realize the truth in final breathe.
If The same mould is used,
there is no kick in it.
The variation is a pleasure,
Various kinds of people,
with variant characters,
distinctive features, color and hair,
but Color of the liquids,
rhythm of the heart beat,
months of full term pregnancy,
are all same for every species.
A simple change
may mutate the functions.
Let us be proud of the moulds,
that we have in us.
Let us make use of the mould,
that we have inherited.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dance! (Don't Think)
You got to break the back of the mould
You were made in it
Crack the shell, that's how it's got to be
Nothing for certain
Ain't no way of knowing
Only believe in things that you see
Flow with the river
Run with the tide
Mix with your brother
Because he's right by your side
Crack that mould
Little bitty chicken
You can't stay in there forever
Now there ain't such a thing as only
One kind of weather
You got to bend learn
Take the rough with the smooth
Understand everything
Crack that mould
And only then you'll be free
Pick up them shoes, go running down that road
You know that preconception is such a heavy load
You got to live love
Put down that written word
Crack that mould
And only then you'll be free
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you cannot mould yourself entirely as you would wish, how can you expect other people to be entirely to your liking?
quote by Thomas Kempis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The day has come
Potter moulds clay;
A day would come
For the clay to mould man.
Man mould nature;
The day has come
For the nature to mould man.
26.03.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summers Gone
Cue to your face so forsaken
Crushed by the way that you cry
Cue to your face so forsaken
What a surprise
You try to break the mould
Before you get too old
You try to break the mould
Before you die
Cue to your heart that is racing
Stung by the look in your eye
Cue to your heart that is racing
What a surprise
You try to break the mould
Before you get too old
You try to break the mould
Before you die
Cue your face so forsaken
Crushed by the way that you cry
Cue your face so forsaken
Say goodbye
Sing for your lover
Like blood from a stone
Sing for your lover
Whos waiting at home
If you sing when youre high
And youre dry as a bone
Then you must realise
That youre never alone
And youll sing with the dead instead
You try and break the mould,
Before you get too old
You try and break the mould,
Before you die
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crack That Mould
You got to break the back of the mould you were made in
Crack the shell, thats how its got to be
Nothing for certain, aint no way of knowing
Only believe in things that you see
Flow with the river, run with the tide
Mix with your brother, cos hes right by your side
Crack that mould
Little pretty chicken you cant stay in there forever
Now there aint no such thing as only one kind of weather
You got to bend, learn, take the rough with the smooth
Understand everything
Crack that mould
Now there aint no such thing as only one kind of weather
Pick up them shoes, go running down that road
You know that precondition is such a heavy load
You got to live love, put down that written word
Crack that mould
Now there aint no such thing as only one kind of weather
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mould
Break out of your
Mould -
To come to me.
I'll break into
Pieces…
To mould
Into thee…
(Theme: Oneness)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Too Good To Be True
(robert palmer)
She knows what to say, she knows what to do
Every move she makes, she makes just for you
She knows just how to change your mind
You think youve pinned her down
Shes got you undersigned
Shes too good to be true
They broke the mould, when they made you
She knows when to leave, she knows when to stay
When she takes her turn, she knows how to play
Theres more, you havent seen it all
Youre going to have to learn to keep up with her
Shes too good to be true
They broke the mould, when they made you
Shes too good to be true
They broke the mould, when they made you
She knows just how to change your mind
You think youve pinned her down
Shes got you undersigned
Shes too good to be true
They broke the mould, when they made you
Too good to be true
They broke the mould, when they made you
Shes too good to be true
Give credit where its due
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Sweet Symphony
Cos its a bittersweet symphony this life...
cause its a bittersweet symphony, this life
Trying to make ends meet , youre a slave to the money then you die.
Try to make ends meet
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down...
Youre a slave to money then you die
You know the one that takes you to the places where all the pain lives , yeah.
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
No change, I can change, I can change, I can change,
Where all the veins meet yeah,
But Im here in my mould , I am here in my mould.
But Im a million different people from one day to the next...
No change, I can change
I cant change my mould , no,no,no,no,no,no,no
I can change, I can change
But Im here in my mold
Well I never pray,
I am here in my mold
But tonight Im on my knees, yeah.
But Im a million different people
I need to hear some sounds that recognise the pain in me, yeah.
From one day to the next
I let the melody shine, let it cleanze my mind , I feel free now.
I cant change my mold
But the airwaves are clean and theres nobody singing to me now.
No, no, no, no, no
No change, I can change, I can change, I can change,
Well I never pray
But Im here in my mould , I am here in my mould.
But tonight Im on my knees yeah
And Im a million different people from one day to the next
I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah
I cant change my mould, no,no,no,no,no,no,no
I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now
But the airways are clean and theres nobody singing to me now
(well have you ever been down? )
(I can change, I can change...)
No change, I can change
I can change, I can change
Cos its a bittersweet symphony this life.
But Im here in my mold
Trying to make ends meet, trying to find some money then you die.
I am here in my mold
You know I can change, I can change, I can change,
And Im a million different people
But Im here in my mould, I am here in my mould.
From one day to the next
And Im a million different people from one day to the next.
I cant change my mold
I cant change my mould, no,no,no,no,no,no,no
No, no, no, no, no
I cant change
(Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down)
I cant change
(Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down)
(it justs sex and violence melody and silence)
cause its a bittersweet symphony, this life
(been down)
Try to make ends meet
(ever been down)
Try to find some money then you die
(ever been down)
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
Where all the things meet yeah
You know I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change
But Im here in my mold
I am here in my mold
And Im a million different people
From one day to the next
I cant change my mold
No, no, no, no, no
I cant change my mold
No, no, no, no, no,
I cant change
Cant change my body,
No, no, no
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down
Ill take you down the only road Ive ever been down
Been down
Ever been down
Ever been down
Ever been down
Ever been down
Have you ever been down?
Have youve ever been down?
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laburnums
OVER old walls the Laburnums
hang cones of fire;
Laburnums that grow out of old
mould in old gardens:
Old maids and old men who have savings or pensions have
Shuttered themselves in the pales of old gardens.
The gardens grow wild; out of their mould the Laburnums
Draw cones of fire.
And we, who've no lindens, no palms, no cedars of Lebanon,
Rejoice you have gardens with mould, old men and old maids:
The bare and the dusty streets have now the Laburnums,
Have now cones of fire!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grave. From The Anglo-Saxon
For thee was a house built
Ere thou wast born,
For thee was a mould meant
Ere thou of mother camest.
But it is not made ready,
Nor its depth measured,
Nor is it seen
How long it shall be.
Now I bring thee
Where thou shalt be;
Now I shall measure thee,
And the mould afterwards.
Thy house is not
Highly timbered,
It is unhigh and low;
When thou art therein,
The heel-ways are low,
The side-ways unhigh.
The roof is built
Thy breast full nigh,
So thou shalt in mould
Dwell full cold,
Dimly and dark.
Doorless is that house,
And dark it is within;
There thou art fast detained
And Death hath the key.
Loathsome is that earth-house,
And grim within to dwell.
There thou shalt dwell,
And worms shall divide thee.
Thus thou art laid,
And leavest thy friends
Thou hast no friend,
Who will come to thee,
Who will ever see
How that house pleaseth thee;
Who will ever open
The door for thee,
And descend for thee;
For soon thou art loathsome
And hateful to see.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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All are hypocrites
We mould our words in accord
With the readers in mind.
We mould our deeds in accord
With the respondents.
We write songs in accord
With the audience.
Who aren’t hypocrites
In their words and deeds?
09.12.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beggars of acceptance
One tailors one’s talks, designs one’s clothes,
Sets one’s faith, trains ones mind and mould oneself,
Each to a targeted audience
And thus all are beggars of acceptance.
17.10.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Yukoner
He burned a hole in frozen muck,
He pierced the icy mould,
And there in six-foot dirt he struck
A sack or so of gold.
He burned holes in the Decalogue,
And then it cam about,
For Fortune's just a lousy rogue,
His "pocket" petered out.
And lo! 'twas but a year all told,
When there in a shadow grim,
In six feet deep of icy mould
They burned a hole for him.
poem by Robert William Service
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A Pretty Woman
I
That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!
II
To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
And enfold you,
Ay, and hold you,
And so keep you what they make you, Sweet!
III
You like us for a glance, you know—
For a word's sake
Or a sword's sake,
All's the same, whate'er the chance, you know.
IV
And in turn we make you ours, we say—
You and youth too,
Eyes and mouth too,
All the face composed of flowers, we say.
V
All's our own, to make the most of, Sweet—
Sing and say for,
Watch and pray for,
Keep a secret or go boast of, Sweet!
VI
But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet,
Though we prayed you,
Paid you, brayed you
in a mortar—for you could not, Sweet!
VII
So, we leave the sweet face fondly there:
Be its beauty
Its sole duty!
Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!
VIII
And while the face lies quiet there,
Who shall wonder
That I ponder
A conclusion? I will try it there.
IX
As,—why must one, for the love foregone,
Scout mere liking?
Thunder-striking
Earth,—the heaven, we looked above for, gone!
X
Why, with beauty, needs there money be,
Love with liking?
Crush the fly-king
In his gauze, because no honey-bee?
XI
May not liking be so simple-sweet,
If love grew there
'Twould undo there
All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?
XII
Is the creature too imperfect,
Would you mend it
And so end it?
Since not all addition perfects aye!
XIII
Or is it of its kind, perhaps,
Just perfection—
Whence, rejection
Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps?
XIV
Shall we burn up, tread that face at once
Into tinder,
And so hinder
Sparks from kindling all the place at once?
XV
Or else kiss away one's soul on her?
Your love-fancies!
—A sick man sees
Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her!
XVI
Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose,—
Plucks a mould-flower
For his gold flower,
Uses fine things that efface the rose:
XVII
Rosy rubies make its cup more rose,
Precious metals
Ape the petals,—
Last, some old king locks it up, morose!
XVIII
Then how grace a rose? I know a way!
Leave it, rather.
Must you gather?
Smell, kiss, wear it—at last, throw away!
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On The Outside
They laugh at me aloud
They say Im just a clown
That I aint got no pride
Im on the outside
The girls look really cute
They really make it work
They think Im just a jerk
Im on the outside
I never could sit still
I never was too hip
I never caught the ride
Im on the outside
Im on the outside, Im on the outside now
This is where it all begins right here
On the outside lookin in, Im on the outside
I never was a punk
I never shot junk
I never even tried counter
Culture passed me right by
(Im on the outside)
Dont talk to debutantes
Dont eat in restaurants
The patrons sit and stare
The waiters make wise cracks behind my back
(Im on the outside)
Teachers there in school
They flunked me by the rule
They say I had no motivation, brains or dedication
I guess the imbeciles were right Im on the outside
Im on the outside, Im on the outside now
This is where it all begins on the outside looking in
Looking in
At you
Im just an alien through and through
Tryin to make believe Im you
Tryin to fit
Just a stranger on the outside looking in
The disco makes me sick i
Wear the wrong clothes
I say the wrong things
You know I cant dance
My feet are much too wide (Im on the outside)
You think you set the trends
You wear your hair just right
Your clothes are out-a-sight
Your house is modern really kitch
You get so macho when youre with your bitch
(Im on the outside)
I see them go to work
I see them go to sleep
I see them on t.v.
I see them laugh and cry
Im on the outside. Im on the outside. Im on the outside
(repeat chorus)
Im on the outside. Im on the outside now
Im on the outside
Im on the outside now
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Opportunities
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, i've got the brains
Let's make lots of -
I've had enough of scheming and messing around with jerks
My car is parked outside, i'm afraid it doesn't work
I'm looking for a partner, someone who gets things fixed
Ask yourself this question: do you want to be rich?
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
You've got the brawn, i've got the brains
Let's make lots of money
You can tell i'm educated, i studied at the sorbonne
Doctored in mathematics, i could have been a don
I can program a computer, choose the perfect time
If you've got the inclination, i have got the crime
Oh, there's a lot of opportunities
If you know when to take them, you know?
There's a lot of opportunities
If there aren't, you can make them
Make or break them
I've got the brains, you've got the looks
Let's make lots of money
Let's make lots of -
(aahhhhh) money
(aahhhhh)
(aahhhhh - di du da di da bu di ba)
You can see i'm single-minded, i know what i could be
How'd you feel about it, come and take a walk with me?
I'm looking for a partner, regardless of expense
Think about it seriously, you know, it makes sense
Let's (got the brains)
Make (got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
(let's) you've got the brawn
(make) i've got the brains
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
I've got the brains (got the brains)
You've got the looks (got the looks)
Let's make lots of money (oohh money)
Money
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cycles
When Dave Priest died grave sexton told
to toll bell well for corpse stone cold -
from epiderm to earthworm’s feast
star studded sports sporadic yeast.
The moral reads: reeds brave, deeds bold,
berth bends to end which breaks birth's mould.
Mould broken, mould returned, at least
is he released from life once leased.
Though pitter-pat or thud, thud, thud,
warm blood turns into tainted mud,
must musty dust depart, heart ceased,
Time’s gavel knocks down man and beast.
As cycles spin, out's in's template,
who sees the light before dark fate?
© Jonathan Robin – Sonnet robi3_0968 written 1 November 2005 revised 17 October 2008 - for previous version see below
When Dave died grave sexton was told
to toll the bell for one grown old, -
now he is young again, released
from epiderm to earthworm’s feast.
The moral is, however bold,
all bend to end which breaks the mould.
Mould broken, mould returned, as least
is he who highest life once leased.
So whether bid or oversold
warm blood soon rudderless and cold
must musty dust turn heart beat ceased,
Time’s gavel sells off man and beast.
Though cycles swift accelerate,
who sees the light before dark fate?
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Malaysiana - Doing it right, doing it wrong
are they doing right?
or are they doing it wrong?
yes educate them
make them thinkers
and after that make them fighters
throw them into the ring
and see how they fend for themselves
and help expand the economic cake
the nep works
in the number of brains it helps to develop
the number of fighters it helps to mould
it should stop after one gets the degree
the chinese dad always tells the child
'That's my best gift for you. Now
go and fend for yourself.'
help the farmers
help the less privileged
but stops at those who have
gotten the best education
jail those who refuse to pay back for
what they have gotten out of their education
the money they have taken from the taxpayers pockets
for they have forgotten why they have been
enjoying the special privilege
- to make sure they advance
- and that others too have the opportunity to advance
(this is basically a Malaysian poem written for Malaysians)
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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There's so many companies that are spending so much money on 17-year-olds... I can't compete with that. I'm not that guy anymore, they can't dress me up and roll me out there and make me look good. I am what I am!