The mark of a true politician is that he is never at a loss for words because he is always half-expecting to be asked to make a speech.
quote by Richard M. Nixon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Its A Big Loss
Rip
its a big loss...
the plane crash was a tragdy
but your death was a big catastrophic
a professor in mathmatic
that was you Hon. saitoti
its a big loss...
a great mathmatician
a dedicted politician
you solved our security like magician
its a big loss...
you left behind a legacy
many will emurate you like the water in the sea
you were a great seed
to many all over the world
its a big loss...
you fought alshaabab
withou fear nor disturb
you worked together like pal
we wont give up your work on the millitia
its a big loss...
a big gain in heaven
a big loss to kenyan
poem by Fantiz Evans
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Harangue
It's not a Halloween dream but on the particular day
A mass speech by a half God and the rest half devil,
Straight away called my name and asked;
'Hey! Scribbler what do you want exactly? '
'My honored Sir, if it's a pain relief cream that would be greatly appreciated.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Loss
The Loss
Heinous crime it was
My grandfather said; though
The loss was marginal for the owner.
A sunny morning. My father who
Rides roughshod to his office and
In the office over his subordinates.
Noticed the theft and turned red:
Mouthed curses which, were he a saint,
Would have burnt wherever
The thief was to ashes.
It was the brass nameplate
My father brought from Aligarh.
Now, fifty summers later another loss.
Neither my father who in his old age
Ruminates over his youthful days
Like a priest who savours the memory
Of the sumptuous food offered at the feast
Nor anyone else in the house grieves.
My grandfather (May his soul rest in peace)
What he would have said about the present loss
I cannot think. The loss is not tangible
But substantial. Not one object but many.
Delicate but strong enough to sustain
The name of the entire family. Sad it was
The thief was never identified. Not
Because he eluded but because
The investigators cared not to probe.
Was it a theft? No. Negligence? Maybe.
Wilful indifference, say the experienced elders.
For causes of loss let the wise quarrel
But the loss half-heartedly established
All went busy with their chores as if
The loss was nothing more than
A failure of the monsoon for the politician.
To me, nonetheless, it is a loss
Not easily retrievable as
Substitutes and replacements hard to find.
[For the loss is that of morals and values]
poem by Akella S. Ratnam
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True Fear
true fear,
it cannot be lost of material item,
no,
is it loss you life,
loss of friend?
loss of family?
bieng alone?
but surely,
a brave soul must give,
give to utter nightmare,
if this true fear,
is worth what you make it,
if is not worth giving a life,
then call it not a true fear,
great maybe,
major sure,
but true fear,
impossible,
true fear is entire surrender,
mental collapse,
such a horror,
dont call it true,
if is not true,
or true fear,
will devour,
and it eats well, all too well...
for the fragil presence,
of our sanctity,
will shatter,
poem by Jacob Biehl
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Loss Lost in Thought
Loss of love from your partner in soul:
A.k.a. jilt;
Loss of love from your bygones of souls:
A.k.a. mourning;
Loss of love which came from a dearth
Of love through rescinding love:
A.k.a. hatred;
Love to science in analysis be
Secretion of oxytocin in association
With an entity that leads to bonding - so boring:
A.k.a. must all suffer scientific explanation?
Loss of love, a catastrophe, nay!
So love, nurture love, and be loved!
Loss of nature from dear Mother Earth:
A.k.a. destruction;
Loss of greed in material world:
A.k.a. always opportunity for altruism;
Loss of kindness and pity and all:
A.k.a. human nature has dark undertones;
Loss of ego and fire of desire:
A.k.a. loss may be good in consequence;
Loss of responsibility; humility:
A.k.a. loss may be unnerving.
Loss of Homo sapiens:
A.k.a. demise of the flawed primate - pinnacle of Darwinism - equates to
No art; music; poetry; debate, and
Everything innate ornate of human!
So concentrate please, on bliss of this.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A hypocrite is the kind of politician who would cut down a redwood tree, then mount the stump and make a speech for conservation.
quote by Adlai E. Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enough Said
Loss of life, loss of money, loss of your wife-maybe a loss of your job can not compare with this!
Over the river,
Through the woods,
That is the only thing that I heard.
The screams were there,
So were the sighs,
Oh, why or why?
Everyone convened on the back porch,
I never realized what it was for,
Surely, It couldn't be,
That they were expecting me.
I thought that I was their friend,
They left the light on,
But wait what is that they have in their hands,
Maybe I shouldn't go,
But there she is,
If I don't go,
Will I regret it!
She will never let me live it down,
Now however,
They have put it up!
Pest,
What is that they call me?
Can't they see that they need me?
Oh, no! What is that sound,
Zap another one hit the ground?
Wake up you beloved friend,
But such is the life of the fly-enough said.
poem by Les Farmer
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enough Said
Loss of life, loss of money, loss of your wife-maybe a loss of your job can not compare with this!
Over the river,
Through the woods,
That is the only thing that I heard.
The screams were there,
So were the sighs,
Oh, why or why?
Everyone convened on the back porch,
I never realized what it was for,
Surely, It couldn't be,
That they were expecting me.
I thought that I was their friend,
They left the light on,
But wait what is that they have in their hands,
Maybe I shouldn't go,
But there she is,
If I don't go,
Will I regret it!
She will never let me live it down,
Now however,
They have put it up!
Pest,
What is that they call me?
Can't they see that they need me?
Oh, no! What is that sound,
Zap another one hit the ground?
Wake up you beloved friend,
But such is the life of the fly-enough said.
poem by Nadalia Bagratuni
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Unexplained Loss
When life's struggles closes in
Waisting time expecting to win
You don't know which way to turn
Keep watch the world to burn
Don't be afraid cherish your day
Be careful of what you say
A change is on the way
I'm on my knees to pray
My stage is set to start
At times I'm at a loss to part
Plan to plant your seed
Of what your going to need
Claim your winning victory
make your loss a part of history
poem by Joyce Vajda
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I Am No Politician
I am no politician.
I am direct.
Every blemish and flaw I have,
I accept without regret.
I am not trying to win your approval
To represent your requests.
Nor will I disappoint you...
With deceit to later confess.
I am no politician.
Seeking a way to line my pockets.
I find that disgusting!
And I observe those who can not stop it!
Your quality of life...
With standards you behold.
Isn't my fault at all!
That your best interests,
They have sold!
You selected them to dismiss me.
To keep me and mine in check!
You elected them to suppress my dignity.
To keep my indentity distressed.
You chose them to divide and conquer.
By rules and laws
They clearly defied...
You now regret!
Why me...
You despise?
I am no politician!
My priorities are my happiness.
Not to masquerade with pretentions...
For purposes to make promises,
With intentions to forget.
I am no politician...
To trap you like prey.
And dangle you to capture...
As I make arrangements with others,
To take away the safety from your nests.
To portray in false charades.
I am no politician.
So voice your anger,
To those you believed...
Would come to your aid.
While on your knees you plead.
I am no politician!
I sleep at night.
In peace and at rest!
I am no politician...
Nor a hypocrite you will find,
Who will say something other
Than what is on my mind!
You can bet,
With respect...
I am direct.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dont Ever Tell Me That You Love Me
I met her, down at the store on the corner
She was a prettier girl that was ever in a magazine
She was an angel, all dressed up like the devil
I knew Id never forgive myself unless I asked her out this eve
So I asked to the movies and she put her arms around me
Right at the start of the show
The she kissed me on the ear and she whispered dear love
She said, dont ever tell me that you love me
Just dont say those three words
To me so I dont ever have to be true.
She said, dont ever tell me that you need me
Just dont say those three words to me so I dont have to worry
Can you imagine how it hit me
And the funny thing is that it was just occurring to myself
So I said, hey dont jump to conclusions
Just what makes you so sure that I could ever fall for you myself
But even as I said it,
I knew I never meant it
I could feel cupids arrow from above
By the end of the movie I was falling in love
She said, dont ever tell me that you love me
Just dont say those three words to me so I dont ever have to be true.
She said, dont ever tell me that you need me
Just dont say those three words to me so I dont have to worry about you
Dont ever tell me that you love me
Just dont say those three words to me so I dont have to worry about you
Just dont say those three words to me so I dont have to worry about you
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0005 'what Is There To Live For?
and you asked this question
half-privately, half publicly, (so there's some hope then?)
but we, knowing alas your high intelligence,
must pause, reflect, before we answer you...
we could just say, in our severest tones -
that question comes from a nowhere, no-time place
where ignorance is loved, and knowledge is denied..
I'd say, off the cuff, damn you, do just what you like...
you'll do that anyway..
but if you want some words from me..
(who knows the power of words, despite
all evidence to the contrary?) -
some words about what you already know...
I'd say, the answer's in the shortest word
inside your question - 'is':
that tiny window in our life
between the past - that which has shaped your 'is' -
and future - which your 'is' will make for you;
that tiny window, which the gift of life
(and what else do we know of this?)
offers you through all your lived-in life -
gift, to be free; of past and future; simply be,
live in a world of free unselfishness,
be anything and everything, be what you wish -
or better still, be what unsullied life
continually offers you out of the blue...
Or you could count your blessings -
think as Mark has written, just so beautifully, to you...
you'll do just what you do, when all things have been said
and all things written down in words - damn you -
though I for one believe you far from damned..
I knocked upon your door - you didn't answer me;
so now I'm running round the back,
calling through that tiny window
of your very present life; and just to say,
you know yourself; know all the questions, all the answers; but
I'm here for you...and by the way, that ' I ' means we...
poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Loss of Inner Peace.
A loss of inner peace,
as i hear the words come out,
A loss of words,
As i try to speak of it,
A loss of a love,
a love too great to convey,
But with this loss of inner peace,
I find an understanding of life.
In loving memory of
Marguerite G. Ko
U.S.M.C Marine
1961-2003
Gertrude Stein is interviewed on American poetry
and there was the knocking on the door
that we were expecting
and it was the man
that we were expecting
with the questions we were expecting
to which answers were expected
by those who expect answers
as if life were like that
which for writers it is not
yes, tea was drunk
and after tea the tape recorder set up
so that what I said
I would continue to say
somewhere else
even when I changed my mind
here and nowhere else
and he said Ms Stein
what do you think of American poetry
and we said well it's American
and it's poetry
that's as it should be
and really that's all there is to say
and the man looked disappointed
so we asked him did he read poetry
and he said poetry no I dont read poetry
but my editor does
so I said it's really about Americans
living their lives
that's what American poetry is really about
because Americans move around
and so their words move around and
words in English have lost their intensity
but American words are always on the move
and they are more intense
yes, Americans living among Americans
and talking to their neighbours
if it's not about that
it's not really American poetry at all is it
if it's not about that
then why bother writing poetry
and the man was asking about a rose
being a rose being a rose and we said
for a hundred years the rose
has not been red in poetry
but now for the first time in a hundred years
the rose is red again
and the man looked at his watch
and said thank you Ms Stein
and was switching off his tape recorder
and a month later that
was what we said
in a magazine much read
by Americans who mostly
are not poets no very few but we said it
we know that this is so
because we read it there
and we think that really
that was all there was to say
because that was all we think
is really important
about American Poetry
that the words move like Americans move
and that is exciting for a writer
and that is the important thing about
American Poetry
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Speeeeeech!
does it make difference you speak in front of many people or alone
does it make difference you speech in historic place or in your toilet
does it make difference you are charismatic leader or unknown beggar from streetside
it makes difference you speak to clash conflict or for better world
it makes difference you speech bonded by past or to move forward
it makes difference you depend by fact or just soap service
does it make difference you read from text or speak fluently
does it make difference you speech in busy market or deserted mountain
does it make difference you write words yourself or scrap it from books and paper
it makes difference everybody exitedly listens or sleeps peacefully on their seats
it makes difference you have freedom to speak or prisoned by intimidation
it makes difference it gives effect or just a long boring speech
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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To heaven To Hell
the teenager asks mom
after her first bible lesson:
'Mom, if god knows all
things why should he
bother testing us
or even adam?
he knows he would fall'
Mom caught at
a loss for words
answers: 'Everyone
asks the same question
about God. He knows
everything and it is
only through him
that we can be saved.'
The teenager shoots
back: 'I think he loves
watching theatre...at us
acting out his scripts..
to heaven.. to hell.'
'Well, that may be
very true. But he wants
us to all go heaven, '
Mom says.
The child fights back:
'It is not a question
of what he wants. It is
what we want but
he has arranged for
all of that.'
Mom at a loss
for words says:
'Now, make sure you
act out yours with class
and before i throw you
into hell, get into the car.'
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Everything is connected
Asked to describe life
I said: ' the peaceful moments
with the friends you meet.'
Asked to describe friends
I said: ' the people you love
and care for daily.'
Asked to describe love
I said: ' feelings of goodwill
you have until death.'
Asked to describe death
I said: ' The equaliser
joy becomes nothing.'
Asked to describe joy
I said: ' opposite of sad
the happy feelings.'
Asked to describe sad
I said: ' opposite of joy
feelings of great loss.'
Asked to describe loss
I said: ' it occurs in life
regardless of us.'
Asked to describe life
I said: ' the peaceful moments
with the friends you meet.'
Everything is connected.
poem by Krantol Northic
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Peace Dies From Bullet Wounds
The warrior killed;
pulled the trigger
dropped the bomb
and when asked why
he said
'it's my job.'
The militant fighter
planted the bomb
and when asked why
she said
'it is my beliefs
my values
I am committed
and therefore
am doomed to kill
and die.
The politician
sought the war
and when asked why
he said
to protect my people
I must kill,
and order men and women
take up arms and die.
The son
leaving for war
was asked
if he would kill
and why
he said
Yes, I would,
its expected
and I do it to protect
my home,
my wife
my kids.
We all would be better
off
if we didn't
kill
for
peace.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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More Than Words
True Love
you cant express those feelings with just words, they go beyond
to let her know just how fond
you are of and how much you care
because no word could even dare
to come close to the meaning that is love, because its more than said
it's more then what you think of in your head
but its inexplicably more, since you cannot profess a love
with just speech
its not something like a dove
that can be caged or fully expressed, but through actions you can teach
someone of your feelings by sacrifice and devotion
to get your love in motion
and maybe then, only then when you dont know you dont just
love the idea, maybe then she'll understand its not just lust
but you'll always love her for who is
and when that times comes, you won't need the words
because your love will be unspokenly more
its the kind of love that is at the core
that cuts to the heart and lasts forever
if you so choose to embark on the endeavor
so attempt with your words so show how you feel
and make your appeal
but if your love be true
there is nothing you can do
to ever let her know just how much you care
True Love
poem by David Knox
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