I watched a small man with thick calluses on both hands work 15 and 16 hours a day. I saw him once literally bleed from the bottoms of his feet, a man who came here uneducated, alone, unable to speak the language, who taught me all I needed to know about faith and hard work by the simple eloquence of his example.
quote by Mario Cuomo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
When I came off the boat I was very proud of the thick calluses which had developed on my feet. But now, I am struggling to get into my favourite high heels which is a shame, as I have so many.
quote by Pamela Stephenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Better Way
There’s a better way of digging
Than that, Uncle said, taking the
Spade from your hands and showing
You with a craftsman’s touch how
It should be done. You watched in
Wonder how with ease and skill he’d
Made the trench begin to shape far
More quickly than your frail work
Produced. He handed you back the
Spade and you noticed the calluses
That years of using spades and other
Workman’s tools had made. He took
Hold of your hand and turned it over,
Gazed intently and smiled and shook
His head. Such lily-white hands were
Made for pen not spade or hoe or rake,
He said, finish what’s started, lad, then
Return to your studies and pen instead.
poem by Terry Collett
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CX: Ability
It’s not unable, it’s just not a favor
It’s not unable, it’s just reluctance
It’s not unable, it’s just not my style
It’s not unable, it’s just wrong
It’s not unable, it’s just no time
It’s not unable, it’s just out of place
It’s not unable, it’s just not consideration
It’s not unable, it’s just objection
It’s not unable, it’s just not effective
It’s not unable, it’s just stubbornness
It’s not unable, it’s just not important
It’s not unable, it’s just mercy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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A Pledge Of The Heart....
i am sworn to the
flocks of
silence
only my hands
speak for me
i bleed
but my mouth is cursed
when i begin to speak
the world trembles
the storms begin
to rage like a mad dog
the rain pours heavily
on the roof
and the paths
camouflage as thick grass
there is only one way
back
through the silent flocks of
the heart
nature has done
what is best
to keep the order
sun and moon must not meet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A right pair!
The tired shoes yawned,
They were unable to detach themselves from the feet
The tired feet yawned
Feeling trapped by the shoes and unable to escape
The first signs of agraphobia pressed in
Both were sick of the sight of each other
What a pair!
The hands tapped the table top idly
Refusing to release them,
Too busy composing a first and second draft
Of sonnet in its third sequence
The hands showed 'creative indifference'
The feet and the shoes
Now hot and bothered
Grew smelly and grumpy
Stamping the ground they united forces
Shifting both legs into action
Stamping the ground in fury
Shifting the hands from the writing pad
Until finally the hands released them from each other
'What a pair'! , the hands cried
The feet and the shoes
Sent loving looks to each other
After a particularly tiresome day
They hoped soon to be re united
What a pair!
poem by Yvette Smith
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A Guys Favorite Club
Going to a strip club tonight.
Flordia is the only place for me when it comes to the you can look but don't touch.
God how I love it so much.
One night, bottoms up, and the moneys all gone.
Triple XXX at the front door.
Sometimes it takes a big man to protect the girls.
That bouncer will knock you right to the floor.
Going to a strip club tonight.
Flordia is the only place for me when it comes to the you can look but don't touch.
God how I love it so much.
One night, bottoms up, and the moneys all gone.
All in good fun.
Sexual desires on the run.
Where's your mind as you glance.
Looky there that mans getting another lap dance.
She strips all the way down and spins around.
The perfect beauty, the perfect curves.
A figure so petite.
Going to a strip club tonight.
Flordia is the only place for me when it comes to the you can look but don't touch.
God how I love it so much.
One night, bottoms up, and the moneys all gone.
After hours, and not for kids.
Such a great time where can I begin.
With devil I'm holding hands.
Going into the vip room with certain demands.
Offers a plenty.
Time appointed stays.
Doing the nasty, behind closed curtains.
Knowing not a damn thing about this women.
Going to a strip club tonight.
Flordia is the only place for me when it comes to the you can look but don't touch.
God how I love it so much.
One night, bottoms up, and the moneys all gone.
Going to a strip club tonight.
Flordia is the only place for me when it comes to the you can look but don't touch.
God how I love it so much.
One night, bottoms up, and the moneys all gone.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Pleas of a Claymore III
Perhaps, the blight in all of us
Are denizens of a labyrinth
And are all engaged in a feudal mêlée
Amongst our ludicrous terrors
Etched in fleuron to our buried core;
Then we must all be the hero
Of our clandestine tailored tales
Regardless how omnibus the chronicles,
Or how rippling the wave of climax,
Or how dark the corners of the nadir,
It will narrate the atrocity
Of our dime a dozen breaths
Shallow or unfathomable,
In synergy with the heartbeat or not.
Sometimes, I do confabulate
With the cajoling omnipresence of hope
And submit to its scheme and proposition
That the struggling and the somnolent undertow
Makes a dogged-hungry hero,
And yonder this sedative restrain;
This famished comatose sleep
Of an oppressed hero or heroine
Solders one from rubbish slivers
Into a potent artillery of silvers
And the anguish veers and sprayed
Asphalt to the grave.
Do you bleed in your riling fists?
Or do you bleed in your asphyxiated hilt?
I, for one, was honed a claymore
And you can picture me
Glistening at the back of the hands
Of the yawning sunset
And erecting motionless
Into a small hill of the earth
Like a string to a buried puppet
Pleading, in its taut stance
To be stricken and undulate
Into the emollient hands
Of a puissant hero
With profound caverns in calluses
Of the yielding palms;
A raddled blade
Shrilling for the mellifluous
Hands of suicide.
poem by Norman Santos
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Autographing (Fun Poem 78)
For years and years,
I wanted to be published.
To actually see my name in print
to be able to hold a book up
and say that it is all my own work.
However, not once did I think
of the problems that might bring.
I never though of the sore hands
and blistering knees
I would get from autographing
the books for all my friends.
It is not a choice I don’t relish
as I do it with heartfelt ease.
It is just that I am so tall
and to sign a book
I have to get on my hands and knees.
Now my hands are full of calluses
and my knees full of blisters.
What more can I say,
except thank you
for listening to me today.
10 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You in your closed bleeding hands
The palm that closes
Cannot hold anything
Just like this narrow mind
Unable to grapple with
What is newly given
I see your fingers are closed
I tried to tickle you so they may open
I tried to tell you something puzzling
You closed your fingers some more
What is it that you are hiding there?
It is causing you so much pain
Your hands bleed, please open them
Is it the nail? Is it a broken glass?
You are not nodding still
Is it something so important?
That even with death you still refuse?
You are not nodding still
You shake your head, you keep mum
And numb to what I am asking
So be it, close your fingers
Hide the lines in your palms
Let your hands bleed some more
We shall wait what happens next
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Watched
Pediatric E.R, R.I.P 11/5/09 (Volunteer work can be tough)
I watched…
A heartbreaking scene today
But I couldn’t take
my eyes away
I watched …
I feel shamed to say
I watched
a little girl die today
I watched …
an anguished EMT cry
I watched nurses drawn faces
I watched a little girl die
I watched …
Just outside the doors
The Frantic CPR applied
With frantic, futile force
I watched
Her mother fearfully enter the room
To be seated by her side
To share in her impending doom
I watched
A strange, unsettling scene
Upturned faces as if in prayer
hopefully watch the vitals screen
I watched
A life dissipate and fade
On a bed
That I had newly made
I watched…
At least a half hour they tried
With wondrous machines, marvelous medicines
Yet still, this little girl died
I watched…
Then I heard a small whimpering cry!
But It was only the mother
As she saw her child die
I watched…
Her arms outspread, her mom at her side
Young staring eyes so angelicly appealing
I watched, sadly watched….then I also cried.
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elite
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
You like attention
It proof to you youre alive
Stop parading your angles
Confused? youll know when youre ripe
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this space
Thick with money
But I lost my taste
Youre into depression
Cause it matches your eyes
Stop! the faux to be famous
Confused? youll know when youre ripe
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this case
Thick with money
But I lost the taste
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
youre pregnant
With all this case
Thick with money
But I lost the taste
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
When youre ripe
Youll bleed out of control (2x)
song performed by by Deftones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Out Of Work
8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Wonders
Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And i don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We'll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end
Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain
All of my regret
Will wash away some how
But i can not forget
The way i feel right now
In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain
poem by Tiana Webb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breath No More
I've been looking in the mirror for so long.
That I've come to believe my souls on the other side.
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.
Shards of me,
To sharp to put back together.
To small to matter,
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.
If I try to touch her,
And I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe no more.
Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well.
Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.
Lie to me,
Convince me that I've been sick forever.
And all of this,
Will make sense when I get better.
I know the difference,
Between myself and my reflection.
I just can't help but to wonder,
Which of us do you love.
So I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe now...
Bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe,
I breathe-
I breathe no more.
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Race Of Standing Still
I'm racing racing towards it
Like when I was a small boy
Cutting through a waving field
Decorated by summer sunlight
Unable to remember
Unable to forget
Unable yet at peace
Unable yet scared
I'm racing racing towards it with fear and excitement
They seem unseperable
They seem so far apart
They are my close friends
They are my very ghosts
I'm racing towards it
Holding perfectly still
In the race of standing still
song performed by by Zao from Zao
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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democracy in the Philippine islands
there is this little boy
who is practicing to ride a big bike
his feet are short
and so are his hands
and always
in this predicament
does he fall and tumble
the years passed
and it is the same boy again
practicing to ride his
big bicycle
sometimes i am just curious
what is this boy
eating and drinking
since his feet are still short
and his hands are still small
he never had the guts
riding his bicycle to the full
it is the same situation all over again
he falls and bleeds
and cries that the bicycle is always too big for his
short feet and small hands
he falls and he tumbles
he bleeds and he fails
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Breathe No More
Ive been looking in the mirror for so long.
That Ive come to believe my souls on the other side.
Oh the little pieces falling, shatter.
Shards of me,
To sharp to put back together.
To small to matter,
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces.
If I try to touch her,
And I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe no more.
Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well.
Yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child.
Lie to me,
Convince me that Ive been sick forever.
And all of this,
Will make sense when I get better.
I know the difference,
Between myself and my reflection.
I just cant help but to wonder,
Which of us do you love.
So I bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe now...
Bleed,
I bleed,
And I breathe,
I breathe,
I breathe-
I breathe no more.
[piano solo ending]
song performed by by Evanescence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drank Like A River
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes brown bagging it tonight behind some tavern.
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes hanging out drinking beer with his brother-in-law
He was a drinker at night, and in the morning he was unnerving
He was a drinker full time, the day that he lost his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drank Like A River
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes brown bagging it tonight behind some tavern.
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
Somebody wrecked his life, and Ill bet you it was his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
Well, he was nearly died when he returned to the town hed come from
Hes hanging out drinking beer with his brother-in-law
He was a drinker at night, and in the morning he was unnerving
He was a drinker full time, the day that he lost his darlin
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
So he drank like a river when the wedding bells rang
Watched from the steeple as the choir girls sang
Died in a gutter on his feet and his hands...
The same hands that had once touched her face
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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