Gray hair is God's graffiti.
quote by Bill Cosby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
So I Have Become The Middle Man
So I have become the middle man
In this world
And I have so much gray hair on my head
That I don't like at all
I love blond hair
And I find it to be so attractive in men
But the truth is that I have that ugly gray hair
That God gave me
For a reason
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Graffiti Bridge
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
Something 2 believe in, a reason 2 believe that theres a heaven above
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4 love
Everybody wants 2 find the perfect 1
Someone that makes u happy, someone that makes u laugh when u want 2 cry
Everybody wants to find the perfect 1
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4 love
The love of a boy, the love of a girl
The love that comes from a warm heart in a cold cold world
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
Something 2 believe in, a reason 2 believe that theres a heaven above
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4 love
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
(people throw away your arms of fire)
A bridge that leads
A bridge that leads them 2 a love they know is real
(let democracy take u higher)
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
Everybodys looking 4 (if you believe)
Everybodys looking 4 (wave your hands)
Everybodys looking 4 love (on the power of love)
(love is shining)
(everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge)
Theres a future (sure, youre right) a future worth fighting 4
Im a living witness
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
Ooo, everythings gonna be alright, alright, alright
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4
Everybodys looking 4 love
There is a future (a future worth fighting 4)
Worth fighting 4
Yes it is, I know it is
Everything will be alright
Everybody wants 2 find graffiti bridge
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Graffiti Bridge (feat. Mavis Staples & Tevin Campbell)
CHORUS:
Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge
Something 2 believe in
A reason 2 believe that there's a heaven above
Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge
Everybody's looking 4, everybody's looking 4
Everybody's looking 4 love
Everybody wants 2 find the perfect one
Someone that makes U happy
Someone that makes U laugh when U want 2 cry
Everybody wants 2 find the perfect one
Everybody's looking 4, everybody's looking 4
Everybody's looking 4 love
The love of a boy, the love of a girl
The love that comes from a warm heart in a cold, cold world
CHORUS
Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge
(People throw away your arms of fire)
A bridge of many colors
A bridge that leads them 2 a love they know is real
(Let democracy take U higher)
Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge (Open your mind, open your heart, open your mind)
Everybody's looking 4, everybody's looking 4 (If U believe)
Everybody's looking 4 love (Wave your hands 4 the power of love)
(Love is shinin')
(Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge)
There is a future (sho' U right)
A future worth fighting 4
I'm a living witness
(Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge)
Ooh, everything's gonna be alright, alright, alright
(Everybody's looking 4,everybody's looking 4)
(Everybody's looking 4 love)
There is a future (A future worth fighting 4)
Worth fighting 4 (U knows it is, sho'nuff it is, baby) (Praise Him)
I know it is, I know it is
(Yes it is, yes it is, oh, it is, it is, it is!)
Everything will be alright
Everybody wants 2 find Graffiti Bridge
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To Much Hair
There is thin hair,
heavy hair,
There is gray hair,
and red hair,
then there is no hair,
I will be hair
for you forever,
every hair you go,
I will go hair to.
(4-11-07)
Hello, Old man...
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Though it ought not cause me no surprise,
For there’s many a sun that you’ve seen rise and go down
Since your step was light and your hair was brown,
And storms and snows have had their way–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
And the youthful pranks that you used to play,
Are dreams of long ago lie in a heart where the fires burn low–
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
And spite of driving snow and storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm. December holds the place of May–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Who cares what the carping’ youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can’t make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love for all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day–
poem by Rey Sanidad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
People that are 40, they don't sit around at talk about gray hair and how it covers their hair. They talk about highlighting, of course they're covering gray, but they don't talk about it that way. They're going to get their colors because they need a little lightening.
quote by Andie MacDowell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
BEWARE of GRAFFITI artist (a short story)
the next 24 hours will be crucial to America's survival.
A determined band of terrorist hold the key's to bringing down the government by plunging the country into darkness, fear, and chaos. A nightmare born not in a enemy land...but rather in the heart of America itself! Those terrorist are GRAFFITI ARTIST... holla back... big ups to all artists out there...remember graffiti is a form of ART not a crime...
poem by Joey Habib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some Choose to Dye Quickly
It gets a little bit harder,
To expand upon one's tolerance...
As the hair begins to gray.
Growing older,
Sometimes isn't done with patience.
And the thrill of each day,
Comes when staying as far away...
From the sounds of nonsense.
Arriving at this stage of one's life,
Needs no definition...
Of what peace is like.
It gets a little bit harder,
To expand upon one's tolerance...
As the hair begins to gray.
Some choose to dye quickly,
Every sign of getting older.
With a permanence wished to sustain.
Hair, eyebrows, moustaches and beards.
Expecting Mother Nature from them to disappear.
As if no one recognizes...
Every movement done they do is slower.
And a once proud vision...
Is not as clear.
'Hey Pops!
Hold up your head.
Don't dropp that toupee.'
~Is that suppose to be funny?
Well,
It isn't.
You, you, you...
Whatever! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picture of a 23-year-old Youth Painted by His Friend of the Same Age, an Amature
He finished the painting yesterday noon. Now
he studies it in detail. He has painted him in a
gray unbuttoned coat, a deep gray; without
any vest or any tie. With a rose-colored shirt;
open at the collar, so something might be seen
also of the beauty of his chest, of his neck.
The right temple is almost entirely
covered by his hair, his beautiful hair
(parted in the manner he perfers it this year).
There is the completely voluptuous tone
he wanted to put into it when he was doing the eyes,
when he was doing the lips.... His mouth, the lips
that are made for consummation, for choice love-making.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We grow gray in our spirit long before we grow gray in our hair.
quote by Charles Lamb
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
0004 M i n d
and mind might ask,
why then are brain cells gray? Is it
because the world is just
so wonderful, that they, stunned
and amazed, cannot decide
which colour to praise first?
(Mix all the colours of the paints,
and the result is gray.)
or is it because they feel themselves
so dull in comparison
with the miracle which is creation,
the miracle they (miracles themselves) , faithful, serve?
(Mix all the colours of the spectrum,
and the result is white.)
or is it, because they know
their work lies between ultimates
such as (do they themselves
call them this?) black,
and white? do they know
their work is equity –
to balance all things, so that gray is not gray
as we use gray for worldly metaphor; but
the gray of lakes at peace;
of silver that lives in itself,
needing no sun but its own innerness;
mercury that is moved but longs
to be united in a perfect sphere;
gray of clouds that know
the blessings that they hold;
and, the shining gray of mind -
for which gray hair is living metaphor,
the wisdom which life holds in store for you -
as how many poets, this moment round the world,
are joining new electric paths of thought between
these tiny, great gray worm-like cells which hide, compact,
their vast and inner space which spins out eager words
of metaphor, for that so nameless,
boundless, dazzling spectrum,
the radiant space of self?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Will You Love Me In December As You Do In May
Now, in the summer of life, sweetheart
You say you love but me
Gladly I give all my heart to you
Throbbing with ecstasy
But last night I saw, while a-dreaming
, the future old and gray,
And I wondered if youll love me then, dear
Just as you do today?
Will you love me in december as you do in may?
Will you love me in the good old-fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in december as you do in may?
You say the glow on my cheek, sweetheart
Is like the rose so sweet
But when the bloom of fair youth has flown
Then will our lips still meet?
When lifes setting sun fades away, dear,
And all is said and done,
Will you arms still entwine and caress me?
Will our hearts beat as one?
Will you love me in december as you do in may?
Will you love me in the good old-fashioned way?
When my hair has all turned gray,
Will you kiss me then and say,
That you love me in december as you do in may?
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Growin' Gray
HELLO, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' it beats ole Ned to see the way
'At the crow's feet's a-getherin' aroun' yore eyes;
Tho' it oughtn't to cause me no su'prise,
Fur there's many a sun 'at you've seen rise
An' many a one you've seen go down
Sence yore step was light an' yore hair was brown,
An' storms an' snows have had their way—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' the youthful pranks 'at you used to play
Are dreams of a far past long ago
That lie in a heart where the fires burn low—
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
An' spite of drivin' snow an' storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm.
December holds the place of May—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray —
Who cares what the carpin' youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can't make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love fur all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've tried doing so, for it was never my intention to paint only with gray. But in the course of my work I have eliminated one color after another, and what has remained is gray, gray, gray!
quote by Alberto Giacometti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In Germany Before The War
In germany before the war
There was a man who owned a store
In nineteen hundred thirty-four
In dusseldorf
And every night at fine-o-nine
Hed cross the park down to the rhine
And hed sit there by the shore
Im looking at the river
But Im thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
Im looking at the river
But Im thinking of the sea
A little girl has lost her way
With hair of gold and eyes of gray
Reflected in his glasses
As he watches her
A little girl has lost her way
With hair of gold and eyes of gray
Im looking at the river
But Im thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
Thinking of the sea
We lie beneath the autumn sky
My little golden girl and i
And she lies very still
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Want More Hair?
I'd love
I think
more hair
more hair
like a big
old grizzly bear
more hair makes
you manly
more hair
makes you tough
more hair feels
like carpet
more hair keeps
you rough
more hair
for pretty ladies
to rub their faces on
more hair for
guys to jealous of
and more locks that can
be flung
I think more hair would be awesome
but I wouldn't wanna overdo it
because too much hair would make
me like a little furry blanket
and I couldn't cover both of us
just you and that ain't fair
more hair!
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother's Hair Has Turned To Silver
Mother's hair has turned to silver
Her skin is all wrinkled and cold
But i'd never trade my mother
For the world and all its gold. Yes her hair has turned to silver
Her face is all covered with lines
But there'll never be another
Like this gray haired mother of mine. I think of all the hardships
I have caused her to bare
Then I can see the reasons
For the silver in her hair. Mother's hair has turned to silver
And her hard working days are done
But there's still a smile on her face
And a love for everyone.
poem by Kenneth Rickard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pan With Us
Pan came out of the woods one day,-- His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray, The gray of the moss of walls were they,-- And stood in the sun and looked his fill At wooded valley and wooded hill.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grandma
Knots and tangles in my hair,
grandma sitting on her chair,
me in front on a stool so low,
brushes and combs all in a row.
Grandma would wash it every day,
Saying 'We do this first, then you play.'
Waiting for the feel of every pull,
this became our ritual.
I anticipated every tug.
When we finished we would hug.
But before I'd leave she'd make a bow,
all different colors she'd use to show
that my hair was something she loved to see.
It was long and shiny black, like ebony.
I treasure her looks and the moments spent,
the combs, the brushes and her looks of content.
My grandma made me feel like a queen,
like the prettiest thing she'd ever seen.
Now as my hair is turning gray
I remember the words she used to say,
'Sit down dolly and I'll comb your hair.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!