Little do such men know the toil, the pains, the daily, nightly racking of the brains, to range the thoughts, the matter to digest, to cull fit phrases, and reject the rest.
quote by Charles Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Digestive Darkness And Light
life is a mixture of light, darkness and truth
but are you digested on them?
digest what you see
digest what you feel
digest what you smell
digest what you touch
digest what you eat
digest what you think
digest what you speak
and you will be a truth by yoursekf
but but but but but but but but but
NEVER DIGEST YOUR DREAM
Convex
Hold, hold me down, make me wish, make me wish for air
Call out your name, slowly drain the hate out of me
You're all the same, half inane, lack of brains.
Too much time I'm on my own again
Too much thought to ever see again
Too much sense to ever hear again
Too much hate to see a different end
Too much fear to concentrate again
Too much love to ever feel again
Ugly fears, Ugly face
Ugly thoughts, Leave no trace
Of innocence
The world inside breaking down
The world inside breaking down
Murder all these feelings trapped inside
Murder all these feelings trapped inside
reject everything reject everything
reject everything reject everything
reject everything reject everything
reject everything reject everything
Too much time I'm on my own again
Too much hate to see a different end
Too much fear to concentrate again
Too much love to ever feel again
Ugly fears, Ugly face
Ugly thoughts, Leave no trace
Of innocence
Holding on to words that let go softly
As you whisper into my ears only
Drowning in a pool of all of the tears
Nights and days they seem to drag on
All around you sense the sound
You don't even listen any more
song performed by by Velvet Acid Christ
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 28: How can I then return in happy plight
How can I then return in happy plight
That am debarred the benefit of rest?
When day's oppression is not eased by night,
But day by night, and night by day oppressed?
And each, though enemies to either's reign,
Do in consent shake hands to torture me,
The one by toil, the other to complain
How far I toil, still farther off from thee.
I tell the day, to please him, thou art bright
And dost him grace when clouds do blot the heaven;
So flatter I the swart-complexioned night,
When sparkling stars twire not thou gild'st the even.
But day doth daily draw my sorrows longer,
And night doth nightly make grief's length seem stronger.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am racking my brains to find out why he left without saying goodby to me.
No one's thoughts are eternal.
Fools don't digest the thoughts of the wise
As the wise can't digest the fools' thoughts.
Thoughts of the might are meekly followed
To be withdrawn with the might overthrown.
23.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What can you conceive more silly and extravagant than to suppose a man racking his brains, and studying night and day how to fly?
quote by William Law
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Respect Poem
_________________________________________
Resp ect your elders all if they deserve;
Respect your servants who will serve;
Respect your father for tilling the soil;
Respect your mother for her love and toil.
Respect all teachers who gave you the knowledge;
respect your parent who will pay for your collage
respect your friend who saved you from the ledge
respect yourself from not going to the edge.
they are so many things we tend to say
giving respect does not come everyday
don't reject, don't regret just correct
but don't forget to bloody respect.
respect it something i like
doesn't matter if your wrong or right
doesn't matter if you black or white
doesn't matter if your rich or poor
doesn't matter what the hell you own
doesn't matter what way were you born.
________________________________________
poem by Dbhker Don
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Daily Bread
"Give me my daily bread.
It seems so odd,
When all is done and said,
This plea to God.
To pray for cake might be
The thing to do;
But bread, it seems to me,
Is just our due.
"Give me my daily toil,"
I ought to say -
(If from life's cursed coil
I'd time to pray.)
Give me my daily sweat,
My body sore,
So that bread I may get
To toil for more.
"Give me my daily breath,"
Through half a sob,
Until untimely death
Shall end my job.
A crust for my award,
I cry in dread:
"Grant unto me. Oh Lord,
My daily bread!"
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Admirable Features
How do you describe the features of pain?
Is pleasant news to admire and reconcile?
My beauty is stronger than ever
When beautiful people arrive,
Forming words and framing phrases
Of certain propositions on my ground,
On my land that is my one.
How the pews are filled every day
From such abolishment,
The real abhorrent acts submerge us
In ruinations and botheration
Of quite epic proportions.
The pains are collected daily
And everybody accesses the bridges
To the remedy of other soldiers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thank You, Mom
Thank you Mom
Thank you Mom
Where I come from
Mom is the word for some
To my Mom
I send you my loving storm
in 'Thank you' forms
Thank you Mom, for bringing me to earth
Thank you Mom, for showing me daily love
Thank you Mom, for being my best friend
Thank you Mom, for your reassuring words
Thank you Mom, for always been there
I may have let you down a few times
But you always forgive me my crimes
Mom you are the best
Mom you are better than all the rest
Mom, I love you, I love you
Hope this is easy for you to digest!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Psalm 127
The blessing of God on the business and comforts of life.
If God succeed not, all the cost
And pains to build the house are lost;
If God the city will not keep,
The watchful guards as well may sleep.
What if you rise before the sun,
And work and toil when day is done;
Careful and sparing eat your bread,
To shun that poverty you dread;
'Tis all in vain, till God hath blessed;
He can make rich, yet give us rest:
Children and friends are blessings too,
If God our Sovereign make them so.
Happy the man to whom he sends
Obedient children, faithful friends:
How sweet our daily comforts prove
When they are seasoned with his love!
poem by Isaac Watts
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Kidney Stones
Kidney stones
turn brains to bones,
cull much remaining time,
call in all loans,
mute ringing tones,
rein reign of write and rhyme
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fabulists
1914-18
When all the world would keep a matter hid,
Since Truth is seldom Friend to any crowd,
Men write in Fable, as old AEsop did,
Jesting at that which none will name aloud.
And this they needs must do, or it will fall
Unless they please they are not heard at all.
When desperate Folly daily laboureth
To work confusion upon all we have,
When diligent Sloth demandeth Freedom's death,
And banded Fear commandeth Honour's grave--
Even in that certain hour before the fall,
Unless men please they are not heard at all.
Needs must all please, yet some not all for need,
Needs must all toil, yet some not all for gain,
But that men taking pleasure may take heed
Whom present toil shall snatch from later pain.
Thus some have toiled, but their reward was small
Since, though they pleased, they were not heard at all.
This was the lock that lay upon our lips,
This was the yoke that we have undergone,
Denying us all pleasant fellowships
As in our time and generation.
Our pleasures unpursued age past recall,
And for our pains--we are not heard at all.
What man hears aught except the groaning guns?
What man heeds aught save what each instant brings?
When each man's life all imaged life outruns,
What man shall pleasure in imaginings?
So it hath fallen, as it was bound to fall,
We are not, nor we were not, heard at all.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Familiar and Reliable
Preferences enjoyed...
Does not make one less or better than the rest.
Something received, shared and expressed,
Are desires that best suit
Comforts of those who choose to satisfy tastes,
Familiar and reliable without thoughts to test...
Or digest in complexed explanations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Syntax: Postlude to Love
tiers of words
enveloping
c
a
s
c
a
d
i
n
g
salted
fresh with tears
and
gusts of crocodile
b r e a t h
taking
d
o
w
n
my meat from dust-
covered shelves that
I m a y d a n c e
cheek to cheek with
your butcher's knife
the spring ran dry
exhausting itself
with racking gurgles
and in the wake
of its demise
the romantics arose
to bury our relationship
in the bloodied adjectival phrases
where it died that morning.
`
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beginning Of Understanding....
it is not the head
do not be misled
it is not the finer thoughts
but the shady ones
where you must find comfort
and it is not
in those neurons of
convoluted matter
that will make the finest
being in you
than the rest of this ocean
of humanity
rest a little
do not think
unload what bias of thoughts are there
be renewed,
anew
feel the coolness of the tree
listen to the song of the
sea breeze
lay your head on the breasts
of this earth
it is where
the heart is.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Old Man Medicates His Pains Away
AN OLD MAN MEDICATES HIS PAINS AWAY
An old man medicates his pains away
He wants to live in his mind
As if his body can be temporarily forgotten-
He tries to be as he once was
Easy in the skin of himself -
But the pains the pains the pains
They come from different directions
They interrupt they remind they dismay
The pains the pains
They may go away for a time
But they don’t forget to sharpen again-
An old man does not want to think of his body as his enemy
He is no pure mind and does not dream to be
But the pains
When so many come at once
And when no medication can really put a stop to them-
They will defeat him -
Drugged into restless sleep
He will not be able to die without them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Numbness
I loved you so much
That in your separation
My pang was too much.
Now if you reject
Which I cannot digest,
I shall go numb.
Numbness has no pain.
Pain is preferred
To numbness
27.10.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Pains In Spring
My pains have four seasons
A spring, an autumn, a winter and a summer.
My spring triumphs over the rest.
In the spring of my pains
I am surrounded by smiles of sweet pathos within
And in my garden the blossoming pains flutter in the morning.
In the autumn of my pains
I am preceded by the hills of hopes mounted
And in my groves the pale pathos shed tears in the noon.
In the winter of my pains
I am hidden by the mist of dejected aims
And on my snow hills the sliding glaciers ensure a fall in the evening.
In the summer of pains
I am blasted by the heat waves of scattered dreams
And on my anvil of my poetry new lines are made.
I like my spring of pains
For I too have a human heart
And my garden of dreams will ever be there.....
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Suppliant
Father, I lift my hands to Thee:
Reject me not!
Mine eyes are blind, I cannot see.
Be Thou the lamp unto my feet,—
Guide to the rock of my retreat;
O Light, my darkness cries to Thee!
Reject me not!
Father, mine eyes with tears are wet,
Reject me not!
Though Thou forgive, shall I forget?
Nay, though thy mercy fall like rain,
My spirit still must bear the pain
And burden of a vast regret.
Reject me not!
To whom, unfriended, should I flee?
Reject me not!
To whom, my Father, but to Thee?—
Ah! 'T was thy child forgave the sin
Of the repentant Magdalen
And blessed the thief on Calvary!—
Reject me not!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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