With each piece I've completed I have worked to make it intact, and each of them has been an equal high. It's like children. A mother refuses to pick out one as a favorite, and I can't do any better with the dances.
quote by Twyla Tharp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Song
When I came here I came here
I just came here to find
That one little girl
That is hidden behind
That old mill that old mill
That old mill out back
She's in that field In that field
In that field out back
And she dances and dances
Without anything wrong
She just dances and dances
To that same old song
Behind closed doors
She can't feel that much joy
As tears and tears pour
As tears and tears pour
But as she dances
She dances with stars the above
She's small but she can reach out
That far into love
And when everything's wrong
She will still be dancing
To her favorite song her favorite song.
You'd believe that girl
But not her world.
Or see her face
When she cries everyday
Or know what to do
When you know what she's been through
And I can't believe
Now what I see
Cause she dances and dances
Without anything wrong
She just dances and dances
To that same old song
Behind closed doors
She can't feel that much joy
As tears and tears pour
As tears and tears pour
But as she dances
And dances with stars above
She's small but she can reach out
That far into love
And when everything's wrong
She will still be dancing
To her favorite song.
And when she dances she dances
To her favorite song
She dances and dances
Because nothing is wrong
And when she dances
She reaches out far into love
She dances and dances
With the stars above
And even though she's small
She can make it through it all
She's as joyful as can be
When you see you'll believe
That nothing is wrong
When she is dancing to
Her favorite song.
poem by Mystykka Mysterious
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother! Oh Mother
Mother! oh mother!
Where are your children?
Where have they been?
Where have they lost?
Mother! oh mother
Am on you
Yet can't see you
Is you don't like me
Or you don't like us
Mother! your children
Some on edges
Many at peaks
Why are all not equal
Are all not your children?
Maa I understand you
You have lost your children
You are been polluted all over
Maa my mother
Please batter your creation
Batter and make it new
This is a humble request
From one of your children.
poem by Abhimanyu Kumar.s
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My father had not even completed high school when he started as an office boy working for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, and I am not sure that my mother completed high school.
quote by Douglass North
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Is Dying: Part 2 (Filicide)
Mother is infuriated
Mother is irritated
Mother is agitated
Mother is aggravated
Tormented by Her children
Sickened by Her children
Scarred by Her children
She is beginning to die
Mother was gentle
Mother was accepting
Mother was enduring
Though mother is now corrupted,
Similar to Her children
Her anger boils from her very core
Swirling vortexes of hatred dominate the skies
Her loathe floods Her children’s lives
The incarnate of Her disgust with Her children
Is devastating and cataclysmic
Her children can no longer find
Sanctuary from mother’s mercy
Mother is too enraged to rationalize
Mother will create The Rapture.
Mother will cause The Apocalypse.
Mother will eliminate humanity.
Mother will commit filicide.
poem by Alex Gomez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Name Was Snow (children s story)
There is a story that not many children know
Of a young girl - her name was snow.
She would come down - you know not when
But she would become every child s friend.
Children would say that she was
“ as white- as white can be”.
And the suns reflections would dazzle me.
She could make herself “ a blanket on the ground”
Where children could roll and jump on her
And she would not make a sound.
Snow would only come in the winter months.
So that with her the children could play
She was very cold, but they loved her that way.
You could mold her like you would
A piece of clay, and that is the way
That she would stay.
You could make her as an igloo or
A very high wall, or roll her up and
Make her a ball.
There was so many things that you
Could make her to be.
but the thing that she wanted to be the most
Was a white sparkling ghost.
Where she could come when she liked
And the children could have a “snow” ball fight.
So children! When you don’t see snow
coming your way, then wish for her on Christmas day.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Her Name Was Snow (childrens story)
)
There is a story that not many children know
Of a young girl - her name was snow.
She would come down - you know not when
But she would become every child s friend.
Children would say that she was
“ as white- as white can be”.
And the suns reflections would dazzle me.
She could make herself “ a blanket on the ground”
Where children could roll and jump on her
And she would not make a sound.
Snow would only come in the winter months.
So that with her the children could play
She was very cold, but they loved her that way.
You could mold her like you would
A piece of clay, and that is the way
That she would stay.
You could make her as an igloo or
A very high wall, or roll her up and
Make her a ball.
There was so many things that you
Could make her to be.
but the thing that she wanted to be the most
Was a white sparkling ghost.
Where she could come when she liked
And the children could have a “snow” ball fight.
So children! When you don’t see snow
coming your way, then wish for her on Christmas day.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Id Say You
If I had to say what love feels like
Id say you
If I had to say what love tastes like
Id say you
If I had to show what love looks like
Thats an easy thing to do
Id pick your favorite colors
And honey Id paint you
If someone asked what heaven is
Id say you
If I describe what pleasure is
Id say you
If I had to show what a dream looks like
Thats an easy thing to do
Id pick your favorite colors
And honey Id paint you
In websters book
Id even add a word or two
Under perfect lover
Id put see you
If I had to show my biggest thrill
Thats an easy thing to do
Id pick your favorite colors
And honey Id paint you
Id say you
Id say you
If I had to show what love looks like
Thats an easy thing to do
Id pick your favorite colors
And honey Id paint you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Favorite Girl
My favorite girl, oh, shes my favorite girl, dont you know,
My favorite girl, oh, shes my favorite girl.
You walked into my life, your love was so new,
And nothing will ever change my feelings for you,
Well, you were so far away, now I am close to you, girl,
So let us run away, our heart thats waiting will stay.
My favorite...
Theres so much I like in you I cant go on,
I wanted a girl like you Ive looked so long,
Girl, nothing will make us wrong, I know our love is too strong,
Lets leave the rest behind, our dreams ask what we will find.
My favorite...
My favorite...
(rap:) shes my favorite girl, the one Im always thinking of, that one.
(rap:) my favorite girl, the one I love.
My favorite... (repeat & fade ad lib)
song performed by by New Kids On The Block
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Piece of This
A son trying to help his mother who’s 83 in to the tub to bathe hears words that cut him to his very soul, “You must want a piece of this.” Now, as he hold back his hurt and wipe the spit of his face that his mother had spat on him thoughts begin to race through his mind. How could the woman who gave birth to me think that I would want to do that to her? She comforted me when I was afraid at night. She fed me when I hungry. Yes she was the first woman I loved just like any son would love his mother. But no I have no Oedipus complex. So no I don’t want a piece of that. Wow, this woman is the Grandmother to my son I wonder if I was not here and he was would she say to him “You must want a piece of this.” I know Alzheimer has taken over her mind and she is not the loving mother I once knew but it stills hurts to hear her say, “You must want a piece of this.”
Hunger in Botany Bay
Hunger lurks down the streets of Botany Bay;
The lonely child famished and peckish cries for food
None notices the child, for they’re preoccupied with the travesty of justice in Botany Bay
An observant vagabond pays heed to the child, and shares the lone piece of bread
The child ecstatic with what’s it got, runs to its hovel
The hovel where it was raised, is full of abjection and misery
The child runs to its mother, gives the lone piece of bread
The mother in tears, tears up the piece of bread
Gives a piece to the child to satiate its hunger
Keeps the other piece for the other slumbering child
For such is the love of the mother, careless about her own hunger
Gets lost in the agony of doubt, of how she will raise her children
In this world full of misery and pain.
poem by Deepak Hiremath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We would pick you
Dad, if all the fathers
had lined up one by one,
and someone told your children to pick,
with no doubt & thinking we'd still choose
you to be your children.
Because, we're proud to have a father like you,
who listens and understands to our troubles,
who teaches us to be patient
without price.
Dad, you are our hero
our role model in all we do
So, dad if we could pick again,
Be sure that your children would pick
you again and again and that
because you are really super hero!
http: //super23man.skyrock.com/
poem by Oussama samouna
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If 1 And 2 Were Equal
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have as many hearts as fists
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have confused shopping lists
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be less phone numbers to dial
If 1 and 2 were equal
noon would surely last a while
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be a nose under each eye
If 1 and 2 were equal
you couldn't say no to 'you and I? '
If 1 and 2 were equal
I think I'd be much more happy
'cause if 1 and 2 were equal
I would not be so lonely
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cry Baby Cry
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better.
The king of marigold was in the kitchen
Cooking breakfast for the queen
The queen was in the parlour
Playing piano for the children of the king.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The king was in the garden
Picking flowers for a friend who came to play
The queen was in the playroom
Painting pictures for the childrens holiday.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
The duchess of kircaldy always smiling
And arriving late for tea
The duke was having problems
With a message at the local bird and bee.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
At twelve o'clock a meeting round the table
For a seance in the dark
With voices out of nowhere
Put on specially by the children for a lark.
Cry baby cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry cry cry cry baby
Make your mother sigh.
She's old enough to know better
Cry baby cry
Cry cry cry
Make your mother sigh
She's old enough to know better
So cry baby cry.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
Prayers of parents make a peaceful heaven to a home
The children who neglect their parents will be cursed,
The Nature makes such children’s house a hellish dome,
They are lucky children who are blessed by their parents,
It is said that there is a heaven under the legs of mother,
The children love or not to their mother but she loves all,
She embraces good or bad children but she can’t smother,
Mother is habituated to pray to God for all their happiness,
A few children won’t love their parents but love their wives,
In old age parents are in need of only their children’s love,
Who devote God, adore parents will be happy in their lives,
Love of parents always comes to children from the sky above,
God bless those children who are blessed by their parents,
And God curse those children who are cursed by their parents.
poem by INDIA Mazid S Kazi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Deep...How High...
My favorite song of all
Is an Irving Berlin song
It starts out with a question
And ends with one more
My favorite song of all time
Its title are the lines
'How deep is the ocean,
how high is the sky? '
A song made up of questions
where two of them are
answered by the one
same question-answer
'How much do I love you?
I tell you no lies'
'And if I ever lost you,
How much would I cry? '
'HOW DEEP IS THE OCEAN,
HOW HIGH IS THE SKY? '
Two different questions
The same answer twice
The answer still a question
(Now don't ask why!)
A hint of something elusive
Something undefined
A fitting answer to that
something I'm trying to find
My favorite song of all time
So poignant so sublime
It never fails to make me cry
How deep...how high...
poem by Sonya Florentino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Favorite Recipe
Put a man who's good and wholesome
into a mixing pan.
Then, add one woman full of love
and blend well with the man.
Add any children of the man,
and the woman's children too.
Stir them all together
as you would a pot of stew.
Then a little bit of sugar
and fourteen cups of love.
Sprinkle in some blessings
from the heavens high above.
When you have completed
this amazing recipe,
you will have created
a blended family.
poem by Ron Tranmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Her Still
You never expected
your mother to die
although the hospital
hinted at such
all lost
in their
language trap
all in all
it was a double blow
as dementia took her
piece by piece
years ago
then the final punch
the knock out blow
remembering
someone saying
that's how
some loved ones
tend to go
and the relationship
between mother and child
is never simple
travelling as it does
through high hills
and valleys sometimes
dark and often deep
and remembering
all that
the need to weep
you reflect on all that
the final sight
of your mother
in that bed
the closed eyes
the small smile
remain in your head
and you know
after all such
you loved her overmuch
and always will
indeed
you love her still.
poem by Terry Collett
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My mother worked in factories, worked as a domestic, worked in a restaurant, always had a second job.
quote by Ed Bradley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Few Easy Pieces
Piece of this
piece of that
Peace and bliss,
Piece of crap
Peace of mind,
Piece of cake,
piece of work
Piece of steak,
Piece of eight
Piece of the action
Piece of the pie
Peace and satisfaction
Piece in the valley
Piece of glass
piece of my mind
Piece of a….
That’s quite enough now! ! !
Let’s quit this dance
Let’s stop while we’re ahead…
Let’s Give peace a chance
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All fingers are not alike, If you cut bigger ones to make all equal it is communism, If you stretch smaller ones to make all equal it is socialism, If you do nothing to make all equal it is capitalism.
quote by B.J. Gupta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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