Old books that have ceased to be of service should no more be abandoned than should old friends who have ceased to give pleasure.
quote by Bernard Baruch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Bothers!
MY TEARS HAVE CEASED TO DRIP FROM MINE EYES!
MY PAINS HAVE CEASED TO AMAZE ME!
THE DISTANCES OF THE JOURNEYS HAVE CEASED TO MATTER TO ME!
BUT, I STILL AM IN DIFFICULTY IN IGNORING THE PESTILENCES OF THE CHRISTIANS!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Some loves are like a vice that has ceased to give pleasure.
quote by Mason Cooley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The man who has ceased to fear has ceased to care.
quote by F.H. Bradley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Meaning Of Our Love (Villanelle)
Maybe we cou'dn't understand the meanin' of our love or so,
Maybe we cou'dn't find each other in our world of two and
Love itself ceased to be, 'cause it had no sense o' self to glow.
Or maybe love made sense for both of us, but we didn't let it flow,
E'en we could let it flow, but we didn't give it a chance, thinkin' that
Maybe we cou'dn't understand the meanin' of our love or so.
Maybe the senses of our love were intermingled and we didn't know,
But we knew it, when we touched our angry bodies, we knew that
Love itself ceased to be, 'cause it had no sense o' self to glow.
Then, we could find our madness o' love as a big bubble growin' to blow,
A kind of madness that makes you be a drinker of your own delusions and
Maybe we cou'dn't understand the meanin' of our love or so.
But we understood the dyin' meanin' of those delusions in our life show.
They've been irreversibly dissolved into sorrow, until we're separated.
Love itself ceased to be, 'cause it had no sense o' self to glow.
Now, when we drive with time machine on the true age o' the snow,
‘Tis too late to find each other in our world of two, e'en we tried it and
Maybe we cou'dn't understand the meanin' of our love or so,
Love itself ceased to be, 'cause it had no sense o' self to glow.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The memory of most men is an abandoned cemetery where lie, unsung and unhonored, the dead whom they have ceased to cherish. Any lasting grief is reproof to their neglect.
Marguerite Yourcenar in Memoirs of Hadrian
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: VII
I had made my round, as yet with little gain
Of undiscovered good in that gay place.
I had sought my share of pleasure, but in vain.
Laughter was not for me, and hid her face.
I had asked for mirth. The oracles were dumb.
No sound of Folly with her tinkling feet
Had bid my own feet follow, and no home
Was mine for merriment or musings sweet.
I had ceased to hope and almost ceased to seek,
When, from the farthest booth of all, the bray
Of brass and drums and fiddling and the shriek
Of a dwarf's voice invited me to stay.
The crowd, as scenting some more mirthful thing,
Surged round that booth agape and wondering.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Room Service
Im feelin low, no place to go
And Im a-thinking that Im gonna scream
Because a hotel all alone is not a
Rock and roll stars dream
But just when Im about to shut the light and go to bed
A lady calls and asks if Im too tired or if Im just to dead for
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
My planes delayed and Im afraid
Theyre gonna keep me waiting here till nine
Then a stewardess in a tight blue dress says
I got the time
But just as Im about to take my coat and get my fly
She says oh please, shes on her knees
And one more time before I leave I get some
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no, no
In my home town, Im hangin round
With all the ladies treatin me real good
A sweet sixteen lookin hot and mean says
I wish you would
But just as Im about to tell her yes, I think I can
I see her dad, hes getting mad
All the time he knows that Im in need of
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, I take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no, I cant say no
Room service, baby I could use a meal
Room service, you do what you feel
Room service, you take the pleasure with the pain
I cant say no
Room service, well maybe baby, room service
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born in iniquity and conceived in sin, the spirit of nationalism has never ceased to bend human institutions to the service of dissension and distress.
quote by Thorstein Veblen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Be Wetin I Be!
THERE WAS NOT A WAR WHERE SOLDIERS DID NOT EXIST,
THERE WAS NOT A DEVIL, WHERE A GOD DID NOT EXIST,
THERE WAS NOT A FIRE THAT DID NOT BEGET SMOKE,
THERE WAS NOT A SKY WHERE A CLOUD EXISTED NOT,
THEN WHY SHOULD THERE BE I, WHEN I DID NOT EXIST?
I HAVE CEASED TO BE BEFORE BEING,
I HAVE CEASED TO EXIST BEFORE I EVEN EXISTED,
THEN, OF WHAT NEED IS THE PESTILENC?
IF THERE NEVER WAS ANY TO BE PESTERED,
FOR I AM NOT TO BE,
THEN LET ME CEASE TO BE,
THAT MY PEACE MAY BE,
THUS AND THEN, MAY I HAVE BEEN!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Bloodwork.
Here is your broken character, the one left of heaven.
Scissors cut him from the page, example,
continue to read not to retrace the steps, touch me.
The hemorrahaging has ceased, has ceased.
And I swallow these capsules, to regain my grip.
And I swallowed myself sick. And I inherited my health.
Here is your wake and smile, that you seem to need.
The safe and the touch, and the unweave.
Right where you placed it the night before,
Saint checks in to make sure,
You're right where you say that you are,
right where you are.
They all seem so trutful,
they all seem to true.
Couldn't find a better way to lie.
song performed by by 36 Crazyfists
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have not ceased being fearful, but I have ceased to let fear control me. I have accepted fear as a part of life--specifically the fear of change, the fear of the unknown and I have gone ahead despite the pounding in my heart that says turn back, turn back, you'll die if you venture too far.
quote by Erica Jong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trade Off
Trade off!
Will the value satisfy the act,
Be equally pleasing?
Is that pleasure increased,
After an agreement has been reached?
What is it that is being traded?
Has the use of it for one ceased,
To decide not to keep as one's special 'piece'?
And does a trading it off meet the need,
For one to believe it gratifies?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Brain's Mirror
Things are different now
Things are very different
Mine eyes when still, reminisce
Mine eyes when still, remember
That day when I ceased to individualize
That day when I ceased to materialize
I found solitude in our “used-to’s”
I found solitude in old mementos
Sometimes I jump off point reality
Sometimes I escape reality
To where there is peace and harmony
To where there is you and me
poem by Eljay Ladia
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My Hundred Books
A thousand books my library
Contains;
And all are primed, it seems to me
With brains.
Mine are so few I scratch in thought
My head;
For just a hundred of the lot
I've read.
A hundred books, but of the best,
I can
With wisdom savour and digest
And scan.
Yet when afar from kin and kith
In nooks
Of quietness I'm happy with
Sweet books.
So as nine hundred at me stare
In vain,
My lack I'm wistfully aware
Of brain;
Yet as my leave of living ends,
With looks
Of love I view a hundred friends,
My books.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Shadowlands
The Shadow-lands are here about,
hidden from even the most devout.
There those who were, then ceased to be,
enjoy post mortem revelry.
Their ghostly visage sight unseen
by downcast kin that sob and keen.
They linger but a moment, then.
they head off to the shadow-lands.
There they are young and strong and free,
much more than simple memories.
When their earthy foibles are recalled
they laugh hardest of us all.
They’re close whenever called to mind;
The shadow folk are calm and kind.
For they who were, then ceased to be,
well know what mortals fail to see.
Only they can understand
who’ve traveled to the shadow-lands.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Standing Still
Factories, once engulfed by workplace smells,
Are now little more than empty shells.
Machinery, which once clanked and clattered,
Stands abandoned, broken and battered.
Cranes, once driven to earn a crust,
Now lay abandoned and full of rust.
People once worked here to pay their bills,
But now the place is standing still.
For trade, this place was an important hub;
It even had its own working men's club.
In its heyday, it saw many deliveries;
Now the silence leaves you shivery.
Along the quayside, big ships docked;
In and out, the dock workers clocked.
It was a hive of activity every day,
Until the workforce were sent away.
Trading ceased and the place closed down;
Now deserted, it is just waste ground.
The buildings are in a state of disrepair:
About them, people now no longer care.
To save their jobs, workers campaigned:
Their fight drove some almost insane.
They struggled to save their livelihoods,
But, in the end, it did them no good.
Many workers felt a real sense of shock,
When, for the last time, gates were locked.
They missed the work and their friends;
Their way of life came to an abrupt end.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Where I have ceased/Tamo gdje sam stala
Where I have ceased the morning will move on
I'll recognise the down by the drops of rain
I want to watch the sun as if it were the first time
I want to watch the sky as if it were the last
Where I have ceased the waters will move away
The thought of a dropp will be burnt in endlessness
There will remain a misty memery dewed
Of drinking to the bottom
Where I ceased the life will move on
The roads will be remembered from the fountain prime
I'll write the paths in hundeds of ways
At the bottom of my own eyes
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice jutro
Po kišnim kapima prepoznacu svitanje
Hocu da gledam sunce kao da je prvi put
Hocu da gledam nebo kao da je posljednji
Tamo gdje sam stala ugasice se voda
Spržice se misao kapi u beskraju
Ostace maglovito zorom orošeno sjecanje
Na ispijanje do dna
Tamo gdje sam stala nastavice život
Sa iskonskog vrela pamtice se putevi
Na sto nacina ispisacu staze
Na dnu sopstvenih ociju
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Biology 101: Two Lovers+One Frog (triolet)
From dissecting on this table
guitar-crossed lovers ceased affair;
for her stomach crawled unstable
from dissecting on this table,
and he smiled, so princely-able,
but touched green hands. Quite green his stare!
From dissecting on this table
guitar-crossed lovers ceased affair.
poem by Glenn Bagshaw
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A Tower of Power
We will build a tower
With unbridled spring-water attitudes
Flowing with fires of charity
For all the suffering multitudes
Dispossessed and swallowing poverty
We will give them power
We will build a tower
With lots of windows and no ears
With promises for those who have ceased their quest
For the young and old in years
For those who no longer turn west
We will give them power
We will give them power
Give them tomorrows and rainbows in tomorrow’s flowers
Help them fill pitchers with milk, honey, and cream
Reap the green of crops they have never seen
Shelter them from the cold, black screams
They will scale the tower
We will build a tower
They will scale like goats and soar like eagles
Who climbs higher than these birds?
They will peer through rose-colored gothic windows
And see the many rainbows of blooming flowers spilling colors
They will have the power
We will build a tower
For those near and far
Those who lost their dreams
Those who ceased the quest
Those no longer traveling west
Our actions will speak louder than words
They will sing the music of the birds
Learn to disregard the terms
Of all their unanswered yearns
- June 5,2007
poem by Ben Gieske
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When Love Never Ceased
A beautiful sunset sets to my west
A subtle rainbow rises from the east
And I dream of love, when love never ceased
Tried, I, to keep it, tried my very best
Alas, the love has gone and has been gone
Far too many weeks, far too many years
Replaced only with doubt and childlike fears
Trust that has been entirely undone
A beautiful rainbow fades to the east
The sunset gives way to a hazy dusk
I am left alone, a man out of luck
And I dream of love, when love never ceased
If only rainbows and sunsets could cheer
A heart that's been hardened so many years
((June 29th,2009))
poem by Danny Speicher
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