Grief, and an estate, is joy understood.
quote by Gregory Nunn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hands Of A Teacher
Optimism,
Optimism perished from the face of my earth
And then you came along, came along and swept me away,
She kissed me, as we stood on the edge,
The night made the day as we made for the bridge
It started raining hard, and I saw we may live to regret
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
Pessimism,
Pessimism perished from the face of my earth,
And then you came along, came along and swept me away,
Did you miss me? did you miss me as we walked
Through the pain, attached the chain so you could
See me again
I started asking myself, did I teach you right?
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
Understood why...
You came to me, you broke the bonds,
You set me free
And then the love that you promised me
Came a tumblin tumblin tumblin down
Into my hands...
No I never really understood
No I never really understood why,
Because Ive never been given,
Never been given two tries,
No I never really understood,
Understood why...
So teacher teach me...
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In an approximate way, the logic of commons has been understood for a long time, perhaps since the discovery of agriculture or the invention of private property in real estate.
quote by Garrett Hardin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real-Estate
Real-Estate, real, estate, state, taste, east, eat, ale, tea, set, sale, sales, ate;
In the thirty-seventh year with your love,
And like your battle axe and your weapons of war!
But the horse and its rider are now killed with your bombs! !
Real-Estate, at, as, art, last, late, rate, rates, sea, sear, tear, tears, tale, tales;
And like the muse of love in the land of hatred!
But rise up to the challenges around you and be yourself;
For many wrs ar now waging on!
Real-Estate, ear, era, are, seat, lease, star, rat, tar, tease, salt, ease, sat, ears;
And like your love behind the works of war! !
But be very wise to move on peacefully with your mind;
For the real-estate business is like the muse of your love surrounded with troubles.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Understanding is only misunderstanding
When you say
“I understand”
You simply confess
That you are only trying
To understand
And you affirm
To guard against
Misunderstanding
Though this may not be true
In a technical discussion
This is always true
When attempts are made
To evaluate issues
Pertaining to minds and emotions
Let us admit
We have not understood
Any one and
Any of the thought processes
Associated with any individual
How many of us
Have understood our parents?
How many of us
Have understood our spouses?
How many of us
Have understood our brothers
And sisters?
How many of us
Have understood our sons
And daughters?
How many of us
Have understood our customers,
Employers and employees
Bosses and sub-ordinates
More you are confident
About these understandings
More likely
You have misunderstood them
Do not ever claim
That you have
Understood others
As you now understand
That
Understanding is only
Misunderstanding
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Hope in Heaven's Day
Grief be mine, I ask you so,
If not for you, I wouldn't know,
How life once was and then be still,
How so precious, that death do steal.
Because that grief, won't go away,
Learn to let it have its way.
The link to love, a precious one,
Is met with grief and still not done.
The days do come, and nights do go,
Grief will stay as time is so.
And so a loved one passes on,
And grief comes in and carries on.
Does grief get better, I will ask,
It's hard to say, while at its task.
There is grief to help us cope,
There is God to give us hope.
Grief will surely go away,
On that glorious heaven's day.
But while its here, there's just one thing,
Pray our Lord, for peace he'll bring.
poem by Arlene Dery
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Gilhooley's Estate
Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes,
As most of you know, soon or late;
And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows,
So they took him to Gilhooley's Estate.
Gilhooley in life had been living so free
'Twas thought his possessions were great,
So Jones, with a smile, says, "There's many a fee
For me in Gilhooley's Estate."
They made out a list of his property fine,
It totalled a thousand-and-eight;
But the debts were nine hundred and ninety-nine --
The debts of Gilhooley's Estate.
So Mrs Gilhooley says, "Jones, my dear man,
My childer have little to ait:
Just keep my expinses as low as you can
Against poor Gilhooley's Estate."
Bur Jones says, "The will isn't clear in its terms,
I fear it will need some debate,
And the law won't alow me (attorneys are worms)
To appear in Gilhooley's Estate."
So a barrister-man, with a wig on his head
And a brief in his hand, quite elate,
Went up to the Court where they bury the dead,
Just to move in Gilhooley's Estate."
But his Honour the Judge said, "I think that the joint
Legatees must be called to probate --
Ex parte Pokehorney is clear on the point --
The point of Gilhooley's Estate."
"I order a suit to be brought just to try
If this is correct that I state --
A nice friendly suit -- and the costs by and by,
Must be borne by Gilhooley's Estate."
So Mrs Gilhooley says, "Jones, you'll appear!
Thim barristers' fees is too great;
The suit is but friendly," "Attorneys, my dear,
Can't be heard in Gilhooley's Estate."
From the barristers' quarter a mighty hurrah
Arises both early and late:
It's only the whoop of the Junior Bar
Dividing Gilhooley's Estate.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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A real estate closer. Oh, what's that? I'm a real estate opener. What is a real estate closer? You mean at the end where you've got to sign all those papers?
quote by Louie Anderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Understood
Not understood, we move along asunder;
Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep
Along the years; we marvel and we wonder
Why life is life, and then we fall asleep
Not understood.
Not understood, we gather false impressions
And hug them closer as the years go by;
Till virtues often seem to us transgressions;
And thus men rise and fall, and live and die
Not understood.
Not understood! Poor souls with stunted vision
Oft measure giants with their narrow gauge;
The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision
Are oft impelled 'gainst those who mould the age,
Not understood.
Not understood! The secret springs of action
Which lie beneath the surface and the show,
Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction
We judge our neighbours, and they often go
Not understood.
Not understood! How trifles often change us!
The thoughtless sentence and the fancied slight
Destroy long years of friendship, and estrange us,
And on our souls there falls a freezing blight;
Not understood.
Not understood! How many breasts are aching
For lack of sympathy! Ah! day by day
How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking!
How many noble spirits pass away,
Not understood.
O God! that men would see a little clearer,
Or judge less harshly where they cannot see!
O God! that men would draw a little nearer
To one another, -- they'd be nearer Thee,
And understood.
poem by Thomas Bracken
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Love can be understood only ""from the inside,"" as a language can be understood only by someone who speaks it, as a world can be understood only by someone who lives in it.
quote by Robert C. Solomon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now, one thing I tell everyone is learn about real estate. Repeat after me: real estate provides the highest returns, the greatest values and the least risk.
quote by Armstrong Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Understood
Not understood, we move along asunder;
Our paths grow wider as the seasons creep
Along the years; we marvel and we wonder
Why life is life, and then we fall asleep
Not understood.
Not understood, we gather false impressions
And hug them closer as the years go by;
Till virtues often seem to us transgressions;
And thus men rise and fall, and live and die
Not understood.
Not understood! Poor souls with stunted vision
Oft measure giants with their narrow gauge;
The poisoned shafts of falsehood and derision
Are oft impelled 'gainst those who mould the age,
Not understood.
Not understood! The secret springs of action
Which lie beneath the surface and the show,
Are disregarded; with self-satisfaction
We judge our neighbours, and they often go
Not understood.
Not understood! How trifles often change us!
The thoughtless sentence and the fancied slight
Destroy long years of friendship, and estrange us,
And on our souls there falls a freezing blight;
Not understood.
Not understood! How many breasts are aching
For lack of sympathy! Ah! day by day
How many cheerless, lonely hearts are breaking!
How many noble spirits pass away,
Not understood.
O God! that men would see a little clearer,
Or judge less harshly where they cannot see!
O God! that men would draw a little nearer
To one another, -- they'd be nearer Thee,
And understood.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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What old sadness can I let go of by sharing it today
How can we measure the grief we feel and and how we could put up with it. Doesn't the grief of death weight a ton or more. Doesn't it strenth out to a month a year or still longer. Is the grief of failture lighter then then the grief of empyness. Wheather we try to ingore or make light of it our grief like a ton of feathers or a ton of rocks is all the same to us. This much is sure if we lock our grief it will weight more on us. Andlengthen out if we open our hearts with weeping and words others will help carry it away. written and Posted 1/1/10
poem by Susie Sunshine
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Good Grief
Good Grief, For Pete’s Sake and I Swanee To My Time
How many times I’ve used these phrases to express what’s on my mind!
But I’ve had some time to think things through and if you’ll pardon me
I think I’m more confused right now that I ever used to be!
Could someone please explain to me how grief is ever good?
Who the heck got that one started I’ve never understood!
But oh, Good Grief it’s not like I intentionally misled you
You’ve said it too, you know you have and you’re confused now too.
And has anybody ever figured out just who this Pete guy is?
I knew a Pete some time ago, but I don’t think this sake is his.
My mind is reeling now, seems I’m more confused than ever.
And for Pete’s sake don’t try and say you never said it, never!
So here we are at last to the most mind boggling phrase
I Swanee to My Time? What th? My mind is in a haze!
I heard that all my life it seems and from my kin was told
O, I Swanee to my time! Forget it! I’m just too damned old!
So now we have dissected all those cute old phrases here.
I’m sure you will agree with me the meanings now are clear
Good Grief will just confuse you and For Pete’s Sake, don’t you lie!
I Swanee to my time! Uh, hello? You see I have gray hair? Why?
poem by Donna McCord
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Victorious Nights
Theirs is the grief of challenge and servitude,
Forms of livid rage have been understood,
From an age of living and life-saving,
To the very days and nights of mourning.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Equality, rightly understood as our founding fathers understood it, leads to liberty and to the emancipation of creative differences; wrongly understood, as it has been so tragically in our time, it leads first to conformity and then to despotism.
quote by Barry Goldwater
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unknown Grief
Unknown Grief
Mark Kelly Wassenaar (AKA Wazzy)
You never expect to know the word grief
Until it comes to you
It comes in, like a thief
Then you take a critical review
Who really knows what grief is
It could be you, or me, or your teddy bear
If only we could see his
Come with me, I’ll give you a dare
All I ask is that you’ll see
What grief does to you and me
Maybe at the end we’ll all agree
That it need not be all for thee
Have you seen death of one or more
Have they been of love or worse
Does it cause a whole body war
Does it put you in a hearse
If all these apply to you
Maybe you know what grief may be
All this time you withdrew
It makes you feel like abductees
If you like, you may join my cause
Get together with your bands
To end all grief within our paws
To clear our enemy from our hands
poem by Mark Wazzy
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Grief Is Never Having To Say I Grieve
Your grief has been too heavy
I don’t know how much grief buries you down
Please let me weep with you
Please let me weep with you
Like the others, I adore you for keeping up with life
I could imagine how you cry in your thoughts
How like blade, grief cuts your heart, your throat,
the top of your skull - slowly
Like wars in history, there are no exits
and there are no choices
If you were there, you had to face those rattling guns
Plead, please plead
Remember “Our Lady of Sorrows'
Mary carried part of the grief Jesus has
been carrying to save us, during the crucifixion
Mary had no one with her
She was helpless, yet in those moments
God’s strength kept her unmovable and brave
How long does grief stay?
People are not things
How long does grief stay?
If you lost something, you can always build it again
How long does grief stay?
If you lost someone, and someone, and someone
again, in any way – they are part of you
For as long as you live, grief changes into
remembering happy days with each other
Grief becomes faithfulness
Grief changes unto faith
Those drops of blood, while Jesus prayed in the garden
Is grief
Grief is never having to say “I grieve, ”
but “I love, ”
This is how long grief stays.
poem by Rosalinda Flores Martinez
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A grief ago
'There is no grief
which time does not lessen
or soften' -
so said Cicero, a man so often right;
a Stoic, those for whom
all life presents a lesson
to be learned from,
and then, to move on from..
But I wonder about all this:
is grief ever lessened or softened?
Is it not, perhaps, overlaid
in our so various ways?
For some, grief framed and falsified
to ease that grief;
For some, like hyacinths and crocus bulbs,
left in a dark cupboard in the autumn of our grief
to respond to time, and
become at last
themselves?
gently, gently, the covers pulled
over the loving bed,
the true, the pure, the lovely painful grief,
the memory deep cherished,
gently, gently, folded
into the cupboards of the heart
there to be known, without the door disturbed
until the time - 'a grief ago' as Dylan wrote -
the cupboard opened only for love's sake
without grief...:
those carefully folded memories
brought out and loved
and lived a while...
not grief, not grief...but
the pure memory of grief
and behold,
life.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Threats To Keep A People In Grief
How can we seek solutions...
When our denials love to bask,
In a pleasing done by deceit.
How can we non-fictionalize our lives,
When fiction is all we seek.
How can we ever expect to accept the truth,
When none of it is believed.
And how is a greatness once perceived,
So willing to feed decadence...
And allow conflict and division succeed.
All of these may be questions!
But the opportunity to answer them,
Become threats to keep a people in grief.
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
Threats to keep a people in grief.
'Why no one answers them? '
They're threats to keep a people in grief!
'Why? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I'm Not One to Dissect What's Enjoyed
I made an announcement,
Very early in my life
That I was going to write.
No one understood that appetite,
I had for writing.
No one understood it.
But I had to do it to get it done.
No one understood it.
Neither do I still.
I just write.
With a feeding that delights,
A craving that goes unexplained.
Like a desire to be fulfilled.
And I'm not one to dissect what's enjoyed!
What would I then find to nourish...
With such complete love?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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