Office Mottoes
Motto heartening, inspiring,
Framed above my pretty *desk,
Never Shelley, Keats, or Byring*
Penned a phrase so picturesque!
But in me no inspiration
Rides my low and prosy brow-
All I think of is vacation
When I see that lucubration:
DO IT NOW
When I see another sentence
Framed upon a brother's wall,
Resolution and repentance
Do not flood o'er me at all
As I read that nugatory
Counsel written years ago,
Only when one comes to borry[Footnote: Entered under the Pure License of
1906.]
Do I heed that ancient story:
TELL HIM NO
Mottoes flat and mottoes silly,
Proverbs void of point or wit,
'KEEP A-PLUGGIN' WHEN IT'S HILLY!'
'LIFE'S A TIGER: CONQUER IT!'
Office mottoes make me weary
And of all the bromide bunch
There is only one I seri-
Ously like, and that's the cheery:
GONE TO LUNCH
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Related quotes
Interior
Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom
And mottoes on the wall.
There all the things are waxen neat
And set in decorous lines;
And there are posies, round and sweet,
And little, straightened vines.
Her mind lives tidily, apart
From cold and noise and pain,
And bolts the door against her heart,
Out wailing in the rain.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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Keep A-Pluggin' Away
I'VE a humble little motto
That is homely, though it's true, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
It's a thing when I've an object
That I always try to do, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
When you've rising storms to quell,
When opposing waters swell,
It will never fail to tell, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
If the hills are high before
And the paths are hard to climb,
Keep a-pluggin' away.
And remember that successes
Come to him who bides his time, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
From the greatest to the least,
None are from the rule released.
Be thou toiler, poet, priest,
Keep a-pluggin' away.
Delve away beneath the surface,
There is treasure farther down, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
Let the rain come down in torrents,
Let the threat'ning heavens frown,
Keep a-pluggin' away.
When the clouds have rolled away,
There will come a brighter day
All your labor to repay, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
There 'll be lots of sneers to swallow.
There'll be lots of pain to bear, —
Keep a-pluggin' away.
If you've got your eye on heaven,
Some bright day you'll wake up there,
Keep a-pluggin' away.
Perseverance still is king;
Time its sure reward will bring;
Work and wait unwearying,—
Keep a-pluggin' away.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Ferdinando and Elvira
PART I.
At a pleasant evening party I had taken down to supper
One whom I will call ELVIRA, and we talked of love and TUPPER,
MR. TUPPER and the Poets, very lightly with them dealing,
For I've always been distinguished for a strong poetic feeling.
Then we let off paper crackers, each of which contained a motto,
And she listened while I read them, till her mother told her not
to.
Then she whispered, "To the ball-room we had better, dear, be
walking;
If we stop down here much longer, really people will be talking."
There were noblemen in coronets, and military cousins,
There were captains by the hundred, there were baronets by dozens.
Yet she heeded not their offers, but dismissed them with a
blessing,
Then she let down all her back hair, which had taken long in
dressing.
Then she had convulsive sobbings in her agitated throttle,
Then she wiped her pretty eyes and smelt her pretty smelling-
bottle.
So I whispered, "Dear ELVIRA, say, - what can the matter be with
you?
Does anything you've eaten, darling POPSY, disagree with you?"
But spite of all I said, her sobs grew more and more distressing,
And she tore her pretty back hair, which had taken long in
dressing.
Then she gazed upon the carpet, at the ceiling, then above me,
And she whispered, "FERDINANDO, do you really, REALLY love me?"
"Love you?" said I, then I sighed, and then I gazed upon her
sweetly -
For I think I do this sort of thing particularly neatly.
"Send me to the Arctic regions, or illimitable azure,
On a scientific goose-chase, with my COXWELL or my GLAISHER!
"Tell me whither I may hie me - tell me, dear one, that I may know
-
Is it up the highest Andes? down a horrible volcano?"
But she said, "It isn't polar bears, or hot volcanic grottoes:
Only find out who it is that writes those lovely cracker mottoes!"
PART II.
"Tell me, HENRY WADSWORTH, ALFRED POET CLOSE, or MISTER TUPPER,
Do you write the bon bon mottoes my ELVIRA pulls at supper?"
But HENRY WADSWORTH smiled, and said he had not had that honour;
And ALFRED, too, disclaimed the words that told so much upon her.
"MISTER MARTIN TUPPER, POET CLOSE, I beg of you inform us;"
But my question seemed to throw them both into a rage enormous.
MISTER CLOSE expressed a wish that he could only get anigh to me;
And MISTER MARTIN TUPPER sent the following reply to me:
"A fool is bent upon a twig, but wise men dread a bandit," -
Which I know was very clever; but I didn't understand it.
Seven weary years I wandered - Patagonia, China, Norway,
Till at last I sank exhausted at a pastrycook his doorway.
There were fuchsias and geraniums, and daffodils and myrtle,
So I entered, and I ordered half a basin of mock turtle.
He was plump and he was chubby, he was smooth and he was rosy,
And his little wife was pretty and particularly cosy.
And he chirped and sang, and skipped about, and laughed with
laughter hearty -
He was wonderfully active for so very stout a party.
And I said, "O gentle pieman, why so very, very merry?
Is it purity of conscience, or your one-and-seven sherry?"
But he answered, "I'm so happy - no profession could be dearer -
If I am not humming 'Tra! la! la!' I'm singing 'Tirer, lirer!'
"First I go and make the patties, and the puddings, and the
jellies,
Then I make a sugar bird-cage, which upon a table swell is;
"Then I polish all the silver, which a supper-table lacquers;
Then I write the pretty mottoes which you find inside the
crackers." -
"Found at last!" I madly shouted. "Gentle pieman, you astound me!"
Then I waved the turtle soup enthusiastically round me.
And I shouted and I danced until he'd quite a crowd around him -
And I rushed away exclaiming, "I have found him! I have found
him!"
And I heard the gentle pieman in the road behind me trilling,
"'Tira, lira!' stop him, stop him! 'Tra! la! la!' the soup's a
shilling!"
But until I reached ELVIRA'S home, I never, never waited,
And ELVIRA to her FERDINAND'S irrevocably mated!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Centennial Celebration
In the year eighteen seventy-six,
A Fourth of July celebration
Was held in Grand Rapids city
In honor to our nation.
The largest city in the county of Kent,
Is this city, and it is respected,
For thousands of people was here to see
The beautiful arch erected.
The Centennial arch on Campau Place
Was the most principal feature;
It was a grand beautiful sight
To all human sensitive creatures;
To all the people that loved to read
The mottoes on it painted,
The engravings, too, and tell
What each one represented.
The paintings and mottoes on the arch
Was viewed by many people;
It was Colonel Joseph Penney's design,
And his work could not be equalled.
Mr. C. H. Gifford was architect,
He formed the noble structure,
A memento to the Centennial year,
A pride of our nation's culture.
A cabin was built, too, I believe,
That nicely represented
One that the traders built years ago,
This was the only one invented.
Ten thousand people respected it,
This token of early years, with pay;
The honor of this little hut
Was due to Mr. Godfroy.
The stars and stripes was honored, too,
For from a thousand windows waving,
That dear old flag, red, white and blue,
That's loved throughout our nation:
That same flag for one hundred years
Has waved over our nation;
May God let it forever wave
Over our Union celebration.
The people in the city, friends,
Was an honor to our nation,
For they all joined heart and hand
In our Union celebration.
Some gave money, other labor,
To maintain what was intended.
It was a success, some people said,
Who here that day attended.
That day will never be forgot
By the people of Kent county,
God bless the people who joined that day
In the honor of our country.
The people in the city, friends,
Dearly loved this nation,
For they saved no time or expense
In our Centennial celebration.
poem by Julia A Moore
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A Pig's-Eye View Of Literature
The Lives and Times of John Keats,
Percy Bysshe Shelley, and
George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron
Byron and Shelley and Keats
Were a trio of Lyrical treats.
The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls,
And Keats never was a descendant of earls,
And Byron walked out with a number of girls,
But it didn't impair the poetical feats
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.
poem by Dorothy Parker
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On Riding Tigers
When riding a tiger in the hunt
You learn to dismount
Very carefully so that
You don't become the tiger's lunch.
Such it is with Wall Street today
As they continue on their spendthrift way,
With the housing market going flat
The investors are discovering that
Other things are also inflated
And like a tire can be deflated.
Case in point (as tho one is needed)
Is the Blackstone founder; most greedy.
He stands to harvest quite a load of nuts
Regardless of the 'if, ands or buts.'
And like van Winkle rising from his nap
Congress is curious to what is going on about.
Pass a law is their answer to everything
In the absence of thought or reasoning.
Another surprise that is in store
Is the coming pressure on investment house's lore
Till now seemed to be immune from market woes
But alas, along comes Bear Stearns, just one of those.
When there is a money crunch
Not far behind is the lawyer bunch
Who will gather up the fallen nuts from the tree
(Haps, they'll share some of the bounty with you and me?)
So while the smart investor twist and turns
One has to ask if they'll ever learn.
And the tiger grows fat and lazy.
poem by Sidi J. Mahtrow
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To Groves
Ye silent shades, whose each tree here
Some relique of a saint doth wear;
Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove
The fire and martyrdom of Love:--
Here is the legend of those saints
That died for love, and their complaints;
Their wounded hearts, and names we find
Encarved upon the leaves and rind.
Give way, give way to me, who come
Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom!
And have deserved as much, Love knows,
As to be canonized 'mongst those
Whose deeds and deaths here written are
Within your Greeny-kalendar.
--By all those virgins' fillets hung
Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung
For saints and souls departed hence,
Here honour'd still with frankincense;
By all those tears that have been shed,
As a drink-offering to the dead;
By all those true-love knots, that be
With mottoes carved on every tree;
By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me;
By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest
Of all those other saints now blest,
Me, me forsaken,--here admit
Among your myrtles to be writ;
That my poor name may have the glory
To live remember'd in your story.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Like a seed
It’s impossible to force
A good piece of writing
It can only come from inspiration
It should flow from the mind
To the fingers and then
Through the keyboard
To the screen
A good piece of writing
Will come of it’s own volition
Without urging, yet with compulsion.
A certain musical phrase you’ve read
A lyrical play of words
That sticks in your mind
Can be the impetus for the lifting
Of the flood gates of inspiration
And once opened, has a compulsive
Addiction, that can be indulged freely
And yet will not be denied
Write down every sentence
or fragment thereof, any phrase
That catches your fancy
and feels good on the tongue
A good piece of writing
Has a sensual quality
That one can almost taste
As it’s written, and can be shared
Wantonly with readers
who choose to indulge
A good piece of writing
is a seed that is planted
In one’s mind, and from which
The words effortlessly grow
It can never be forced
or be pushed to the fore
It will grow from that seed
And will blossom before your eyes
It can grow freely, unfettered
From the most minute idea
But good writing, like a seed
Can never be forced to grow
poem by David Whalen
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Animal Awareness
I had a man
Stand on a point
And look out into a void
Framed by the outline of himself.
The point was at the entrance to a cave.
The entrance,
Shaped like him, legs akimbo,
Each arm outstretched to the side,
Resembled a five-legged star,
The point, the lowest crotch of the star.
To relieve the white of the void,
Behind the entrance to the cave
I painted five conical pines
The apex of each at a crotch of the legs of the star.
The void became a sky
Above the peaks of the pines.
Further back inside the cave
I drew a geometrical detail
Of a beetle's fabulous wing,
and another of such obscurity
I was buried in the part
Unsure of knowing the whole.
What's more,
I was without a need to know
What lies BEYOND the whole,
or lies beyond the HOLE.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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A resolution to avoid an evil is seldom framed till the evil is so far advanced as to make avoidance impossible.
quote by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The resolution to avoid an evil is seldom framed till the evil is so far advanced as to make avoidance impossible.
quote by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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from "Hugh Selwyn Mauberly"
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old scene.Wrong from the start--
No, hardly, but seeing he had been born
In a half-savage country, out of date;
Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;
[idmen gar toi pant, hos eni Troiei]
Caught in the unstopped ear;
Giving the rocks small lee-way
The chopped seas held him, therefore, that year.
His true Penelope was Flaubert,
He fished by obstinate isles;
Observed the elegance of Circe's hair
Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials.
Unaffected by "the march of events,"
He passed from men's memory in l'an trentuniesme
De son eage; the case presents
No adjunct to the Muses' diadem.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Christmas Wishes
Here’s wishing you all a happy time,
On Jesus’ birth, let celebrations swing,
Hear all the bells begin to chime,
And listen with joy to the carolling.
Presents wrapped up and tied with bows,
Everyone is such a chosen gift.
Crackers filled with fun mottoes,
Giving every tired heart a lift.
Santa comes visiting on his sleigh,
Boys and girls, their presents bring.
And as on that Royal child’s birthday,
We send praises to the new born king.
Wishes too, for a good New Year.
Peace, love and happiness abound.
And for you and all those that you hold dear,
May God’s blessings always shine around.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Guest In The Guinness-known Tallest
@ Burj Khalifa
At first you were for me
the photo landmark of
how far to where I have been
You were the most amazing
man - made creation so far
that I have ever seen
Your glass-framed wall
untouchable as the azure sky
so impossible to get at by
for the less fortunate passers-by
You were dwarfing me then
upon gazing at your
unreachable aspire
But your ' untouchable ' sense
had been subsided
when you let me in beyond expectation
but through fate of rekindling
my self-abandoned passion-
in pushing the pen to make you think.......
The once astonishing structure
now is but a mere building
with height advantage lording over the rest
I never thought you would welcome me
and you have such awe-inspiring
hidden warmth hospitality
that couldn't be captured even thru
high-end digitally zoomed eye;
eventually, you have been extending my home and
pretty soon, you will be my wife my son comfort zone
still I ask,
who am I to be a guest
in the world known as the tallest?
poem by Rommelmarkmarchan Best Poems
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Romantic Poets Forever!
Spirit of poets immortal intoxicates me complete
With poetic mood transporting to exotic world
Full of magic, vision and fantasy never ending
Making poet and reader forget in the vast Universe!
Poets of the calibre of Coleridge, Shelley and Keats
Engross one in pure poetry inspiring high forever
Whenever the mood is out of control even for a while
By their intoxicating romantic expressions ever!
Romantic poets of the first order still rule the realm
As what they have created for the world to enjoy
Make poetry an endless source of inspiration
Changing all ever bright with sparks of ideas novel!
Whenever I am out of mood I seek their blessings
To recharge and recover the lost mood to write ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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I mean to say that Congress can hereafter decide whether any states, slave or free, can be framed out of Texas. If they should never be framed out of Texas, they never could be admitted.
quote by William H. Seward
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inspiration
Through you I find great inspiration.
All around such jubilation.
Far away from recriminations.
Inspiring lengths of grace.
Fear and doubt leave without a trace.
You always put me in a speacial place.
Inspiring me to do things right.
I want to be your courageous knight.
Commiting acts of greatness for your plight.
I'd never show you the smallest slight.
Your inspiration breeds my righteous fight.
I'll always be there day and night.
You always bring inspiring light.
So let us share the greatest life.
Our inspiration frees us from the strife.
The greatest tale of inspired love.
Bestowed upon us from above
poem by Michael McParland
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On Vacation
My family went on a vacation
I gave my father all the persuasion
Can I go and wander in the forest
To catch at least a tiny little pest
Very dangerous it is for you to go there
There will be a lion, tiger or a big black bear
He told me, to these things pay heed
But I thought these are things I don’t need
I went to the depth of the forest
But couldn’t catch a single pest
Thinking about things I shouldn’t care
A lion, tiger or a big black bear
I started going towards a cave
Suddenly a loud roar it gave
I thought this was a good part of my vacation
When suddenly I felt suffocation
I heard the loud roar again
I felt as if I was trapped in a monster’s den
The loud roar had really given me a scare
It could be a lion, tiger or a big black bear
First it’s my life I have to save
I quickly ran out of the cave
To these things I should pay heed
Go to that cave I won’t dare indeed
poem by Risha Ahmed
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Evil Time Place Person Past Era Convict
this is the great age instant
the time is now now now now
personal satisfaction instant
is believed perceived relieved
in instant access on line now
games games games trends
now now now twitter facebook
escape from past never look
back into demons of time past
in the past I don't
believe in the past
mottoes transcend
raw responsibilities
memories ignored
demons not executed
binding by oath don’t
review pain raw past
deaths not appeased
exorcism exorcismus must
religious practice demons evict
war crimes time place haunt
spiritual entities ghosts haunt
a person a place evil site haunt
dark spirit demon possessed
spiritual beliefs each exorcist
expel past horror appease past
take crime to court appease past
causing entity to swear oath now
perform an elaborate ritual convict
simply judge command sentence now
crime depart in justice time court now
in name of present higher power convict
exorcism practice is time psyche ancient
cultures religions belief system exorcist
feelings gone suppressed bite hurt haunt
nothing to do with me any more now evict
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Blackwater In Flood
The Boggeragh hills white in January snow
In ancient Duhallow where the Blackwater flow
Through that old flat countryside by Derrinagree
On it's way through North Cork on it's way to the sea.
The Blackwater in flood it has a mighty roar
As it rumbles along to the Atlantic shore
It floods across the land like a great inland tide
And in water covers the fields of it's banks either side.
The Blackwater in flood is amazing to see
Awe inspiring that's how it did seem to me
As it rages through Dromtarriffe in flood waters of brown
Through the flat countryside on towards old Mallow Town.
The Blackwater in flood it inspires awe and fear
When it bursts it's banks tis not safe to go near
Swollen by heavy rains and the melting of snow
To human or beast mercy it does not show.
Memories of cold January of frost, snow, Wind and rain
And of the Blackwater in flood with me does remain
It submerges the fields like a great inland tide
As it rages it's way through the old countryside.
poem by Francis Duggan
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