The Tailor Then And Now
He desired
To stoop to his work
Every inch of his load
Raised on to his shoulder
Added pressure
Pedalling to account
His life-lines
Marked by destiny's quill
He used to mend the wrong
He motors
On the fashion-ramp
Flowery colours assist
Transforming style
Elegance goes by inverse law
Dwarf the garment
Giant the payment
Wrongs are fashioned
Tailor has been well mended
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
The flowery style is not unsuitable to public speeches or addresses, which amount only to compliment. The lighter beauties are in their place when there is nothing more solid to say; but the flowery style ought to be banished from a pleading, a sermon, or a didactic work.
The Miniature Woman
The Blue-Eyed Giant, the Miniature Woman
and the Honeysuckle
He was a blue-eyed giant,
He loved a miniature woman.
The woman's dream was of a miniature house
with a garden where honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
The giant loved like a giant,
and his hands were used to such big things
that the giant could not
make the building,
could not knock on the door
of the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
at that house.
He was a blue-eyed giant,
he loved a miniature woman,
a mini miniature woman.
The woman was hungry for comfort
and tired of the giant's long strides.
And bye bye off she went to the embraces of a rich dwarf with a garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house.
Now the blue-eyed giant realizes,
a giant isn't even a graveyard for love:
in the garden where the honeysuckle grows
in a riot of colours
that sort of house...
poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Crazy For Fashion
Birds do beautifully display
Their feathers in the skies
Lions proudly show off
Their brittle hairs in the jungles
Peacock flaunts her feathers
Around the courtyards
Snails are comfortable in their shells
Man, God's image is confused in himself.
Man is ashamed of Godly nature
Crazy outfits are designed
To display nookies and crannies
Skins are bleached to change colours
Tattoos are engraved to flaunt around
Hair colours are changed
Like the garment of masquerade
Man, never satisfy with nature
Man's insatiable craze
For fashion runs like oceans
He has a face-lift,
Do liposuction and implants,
Have a tummy tuck
And even brigthens his teeth
All in the name of fashion
Its just crazy fashion
Why this rat race?
Why tampering with natural beauty?
Is God no more perfect?
Are these really fashion?
No, they are destrucion
In the name of fashion
Its just fashion crazy
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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A Man
I am a man as a man I've been told
Bacon is brought to the house in this mold
Born of your bellies I yearn for the cord
Years I have groveled repentance ignored
And I have been blamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
I am man who has grown from a son
Been crucified by enraged women
I am son who was raised by such men
I'm often reminded of the fools I'm among
And I have been shamed
And I have relented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And I have been shamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
we don't fare well with endless reprimands
we don't do well with a life served as a sentence
this won't work well if you're hell bent on your offence
I am a man who understands your resistance
I am a man who still does what he can
to dispel our archaic reputation
I am a man who has heard all he can
cuz I don't fare well with endless punishment
Cuz I have been blamed and I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And we have been blamed and we have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
song performed by by Alanis Morissette from Under Rug Swept
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Malefactors
Some malefactors divide the society,
Some cause illness to distinguish density.
This is not bad administration but an emblem of trust,
A logo of some importance, but not exactly catchiest.
The madding crowd is obliterated by the felons
Who stage unimportant work, the real abominations.
The moustache of a criminal will lift higher
When he lies and pants for forcing the life easier.
This generates long-drawn-out affairs
When a garment is broken, and only who cares
What garlands are mended on the arrival of felons
If felonies are broken by the police additions.
A gargantuan payment has been brought
By the mayor of the city of felony,
Any malefactors will perish from the garlands.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I’m an Older Man Than You
WHEN you’ve managed with the tailor for a rig-out of a sort
And you find the coat or trousers are an inch or so too short,
Do not fret and swear and worry, make the tailor see you through—
I have been through many new suits, I’m an older man than you.
When your girl is interfering with your appetite and work,
With your sleep and time and reason till the jealous demons lurk;
When your girl is playing with you, leave her for a week or two:
If in vain, then quit for ever!—I’m an older man than you.
When your wife deceives or leaves you for a “blackguard”, “brute”, and “sot”,
And when not a soul believes you when you say that you were not;
Do not rave or brood and weaken, and the years will prove you true,
Let your own self be the beacon!—I’m an older man than you.
Do not take a silly mistress in your vanity accursed,
And a second wife (or husband) but reminds you of the first;
Banish mutual friends, and pity (kill or cure relations, too),
Shun false “reconciliation”—I’m an older man than you.
Be the cause however worthy, and your case however strong,
Be your wrong however cruel, drink will put you in the wrong.
Drink will neutralize and murder all the good that time can do
(Though our birthdays come together, I’m an older man than you).
But for ever and for ever, over seas and through the lands,
Go the hand laid on the shoulder and the silent grip of hands
With a world of human feeling—men who know and men who knew:
Clear your soul of pessimism—I’m an older man than you.
poem by Henry Lawson
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I don't know why my lines that were cut from the film didn't make it onto the DVD. I have offered to go into the editing room with Christopher and work shoulder to shoulder with him to fit all my lines in. I think he thinks I'm kidding. I'm only trying to help.
quote by Fred Willard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pressure Point
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I've paid all my bills and I've acted so well
Ain't been cheating, there's nothing to tell
So why all this pressure, I dont understand
I call on my neighbours, and lend them a hand
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Mother, oh mother, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
... (?) told you what I have become
With all of this pressure, my mind's on a run
... (?) changing, let's hope for the best
Maybe it's something to get off my chest
Doctor, oh doctor, I'm begging you please
To rid me of madness and cure this disease
Mother, oh mother, I'm willing to learn
Well all of my bones, well they toss and they turn
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
I feel it in work, you know, I feel it in bed
I can't get this pressure point out of my head
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
Pressure pressure pressure pressure...
song performed by by Zutons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm too old-fashioned to use a computer. I'm too old-fashioned to use a quill.
quote by Christopher Plummer
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Colours
Colours are just colours
One might suppose
Rage is red…
But then again…
so is a rose
So colours are more
Than they seem, don’t’ you think
For boys it’s usually blue
For little girls always pink
Yep, colours are colours
Perhaps that’s all they should be
Just something to look at
Only something to see
But colours have emotion
At least they do to me
Perhaps I just don’t see hues
In the same way
that you see
Because blue to me
Is more than just a hue
It’s the sky, it’s berries,
Oceans … and sadness too
Green is envy, grass and dinero
Purple is royalty, plums and passion
Yellow is cowardice, butter and tallow
Colours are … whatever you wish to fashion
Perhaps I see colours differently than you
Perhaps exactly the same way… I hope
But my advice to you, whatever you do
Is … don’t get me started on taupe! !
poem by David Whalen
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A dwarf standing on the shoulders of a giant may see farther than a giant himself.
quote by Robert Burton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The added work load of a degree has made me focus a lot more when I am in work.
quote by Benjamin Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegance is not a profession, elegance is a destiny.
aphorism by Costel Zăgan (8 February 2019)
Submitted by Costel Zăgan
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Your Are A Marked Person
Control your thoughts. Your feelings, your emotions, your desires and you control your life, your destiny. Many sayings go like this or are different versions of it. There is too much control and too little understanding, love, empathy and wisdom already, I say, Connect to your depths, to your heart, to God, to the source, be your self, be your destiny. Your pain, your fears, your mistakes, the pains you suffered is God's, is life, is creation letting you know that it believes in you so now you have more understanding to really assist others through their pain. Your pain is God's way, life's way, your ancestors way of giving you a burning drive that does not go away with tricks, with fake remedies, seductive slogans, paid for spirituality, your are a marked person with an unfolding plan to increase our human wisdom, freedom, intelligence, generosity and love.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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My Prince Charming
I'm looking for a man, a prince of a man. He
doesn't have to be knockout gorgeous like
the one who bedazzled Cinderella, nor does
he have to be as tall, dark or handsome as
any typical fairy-tale man.
He doesn't necessarily have to be athletic,
there will be no need for him to climb a tall
tower on braided hair, swing from vines tree
to tree, nor fight his way through briars to kiss
me on the lips.
He doesn't have to be a giant but he must be
a few feet taller than the tallest seventh dwarf,
or at least as tall as two of them combined.
I'm looking for a man, one who's as hot as a
gingerbread man fresh out of the oven. He
must possess more fashion sense than
Robin Hood yet have his good aim, especially
in bed. And while in bed, he can howl like a
wolf if he wants to, but I better never find him
dressed up in my grandmother's clothes.
It would be okay if he chose to live life a
little dangerously, but he must possess
enough sense to know when not to sit on a
wall and fall and break his head.
In all instances he must be able to look me
in the eye and tell me the truth and not
make me have to chant, Liar, liar, pants on
fire while his nose grows longer inch by inch.
If he eats my bowl of porridge he has to be
able to fess up and I never want to have to
ask him, Who's been sleeping in my bed?
He must have his wits about him and have
enough common sense to know whether he's
wearing a new set of clothes or is in fact,
butt naked.
It's okay if he lets off a little steam now and
then, but he can't be a bully and must never
huff and puff, cigarettes.
If you meet the above qualifications, give me a
call. Who knows, if we hit it off, we just might
have the chance to live happily ever after.
The End.
poem by Betty Bleen
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Through the Way
I remember,
two years before
I started my voyage
on a river by a boat
It was my happiest
ever moment in life
I enjoyed it a lot
It was full of excitement
It was now a past memory
because the river now ended
into a large sea
I now confused where to row my boat
But there are many payment ships
to reach the final destiny
But i am royal
I will not take it
I have decided now,
I will jump into the sea
and reach my destiny through
pain and hard work.
poem by Sabari Vas
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If you are out to describe the truth, leave elegance to the tailor.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grace Along The Way
I need God’s Grace every day, to deal with people along the way,
Those people who appear to be, unruly at times and unkind to me.
I need to be a prevailing light, when I’m wronged, to do what’s right.
For when I enter my work place, men must see His love and grace.
Work is not the problem friend, but the people with whom I contend.
They’re not happy you can say, until they’ve ruined someone’s day.
They even make short days long, never seeing what they do wrong.
And it’s Grace that helps me cope, when there seems to be no hope.
Grace gives one an Eternal view, to temper all that you say and do.
All the wrong that’s done to me, is small when compared to Eternity.
Friend, I was once of that mind, and would say and do things unkind.
But Christ has truly set me free, from righting the wrong done to me.
Change in my life was wrought, when by Christ Jesus I was bought,
When Christ shed his blood for me, upon a wicked cross at Calvary.
It is the bloods transforming power, working in my heart every hour,
Transforming my ways of life, through the Holy Spirit sent by Christ.
My life must become a sacrifice, to draw other men to Jesus Christ.
And bitterness one can not afford, as a witness for Christ our Lord.
Friend, daily I must make a choice, to become embittered or rejoice,
So I rejoice in my Lord Jesus Christ, who died for me to give me life.
(Copyright ©11/2005)
A Flower To Auroville Mother-36
Zinnia, (Common zinnia
Botanical name: Zinnia elegans)
Zinnia, big and small and colours all
Single and double and semidouble
Zinnia of dwarf and medium and tall
For borders or pots cut and whole
Zinnia, no trouble in low, medium soil
With oval leaves rough yet beautiful
Zinnia, its essence to lighten the soul
For it's from sun's flowery sprawl
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Old Ones
The old ones knew that black was hate,
White garment purity and red one sin;
They spoke the language of the trees
And opened veins to let love in.
These old ones, feeling life was brief
And brittle as the fire-baked shard,
Could find no seat for sentiment,
So mended weakness with a sword.
In them the heart was made of gold,
But mind was forged of steel so sharp
That hand which plucked the harp could shape
From father's skull a drinking cup.
The old ones' fashion we have lost,
Whose red is passion, white deceit;
In casting devil from the flesh,
Who perish with the bread we eat.
poem by Henry Treece
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