To Novella
An Epigram
You cry, She's bred in the Old Way;
Then into Laughter fall:
Were she as just to you, she'd say,
You are not bred at all.
poem by Mary Barber
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Gasoline Alley Bred
Woman, get your head out of curlers.
Time get your butt out of bed.
Get down your hats and baggage, my child.
Going back home,
going back to the homestead.
I'm a-gonna heat me some water,
and put a shine upon my shoes.
Telephone my ma,
Keep the room above Joe's
'Cause we're coming back,
coming back to the homestead.
Everything is packed,
getting back to the homestead.
This time, this time we'll stay.
I know that we could have made it;
we had ideas in our heads.
And I wish somehow
we could have saved it
but we're Gasoline Alley bred.
Yet the years haven't really been wasted,
and I know it in my head.
We did good for the life that we've tasted
'cause we're Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley bred
Woman, you can really believe it,
I did everything a man could do.
Breaking my back just to make us a dime.
That won't mean a damn
when no one wants to know you.
Woman, I know how you're feeling.
I've seen the hurt upon your face.
How many time do you think that I've cried?
Knowing every day that your heart was getting broken,
holdin' back your pride til you were nearly chokin'
Oh let's get away.
chorus
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
Gasoline Alley, Gasoline Alley Bred
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Status of women
Among horses, some are bred to plough,
Some to pull, some to race and some to gallop.
Among men, some are bred to labour,
Some to serve, some to fight and some to guide.
Female sex in both is degraded to the fifth.
As breeding ground they are kept.
19.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Shame measures culture
Living in clusters begot societies,
Which bred cultures which in turn bred ethics.
Defiance is shame, which rules one’s conduct.
The stronger the shame, the richer the culture.
27.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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In my mind, there is nothing so illiberal, and so ill-bred, as audible laughter.
quote by Lord Chesterfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I love watching a good horse do what he's bred to do - I guess that's what I like the most about it. And I love to see good athletes do what they're bred to do.
quote by Wilford Brimley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But whoever gives birth to useless children, what would you say of him except that he has bred sorrows for himself, and furnishes laughter for his enemies.
To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing
NOW all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours' eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Is love sacred?
Love bred jealousy,
Jealousy bred hatred,
And hatred, anger.
How is love sacred?
21.04.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.
quote by Lord Byron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Aint Got The Blues
Well, Im a little light-headed
But my body feels the same
And it feels like fallin on down
And find another name
But the sand in my shoes
May trickle to my brain
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame
Oh yeah, something more tame.
Well the sound of the drums
Is pounding in my head
Like ten thousand dancers
With bodies full of lead
And I feel like a bull
With an eye-full of red
Well, I aint got the blues
But something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred
Oh yeah, something better bred.
If tomorrow sees another
Kind of farm I know
Well, the people and the soldiers
And the gypsies groan
It would be like a wonder
And I cannot let it go
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow
Oh yeah, something more slow.
But the people in the cities
And the other ones too
Aint got too many wonders
That theyre not tied to
And I cant help but feeling
As Im wearing straight through
Well, I aint got the blues
But something more true
Oh yeah, something more true
Oh yeah, something more true.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankae(Decor) -98
Epigram quatrain -, meaning 'to write on or inscribe' The epigram is a 4 line unit of narrative verse which is a brief clever often satirical saying. Rhyme and meter are optional. Two quatrains can also be written for an epigram
On Cyber Space
Certainly you're the lord like the lord in heaven
Invisible yet visible in the harem of scribbles
Good or bad sounding in rainbow-silence
Certainly you're the lord like the lord in heaven
poem by Indira Renganathan
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New Bread
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are the new breed
We are the future
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
Born, bred, beaten
Born, bred, beaten
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
Born, bred, beaten
Born, bred, beaten (x2)
Chorus:
New breed, new breed
New breed, new breed
We are immune to life itself
Cold rules are reality
We have control of destiny
We have control of what's to be
Born, bred, beaten
Born, bred, beaten (x2)
Repeat chorus
New breed, we are the new breed
New breed, we are the future
New breed, we are the new breed
New breed, we are the future
New breed
New breed
New breed (x3
song performed by by Fear Factory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What You Get
The machines of metal is driven by war, the gears are turning into the most gruesome of fears - Nuclear destruction by the hands of men, over and over, again and again - Bombs which litter the clear blue skies, fatherless children to the innocent which dies - Hate is bred by the lack of respect, the lack of respect is the hate which is bred - Armies of the damned bleeds on the blood soaked sand, burning fires flames on this savage land - Victory is signalled by the bones of the dead, what you read is the lies told, the truth will not be told and will never be said - When blood flows rivers red, death is true and that is what you get
poem by Unic Cjonr
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Cajun Born
I was born on the bayou
Thirty miles of Layfayette
My daddy was a cajun man
Lord he taught us how to plow
I remember mama's breakfast
Cush Cush and a Kaye
Being served on a Banyee
Oh, I wish I had some now.
I'm a cajun born
I'm a cajun bred
When I die
I'm a cajun dead
If I die in Alaska
If I die in Ohio
This soul will find its way
Back to the bayou.
We went to church every sunday
We had a French speaking preacher man
Joked about the preacher man
'Cause we thought he wore a dress.
After church we had a party
We played the music on the phonograph
We had a man singing Jole Blan
Made a sinner out of me.
I'm a cajun born
I'm a cajun bred
When I die
I'm a cajun dead
If I die in Alaska
If I die in Ohio
This soul will find its way
Back to the bayou.
When I'm ready to be married
I'm going to be this cajun lady
Some sorta like my mamma
'Cause there ain't no other kind.
'Cause there ain't no other kind.
Wherever fortune takes me
If it makes me or it breaks me
It's memories will forsake me
Louisiana on my mind.
I'm a cajun born
I'm a cajun bred
When I die
I'm a cajun dead
If I die in Alaska
If I die in Ohio
This soul will find its way
Back to the bayou.
If I die in Alaska
If I die in Ohio
This soul will find it's way
Back to the bayou...
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Appointment
BEING out of heart with government
I took a broken root to fling
Where the proud, wayward squirrel went,
Taking delight that he could spring;
And he, with that low whinnying sound
That is like laughter, sprang again
And so to the other tree at a bound.
Nor the tame will, nor timid brain,
Nor heavy knitting of the brow
Bred that fierce tooth and cleanly limb
And threw him up to laugh on the bough;
No govermnent appointed him.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill-bred it is!
quote by Catullus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As for my brothers, of whom I had three, I know not how they were bred.
quote by Margaret Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Better were it to be unborn than to be ill bred.
quote by Walter Raleigh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's bred in the bone will never out of the flesh.
What's bred in the bone will come out in the flesh.