A Preacher Without Practice
A tree is useless if
its fruits are not fit to eat
The beautiful flowers in the garden
Are monotonous if they are without fragrance
The dark vapour laden clouds seem to be a mirage
If they pass without rain
Likewise a preacher without practice is worthless
What is the use of of being learned
If his knowledge is devoid of practice?
It will never benefit the people.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Practice Every Step
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no sleeping for someone who has a place to go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Focus on that goal,
And tighten on your hold,
And...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Every journey taken,
Must be thought of as a race...
And,
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no other way to straighten out a crooked road,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
No matter what you're told,
There will be some doubts and woes...
But you,
Practice every step.
Yes you,
Practice every step.
Woes you hold will eventually go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Storm
Growling and howling,
An uninvited guest,
Arrives with different seeds and leaves,
From unknown land,
And sprinkles them in the fields,
From these seeds come out, Beautiful flowers
And then delicious fruits,
Then the wild spirit moves for another land,
With her departure she predicts
The arrival of rain,
As there is a commotion in the Bay of Bengal,
The clouds laden with vapour rise from
The Bay and make us wait for their arrival,
And in few days rain covers every part of land,
A heavy downpour washes the whole landscape,
The gardens, the mountains, the valleys
All wear new and beautiful look,
The storm leaves such a glory after her.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flowers, Beautiful Flowers
Life is that precious and divine,
Souls journey as per schedule,
Visit places and people,
smile and laugh,
Weep and cry together,
Come alone and go alone,
Nothing brought, nothing taken!
Just it is like flower,
Blossom and spread its fragrance,
Put a signature on several hearts,
Gone flower, never come,
Memory of its beauty,
Aura remains all the time everywhere
In hearts of those who had seen it!
People too are like flowers,
That flowers in the garden of divine,
Some are beautiful,
Some by their wisdom and knowledge,
Some with deeds and virtues,
Flowers, beautiful flowers of God's Garden!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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My Sorrow
As if my sorrow knows no bound
Its roots are deep in my heart’s ground.
Its branches are high up in the sky
Its fruits are sweet no one can defy.
Its leaves are green as if it won’t die
It’s like a rain tree so it can cry.
Its flowers have very sweet fragrance
It attracts people from a distance.
Its flowers are no doubt colorful
God trims it with His gardening tool.
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You've got to learn your instrument. Then, you practice, practice, practice. And then, when you finally get up there on the bandstand, forget all that and just wail.
quote by Charlie Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know you've heard it a thousand times before. But it's true - hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, practice. If you don't love something, then don't do it.
quote by Ray Bradbury
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Whoever acquires knowledge but does not practice it is as one who ploughs but does not sow.
Saadi in Gulistan (The Rose Garden) (1258)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Other people - they practice and they practice... these fingers of mine, they got brains in 'em. You don't tell them what to do - they do it. God given talent.
quote by Jerry Lee Lewis
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 50
A disciple without intention is a lover without money; a traveller without knowledge is a bird without wings; a scholar without practice is a tree without fruit, and a devotee without science is a house without a door. The Qaroon (Korah) was revealed for the acquisition of a good character, not for chanting written chapters. A pious unlettered man is like one who travels on foot, whilst a negligent scholar is like a sleeping rider. A sinner who lifts his hands in supplication is better than a devotee who keeps them proudly on his head.
A good humoured and pleasant military officer
Is superior to a theologian who injures men.
One being asked what a learned man without practice resembled, replied: ‘A bee without honey.’
Say to the rude and unkind bee,
‘At least forbear to sting, if thou givest no honey.’
Pornography is the instruction. Rape is the practice, battered women are the practice, and battered children are the practice.
quote by Gloria Steinem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School is practice for future life, practice makes perfect and nobodys perfect, so why practice?
quote by Billie Joe Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can practice to attain knowledge, but you can't practice to attain wisdom.
quote by Herbie Hancock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 02
Two men took useless trouble and strove without any profit, when one of them accumulated property without enjoying it, and the other learnt without practising what he had learnt.
However much science thou mayest acquire
Thou art ignorant when there is no practice in thee.
Neither deeply learned nor a scholar will be
A quadruped loaded with some books.
What information or knowledge does the silly beast posses
Whether it is carrying a load of wood or of books?
Love Sonnet 58 There is a garden, verdant, beautiful,
There is a garden, verdant, beautiful,
With roses red and violets so blue,
The same as in love songs, so plentiful,
Except that in this garden there is you;
As I lay with the lilies, swaying free,
And tender breeze exudes with their fragrance,
I feel a thousand brides surrounding me,
Like Solomon, if all to wed at once;
Methinks, a moonlit plain is best of climes,
When not in night of darkness, such disgrace,
And so, true to the practice of the times,
I plan to bribe the moon to stay in place;
…..Talking to plants is good, as I recall,
…..At times, you would not talk to me at all.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Your Spirit Right
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
Of prayer...
Everyday.
You can!
Care less about the he said,
Or she said...
Conflicting pickers of fights.
They'll keep you awake with sleepless nights.
Be true to your practice,
In active...
Prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Erratic tactics,
Keep captive...
With distractions,
To minimize your pride.
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
With swift actions of your prayers...
Everyday.
You can!
Get your spirit right!
Let backbiters do what they do.
You can choose not to approve!
Just keep your practice,
Active...
In prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Practice Maker Perfect
D. roberts / e. gold
If practice makes perfect
Lets try that old embrace
In some romantic place
Where we can take out time
If practice makes perfect
Just close you eyes again
Well try those sights again
And make them more sublime
Were in loves kindergarden
Learning from a to z
And if its fun just starting
Think what its going to be
If practice makes perfect
Lets have that kiss again
We mustn miss again
Were not doing bad right now
Were not doing bad
Lets practice some more
Were not doing bad right now
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reservation For One
This is my tree, my tree, my tree,
My one lone tree, pear tree,
It grows, overflows, it grows it’s fruit,
Alone, only for me.
If I could go to a far-away place,
With just me and my tree, pear tree,
I’d pack my bags, my bags I’d pack,
I’d pick up my bags and flee.
There’s nothing at all, no nothing,
At all, that films me more with glee,
Than those globes, those globes,
Of precious fruit in my tree, pear tree.
I sit beneath, beneath I sit,
Its laden canopy, I polish it’s leafs then,
Set a table of fruits,
Of wine, and bread and brie.
This tree, my tree, could feed the world,
Find me a wife and camaraderie,
It’s powers, it’s powers are vast but I
Can’t pass on its secret sadly.
I’d tell the world, the world I’d tell,
If they weren’t all so hungry, you see.
But my fruit, my fruits, my laboured.
Fruits, I grew only for me, for me,
No none are as hungry as me.
poem by Suzanne Louise Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rain-tree
Rain-tree
The rain-tree is of cassia family -
Like an elephant it stands on the road, clothed
With thick green foliage, dark against the sky
All along the Bandra-Kurla road in Mumbai.
You have to exert a little and see
Over the top to see the nazuna-type
Of pink flowers sitting above the foliage
In plentiful numbers, with up-thrust pink hairs.
Unlike the African tulip in front of ONGC
At Bandra Flyover visible from the distance,
Here the pink and green does not show off
As rain-tree flowers don’t advertise themselves.
Unlike copper-pod’s bright yellow flowers
The rain tree flowers don’t weave a carpet:
I’ve never seen the flowers on the ground below
Nor do they wither on the tree, how I wonder!
In monsoon rains, the leaves shine specially,
Transparent drops falling on walkers below,
Or with a thud on the racing car bonnets too,
Some choose to fall on road to rise a bit upwards.
I have not understood why it is called rain-tree:
Are they attracted, peacock-like, to the rain-clouds,
Or does the rain-bird which drinks water straight from heavens
Prefer this tree, and inspire Kalidasa to write Meghdoot?
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Winter Garden
Winter has visited our garden my love
Trees have been stripped bare and flowers wilt
A frost has been laid upon the ground
Even the birds have taken to flight, away
Amid the silence of the morning I walk
Through our garden which we nurtured
How solemn it now looks without colour
The summer seems but a distant memory
How beautiful it looked back then
How beautiful it will look once more
But now in the mornings drab light
With barren trees and wilted flowers
I walk upon the hardened earth
Which feels like stone beneath my feet
We talked of planting a fruit tree
For flavour and shade in years to come
Now that is an idea in waiting
Till winter has passed, and spring returns
Winter is here in our garden my love
As I watch the vapour of my breath rise
I say your name, a love for all time
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Rain, it shall rain
Dust rises, sky-wind snakes
Flowers bow their heads
Cracked are grany’s lips
Emaciated mother, a calf suckles
Clouds form and pass
Lightening I remember
Yester- night, horizon yonder
Rain, it shall rain
Beautiful flowers, cool and green
It shall rain.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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