Bottomless Pit
The bottomless pit is ceasing to be alien,
A championship arrives to be a good play,
Playing is like childhood in a thought,
Playing with me as a ball-game will grow.
Children shall await the disaster of growth,
Growing when it is sudden is special.
The pit so exhausts a soul that emptiness
Shall deliver everybody into an oblivion.
Exaltation appears to the reliable men
As celebratory and ceremonious,
Growth and advancement celebrates.
The bottomless hole or pit is a child,
Like the devouring of an infant.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Dirge
We drop our dead in the sea,
The bottomless, bottomless sea;
Each bubble a hollow sigh,
As it sinks forever and aye.
We drop our dead in the sea,--
The dead reek not of aught;
We drop our dead in the sea,--
The sea ne'er gives it a thought.
Sink, sink, oh corpse, still sink,
Far down in the bottomless sea,
Where the unknown forms do prowl,
Down, down in the bottomless sea.
'Tis night above, and night all round,
And night will it be with thee;
As thou sinkest, and sinkest for aye,
Deeper down in the bottomless sea.
poem by Herman Melville
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Playing With The Boys
Id say it was the right time
To walk away
When dreaming takes you nowhere
Its time to play
Bodies working overtime
Your money dont matter
The clock keeps ticking
When someones on your mind
Im moving in slow motion
Feels so good
Its a strange anticipation
Knock, knock, knocking on wood
Bodies working overtime
Man against man
And all that ever matters
Is baby whos ahead in the game
Funny but its always the same
Playing, playing with the boys
Playing, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Said it was the wrong thing
For me to do
I said its just a boys game
Girls play too
My heart is working overtime
In this kind of game
People get hurt
Im afraid that someone is me
If you want to find me, Ill be
Playing, playing with the boys
Staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
I dont want to be the moth around your fire
I dont want to be obsessed by my desire
Im ready, Im leaving
Ive seen enough
...with the boys
Ive seen enough
You play too rough
Playing, playing with the boys
Ill be staying, playing with the boys
After chasing sunsets
One of lifes simple joys
Is playing with the boys
Playing with the boys
Playing
Playing
Playing
Playing
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leave the World Something Real
Expectations of excellence
Unveil the gardens of the soul
These flowers given in mystery
Generations spire into a living fire
Hands made of silk angels
Troubadours play on corners
Architecture reveals future visions
These children with eyes of stars
Dross is burned away in sorrow
Pure gold stands in the gallery
Steeples rise in the blowing wind
There in the sky we see a child’s mind
Grow you seeds that become great trees
Find your part - seek to grow
Rise like clouds in the blue
Blossom into the inward realm
Seek your call and listen to your dreams
What is love?
Growth is love
Using what you have been given is love
Everything you become that is real and true
Is real and true love
Being in love should be for all, man is a family
Even your personal life relates to the whole
The celebration that two are growing together
Fly into the world of growth
Become yourself with the color of growth
Michelangelo left us something
Emily Dickinson left us something
Rembrandt left us something
Mary Beecher Stowe left us something
John Lennon left us something
Search, learn, know yourself
Become all you’re meant too
Selfishness takes and takes
Love gives and gives
When a rose blooms isn't it wonderful?
Grow and grow and never stop
Leave the World Something real
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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The Bottomless Lake
Heres the story of a man and his family
And a big trip that they took
Well, I heard all about in a restaurant
And I read it in a history book
They rented a car at the erie canal
But the car didnt have no brake
Said ma to pa my God this car
Is gonna fall into the bottomless lake
Well, mama turned to daddy with a pale face
Said Ive done something horribly wrong
Well, the waters still runnin in the bathtub
And I think I left the kitchen light on
Then I heard a crash the car when splash
And the compass rolled around and around
Oh, for heavens sake! we fell in a lake
And I think were all gonna drown
Chorus:
We are falling down
Down to the bottom of a hole in the ground
Smoke em if you got em
Im so scared I can hardly breathe
I may never see my sweatheart again
Play once after first verse
There was plenty of food in the backseat
And the windows were rolled up tight
So we all nibbled on a chicken leg
Told stories way thru the night
Well, pa told one that he told before
And the baby got a bellyache
Said ma to pa my God this car
Falling down a bottomless lake
Repeat chorus:
Poppa played the music on the radio
Mama rocked the baby to sleep
He said he wouldve taken the other road
But he didnt think the lake was that deep
Well, if the ferry been there at the end of the pier
Wed be half way to uncle jakes
Instead of looking at fish out the window I wish
Wed hit the bottom of the bottomless lake
stead of looking at fish out the window I wish
Wed hit the bottom of the bottomless lake
So if youre ever goin on a big trip
Ya better be careful out there
Start everything on you good foot
And wear clean underwear
Take along a Bible in the backseat
Read of david and solomon
For if you make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
If you should make a mistake in the bottomless lake
You may never see your sweetheart again
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The writer catches the changes of his mind on the hop. Growth is exciting; growth is dynamic and alarming. Growth of the soul, growth of the mind.
quote by Vita Sackville-West
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Free Yourself and Let It Go
Deflated ego?
You think I say the things I do to you,
To deflate your ego?
I am hoping my assistance,
Helps you get rid of it.
And seeing no benefit in being limited.
And that's what your ego has done!
Made you believe you are number one.
And everything you do is correct.
Without a self examination...
Needed to allow you to live your best yet.
Deflated ego?
I may say some things to you that upsets.
I may even criticize something you do,
You accept as your best.
I might even attempt to strip,
That façade you charade.
Since it's your ego that has you 'tripped'...
When you see it for what it is,
You will realize your greatness has nothing to do with it.
In fact it is keeping you,
Inflated with bs and other nonsense.
Deflate your ego?
You think I do that,
From a threat I feel.
To diminish you in some way...
So I would have a greater appeal?
And deflating your ego would give me thrills?
You need to free yourself and let it go.
If you believe that keeping it,
Inspires a greater you with heights to reach!
Free yourself and let it go.
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Free yourself and let it go.
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Free yourself and let it go.
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
That ego you've got stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
Stunts your growth!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Children's Special...
Every child is born with a gift,
and there is a day to celebrate it.
A child is your treasure given by God,
Be blessed so, and pray to the Lord,
for that child gives you happiness,
Gone are your day's of loneliness.
Childhood does not last,
Every child remembers the past,
It depends on how you groom,
Give the child more than a room.
A child carries an ocean of innocence,
not knowing it's consequence,
does a deed that is not desired,
Many parents have always admired.
Thinking of a day for children,
is a wonderful thought,
Cherish every moment of what they have brought,
to you with their playful minds,
which do leave a trail of joy in your mind.
Remember your own childhood days,
make it more than special today,
make the children feel how good you felt that day,
when you celebrated the children's day,
in your childhood days.
poem by Deepak Calyampoondi
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Greed is a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction.
quote by Erich Fromm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Croquet by Moonlight
On a moonlight evening, in the month of May,
A number of young people were playing at croquet,
They mingled together, the bashful with the gay,
And had a pleasant time and chat, while playing at croquet.
CHORUS:
This play they call croquet, croquet,
This play they call croquet,
It is amusement for the young,
This play they call croquet.
On that pleasant evening, the moon shone clear and bright,
And every heart among that crowd was filed with great delight.
It was a merry party, for lady Dell was there
Her merry laugh above the rest was heard by all, so fair.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She was the belle that evening, admired by great and small,
And all the boys liked to play with the girl and blue ball.
She was a splendid player, so lively and so gay,
For she was skilled in playing that pleasant game croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Two young men among them, that loved this pretty Dell;
Although I write about them, their names I will not tell.
They were fine young fellows, so bashful, and yet so gay;
They tried to beat the girl that with the blue ball play.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Ah! with those handsome fellows, Dell thought she'd have some fun,
"The one of you that'll catch me, may see me safely home."
The play began in earnest, between those fine young men,
To catch the girl with the blue ball, was impossible for them.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She went around the play-ground, so full of life and gay,
She left them at the farther arch, so she beat them at croquet.
It was late that evening, and as I went away,
I know not how they came out, in that pleasant game, croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
So croquet by moonlight is pleasant, as you see,
For business cares were laid aside, in that little company.
So playing at croquet, croquet, so playing at croquet,
It is amusement for the young folks, this play of croquet.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Best Of The Best
Belfast born with magic feet,
Playing ball on cobbled street.
Something with him dwelt,
Something special he felt.
Spotted playing about,
By a Man'U scout.
Telegram was sent,
'I think I've found a genius', it went.
Fifteen years of age,
On the threshold of the national stage.
On his seventeenth birthday,
For the first team, he was to play.
Rave after rave review,
Of his debut.
Slight of frame,
Didn't hinder his game.
Flashes of his lightening speed,
Yes with the ball, at times greed.
The crowds he would enthral,
Extraordinary feats with the ball.
For years he excited terraces,
Putting smiles on faces.
He left a lasting legacy,
'Best player in the World', said no other than‘Pele'.
01/09/92 GUY LIPMORE.
poem by Guy Lipmore
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It Depends On The Situation
In the playing of games,
There are those who are less experienced...
Decide without advice taken,
To play them indiscriminately.
Without thought of who the opponent may be.
Or if the one chosen to be exposed to playing,
Has not in fact...
Elected to do so to prevent total boredom,
To hop and take a ride on one's back...
In the playing of games.
And then,
In the playing of games...
It depends on the situation.
The environment is important as well.
However...
If the playing of the same games,
Gets too familiar...
It becomes very difficult to play them,
With the same exuberance...
As those enjoying to play them repetitiously,
Throughout their lives!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Guiding Mode
I have this theory about raising children.
To play with them is fine.
As long as time is given,
In the providing to them meetings with discipline.
However...
To play with them AND wanting to be their friend,
When in the guiding mode,
Is not advisable.
I know of no child respectable,
Who only knows fun and games.
And those boys and girls only exposed,
To playing with someone everyday...
Grow up to be adults,
Or something that appears as such...
Without wisdom shown on display.
And...
It hasn't been for them made a necessity.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Don't feel shy
you will cry
feelvery shy
wants to fly
but make only try
you will drop
game will be flop
you will stop
youwill not be top
teacher will scold
though you are bold
the story may be told
next year you will have gold
say to all
give nice call
play with ball
you will grow tall
you are a boy
playing with toy
game you enjoy
celebrate it with joy
learn good art
in study be smart
go part by part
have very good start
gain good access
you will have success
enjoy in recess
hurdles you face
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The standard growth theory tells us that economic growth in per capita basis comes from mainly two sources: capital deepening and total factor productivity growth, or TFP growth.
quote by Toshihiko Fukui
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golf-Slow Torture by Handicap
Golf is such a silly game
The less you play it-The greater the fame
But not alas for your average punter
Who stalks the long grass, more like a hunter.
He really isn't playing at all
Half the time he's looking for his ball.
Head always moving(if not hanging in shame)
The ball stays still, so the players to blame.
As more and more strokes we amass
Mainly playing from the longest grass
Temper flaming and words quite blue!
Are you sure this is the game for you?
The just one shot, that you do not thin
And look! Your nearest the pin
Bringing the fame that you seek
Ensuring your return, and the dream
That you will do better - next week!!!
poem by Keith Oldrey
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Kick Off Ball
Kick off ball,
Kick the ball to win the game!
But, with fair play.
Player,
Lyricist,
Arranger,
Keeper,
Composer,
Winner! !
But it was only yesterday that i found you;
And like the game ball in the land of your muse.
Face to face,
Again and again!
But pay and take it;
And, play the match to win the game! !
Play the ball,
Kick the ball,
And like the African Cup of Nations!
Race, ace, face, brace, mace, place, lace;
But words are things upon a thought,
And like something long lost! !
However, play the ball into the net to win the game.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Game of Golf
Golf is my brothers passion, my sister-in laws as well
From where l'm standing Oh! my word it looks like a game from hell
Legs astride back is bent and the arms down all stretched out
Now it's time to hit the ball and give it one good clout
Then they do the walking and try to find the ball
If it's in the right spot then their walking tall
Will they reach the 18th hole without getting in the rough
Will it pour with rain until, they say we've had enough
Will one beat the other, will it end in tears
But then l guess if it gets that bad, they'll down a good few beers
Is it really worth though bending, stretching, hitting
No l'm sorry not for me, l'd rather just be sitting
I guess they'll go on playing, well the fresh air does them good
l'm not so sure about the rest of it, l do not think l could
Walk around in the rain, hitting putting sighing
Little white balls in the air, god, they go a flying
Through the air down the green and in a tiny hole
Only to take it out again, is this really reaching a goal
You'll find them every weekend playing on the green
Wearing funny clothes and shoes, like you never seen
They'll push on round the golf course, until they reach the end
In and out of all them holes, they're clearly round the bend.
poem by Dianne Anderson
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Lost In Childhood
Man doesn’t stop acting like child
Basically an animal but at heart very mild
Get all the excitations when see a small kid
Start feelings of an infant and try to lead
It is nice and worries free stage
All kind of thoughts pour in any age
Remain ever green and get boost at family gathering
Happiness and joy among members for sharing
So there lives small child at your heart
This one has been deliberately put by Him as part
As an age grows, person tends to become small boy
All sorts of naughtiness when look at children playing with toys
You never get matured with any kind of advancement
One may have lot more to remember and resent
Yet that stage is considered as divinely as heaven
Any one may want to be lost in dreams and driven
At slight pain we act like child and cry
We search for lonely place with emotional try
Shed tears and wipe out the eyes for the fear of being watched
Come out of it fast and very next moment another drama is launched
Youth may be spent in merry making
Joy all around and for claims staking
Search for companion and running after bride
Endless adventure with free gossips and nothing to hide
Then comes stage of most dreaded dream
Sometimes living alone with the break up in team
Children go away and leave behind pan and memory
What else to feel except loneliness and sorry!
What a joy to become horse and carry the children?
Kicks in belly and tapping on head all of sudden
Yes this one is only place when you get lost in childhood
So far life was just spent and not properly understood
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Evil Against The Good
The game unquestionably harsh
Started the day we were born
Out of me God created the best
Out of me evil wants
To recreate the worst
An infant between life and death
Not yet time to escape by losing breath
The game just began for the young one
The game unquestionably harsh
Dark streets and rough childhood
Experience of an adverse neighborhood
Got him trapped under the belly of the beast
Evil encounters sinking in the young head
Thoughts of the good lad decaying
The game heading for the climax
The game unquestionably harsh
Thought I would be good forever
Evil troops changed me for a sinner
Got addicted to the harmful world
Young days of ours full of madness
Got my own demons and so fearless
The game has ambushed us under stress
The game unquestionably harsh
Work of the young man is to daydream
Run the best imaginary world as possible
Managing mind tries the impossible
Fantasy world will never be reality
Perhaps the dream just a prophesy
The game plays tricks in the young mind
The game unquestionably harsh
It is play on the day we are born
Even before us it was playing
As we see more days we get played
Evil rules the planet earth
Good rules the purest heaven
The game is on until the end of times.
***The Book of End of Times
poem by Young Church
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Children Playing
Children playing in the street
Dirty face and dirty feet
Skipping ropes and singing songs
This will last all summer long
Fresh air as there playing out
Keeps them fit as they run about
Games they play I know so well
As my journey back to my childhood dreams
Remembering the days no money about
All us kids just played out
Ancient games our parents would play
I still remember to this day
Skipping ropes tug of war
And playing tag I adored
Playing out from dawn to dusk
Happy were we school was done
Dinner time what did we care
With so many friends out there
Mum calls us in its getting late
And homely food on a plate
Slept like a log without a doubt
My energy all burnt out
Just what will tomorrow bring
Our gang is talking about building a swing
These pleasant days I remember well
Because many times in my childhood dwell
To see a smile on a Childs face
The world is a happier place
07 09 2010
Chellaston
poem by Jim O'Donnell
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