Offering Me
Before the war the major had been a scholar,
Systems were malfunctioning due to his guess,
And so he jingled with pride at the open air,
Instilling pride in those eyes that were two.
To blur the words I have been small,
As the sight has arrived due to the blurring word.
He, the scholar, was facing my pages of ruler ship,
The cancellations and doubts blurred the page.
An electronic system was abroad and welcoming,
Off as an action, offering me with praise.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
The great scholar forgets about fame, the average scholar works for it, and the unworthy scholar steals it.
Matters Of Observation
it is me lying on a bench
reading a book halfway through
the pages
for a break i close the book
earmark a page
and look at the jack fruit treetop
just beside the house
i am on the second floor
and no one is in the house
my wife is visiting a friend
who just arrived from the U.S.
there is no other creature except
a white butterfly hovering
on a sampaguita flower
in the small garden
the tree has more leaves
but it is not bearing any fruit
at all
i am reminded of those years
joys forgotten and now i am reading
a book about some shadows
of doubts
there is this systems that works
of patronage
refunds
i am situated in a plateau
and my Jesuit professor who dropped by
last night with a
'how are you? ' through the YM
must have understood that an
introvert like me has no
place outside
the books
i understand and frankly
i do not have to tell him how i feel about it
inside the pages
the stories are too many
my hero is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The humblest painter is a true scholar; and the best of scholars the scholar of nature.
quote by William Hazlitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar.
Confucius in The Confucian Analects
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar.
A scholar who cherishes the love of comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar.
A scholar who cherishes the love of comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar.
The Letter
EDWARD ROWLAND SILL, DIED FEBRUARY 27, 1887
I held his letter in my hand,
And even while I read
The lightning flashed across the land
The word that he was dead.
How strange it seemed! His living voice
Was speaking from the page
Those courteous phrases, tersely choice,
Light-hearted, witty, sage.
I wondered what it was that died!
The man himself was here,
His modesty, his scholar's pride,
His soul serene and clear.
These neither death nor time shall dim,
Still this sad thing must be--
Henceforth I may not speak to him,
Though he can speak to me!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Small Talk & Pride
(john farrar)
We never really had the chance to let each other know
We never really had the time to let our feelings show
Small talk kept us going
When the only words to say
Were how I long to hold you
Pride locked the words away
I never had the confidence to think that you could care
I never looked into your eyes to see if love was there
I talked it over with myself and silently agreed
Your heart was in a high place unreachable to me
I waited too long for a sign from you
Reached for a line that you never threw
Small talk and pride kept us from getting together
Now theres never a day youre not on my mind
Saying the words we could never find
Small talk and pride took you from my life forever
Ill never hold the cards again
To win a love so real
I know Id gamble everything
But mistress fate wont deal
I just have to be content to learn by my mistakes
Our hearts were just a breath away
Now theyre far enough to break
I waited too long for a sign from you
Reached for a line that you never threw
Small talk and pride kept us from getting together
Now theres never a day youre not on my mind
Saying the words we could never find
Small talk and pride took you from my life forever
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We The Electronic
See us on the underground
Packed up in our sardine cans
Tailor made with suits and shades
Lipstick teeth and waxwork hands
Electronic, we're electronic
Jumping on conveyor belts
Escalators in our heads
Programmed for another day
Talking to a faceless friend
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Hear the ticking in our beds
Find the balance in our heads
Wishing we could make a change
See the morning coming in
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Letters
More letters found stuffed
Beneath his brown best shoes,
Which had yellowed with age.
Love letters with small crosses
For kisses at the bottom
Of the page. Words neatly penned,
Love spoken of, gifts thanked for,
Places seen, shared and remembered.
He was a dark horse, Mother said,
Never knew he had these, so many here,
Stuffed, forgotten or out of sight and mind.
Granddad had had some woman
On the go at some time and place
Years ago, before Gran, before
The whole circus of living had ended.
A photograph tucked between pages,
Some woman in old-fashioned hat
And dress and wide-open eyes.
Secrets hidden and kept, words
Upon words on pages, scribbled
By a hand now sure to be dead.
Best burn them, Mother sighed,
Nothing to be gained, best nothing’s said.
poem by Terry Collett
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Hysteria Of A Sick Soul From A Friend's Diary
it happened so fast
it was just a blur
i tried to clear
my head of the
whisky fuzz
it was just a
blur,
a film over,
just a glaze over a glassy surface
hope loses clear vision.
Her eyes glazed over
perhaps from lack of sleep
The haze blurs the hills
confuse, obnubilate,
obscure barbaric incantations
yes, unclear, indistinct,
blurred decisions
Remarks confused
the debate
over words
obnubilate
their intentions
blur,
smear,
smudge,
smutch
earth smudges
blear, blur
dim indistinct
The fog blurs my vision
dim, slur
you're one vague indistinct
shadow in the
night
garden
The distinctions between
two theories about ourselves
blurred at the end
goodbye says goodbye to goodbye
just that just that
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Small Talk And Pride
We never really had the chance to let each other know
We never really had the time to let our feelings show
Small talk kept us goin', when the only words to say
Were "how I long to hold you", pride locked the words away
I never had the confidence to think that you could care
I never looked into your eyes to see if love was there
I talked it over with myself and silently agreed
Your heart was in a high place, unreachable to me
Chorus:
I waited too long for a sign from you, reached for a line that you never threw
Small talk and pride kept us from gettin' together
Now there's never a day you're not on my mind
Sayin' the words we could never find
Small talk and pride took you from my life forever
I'll never hold the cards again, to win I love so real
I know I'd gamble everything, but mistress Fate won't deal
I just have to be content to learn by my mistakes
Our hearts were just a breath away, now they're far enough to break
chorus
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vignettes
“AND Smith has made money?'
'O, no; that's a myth:
Smith never made money
But money made Smith!'
_______________
A sculptor is Deming—a great man, too;
But the chisel of fancy the hand outstrips;
While he talks of the wonder he's going to do
All the work of his fingers leaks out at his lips!
______________
'A scholar, sir! To Brown six tongues are known!'
(The Blockhead! never spoke one thought his own!)
_______________
Johnson jingled his silver—though he never had much to purloin;
But Jackson jingled his intellect—O, give us Johnson's coin!
______________
At school a blockhead—sullen, wordless, dull;
His size well known to even his smallest mate;
Grown up, men say: ' How silent! He is full
Of will and wisdom! ' Truly mud is great!
An honest man! Jones never broke the law.
The wretch behind the bars he scorned with pride.
But these same bars on every side he saw:
Jones lived in prison—on the other side.
_______________
A hideous fungus in the wine-vault grows,
Liver-like, loathsome, shaking on its stalk:
Above the wine-vault, too (to him who knows),
The cursed mushroom lives and walks and talks.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 43
A scholar is not meekly to overlook the folly of a common person because thus both parties are injured; the dignity of the former being lessened, and the ignorance of the latter confirmed.
Speak gracefully and kindly to a low fellow,
His pride and obstinacy will augment.
I Was There
In this world when you first arrived
I was there at your mothers side,
Holding her hand, I was filled with pride,
I was there when you first arrived.
It was I alone who rubbed your hair
It was I who counted your fingers and toes,
And I was I who proudly held you first
And it was I alone who rubbed your nose.
When you first arrived in this world
It was I, who was thinking is it a boy or a girl
But then to myself, I really didn't care,
As long as you arrived, to answer my prayer.
I was there with you every step of the way
I watched your birth, and your coming of age
And what I say now, I say with both a vigor and pride,
That I was there, when you first arrived.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Voids
A pilot without a sky
A sky without a pilot
A captain without a ship
A ship without a pivot
A book void of pages
A page without a book
A letter without a word
The word forgotten unheard
By silent actors and stages
An eye without a sight
Eyeholes bottomless pits
A hand without a shake
A weakness earning on might
A wound you cannot unbreak
21st century beats
21st century eats
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Iron sharpens iron; scholar, the scholar.
quote by William Drummond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would like to be a scholar in whatever I do, a scholar is never finished, he is always seeking and I am always seeking.
quote by Ahmad Jamal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Without them
Good ruler
Scholar
River
Doctor
Soldier
Are my life partner
And without them
My life will not prosper.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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