Road
Bye cycle
Walking...
Moter cycle
Running...
Car
Swimming...
Trees and
Bulding only
Standing...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Related quotes
Bye on road
By cycle
Walking on
The road...
With two legs
Run...
Tow
Hands
Catch....
By walking
By cycle...
With bye...on road...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The Never-ending Cycle
Time is a never-ending cycle
in this life of ours.
It moves with quick rapidity
in our pleasurable hours.
It drags along in slowed down seconds
and takes away our powers.
It amuses and it bruises
and repeats its same old scene.
We quicken with laughter and ache with tears
and wonder 'What does this mean? '
The question is ingrained in us
in a cycle that's never ending.
The only answer I can find
is the cycle is mind-bending.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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We forget that the water cycle and the life cycle are one.
quote by Jacques Yves Cousteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Slant
the slant
a building settling around me
my figure female framed crookedly
in the threshold
of the room
door scraping floorboards
with every opening
carving a rough history
of bedroom scenes
the plot hard to follow
the text obscured
in the fields of sheets
slowly gathering the stains
of seasons spent lying there
red and brown
like leaves fallen
the colors of an eternal cycle
fading with the
wash cycle
and the rinse cycle
again an unfamiliar smell
like my name misspelled
or misspoken
a cycle broken
the sound of them strong
stalking talking about their prey
like the way hammer meets nail
pounding
song performed by by Ani DiFranco from Ani DiFranco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It may part of a one way evolution... or it may be we are currently on the downside of an innocence cycle where one day, with an up cycle, sweet will be entertaining again.
quote by Christopher Knight
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If the first lady is concerned about this Internet cycle, what would she have done during the heyday when there was 12, 13 editions of a paper in one day? What would she have done with that news cycle?
quote by Matt Drudge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonder of work's
Some budy
Told love is
A taj mahal
Is the one of
Beauty ful bulding
For loving
The king of S. khan
Wife mumthaj
Momey of the
Loving bulding;
Is the taj mahal...!
Taj mahal is
Lovely and great
Bulding...
But; that is not
Great vision...
To the white
Tails and marble's...
Its not...
Thousands
Thousands
Labur people
Hands and to
The work's;
Is a taj mahal
To day
Great beautyful
Bulding...
Not for love only...
Wonder of
work's always
Making only...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Be Happy
be happy
nothing is permanent
no one is permanently rich
no one is permanently poor
it is the cycle
that governs the fates of us all
destinies
and change
and rotation of the axis
of this earth
it is the circle
that keeps us alive
so be happy
now you may be sad
and down and
feeling hopeless
just wait
the cycle of life comes
to save you
just wait
the cycle of death too comes
to give you rest
it is the circle
not the flatness
that gives us happiness
be glad
nothing is permanent
the changes come
and you shall
have it
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sunday Cycle Rides
Quite often, on a Sunday morning,
Dad and I would take a cycle ride.
Up the steep hills, we would struggle,
But, down them, we would glide.
We’d cycle to villages like Monxton,
Abbott’s Ann and St Mary Bourne.
We’d pass fields of lowing cattle,
As well as fields of golden corn.
Once, as we were passing some sheep,
I gently applied my brakes and stopped.
I stood watching the cute little lambs,
As they leapt, and jumped, and hopped.
We would cycle along the back roads,
And whiz along winding, country lanes.
I felt happy enough when the sun was out,
But not so much so, when it began to rain.
Along the roads, we’d pass babbling brooks,
And horses with rhythmic clip-clopping hooves.
We’d pass village greens with duck ponds,
And pretty little cottages with thatched roofs.
But our cycle rides abruptly came to an end,
When, one day, my Dad suddenly died.
Nowadays, I don’t even own a bicycle,
But I really miss our Sunday cycle rides.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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At the top of the cycle you write policies for everybody, no matter how bad, and at the bottom you cancel everybody, no matter how good. It's a manic-depressive cycle.
quote by Robert Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From fresh jade to jade
cycle spins cycle onwards
till perceptions fade.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (24 October 2006)
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Life Is A Circle.
It isa circle, from birth
To death ending up in cries,
Of arrival and departure,
The soul may even go round
In cirle frm deat to birth
In another for the cycle
to continue as believed
In the eadt as per
Our deeds entering
The cycle like animnals,
Birds, other beings,
Keeping the soul in tact,
So we must be careful
As per the myth to do
Good deeds only,
To rebirth again as humans,
Though to be battered
By our own emotions,
And suffer through human life cycle.
Ravikiran Arakkal
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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My Car
I love my
Car...
My car...
Is only
Two weels...
No want petrole...
No want Bio- gas...
Two member only
Travel my car...
Every wear...
Every side...
My car move and move...
Run and run...
with my leg speed...
I was play my car...
Each every day...
Another's called my car name
Was cycle...
I was lovengely calling car...
Yes...
Cycle is my car...
What is your car...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The electric fan rotates
The electric fan rotates
The wheels of the cycle rotate
The sun and the moon rotate
The planets rotate
Do all of them symbolise the same thing
Is the wheel of the cycle a dharmachakra
Do these whirlings and wheelings add to the music of the spheres
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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My main efforts focussed on trying to identify the rate controlling steps during the cell cycle. Crucial for this analysis were wee mutants that were advanced prematurely through the cell cycle and so divided at a reduced cell size.
quote by Paul Nurse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A whinny like a horse
Like all men he too started running from a certain end.
Even after passing the winning post he continued on running.
And never stopped to obtain his trophy.
*[ In the cycle of birth & death do you remember the partaker how many times you defeated? ]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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That child, my mentor
That child, my mentor
Morning
On my return from the temple
After chanting prayers for half an hour
I was walking contemplating
On the contents of the prayers
Thoughts suddenly switched over
The chores ahead for the day
The places, offices and people to visit
So that days to come
Will go smoothly
I was ecstatic over my skills, knowledge and what not
And over my negotiating strengths
I allowed me to feel great and confident
That I will able to sail through my life
Independently and without anyone driving it for me
My thoughts got a break
A cycle bell ringing
And the cyclist overtaking me
But riding the cycle very slow and steady
Almost bracing my right shoulder
Just keeping its pace matched with my speed of walk
I saw that baby girl
Probably of three years
Sitting on the back of the cycle
With both her legs safely kept away on side footrests
Her long frock's glittering border fluttering
Apparently enjoying the breeze blowing across
And posing confidence
Leaving everything to her dad, who was riding the cycle
Waving her hands this way that way
And singing a song
Making me realize that she is the happiest
Among the two of us
I was awakening to the fact
That the prayers chanted by me
Just were mentioning this
Leave everything to God
And He will drive your life
He knows where to take you and
He will take you there safely
And that child moving away me
Whose face I did not even see
Is my mentor
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Un-Forgiveness (Break The Cycle)
It's a never ending cycle
That stems from generation to generation
The small child cringes
As he listens to the parents argue
That same child runs in fear
Afraid to get more bruising from his dad
Then you see him crying in shame
As his father yells how useless he is
Then it starts all over again each and everyday
He grows up thinking oh yeah I am a man
My father taught me well
Now I can be a man
He now has children of his own
Whom he beats up every day
He now has children of his is own
Whom he yells and screams at
Just like his dad
He now has a wife
Whom he argues with every single day
She hides from the world
Behind sunglasses of her shame
The cycle is never ending
When can you make it end?
First thing is accepting
The mistakes you made in life
Then it's mending bridges
That will heal the family right
How can a person learn to forgive?
If you cannot let go of past sins
The hardest part of all
Is to stand your meager ground
Let it be known and heard
You no longer bow to the cycle of shame
Let it be known and heard
You broke the cycle of shame for life
poem by Kaila George
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The forces going on in the society are not things the media can prevent or change. But we can and should help understand this crisis and warn against false solutions. If feelings are trumping arguments — the pun is fully intended — it doesn’t mean that arguments don’t still have to be made. It may not win the news cycle. It may not even win this election cycle. But it’s a critical task.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Cycle Days
The childhood days
which were full of craze.
i spent my day,
fighting with my cycle,
i just hate it.
hating them,
still making them best friend,
this makes my childhood days my cycle days.
poem by Aashka Thakkar
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