What Kind Of A Person
"What kind of a person are you," I heard them say to me.
I'm a person with a complex plumbing of the soul,
Sophisticated instruments of feeling and a system
Of controlled memory at the end of the twentieth century,
But with an old body from ancient times
And with a God even older than my body.
I'm a person for the surface of the earth.
Low places, caves and wells
Frighten me. Mountain peaks
And tall buildings scare me.
I'm not like an inserted fork,
Not a cutting knife, not a stuck spoon.
I'm not flat and sly
Like a spatula creeping up from below.
At most I am a heavy and clumsy pestle
Mashing good and bad together
For a little taste
And a little fragrance.
Arrows do not direct me. I conduct
My business carefully and quietly
Like a long will that began to be written
The moment I was born.
s Now I stand at the side of the street
Weary, leaning on a parking meter.
I can stand here for nothing, free.
I'm not a car, I'm a person,
A man-god, a god-man
Whose days are numbered. Hallelujah.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
poem by Yehuda Amichai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Can One Person Do
(n. rodgers/g. smith)
What can one person do
More than a little bit
More than a little bit
Can I fight the battle
All by myself
Can I make a miracle happen
As long as I can think
And got my health
Ill never stop
Im too strong for that
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
Everyones gotta move
What they can move
The faithful can sometimes move mountains
When your faith is right
You will never lose your heart, your hope
Or your good friends
Dont be overcome by frustrations
Live up to your highest expectations
Im tellin you just for your information
Just for, just for your information
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
Looked into my soul and suspected
That Im gonna take, gonna take on the unexpected
Walked into the fire unprotected
Walk into the fire
What can one person do
What can one person be
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world higher than the place of GODS
A person who is proud of ‘himself'
Does not own his body and physique for ever!
A person who thinks the wealth is ‘MINE',
The wealth will not come with him
While he breaths his last breath!
"A person who cuts the pride of ‘I' and ‘MINE'
Will enter the world higher than the place of GODS"
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Positive Thinker
Am I a good thinker?
Can I see what others don't?
Am I a daring person?
Can I do what others do not like to do?
Or others are afraid to do?
Am I a creative and imaginative person?
Can I see the invisible?
Can I feel the intangible?
Can I achieve the impossible?
Am I a contemplating person?
Am I a self-reflective person?
Am I a confidence person?
Am I a self-reliance person?
Can I be a perfect person?
Can I be a clever person?
Can I be a smart thinker person?
Above all,
I prefer to be
A simple person
With a positive attitude,
Not only accept positive things,
But willing to accept negative things.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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The Runcorn Ferry
On the banks of the Mersey, o'er on Cheshire side,
Lies Runcorn that's best known to fame
By Transporter Bridge as takes folks over t'stream,
Or else brings them back across same.
In days afore Transporter Bridge were put up,
A ferryboat lay in the slip,
And old Ted the boatman would row folks across
At per tuppence per person per trip.
Now Runcorn lay over on one side of stream,
And Widnes on t'other side stood,
And, as nobody wanted to go either place,
Well, the trade wasn't any too good.
One evening, to Ted's superlative surprise,
Three customers came into view:
A Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom it were,
And Albert, their little son, too.
"How much for the three?" Mr Ramsbottom asked,
As his hand to his pocket did dip.
Ted said: "Same for three as it would be for one,
Per tuppence per person per trip."
"You're not charging tuppence for that little lad?"
Said Mother, her eyes flashing wild.
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"Per woman, per man, or per child".
"Fivepence for three, that's the most that I'll pay",
Said Father, "Don't waste time in talk".
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"And them, as can't pay, 'as to walk!"
"We can walk, an' all", said Father. "Come Mother,
It's none so deep, weather's quite mild".
So into the water the three of them stepped:
The father, the mother, the child.
The further they paddled, the deeper it got,
But they wouldn't give in, once begun.
In the spirit that's made Lancashire what she is,
They'd sooner be drownded than done.
Very soon, the old people were up to their necks,
And the little lad clean out of sight.
Said Father: "Where's Albert?" And Mother replied:
"I've got hold of his hand, he's all right!"
Well, just at that moment, Pa got an idea
And, floundering back to old Ted, He said:
"We've walked half-way. Come, tak' us the rest
For half-price -- that's a penny a head."
But Ted wasn't standing for none of that there,
And, making an obstinate lip,
"Per tuppence per person per trip", Ted replied,
"Per trip, or per part of per trip".
"All right, then", said Father, "let me tak' the boat,
And I'll pick up the others half-way.
I'll row them across, and I'll bring the boat back,
And thruppence in t'bargain I'll pay".
T'were money for nothing. Ted answered: "Right-ho",
And Father got hold of the sculls.
With the sharp end of boat towards middle of stream,
He were there in a couple of pulls.
He got Mother out -- it were rather a job,
With the water, she weighed half a ton --
Then, pushing the oar down the side of the boat,
Started fishing around for his son.
When poor little Albert came up to the top,
His collars were soggy and limp.
And, with holding his breath at the bottom so long,
His face were as red as a shrimp.
Pa took them across, and he brought the boat back,
And he said to old Ted on the slip:
"Wilt' row me across by me'sen?" Ted said:
"Aye, at per tuppence per person per trip".
When they got t'other side, Father laughed fit to bust.
He'd got best of bargain, you see.
He'd worked it all out, and he'd got his own way,
And he'd paid nobbut fivepence for three!
poem by Marriott Edgar
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The Same As I
i get so tired
of writing poems
about suffering....
but everywhere i look,
all around me,
people are hurting....
and try as i might,
i cant close my eyes,
cant shut my ears up
to the sounds of need and want.
and i cannot be silent
as long as there's one person
who is not free,
one person whose rights
have been violated....
one person who is hungry,
one person who is homeless,
one person sick who cannot
get medical care....
one person abused, enslaved,
or treated like property...
i cannot, and i will not stop,
for they are the same
as i... i see their faces
every time i look in the mirror!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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When A Person Does Not Know What To Do With Himself
WHEN A PERSON DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH HIMSELF
When a person does not know what to do with himself
When a person feels empty
When a person feels everything he had done and everything he can do do is meaningless
When a person is bored
When a person does not know what to do with himself
And wonders why he is on this earth
And how he will endure more of it
When a person does not know what to do with himself
He must do any little thing he can do
To get himself going-
He must wash the dishes or clean the house or take something to eat or take a small walk or read a page
Or do any one of a million or more other small things to get himself going
And once he is going he must somehow go on and on and from this to something else
So that at some point somewhere along the way somehow
He is doing something
Perhaps not that great
But doing something
And in doing something
Perhaps forgetting about himself
A bit
Perhaps.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Hallelujah for a women's love
Once when I cried for freedom
For freedoms ancient sleep
I lay on my bed in my kingdom
Feeling sad so sad and bleak.
Once when I laughed the world laughed too
And so my one true love did you;
Once when my heart was a ball and chain,
Love—saved my soul from the pain.
Once when the sun was cold,
And the moon was warm.
"I listened to those thoughts..? "
Echoing in my soul!
And sang: Hallelujah...
Hey, hey, hallelujah...
Hey, hey, hallelujah...
Once when all hope seemed a pitiless dream
I sat by your side and prayed.
And like Job I vented my anger at the earth
For giving me eyes life staid.
{In this shadows burning, shade! }
But you touched my soul
With your angel-wingtips
And alter bread your body,
Across my swollen lips!
As the suns and moons were shed,
Oh then I knew for sure, I wasn't dead.
As angels wailed, and fled...
I gave thanks to a women's bed.
Hallelujah...
Hey, hey, hallelujah...
Hey, hey, hallelujah...
For a women's love is a shapely thing!
That'll make you sing...
Hallelujah...
Hey, hey, hallelujah...
poem by Mark Heathcote
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A Person's Worth Is Invaluable
A person's worth,
Isn't in their ability...
To obtain worldly possessions.
Or in the quality of them.
Can that person nourish others,
With encouragement?
Can that person be a true friend...
When the time for being one,
Shows what kind of skin...
That person 'is'
And exposes from within.
Being able to spend cash,
And make a quick dash on trips...
Or do a name dropping of notables,
Doesn't mean a thing...
If a person is negligent,
To extend heartfelt feelings...
Not too many can express or mention.
A person's worth is invaluable,
When a genuineness appears...
To surface time and again.
And that is proven to be dependable,
Without a doubt or a need to question.
Can that person nourish others,
With encouragement that does not end?
A person's worth will unearth,
Who and what comes first...
Regardless of those impressions made,
Someday that will fade...
Long after established ties with others,
Have remained to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What is—
215
What is—"Paradise"—
Who live there—
Are they "Farmers"—
Do they "hoe"—
Do they know that this is "Amherst"—
And that I—am coming—too—
Do they wear "new shoes"—in "Eden"—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won't they scold us—when we're homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—
You are sure there's such a person
As "a Father"—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls "die"—
I shan't walk the "Jasper"—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won't laugh at me—
Maybe—"Eden" a'n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Uniforms
(3/9/12)
So many uniforms worn in this life, and inside them
You'll find your loved ones -your soul mate
Son, daughter, husband, or wife.
Firemen, policemen, nurses, and military too
They all have a job to do.
And as you look at them with pride
You thank god they're by your side.
The uniform does not make the person
But the person makes the uniform.
Because in it they pour the heart and soul
And it's there where they belong.
The firemen and women who run into a burning house
The cop who goes into the line of fire
The nurse who held their hand on you to stop the bleeding
And of course the military soldier
Who protects our country day and night
And will give up their lives in a fight.
Yet we do not stop and say:
"Thank you for all that you do
I am very proud to know you."
Their uniforms are just their shells
And at times they go thru hell.
But there is a person who never wore a uniform
But created all of them who wear it.
He is all these people rolled into one
He is "GODS SON".
He made these uniforms so that we can see their worth
And it was given to them from their birth.
So many uniforms to show what we do
But it doesn't show the inner you.
This uniform is seen only by god
It is called the human heart.
This uniform can not be replaced
by anything on this earth
For it was given by god at our birth.
We can be as beautiful or as vicious
As any animal on this earth, or as
Soft and sensitive as the most delicate flower
This is given to us from the lords powers.
Let us rejoice in what he has given
And make this life " worth living".
© L.Rams
poem by Louis Rams
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A Song of a Young Lady to Her Ancient Lover
Ancient Person, for whom I
All the flattering youth defy,
Long be it e'er thou grow old,
Aching, shaking, crazy cold;
But still continue as thou art,
Ancient Person of my heart.
On thy withered lips and dry,
Which like barren furrows lie,
Brooding kisses I will pour,
Shall thy youthful heart restore,
Such kind show'rs in autumn fall,
And a second spring recall;
Nor from thee will ever part,
Ancient Person of my heart.
Thy nobler parts, which but to name
In our sex would be counted shame,
By ages frozen grasp possest,
From their ice shall be released,
And, soothed by my reviving hand,
In former warmth and vigour stand.
All a lover's wish can reach,
For thy joy my love shall teach;
And for thy pleasure shall improve
All that art can add to love.
Yet still I love thee without art,
Ancient Person of my heart.
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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A Reflection
At one time I was blind
Blinded by the person in the mirror
The person in the mirror
Was someone I didn't like
A person that was full of anger
Anger which know one could stop
A person who was dishonest
A person who lied to themselves
A person who lied, cheated and stole
This person scared me
Yet the reflection I seen
Was me
How could this be me?
I didn't like this person I was looking at
That person couldn't of been me
Yet it was time to face the facts
This was me
This is who I'am
Now I know I had to change
If I didn't like this person
Then who would like this person?
poem by Ashley Olson
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My mark
I don't want you to cry on last day
I don't want you to cry tears of sadness
I want you to cry tears of joy
Cry cause because you remember the good things I use to do here on earth
I want you to remember my smile
My jokes
My T L C
I want you to remember me as a fighter
I want you to remember me as the most sweetest person
I want you to remember me as someone who always made you feel good
I want you remember me as the friendliest person
I want you to remember me as the person who use to light up the room
I want you to remember me
As a nice smelling perfume
I want you to remember me
As a hereon
I want you to remember me
As the most craziest person
Not in bad way but in good way
That is why I worked so hard
To became a good person
In order for you to have lots of good memories about me n less bad memories
I want to be remembered as person who left a really good mark
Vangile Mtyali
Written on the 28/02/2008
poem by Vangile Mtyali
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Only person
I am the only person
Responsible here.
Only person wellknown in the market
Only person to love
Only person to show life with open eyes.
The life is an empty vessel
The life you like and
If you like you can puton
Anything you like
If you like you can putoff
All your programme
And held me responsible
For all lapses committed by you.
I am the person
The only person
Who is yours
Only yours
Only person
The only person.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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By name
I am called Hasmukh* by name
Exactly to be understood as smiling man and to claim
I feel no shy in explaining self to all
As many friends ask and make frequent calls
Why you are not named crying person?
Some friends jokingly asked for reasons
"No, parents decided it" I used to answer
They were my custodian and after all mentor
There is tradition to name a child with meaningful name
Some times they may be so funny and exactly opposite to claim
Child may be named as chand*(moon) but to be as dark as black
Some people may call him as dark night and cut a simple joke
Some parents may be really poor but keep name as Sukhi*(happy)
In fact they may have no meals to eat and living in misery
Yet it is strange to name every child with good bearing
It is done with all fun fare and without cause of worrying
There is nothing special in name but still stands good
Each person is known by name, position and surely understood
So this tradition, by and large, adds to person's glory
"See person has proved to his name" people may exclaim and attach story
What is left behind when you depart?
Name, statue, palaces or golden cart
Nothing will accompany you at the end
Some memory to be remembered by family and friends
• hasmukh … name…
• Chand ….. Moon
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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I have a feeling that being in love sometimes means the projection of your desires onto another person. The important thing is that you like the other person, respect the other person and want to raise children with the other person.
quote by Eric Braeden
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Nothing I Could Say
I remember the first time,
I confronted someone...
Reacting to a rumor.
And from a third person heard.
I shouted obscenities,
In the face of this person.
Only to discover...
The rumor I heard,
Had been about another.
Years has passed.
And I have seen again,
That person I offended.
And with friends that person said to me...
'Are you still that fool I remembered?
And are you still as ignorant,
As you impressed me first to be? '
There was nothing I could say.
I had learned to keep my mouth shut.
And from those wishing to start confrontations...
I don't acknowledge this.
I simply walk away.
Growing older to wisen up,
Has its benefits.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What I Appreciate
I appreciate
A person who acknowledge
His or her mistakes
I appreciate a person
Who apologizes
And doesn't hesitate
I appreciate
A person who makes
You believe
What they say because
They mean it truly
I appreciate
A person who keeps their word
After all it's what I deserve
I appreciate
A person who's apology
I can accept
Because it will be sincere
And I can forgive and forget it
I appreciate
Having someone I admire
It is my desire
I appreciate a person
Like this I would
Be truly flattered
For it's important
And to me it matters
So I know you are wondering
Can I do the same thing.....
Absolutely
poem by Tameeka Smith
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Rare Thoughts that Never Go away
Has anyone out there reading this
Ever thought about that one person that is always in your thoughts and they never go away?
Well many of us out there are too scared of what or whom we miss
And then there are some of us that can't stop thinking of them throughout the day
Well I am this kind of person that just met a person not long ago
And I am here to say that my thoughts are of this person that I really admire
There are so many people that say how you can feel that way about someone who you barely know
I simply tell them that I trust in the Lord's every desire
Even though finding that one kind of person in everyone's life is rare
Who is always willing to listen and be gentle and kind
I hope that everyone can find this type of person that seems to always be there
Because I want her to know this is why she is always on my mind
And this is why these thoughts never go away
Because of the friendship that has come from the Heaven Above
This is why I am glad, for these thoughts are here to stay
And hopefully those thoughts and feelings will turn from friendship to passionate love
By Frank Pulver
poem by Frank Pulver
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The First Rain
The first rain reminds me
Of the rising summer dust.
The rain doesn't remember the rain of yesteryear.
A year is a trained beast with no memories.
Soon you will again wear your harnesses,
Beautiful and embroidered, to hold
Sheer stockings: you
Mare and harnesser in one body.
The white panic of soft flesh
In the panic of a sudden vision
Of ancient saints.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
poem by Yehuda Amichai
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