There was an old man of the Cape
Who made himself garments of crepe.
When asked, "Do they tear?"
He replied, "Here and there,
But they're perfectly splendid for shape!"
quote by by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Rose-bud advises man…
I asked a rose-bud, ‘who gave you your beauty? ’
And it replied, ‘my mother’s sap gave me! ’
I asked again, ‘who gave your mother plant, its sap? ’
It said, ‘the soil and rain by roots, the sun through leaves! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘who gave the soil, sun and rain such abilities? ’
It replied, ‘the One who made all things, and you and me! ’
And now the rose-bud asked me, ‘But why do you ask such questions?
Are you not made beautiful too by the same One,
Who made me, the moon, sky, soil and sun?
And yet, like you, we cannot walk or run! ’
It continued, ‘we plants feel sad we cannot move like how you do! ’
‘We buds grow bigger by each dawn;
The Maker feels so happy when we’re born,
And smiles on seeing us each morn,
Turning ecstatic, when we blossom on,
The landscape to perfume and to adorn –
By morrow, most of us are almost gone! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘are the dew-drops then because you cry? ’
And it replied, ‘they are the tears of joy and sadness of God on high,
Who knows we are born to sooner die.’
But tell me man, such questions, you ask, ‘why? ’
The rose-bud went on:
‘God gave you man, woman, a long life-span;
And do many things, you surely can! ’
God made you far more beautiful!
Be satisfied and be dutiful;
God is our Master One, most wonderful!
Praise Him, thank Him for all His gifts to you, bountiful! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Conversation with God
One day while I was dreaming I heard a soft like voice
It called me to a pond
and asked to recite
the stories of my childhood
I thought it very strange
Then with deafening noise it came
It took me to the pond and asked me 'what I could see'
'I see me' I replied
'Very good' it said
'Now do you see' it asked
'I see a little child with hair as bright as fire'
'Who is that child' it asked
'It is me' I replied again
'Do you remember what that child was like'
'No' I replied
'Until you become a child again you'll see no more'
'I do not understand' I said
'You will' came the voice
'When' I asked
'When you believe that I am real'
'But you are real' I answered
'Only one who truly believes can understand'
poem by Rachel Branscombe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Quality Of God
In torn dress a poor boy,
Was standing near a shop,
Greeding eyes of this boy,
Bare footed, seeking joy in the shop.
The shop was full of rich people,
There was selling garments and shoes,
Toys too, something in the shape of apple,
People were in fine dress and shoes.
Nobody paid heed at this boy,
And his eyes were tearful,
All were busy in buying toys,
But boy was standing thoughtful.
A lady came there who had bright eyes,
Accompanied the boy and entered the shop,
Bought for him garments, shoes and toys,
Buying all they left the shop.
Lady put her hand on his head,
'Go now' said with love,
Boy smiled and turned up his head,
' Are you God? ' asked with love.
She replied with smiling face,
'I'm His slave not God.'
Answered the boy with confidence,
'I knew that you must belong to God.'
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And Pussy cat
Pussy pussy cat pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to London
To look at the queen
Again I asked Pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to Odisha
To look at English
Rule of Nabin.
Pussy cat pussy cat
Further I asked where
Have you been and
Pussy cat replied
He had been to see
Odia people who are fool
And how odia people
Still remain cool
Pussy pussy cat
I asked where have
You been and pussy cat
Replied he had been
To India to see
The democratic rule.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Perpetual Stream Of Sacred Consciousness
I asked the mountain
You are very strong
you will exist till the end of creation
The mountain replied numbly
No, Nay, not so
the water can flow me and
convert me to a plain land
then my existence will vanish
I asked the rock
no one can melt you
the rock also replied numbly
No, Nay not so
the water can melt me
and I will be no more
I asked the trees
the water will destroy you
the tree replied
No, Nay not so
it shall irrigate me and
give me life
I asked each and every creatures
all replied
water is more soft, more rich
and more strong
it can destroy and give life too
it can quench thirst of all
and give life to all
I asked the Water
You are soft and mild
You are rich and strong too
The water replied
No, Nay not so
I may be dried at any time
It is poetry,
a perpetual stream of sacred consciousness
flowing ever and ever
beyond the stars and planets and
even beyond plenty of universe
The Poetry can save me and
pray to God for my survival.
poem by Ramesh Rai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Time-Lined Encapsulations
E ncapsulation of emotions felt,
N uance soft, or sharply coloured cape,
C an seldom be expressed, pressed into shape
A s rhyming couplets strict in sonnet spelt.
P oetic strictures tie too tight a belt
S upply few frameworks for the mind to drape
U nstructured dreams with rainbow sellotape.
L ife’s littleness ist alles in die Welt,
A las mocks Man, - too soon ambitions melt
T o watershed necrologies. Black crepe.
I s all that is recalled. There’s no escape
O ffered here howe’er the cards are dealt.
N ow Fate’s dark finger, having writ, forgets
S entiments as Time sharp sickle whets.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The child tastes the tear
The tear is made of salt
The tear is made of water
The tear is made of the sea
But you cannot swim in it
The tear can leak down the cheek
The tear is like a good rhyme
The child wipes away the tear
The wipe is made of the hand
The hand is made by…who
The child thinks of the hand
The hand can shake a hand
The hand can slap a cheek
The hand can wipe the tear away
The hand and tear are made
The child is thinking
I am made too
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Consultation
‘How are you feeling in general? ’ he asked.
‘Pretty good most of the time then I get these occasional black periods when nothing makes sense and I fear the worst’ I replied.
‘Hmm, any suicidal thoughts? ’ he asked thoughtfully as if embarrassed to ask the question.
I thought for a moment.
‘Well, not really. No, not really’ was all I could say.
He made some notes at this point.
‘And those times of feeling good’ he asked ‘what are they like? ’
‘Like the sun is shining and I feel on top of the world’.
‘But there’s no real reason for that? ’ he asked ‘you just feel good and that’s it? ’
‘Yeah’ I replied.
‘What about your libido? ’ he asked as if enquiring what brand of beer I liked.
‘Funnily that’s pretty good’ I said smiling.
He frowned.
‘Is there any guilt that you feel? ’ he probed.
‘Do you feel guilty when you feel good or see others around you far less well off than you are? ’
‘I guess I do. I feel bad that I can’t feel that good all the time and also sad for those worse than me’.
‘But not real guilt? ’
‘No. Not really’.
‘So you feel bad at times but not guilty? ’
‘Guess not’
‘Do you ever feel bad about not feeling guilty? ’
He knew I was lost at this point and changed tack.
‘When did you last masturbate? ’ he threw in.
‘Can’t remember’ I said startled.
He made some notes.
‘So, you feel guilty about masturbation? ’ he continued.
‘No, not at all’.
‘But you don’t remember when you last did it? ’ he said with a manner of distaste and disbelief.
‘Not really’.
At this point I did not know where all this was going.
‘Do you go to church? ’ he asked.
‘No’
‘Why not? ’
‘Can’t see the point’
‘So why are you here? ’
At this point the confessional ended.
I had been diagnosed as not having enough guilt or grief or angst to be normal and no further help or counselling could be offered.
But, at long last, I felt truly guilty.
So, perhaps, I will find redemption one day.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You and Jackson Pollock.
How's the girl
with the red beret?
your sister asked
she'd seen you
and Janice
and her gran
on the way home
from school
she probably walking
with her friend
following behind
and Janice said
I made a picture today
out of cut up
pieces of paper
and the teacher said
it was the best
she'd seen
her gran said
Now now Janice
mustn't boast
I expect
there were other pictures
equally as good
But teacher said it
not me
Janice replied
Did you make a picture?
her gran asked you
her eyes falling on you
and taking in
your look
like a rabbit caught
in headlamps of a car
in the night
Yes
you said
I made a picture
of a morning sunset
out of red and yellow
and green for the grass
and blue for the sky
Janice smiled
and touched your hand
surreptitiously
her small hand
feeling along
your skin
Did you make it
out of cut up
pieces of paper too?
her gran asked
you sensed Janice's fingers
squeezing into your hand
No
you replied
I did it with water colour paints
and what did teacher say?
her gran asked
she said it reminded her
of a Jackson Pollock
whoever he is
you said
looking at Janice's red beret
and her hair
coming from beneath
so wonderfully
unlike your
short back and sides
and unlike her hair
with its red coloured
hair slides.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Way To The City
A CITIZEN CAME ACROSS A NATIVE AND SAID, WHICH WAY I BEG OF THEE' LEADS TO THE CITY? HE ASKED THE NATIVE WHO REPLIED! OH, EVERY WAY BUT THIS WAY! AND THE SURPRISED CITIZEN ASKED CURIOUSLY, WHAT MEAN YOU BY THAT STATEMENT? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, WELL, THIS WAY LEADS TO MY NATIVITY, THAT MUCH I AM SURE OF!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Flick-Knife Incident
After the argument
'Helen said'. 'Granny said'.
'Paul said'. 'Granny said'.
'Larry asked'.
Granny,
Who is Mrs Devereux,
Pulled out a flick-knife.
'! ', 'Helen said'.
'Helen asked'. Granny (lengthily replied) .
'Helen asked'. Granny (abruptly replied) .
'Helen asked'. 'Her grandmother said'.
'Larry said'. 'Paul said'.
'Larry asked', 'Does Declan know? '
'Granny said'.
'Larry said', 'I must go and tell.'
Lily 'addressed Paul'.
'Larry said'. 'Mrs Devereux said'. 'Paul said'.
'Lily said', 'Declan's getting sick...'
'Paul asked'. 'Helen said'. 'Paul said'.
Enough said.
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 15
Hatim Tai, having been asked whether he had seen in the world anyone of more exalted sentiments than himself, replied: ‘Yes, one day I slaughtered forty camels to entertain Arab amirs. I had occasion to go out on some business into a corner of the desert, where I noticed a gatherer of briars, who had accumulated a hillock of thistles, and I asked him why he had not become a guest of Hatim since many people had come round to his banquet but he replied:
“Who eats bread by the work of his own hand
Will not bear to be obliged to Hatim Tai.”
Then I saw that his sentiments were more exalted than mine.’
The Coin And A Boy
THE COIN AND A BOY
WHY DO YOU LOOK SO UNHAPPY SONNY? A MAN ASKED A YOUNG LAD WHO HE MET ON THE WAY TO HIS STALL! AND THE BOY REPLIED THUS, SAYING, I LOST MY COIN, AND AS I CRIED, A MAN GAVE ME ANOTHER COIN! HE STATED, AND THE INQUISITIVE MAN ASKED AGAIN, IF THAT BE SO, THEN WHY DO YOU LOOK SO UNHAPPY STILL? AND THE BOY REPLIED, OH, NOW THAT I HAVE THIS COIN, IT WOULD HAVE BEEN TWO COINS WITH ME INSTEAD OF ONE, IF I HADNT LOST MY COIN! HE STATED
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ch 04 On The Advantages Of Silence Story 14
A fellow with a disagreeable voice happened to be reading the Quran, when a pious man passed near, and asked him what his monthly salary was. He replied: ‘Nothing.’ He further inquired: ‘Then why takest thou this trouble?’ He replied: ‘I am reading for God’s sake.’ He replied: ‘For God’s sake do not read.’
If thou readest the Quran thus
Thou wilt deprive the religion of splendour.
Cry a tear
Cry a tear for the women of abuse
Cry a tear for those who abuse
Cry a tear those in broken marraiges
Cry a tear for everyone who feels used
Cry a tear for the teens of prostitution
Cry a tear for the teens on drugs
Cry a tear for teens under pressure
Cry a tear for teens without love
Cry a tear for the child of slave labour
Cry a tear for the child of rape
Cry a tear for the people who did this to them
Cry a tear for all those who hate
Cry a tear for HIV/AIDS
Cry a tear for destroyed homes
Cry a tear for the wickedness of suicide
Cry a tear for everyone who feels alone
Cry a tear for people in jail
Cry a tear for those who sin
Cry a tear for people who have lost someone
Cry a tear for those who cheat to win
Cry a tear for alcoholics
Cry a tear for people on the streets
Cry a tear for youngsters involved in crime
Cry a tear for everyone you meet
Cry a tear for abandoned babies
Cry a tear for poverty
Cry a tear for all the racism
Cry a tear for you and me
poem by Natasha Potter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Recently, I was asked if I was going to fire an employee who made a mistake that cost the company $600,000. No, I replied, I just spent $600,000 training him. Why would I want somebody to hire his experience?
quote by Thomas John Watson, Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Recently, I was asked if I was going to fire an employee who made a mistake that cost the company 600,000. No, I replied, I just spent 600,000 training him. Why would I want somebody to hire his experience
quote by Thomas John Watson, Sr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!