Practice, the master of all things.
quote by Augustus Octavius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Practice Every Step
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no sleeping for someone who has a place to go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Focus on that goal,
And tighten on your hold,
And...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Do not second guess what it takes.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Every journey taken,
Must be thought of as a race...
And,
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
There's no other way to straighten out a crooked road,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
No matter what you're told,
There will be some doubts and woes...
But you,
Practice every step.
Yes you,
Practice every step.
Woes you hold will eventually go,
So...
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
Practice every step.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Your Spirit Right
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
Of prayer...
Everyday.
You can!
Care less about the he said,
Or she said...
Conflicting pickers of fights.
They'll keep you awake with sleepless nights.
Be true to your practice,
In active...
Prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Erratic tactics,
Keep captive...
With distractions,
To minimize your pride.
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
Be active in the practice,
With swift actions of your prayers...
Everyday.
You can!
Get your spirit right!
Let backbiters do what they do.
You can choose not to approve!
Just keep your practice,
Active...
In prayer,
Everyday.
You can!
Don't worry about their appetites...
For doing things the wrong way.
You stay on the side of what's right,
Now!
Practice.
Active,
Prayer...
Everyday,
You can!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Art
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop (1976)
Submitted by anonym
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Lord of the Flies
Oh Master my Master
Oh where have you been
I wallowed in filth and
I drowned in sin
Oh Master my Master
It's my rotten luck
To swim in the decay
And swallow the muck
Oh Master my Master
I stand in the fires
Surrounded by murderers
Thieves, cheaters, and liars
Oh Master my Master
the earth has turned red
Fluid with blood
Of the recently dead
Oh Master my Master
What's wrong with the world
The blackness unfolds
Like a flag that's unfurled
Oh Master my Master
You ignore my cries
And now I'm quite sure
You're the Lord of the Flies
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Am I a master
I am the master, master of art
have painted true pictures,
of rising sun, mountain, sea
through jungles flowing rivers,
shining stars, birds, cloudy sky,
can paint anything and everything.
insects, lions, bear and deer.
just like the living things.
I am the master, master of art,
can make my own paint and brush
Alas! but cannot create raw material
of any of paint, brush or canvas.
Oh! can not paint these seven
which are made only in heaven:
smell, touch, look, hear and taste,
emotions, thought and breathe.
No, I am not the master, master of art
can paint uncountable things yet not.
Not possible to paint love and laugh
I have to go again and again to learn
to the supreme master, who painted
the universe, stars, moon and sun
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You've got to learn your instrument. Then, you practice, practice, practice. And then, when you finally get up there on the bandstand, forget all that and just wail.
quote by Charlie Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I know you've heard it a thousand times before. But it's true - hard work pays off. If you want to be good, you have to practice, practice, practice. If you don't love something, then don't do it.
quote by Ray Bradbury
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Master Spoke.
Why is the world here today?
The Master Spoke.
Why are we sinners, like sheep gone astray?
The Master Spoke.
Why all this toil, no comfort of Eden,
Since man didn't obey?
The Master Spoke.
Why work the dust of the ground, from whence we came,
And eat 'By the sweat of our brow? '
The Master Spoke.
Why do we, naturally,
Posess the desire to before,
God, want to worship and adore?
The Master Spoke.
Why is Jesus glorified,
And why, for sinners, did he die?
The Master Spoke.
Why shall God return again,
To take away Isreal, His bride?
Why me, a sinner, justified?
The Master Spoke.
Why will there be Revelations, wars,
And roomers of wars,
Nearing the End Times?
The Master Spoke.
Why is God an eternal Being,
But the world shall be no more?
The Master Spoke.
Why is it, that when a man speaks,
His words blow away
As kernals of grain,
And yet, when God speaks, his Word is as rock,
Forever to remain?
The Master Spoke -
'Heaven and Earth shall pass away,
But my words shall never pass away.'
Why do these things occur,
And as it were,
The penalty of sin man did not have to pay?
The Master Spoke -
'For God so loved the world,
That he gave his only Son,
That whoever believes in him
Shall not perish,
But have the gift of eternal life.
Why?
The Master Spoke.
'Go now! Help the needy,
And the weak!
Save hearts that are broken! '
Hurry, now!
The Master has Spoken.
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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By this way you may dress all sorts of horses in the utmost perfection, if you know how to practice it; a thing that is very easy in the hands of a master.
quote by William Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pornography is the instruction. Rape is the practice, battered women are the practice, and battered children are the practice.
quote by Gloria Steinem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School is practice for future life, practice makes perfect and nobodys perfect, so why practice?
quote by Billie Joe Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man has to learn that he cannot command things, but that he can command himself; that he cannot coerce the wills of others, but that he can mold and master his own will: and things serve him who serves Truth; people seek guidance of him who is master of himself.
quote by James Allen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Practice Maker Perfect
D. roberts / e. gold
If practice makes perfect
Lets try that old embrace
In some romantic place
Where we can take out time
If practice makes perfect
Just close you eyes again
Well try those sights again
And make them more sublime
Were in loves kindergarden
Learning from a to z
And if its fun just starting
Think what its going to be
If practice makes perfect
Lets have that kiss again
We mustn miss again
Were not doing bad right now
Were not doing bad
Lets practice some more
Were not doing bad right now
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master
Master went a-hunting,
When the leaves were falling;
We saw him on the bridle path,
We heard him gaily calling.
'Oh master, master, come you back,
For I have dreamed a dream so black!'
A glint of steel from bit and heel,
The chestnut cantered faster;
A red flash seen amid the green,
And so good-bye to master.
Master came from hunting,
Two silent comrades bore him;
His eyes were dim, his face was white,
The mare was led before him.
'Oh, master, master, is it thus
That you have come again to us?'
I held my lady's ice-cold hand,
They bore the hurdle past her;
Why should they go so soft and slow?
It matters not to master.
poem by Arthur Conan Doyle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mathematics
I've really done enough of sums,
I've done so very many,
That now instead of doing sum
I'd rather not do any.
I've toiled until my fingers are
With writing out of joint;
And even now of Decimals
I cannot see the point.
Subtraction to my weary mind
Brings nothing but distraction,
And vulgar and improper I
Consider every fraction.
"Practice makes perfect," so they say.
It may be true. The fact is
That I unhappily am not
Yet perfect in my Practice.
Discount is counted troublesome
By my unlearned pate;
For cubic root I entertain
A strongly rooted hate.
The heathen worship stocks and stones;
My pious soul it shocks
To be instructed thus to take
An Interest in Stocks.
Of Algebra I fear I have
A very vague impression;
I study hard, but fail to make
Harmonical Progression.
In Euclid too I always climb
The Asses' Bridge with pain;
A superficies to me
Is anything but plane.
"Apply yourself," my master said,
When I my woes confided,
"And, when you multiply, bestow
Attention undivided."
Oh, if one master tries so hard
Tyrannical to be,
How out of all Proportion I
Should find a Rule of Three.
poem by Arthur Clement Hilton
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I Know What My Master Does
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
My Master is available whenever I call.
My Master is everything and to me my all.
My Master has seen me stumble and fall,
To get up off my knees to again walk tall.
And if it wasn't for my Master I'd be left to crawl.
I am aware ot this.
I know where my Master lives.
I need no invitation to visit where He is.
I know where my Master lives.
I know what my Master does.
I witness this on a daily basis.
And not with eyes fixed on skies above.
I know what my Master does,
Can do...
And has done for me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet-Sexes Are Unequal
No man can do all things, a woman does;
No woman does the things, a man can do;
Unequal are the sexes, why make fuss?
Some things a woman does, a man can too!
And what an adult does, a child can't too;
What children do, an adult surely can't;
The things the elderly do, can youth do?
None can like how the priests do, prayers chant.
Each sex and age is meant to do some things;
The others can't outdo them in their field;
Yet, constant practice much perfection brings;
Vying alone can't improve each farm's yield!
Let’s strive to do better, the things we ought;
Never degrade those for things they cannot.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Message
o master, i get the point
i must write, and must make them
understand about a place that
is devoid of houses and trains.
o master, i get the message
i must write a poem about
a mirage, things that seem
to be, but are not,
i must take them to that place
of haze, and yet the flowers are
so real, that someone did not just
smell but take some petals to eat.
all of these ransom faces
they take for granted what reality
is all about.
It is the understanding that
things are better be left alone.
They grow without us, the grass.
They spin, without us, the planets
The sun stays in place, even if
explode our minds.
This the message, we are here
to drink the water
why do we have to make one?
why do we have to
explain why?
O master, let us live.
We have taken everything
for granted.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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