Adventure must be held in delicate fingers. It should be handled, not embraced. It should be sipped, not swallowed at a gulp.
Ashley Dukes in The Man with a Load of Mischief (1924)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Baby Cry
Baby cry -
Oh fie! -
At the physic in the cup:
Gulp it twice
And gulp it thrice,
Baby gulp it up.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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What's A Heaven For
'Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp-
or what's a heaven for? '
-Robert Browning
This life
is all
in my hands
It's where I held
dreams desires
Too many mysteries
Losses lives loves
Where I've held words
like broken heaven heart
Lifted up every moment
like a feather or cloud
These hands
once opened
themselves
into yours
Entered
your fingers
one by one
Embraced
each one
as though
unfolding
heaven
I still reach
for you
in the night
My hands
empty
But I keep
dreaming
Or what's a heaven for
poem by Ari' Anna Arena
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Evilties
Evilties sipped,
And poured in discretion.
mmm...
Delicious
And dripping off,
The dastard deeds...
Of secretive quipping lips.
With a satisfaction deemed,
To please and bring to daylight!
There is a darkness intended,
Behind all of it.
These evilties sipped,
And loving to inflict.
Evilties sipped,
With homemade crumpets
Filled with whipped demonicness.
To spread
To lay
In a comfortness.
That does its best...
To infest a digesting of it!
And bringing some to rage,
In a crazed reception.
Idealized with idolized accepting perfection.
mmm...
These evilties sipped,
To lick a peace that ceases.
These evilties completed...
Until everyone at night,
Is startled by nightmares that incite.
And frightens by the sight,
Of imposing disturbing shadows.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Swallowed
Warm sun feed me up
i'm leery loaded up
loathing for a change
and i slip some
boil away
swallowed followed
heavy about everything
but my love
swallowed sorrowed
i'm with everyone and yet not
i'm with everyone and yet not
i'm with everyone and yet not
just wanna be myself
hey you said that you would love to try
some
hey you said that you would love to die
some
in the middle of a world on a fishhook
you're the wave
you're the wave
you're the wave
swallowed borrowed
heavy about everything
but my love
swallowed hollowed
sharp about everyone
but yourself
swallowed oh no
i'm with everyone and yet not
i'm with everyone and you're not
i'm with everyone and yet not
piss on self-esteem
forward busted knee
sick head
blackened lungs
and i'm a simple selfish son
swallowed followed
oh no i'm with everyone and yet not
got to get away from here
got to get away from here
i miss the one that i love a lot
i miss the one that i love a lot
song performed by by Bush from Razorblade Suitcase
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hold On
I was doomed riding on top a black horse.
Whatever prize there was I could only observe where the troubles starts.
Where does it end?
I cannot be cured...mmm...but if...
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on.
Gave her life away. Put it in my pocket when it should've been framed.
Oh lost it's shine. Gotta' get this out of my head, out of my head.
How could it end...end like this?
I could've been...
I know life would be different had I held on, held on.
I know I could've been something had I held on, held on.
I know I could be something if I held on, held on.
I know life would be different if I held on, held on.
Held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on, held on, if I held on.
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Living A Boys Adventure Tale
(pal waaktaar/morten harket)
Ive fixed my dwelling for the night
Lights in pairs come passing by
Where I hide
I need some time now on my own
Leave my loneliness alone
To lick my wounds
Night has found me just in time
To help me close my eyes
One more time
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale
For so many days
Im living a boys adventure tale
Cant escape, if I wanted to
Living a boys adventure tale
I may be dreaming but I feel awake
Ive been lost in so many places
Seeked love in so many faces
A change of weather,
The rain pours down
My head in hands,
Pressed to the ground
And where am I supposed to go now
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways
Living a boys adventure tale (aah)
Living a boys adventure tale
A voice I hear
Living a boys adventure tale
Singing a lullaby for me
Living a boys adventure tale
Because of you
Living a boys adventure
Oh you know its true
Living a boys adventure tale
In so many ways (aah)
For so many days
I love you. I love you
So many ways
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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thy Delicate Lips
Thy delicate lips
Thy delicate lips
Ye talking eyes
Yond curly locks
These velvety hands
Cone shaped Fingers
On a Brittle wrist
Milky white feet
And prominent nose
Under lucky forehead
Are well arranged
As a rhyming scheme
In a classical sonnet
poem by Akram Saqib
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Dreaming The Breasts
Mother,
strange goddess face
above my milk home,
that delicate asylum,
I ate you up.
All my need took
you down like a meal.
What you gave
I remember in a dream:
the freckled arms binding me,
the laugh somewhere over my woolly hat,
the blood fingers tying my shoe,
the breasts hanging like two bats
and then darting at me,
bending me down.
The breasts I knew at midnight
beat like the sea in me now.
Mother, I put bees in my mouth
to keep from eating
yet it did no good.
In the end they cut off your breasts
and milk poured from them
into the surgeon's hand
and he embraced them.
I took them from him
and planted them.
I have put a padlock
on you, Mother, dear dead human,
so that your great bells,
those dear white ponies,
can go galloping, galloping,
wherever you are.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Fingers Of Love
Can you imagine this
An itch to sensitive to scratch
The light that falls through the cracks
An insect to delicate to catch
I hear the endless murmur
Every blade of grass that shivers in the breeze
And the sound that comes to carry me
Across the land and over the sea
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I can't look back
Fingers of love move down
Colour is its own reward
Colour is its own reward
The chiming of a perfect chord
Let's go jumping overboard
Into waves of joy and clarity
Your hands come out to rescue me
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
Fall by the way
From the cradle to the grave
From a palace to the gutter
From beneath the dying waves
To the sun like fingers of love
Through waves of joy and clarity
A fallen angel walked on the sea
And I'm playing in the shallow water
Laughing while the mad dog sleeps
And I can't look up
Fingers of love move down
And I won't be hit
Fingers of love move everywhere
There is time yet
For you to find me
And all I want
Fingers of love move down
song performed by by Crowded House
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching Football
With each twist and turn
And each amazing run
Controlling ball like a delicate urn
Each move giving a warning stern.
I am stuck in my chair like a fern
As for more action I yearn
More and more swear words I learn
Eyes fixed on telly, everything else I spurn.
As player's calories start to burn
Mine gets added on in return
As I drink, gulp and churn
Watching football can be fun.
CR VGA
Rdnr 19/6/08
poem by Vikram G. Aarella
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I saw (an infatuated student)
Yesterday I saw a teacher,
An interesting teacher,
And the memory is still so clear.
From side to side she swayed
As she explained
And concepts relayed.
All this time
A big smile played
On her luscious lips
That I was tempted to brush
I must confess,
Not with my fingers
Nor the conventional brush
But I do know you know
So I need not specify.
Patiently she handled
Anyone who caused trouble
And with a voice so musical
Held us captive
Ensuring all were active
Stimulating my imagination
Bringing to life thoughts
That I dare not reveal
For it borders on abomination.
What a teacher!
I had to shake my head
To make it clear
For if I didn't
What I was tempted to do
To disclose I fear
poem by Ibrahim Bidu
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Play Me
I must say youre really something else
The way youre tearing down my house
And I know youd never stoop so low
As to rebuild it somewhere else
You know how to play me
Everybody knows you can handle me
Play me
Nothing can compare with what Ive found today
It hasnt always been this good
I havent always loved you like I should
But its really something else
I love you like I never thought I could
You got to play me
Everybody knows I been woman handled
Play me
Nothing can compare with what Ive found today
Been out on my own
For too many years
You came not a day too soon - I was out of my mind
You swallowed my pride
And dried all my tears
Gone is the only tune
I sang
You really know
You really know how to
You really know how to play me
All the women of my dreams
Were the kind who lived beyond my means
But I know youd never stoop so low
Your love is always what it seems
You got to play me
Everybody knows Ive been - woman handled
Play me
Nothing can compare with what Ive found today
Here in the night
Its a shot in the dark
For sure thats a chance Ill take -one day at a time
A feeling so right
Its a walk in the park
Its so easy to make or break
She sang
So easy
Suis reste seul
Pour trop longtemps
Vide de coeur
Vide de sens
Tu es arrivee
Secher mes larmes
Reconforte, je te regarde
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth’s End
I HAVE held my life too high,
Spring and harvest, love and laughter, smile and sigh.
I should have held it lightly, like a young leaf rent in haste
From the willow in the waste.
A moment in my fingers; then it fluttered, then it fled,
A little flame of red,
To the God-beholding desert where the soundless years go by,–
I have held my life too high.
I have held my death too dear,
Shame or honour, peace or peril, pride or fear.
I should have held it softly, as the little cloud that flies
When the heron takes the skies.
I should have held it kindly as a passing whisper,–'Friend,
Here's the end,
Here the silver cord is loosened and the bowl is broken here,'–
But I held my death too dear.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Song be Delicate
Let your song be delicate.
The skies declare
No war — the eyes of lovers
Wake everywhere.
Let your voice be delicate.
How faint a thing
Is Love, little Love crying
Under the Spring.
Let your song be delicate.
The flowers can hear:
Too well they know the tremble,
Of the hollow year.
Let your voice be delicate.
The bees are home:
All their day's love is sunken
Safe in the comb.
Let your song be delicate.
Sing no loud hymn:
Death is abroad . . . Oh, the black season!
The deep — the dim!
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Anxiety About The Post Death
How your progeny grows and branches
Is beyond your knowledge after death.
How people, loyal to you and to whom
You’d been, are helpful to your children
Also is beyond your comprehension.
How the things you handled, will be handled
By your progeny is a dilemma.
These pains worry you about the death.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I See You in Your Fingers
I see your fingers
I see you in your fingers
I see your history from your fingers
I feel your touch from your fingers
They don't tell a lie to me
They don't give me a fake smile
Or promising kiss
But they give me a warm hold
and tickling touch
I see you from your fingers
I see the truth from your fingers
I see you in your fingers
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Broken
Fading out
Holding out
The innocent way
Loves run out
Left this world inside of me
Crying out
Screaming out
As the echoes within
The cat is out
No more secrets left within
The feelings gone
You swallowed the sun
One by one
The bolder has come
The feelings gone
You swallowed the sun
And wave goodbye to love again
Staring down
Tears roll down
And now that you feed
A Broken cloud
A covers torn for all to see
The feelings gone
You swallowed the sun
One by one
The bolder has come
The feelings gone
You swallowed the sun
And wave goodbye to love again
Fading out
Burning out
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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He Embraced Death
He embraced Death,
Death, the thought of which,
Made men shiver and abhor it,
Death, which had the reputation,
Of being the ultimate victor,
Death, which could humble,
Even the mightiest.
He embraced Death,
Death, which laughed,
Even at the most robust of men,
Death, which mocked every birth,
Knowing that it would overcome,
Death, which thought,
That it had no challenger.
He embraced Death,
Death, which was mean,
And humiliating in its quest,
Ravaging some of its prey,
Till it gained infinite pleasure,
Death, which never would,
Accept ‘no’ from man or beast.
Yes, He embraced Death,
And took it by the throat,
Nailed it to the Cross,
Till Death in pain cried out,
To the Author of Life,
'You are the Victor'
And Victors will be they who believe in you.
poem by Caleb Jones
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Judy and You and Chagall
What did you think
of the Chagall postcard print
I bought you?
Judy asked as you both sat
outside the Fox Inn
I pinned it on my wall
you replied
and stared at it every time
I entered the room
thinking of you
she sipped her drink
her eyes searching you
her hair tied behind
in a ponytail
so I gathered
by your letters
she said
putting her glass
on the small wooden table
I missed you
you said
I went to London
while you were away
and saw you
in every girl I saw
even at the ballet
at the opera house
she looked at her glass
I was only away for a week
she said
it seemed a year
you said
you inhaled the cigarette
you were holding
taking in her hair
and eyes and how
her lips moved
as she spoke
Florence was fantastic
she said
I picked out
that Chagall print for you
in one of the art galleries
who did you go with?
you asked
friends
she replied
male or female?
both
she said
you inhaled the cigarette again
and thought of the first time
you kissed her
how the moonlight
shone on her face
as you moved her around
you mustn't be so jealous
she said
I have to see others
who was the guy?
Henrik
she said
you imagined her
and this Henrik
making out
in some Florence hotel
his hands touching her
I thought of you
every moment
you said
that's sad
she said
why?
you said
because no one
should think of another
that often
she sipped her drink
and looked around
at the evening sky
how was Florence?
beautiful
she said
like you
you said
I am like Shakespeare's' lily
she said
as it withers
she added
I see
you said
and you studied
her hands as they lifted
the glass to her lips
the fingers
the skin
the way they held
the glass
did you read my letters
when you got home?
you asked
yes
she said
every single one
my mother said
I must have besotted
some poor soul
and you thought
of the Chagall print
and how you had sniffed it
for traces of her scent
and remembered
your mother's words
nothing is given forever
things in this world
are only lent.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Rose
In my hand I held the rose
As I would a woman dear,
Within my fingers I held it tight
As I wished it would not disappear.
From the touch, sight and beauty that I knew,
When the kiss of beauty, once had blew.
I held the rose as I would a love
As I had held in memory and thought,
And then the rose I could not let go
For the same as a lover, she became my soul.
The stem became the body and the petals became the skin,
Then I held her lightly, within the wind.
The rose held me, as I had held her
The two of us had become one
Then the act of God had prevailed that day
For he commanded the wind to take the rose away.
And towards the heavens She had flew,
As though to join the love that I once had knew.
In my hand there laid a thorn
Though to remind me of the sting of death,
So upon the Earth, I then laid the thorn
So love of life could again be reborn.
I buried the thorn as you would a dream,
Knowing never again, will it be seen.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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