To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.
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To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.
Diligent as one must be in learning, one must be as diligent in forgetting; otherwise the process is one of pedantry, not culture.
quote by Albert J. Nock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Granny Them Words
Make hay while the sun shines
Don’t be idle don’t waste time
Think before you talk
You must creep before you walk
Idle hands find idle things to do
Do unto others as you want done unto you
Short cut leads to short life
Every man needs a house for his wife
Go to school get an education
For the world is full of corruption
Birds of a feather flock together
Respect your mother and father
Early to bed and early to rise
Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise
Like a song from a flock of birds
These where Granny Theme Words
This poem is dedicated to my deceased grandmother Maude Patterson may she rest in peace.
poem by Anthony Yorke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chess is a foolish expedient for making idle people believe they are doing something very clever when they are only wasting their time.
quote by George Bernard Shaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short Peoople
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
Short People got no reason
To live
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little fett
Well I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Round here
Short People are just the same
As you and I
(A Fool Such As I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It's A Wonderful World)
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
And they stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That got beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
Don't want no Short People
'Round here
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boredom Is Death's Luxury
BOREDOM IS DEATH'S LUXURY
Boredom is Death's Luxury,
The idle wasting of an idle life.
What Chance do we have to dream
When inside all is
Empty and Ended
Lost?
Oh we will begin again somehow, somewhere else.
But today now inside
Is only this Nowhereness
This Endless Stillness
This Nothingness.
Boredom is the Horror of Everyday Life
I feel this now so deeply
as I write this.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Obviously, people with low or even moderate incomes could not afford such savings rates, and even diligent savings from their low wages would not be enough to pay for either retirement or healthcare.
quote by William Greider
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Short People
Short people
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live
They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
'round here
Short people are just the same
As you and i
(a fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(its a wonderful world)
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
Theyre gonna get you every time
Well, I dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
Dont want no short people
round here
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Idle in June
She dares not let the world hear her speak,
She's getting thin and looking meek,
A grey hair is splitting in her widows peak
She lays idle in the month of June.
Her hands are cracked and stained from mud,
although she bathes in lathered suds
There's a little of me inside her blood
She lays idle in the month of June
She carries child at her old age,
She's stuck inside her fleshy cage,
Her father birthed her insidious rage
She lays idle in the month of June.
They locked her in a cell up high,
The crime of seeking suicide
Some women they are born only to die,
She lays idle in the month of June.
One day, I know, I'll see her soon,
How I loathe the month of June,
We'll met again come the next new moon,
I won't forget her, idle in the month of June.
poem by H.J. Shreeve
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Misfortune That
Misfortune that
I am unable to know
My mistakes and faults
And you kept me here
In this cage as a
Life prisoner and
Kept me idle.
Misfortune that
Here I am
And with my consent
And I know not
When to go
And where and you
Kept me idle.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd like people to remember me for a diligent expert workman. I think a poet is a workman. I think Shakespeare was a workman. And God's a workman. I don't think there's anything better than a workman.
quote by Laurence Olivier
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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What Death Is Great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: what death is great?
People who die a Martyr's death are great!
Some people die in wars, fighting their foes;
Some people die for no reason but fate!
Some die all life-time, suffering death-throes!
And some get killed by evil men's designs;
And some die foolishly, by grave mistake;
Some die by road-disasters and in mines!
Some die by poison-taking of own make.
What kind of death is greatest in God's eyes?
The man who dies for sake of God on earth!
The man who dies for cause of Truth and wise!
The man who dies for sake of Heaven's mirth!
Thus, Peter died a cruel death for God,
receiving keys of Heaven as reward!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beside The Idle Summer Sea
Beside the idle summer sea,
And in the vacant summer days,
Light Love came fluting down the ways,
Where you were loitering with me.
Who have not welcomed even as we,
That jocund minstrel and his lays
Beside the idle summer sea
And in the vacant summer days?
We listened, we were fancy-free;
And lo! in terror and amaze
We stood alone – alone and gaze
With an implacable memory
Beside the idle summer sea.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Legends
I
A MAN builded a bugle for the storms to blow.
The focused winds hurled him afar.
He said that the instrument was a failure.
II
When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: "Why?"
He replied: "Because no one admired me."
III
A man said: "Thou tree!"
The tree answered with the same scorn: "Thou man!
Thou art greater than I only in thy possibilities."
IV
A warrior stood upon a peak and defied the stars.
A little magpie, happening there, desired the soldier's plume, and so plucked it.
V
The wind that waves the blossoms sang, sang, sang from age to age.
The flowers were made curious by this joy.
"Oh, wind," they said, "why sing you at your labour, while we, pink beneficiaries, sing not, but idle, idle, idle from age to age?"
poem by Stephen Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wise And The Foolish
Oh woe is me if all around me thinks me foolish!
Oh woe is me for all around me have tought themselves wise!
Wise is he that knows that he is foolish and seeks to be wise!
And foolish is he that knows not that he is a fool and thus seeks not wisdom!
Oh man, answer thee this! Is it better to be foolishly wise or to be wisely foolish?
Seek thou the truth and it shall set you free from thy woes!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A diligent man ever finds that something remains to be done.
Who is quick in youth will be diligent in old age.