"proverb" poems
There are different types of women
As you may very well know
I am here to talk about her,
And her goodness I will show
A virtuous woman is
And talks of good things,
The joy of her love is strong,
And happiness it will bring
She works with her hands and
Takes good care of her home
She comforts her husband
When he is feeling alone.
She teaches her children and
Trains them very well
There is so much to be said
About a virtuous woman but
Not enough time to tell.
Proverb 18 and 22 said;
Whosoever finds a wife,
Which is a woman,
Find a good thing and obtain
Favor in the Lord;
They will remain together
Till death do them part.
A virtuous woman is not
Slothful in business
And serving the Lord
Doing wrong will not be
Found in her mind,
Or even in her heart.
Her husband trust her
Every step of the way,
He will never let her go
No matter what you say.
She dresses accordingly
To make her husband proud
She speaks with a gentle
Voice, not very loud.
She is always doing things to
Get her husband praise, sometimes
Just watching her
Will keep him so amazed.
A virtuous woman is strong
And worth more than
Rubies itself; and when
Her family hurt, she
Hurt more herself.
A woman shall be praised
If she is a woman that
Fear the Lord. A virtuous woman
Qualifies with mind, spirit,
Soul, and heart.
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
“An ill of greed has befallen the land,”
“A quickening sickness which seeks to prey…”
“Where wealth accumulates and men decay.”
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
Lack of money is lack of friends; if you have money at your disposal, every dog and goat will claim to be related to you. ~ Yoruba
War has no eyes ~ Swahili saying
There can be no peace without understanding. ~Senegalese proverb
A leader who does not take advice is not a leader. ~ Kenyan proverb
If there is character, ugliness becomes beauty; if there is none, beauty becomes ugliness. ~Nigerian Proverb
Unity is strength, division is weakness. ~ Swahili proverb
Wisdom does not come overnight. ~ Somali proverb
Knowledge without wisdom is like water in the sand. ~ Guinean proverb
Home affairs are not talked about on the public square. ~ African proverb
Show me your friend and I will show you your character. ~ African proverb
Make some money but don’t let money make you. ~ Tanzania
When you are rich, you are hated; when you are poor, you are despised. - African proverb
A man who uses force is afraid of reasoning. ~Kenyan proverb
Traveling is learning. ~Kenyan Proverb
What you learn is what you die with. ~ African proverb
He who is destined for power does not have to fight for it. ~ Ugandan proverb
It takes a village to raise a child. ~ African proverb
Poverty is slavery. ~Somalia
The wealth which enslaves the owner isn’t wealth. ~ Yoruba
Much wealth brings many enemies. – Swahili
You are beautiful, but learn to work, for you cannot eat your beauty. ~Congolese Proverb
A pretty face and fine clothes do not make character. ~Congolese Proverb
Show me your friend and I will show you your character. ~ African proverb
A close friend can become a close enemy.~ African proverb
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
The Pill Poppers Proverb For Purchasing:
Only buy from friends
who'll give you
the solid truth.
Capsules can
carry lies
they could
have been
in
the hands
of stoned-cold-heart
killer
or
careless self-proclaimed pharmacist?
It's hard to spot
a double agent
in a sea of sunglasses.
Stickwitchure gut.
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
El oro, cuando lo golpea, brilla.
I want to stand at 3,082 meters
On the overlook above Machu Picchu — close
Enough to the edge so my timid toes
Flirt with wild columbine and teeter
On white granite stones laid centuries ago.
Speak to me the way the Andes
Breathe cumulus clouds phthalo blue. Seek
Answers in the form of temples. Slow
Down time in the Room with Three Windows —
Hanan-Pacha: bless my fears with conviction.
Kay-Pacha: reject this earth’s mundane affliction.
Ukju-Pacha: watch my seedling-soul as it grows.
Move with me in cyclical certainty from ruin
To reverence, beyond what words can measure —
Even the old Peruvian proverb for treasure.
Our trials make us mountains among humans.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
There is an old proverb
And this is how it goes
'A ship is safe when harbored,
Snugly in land that's closed.'
But ships weren't meant to be harbored,
They were not built to be snug but free,
Their masts to fly high and proud,
Through the stormy waves of seas.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 5:35 PM UTC
Beneath,
I amused fear,
drowning immersed in faith.
Near my final breath I mused Latin,
the etymology of 'entertain'.
*Tormented;
by mistake.
Entertaining fear,
over entertaining faith.*
In the quiet silence of revelation,
I took stock,
&
looked up,
180° degrees,
poised
&
compassed
my flesh,
to
unbolt
the chains
of misdirection
bound to the recess of my soul.
Unleashed!
Now to hike the proverbial mountain,
cobbled
in the boots of Wisdom.
Contemplative.
Afloat,
aloft its height,
coiffured
safe
by the proverb,
transfigured,
by wisdom of consciousness.
© Qwey.ku
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
It wasnt long before the baluster flapped somewhere in the distance and Icarus knew how old he had been on the day of his birth. For whatever reason, the snow capped cappuccinos he had willfully destroyed in a heated debate on fiscal policy had him beginning again. Why was there always a beginning where there was an end? Fur traders used to circumnavigate the Hudson's Bay of his humanity when he was young, sharing drinks and fire water whiskey like it was all an H2O ready for the soul search. Sadly, many ended up in Hitlers concentration camps weeks after the **** invasion of Poland, about a month or so before the fall of the Roman Empire. Beginning with a last breath, Icarus strode off the plank with a new-found confidence unnatural in his niceties of long past. It was as if 1 minute and 35 seconds was enough to dish a clamouring populace onto the dinner table before the fat step-father gleefully orders
everyone to 'dig in, everyone!'
Cancelling everyone's appointment with Dr. Pardon meant the gaining of a key participatory certificate in El Dorado, and the gold lingering in dusty sun-beams was sifted for the taking. Some got rich, the rest got miserable. The rest used to imagine the gold, staring at ivory towers and lottery tickets, apple cores lording over old public servant applications near the city hall drain pipes as the modern world collapsed into a flash-mob image of Ronald Reagan.
Icarus was a sliver of duskish light flittering a top distant windowsills, all cupped in an intentional light because happiness was as possible as sadness. Not that considering either would make you either.
Icarus slept as his wings incinerated at the first glimpse of the solar system. He now believed every single proverb the old ***** slumbers had whispered their children as they woke to find themselves adults.
In the beginning he found the beginning beginning again. It made him feel however you wish. Both were just as possible. Both were just as much a jazz configuration as a smooth and easy guitar rift.
Ahha!
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
speculation pulls down on the body
the quick switch into panic, akin to the comedic drop of an anvil
when you realise that things aren't as simple as they seemed
it's amazing that you could even be shocked
but when has anything ever been simple?
what else is life to you but a riddle?
the questions which rush through your brain
sweeping you off your feet and onto the gravel
curiosity lunges at you, hungry and ready to feed
to claim another life, to rip each "what if?" out from your curled fists
you should have already known the murders it is capable of
but you would never take the proverb literally, would you
"things are the way they are, because they are"
do not lie back in the mud and be defeated
pull the mystery apart, unravel the string with your mighty claws
seize the day and avenge the cat
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
a penny is a penny
and i am a monk hawking birth control pills
without any shame or pride
disguised in flamboyant tinfoil.
i am an extra sensitive *** on my daily street corner
turning into a crumb of hunger
staring down a long alleyway and eating the flowers
that grew up in concrete.
there are shadows of jugglers on the wall
jumping into the sun, and i am a burning lampshade.
henry miller is in a wheelchair now
and i am a walrus with a backache
being forced among the proverb writers,
but i'm no prophet because i've seen the bubbling fire
and the swords on the doorway.
i am a lover with a guilty conscience
and i have too much on my mind.
i stole the bread from the riot squad and
i blow out these words from a keyhole,
pounding my fist on a book
while the mystics get drunk with skinny ******
i don't go to birthday parties or funerals
instead i'd like to do something worthwhile
but i am your typical flunky, writing eccentric jokes about rich pimps
while my father lies dead on the hill.
Feb 6, 2012
Feb 6, 2012 at 8:59 AM UTC
They are silent and beautiful,
gorgeous in in the white halo,
cemented in a beautiful terrazzo,
baring the names of fallen soldiers,
the European soldiers that fell in Wars;
second and first and the heinous silent wars,
i hope this is why they have a proverb; white sepulchre,
only baring the white dead, only chiefs but no dead Indian.
Common wealth graveyards are all over in Africa,
in India , panama , Latin America and europe,
the active fronts in which the allies fought ******
they are beautifully placed in silently posh areas,
in langata when in Nairobi, in Mbaraki when in Mombasa,
in Matisi when in Kenya, In Namusungui when in Lodwar,
They bear horizontal silence with white names engraved
on their beautiful face shouting the glory of European empires,
which provoked the evil sense in the heart of the king's horseman
in Kenya, in the city of Nairobi, to steal the graveyard lands,
he made them his urban home with an uppish courtyard,
for him the dead white neighbours are better than in-corruption.
I walk around the commonwealth graveyards,
in the all quarters of erstwhile British empire,
looking for the names of African soldiers ,
who died in thousands fighting for the queen
the royal bloodied woman of England;Elizabeth,
Looking for the sons of Ethiopia who stood with
the second duce Benito son of Mussolini,
fighting for Hitler,for Shintos in the European war,
i have seen no name of any African,
I have not seen Wandabwa wa masibo,
who was conscripted into the first world war,
Along with his father Biket wa Khayongo,
Biket back after seven years in 1918,
carrying Wandabwa's Belt,
Wandabwa died in the field,
Where was he buried, he is nowhere
Not anywhere among the soldiers in cemeteries,
I have not seen Nasong'o wa Khayongo,
who was conscripted in 1940,
to fight against ******
he was conscripted on his nuptial evening,
even before he had had the first ***
with his new wife, he went away crying,
he never came back, his name is nowhere in the graves
the commonwealth graves that bare names of the fallen,
Fallen soldiers, but they all bare white names in the black world.
you come to Africa, Kenya, Nigeria, Malagasy,Egypt,
whatever the geographies of Africa, and you keep keen,
you hear someone is called Mr. Keya, or Madam Keya,
or you come to Bungoma county of Kenya,
you meet a man that is of the circumcision age group,
Known as Bakikwameti Keya, Bakinyikewi Musolini,
Keya is subverted sound for Kings african rivals; KAR
the African sound for KAR is Keya,
in reference to mass conscription of Africans
into the KAR, to fight ******
A child born during that time is Keya,
A man circumcised during the time
is in the age group of Keya,
A simple lesson in regard to our people,
taken away to fight the colonial power
and left to died and rot away in the bush
with a simple courtesy for ceremonial burial,
that come along with the death of soldiers,
who passed away in the battle field.
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 4:13 AM UTC
PENTECOST = PINKSTEREN ( in Dutch )
Especially for Mr. Syd 4ever !! God's greatest Blessings for you.
MIS - understand - in = means stand in another place,
misunderstanding = do not understand each other.
Pentecost is the language that everyone understands,
for they are pentecosted.
An empty sack can not walk right or stand upright (African proverb).
Pentecost means that we are again people
who can understand each other in the Spirit of Jesus,
let us pray to God that He again gives us the spirit of Jesus.
Let us pray singing,
Let us pray singing,
that this Pentecost will give us new strength again,
that this Pentecost may bless us again,
that this Pentecost will give us strength again to forgive our fellow man,
that this Pentecost will breathe again life in us,
with the power that is able to forgive and overcome all the mistakes and misunderstandings,
and we will also experience as such:
Forgive and be forgiven
Do not look whether we are rich or poor,
this Pentecost may allow us to experience
that feeling of complete pleasure
in all total love and peace.
That this cup may always overflow with solidarity, love and care.
Peace of the Lord be upon us
until the end of time.
Amen....
a Dedication to Syd 4ever,
with unconditional love, Sylvia.
Sylvia Frances Chan
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
"Still water runs deep." - Yiddish Proverb
To sail within a boat
never rocked or tucked within a sea.
Long grass kissing the bow.
Mosquito hum, siren stand-in.
Brother big, brother strong.
I, the groove of big brother's elbow.
Clothes on the line.
Canary yellow, A-line dress.
The spring girls swelling, rippling
from the bashful shore.
Big brother hold me over edge.
My arms, my oars.
Splashing pasture, blades receding.
Adults at birthday parties.
Brother big, brother mast.
Climb.
Not only sail, but zephyr, I.
Snake through Rusty Bike River,
the tributary.
Spill.
Into the wide, into the Harding Family Ocean.
Where dolls, hair frayed and faces smooshed,
lounge half-submerged and mostly forgotten.
Where sea dogs test chain, test spike.
Eye the confident chickens strolling dock.
And then Mother turns on porch lamp,
soft words, ebbing to lighthouse.
Brother big, big brother.
My arms, my arms.
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
A man may usually be known by the books he reads as well as by the company he keeps; for there is a companionship of books as well as of men; and one should always live in the best company, whether it be of books or of men.
A good book may be among the best of friends. It is the same today that it always was, and it will never change. It is the most patient and cheerful of companions. It does not turn its back upon us in times of adversity or distress. It always receives us with the same kindness; amusing and instructing us in youth, and comforting and consoling us in age.
Men often discover their affinity to each other by the mutual love they have for a book just as two persons sometimes discover a friend by the admiration which both entertain for a third. There is an old proverb, ‘Love me, love my dog.” But there is more wisdom in this:” Love me, love my book.” The book is a truer and higher bond of union. Men can think, feel, and sympathize with each other through their favorite author. They live in him together, and he in them.
A good book is often the best urn of a life enshrining the best that life could think out; for the world of a man’s life is, for the most part, but the world of his thoughts. Thus the best books are treasuries of good words, the golden thoughts, which, remembered and cherished, become our constant companions and comforters.
Books possess an essence of immortality. They are by far the most lasting products of human effort. Temples and statues decay, but books survive. Time is of no account with great thoughts, which are as fresh today as when they first passed through their author’s minds, ages ago. What was then said and thought still speaks to us as vividly as ever from the printed page. The only effect of time have been to sift out the bad products; for nothing in literature can long survive e but what is really good.
Books introduce us into the best society; they bring us into the presence of the greatest minds that have ever lived. We hear what they said and did; we see the as if they were really alive; we sympathize with them, enjoy with them, grieve with them; their experience becomes ours, and we feel as if we were in a measure actors with them in the scenes which they describe.
The great and good do not die, even in this world. Embalmed in books, their spirits walk abroad. The book is a living voice. It is an intellect to which on still listens.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 2:20 AM UTC
These lovers’ inklings which our loves enmesh,
Lost to the cunning and dimensional eye,
Though tenemented in the selves we see,
Not more perforce than azure to the sky,
Were necromancy-juggled to the flesh,
And startled from no daylight you or me.
For trance and silvermess those moons commend,
Which blanch the warm life silver-pale; or look
What ghostly portent mist distorts from slight
Clay shapes; the willows that the waters took
Liquid and brightened in the waters bend,
And we, in love’s reflex, seemed loved of right.
Then no more think to net forthwith love’s thing,
But cast for it by spirit sleight-of-hand;
Then only in the slant glass contemplate,
Where lineament outstripping line is scanned,
Then on the perplexed text leave pondering,
Love’s proverb is set down transliterate.
2.6k
Some of the best smiles happen at the most random moment.
Coming quick, fast.
Out of the blue.
Our lips burst and expose this wonderful happening.
Motivation to take the next step of all we carry.
The things we keep hidden.
It often comes effortless, a sort of spoken word expressed only by face.
A sensual proverb foretold by kings and queens.
Humble by nature.
The clouds pass without strife.
Forever inspired by what sets their soul a blaze in the remedy of patience.
Inherited by the same spontaneous moment we smile.
The sun isn't always dictated with an upward look.
Sometimes it just happens to be where you are.
At the part of your lips.
Unconditionally given
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
Diapers and politicians
need to be changed frequently
and for the same reasons
**************************
los panales y los politicos
hay que cambiarles a menudo
y por los mismos motivos
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 10:11 AM UTC
Rue the unlettered nugatory inequity
of insensate dishabille narcosis and
the insouciant clandestine ravish
perverse of durance's constraint.
AUSTRALIAS CODE GREY IS A HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATION.
MENTAL HEALTH ARE RAPISTS. PUT AN END TO FORCED INJECTIONS
AND THE UNCONSCIOUS UNCONSENTING SEXPLOITATION OF THE MENTALLY ILL!!!!.
NO FUNDING FOR MENTAL HEALTH AND THEIR ****** REGIME!!!
MENTAL HEALTH LAWS ARE MENTALLY ILL!!!
''the pride of women will never be laid in the dust"- Gaelic Proverb.
MENTAL HEALTH ARE RAPISTS. LYING ******* ****** DOGS!!!
SAY NO TO BUTTOCKS INJECTIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 11:53 PM UTC
the kindness of Christian does not leave
the Moslem or Jew to starve
but in feeding both-
tell the Moslem
to eat in his mosque
and the Jew
to eat in his synagogue
for while this food is healthy and good,
for Christian, Moslem, and Jew to share
syncretism will poison
your Christianity
thank one another, but eat as you worship
apart from one another
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
The mental obsession--
It won't go away,
It won't let me go,
It leads me astray…
Help me o' lord, I need to be strong!
The days are so short, my nights are long.
Do for me lord what I can't do for myself;
Put me away on some high moral shelf.
I fall on my face and I curl up to pray,
Please take it lord, please keep it at bay.
The mind is locked in, nothing else can I think;
The evil inside gives a laugh and a wink.
I have no control--there is nowhere to run!
The thorn in my side gives off heat like the sun;
I look for some answer, a proverb, a verse--
As the darkness surrounds me a prayer I rehearse.
Then finally it’s plain that release must be had;
My soul deep in sadness my addiction so bad.
My fist pounds the table--why can't I let go?
The thorn in my side makes a prisoner my soul.
The morning sun breaks to yet one more day,
My heart drops like a rock, my senses astray,
The black hole is deep and it's end can't be found,
The thorn in my side--in my misery I'll drowned.
The darkness returns and the demonic beast,
My flesh is destroyed my soul is its feast,
The heart is no matter my prayers go unheard,
The lord has abandoned—I've scoffed at his word!
I awoke in the night to bright light rushing in;
The demons all scurried as they ran from within;
Lighting and thunder, trumpets and wind;
Angelic beings came and took all my sin!
The Lord God Almighty sits high on his throne,
He never forsakes us we are never alone;
No matter how deep or how far or how wide;
The Lord and his mercy took the thorn from my side.
© William Power (2011) All rights reserved
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
Oh Henry
What a star you are!
You always loved to be at the center of attention
Your accomplishments in diplomacy are well known
You brokered the peace treaty between Israel and Egypt
You effected detente with the Soviet Union
You opened up the way for Nixon in China
You negated the Communist threat in Chile
You said it yourself
"Power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”
You have admitted that mistakes were
"Quite possibly made"
By administrations in which you served.
You have questioned whether, 30 years after the event,
"Courts are the Appropriate means by which determination is made".
And Cambodia Henry?
You were complicit
In the illegal carpet bombing of neutral Cambodia
Which sowed the seeds for the murderous Pol *** regime
Pinochet was indicted for human rights violations
Diplomacy is a ***** business
You did what you thought needed to be done
You remain cold and secretive
Do you have any remorse or regret?
The old Russian proverb is wrong Henry
Time does not heal all wounds
There is blood on your hands
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
Once upon a tym there lived a Crow..
It lived happily with its family.. Then there came a part of its life called "to be in Love".. It fell in love with a Pigeon.. It was hard, but the crow won the pigeon's heart and they lived together being under each others shadows.. Then there came a storm when they were on a long drive in the sky..
And the pigeon died..
The crow cried..
Hopelessness filled in him.. Heart broken into pieces.. Life was doomed by the fate.. But then the crow moved on but cudnt love anyone else cuz no one cared for it like the pigeon did..
But as the proverb says, "Light comes for the rescue when there is complete darkness", the crow met a Cuckoo.. Infatuation filled in him.. But it was helpless cuz the cuckoo was in love with the peacock.. Still crow stick to the cuckoo and acted foolish with her to just hear her voice to keep himself happy.. And the cuckoo who was totally opposite in many matters respective to the crow cudnt stand its behaviour.. But it still spread its wings for the hug of friendship.. Now the crow who doesnt know if the cuckoo will accept him or not is on his way to attain peace just with their friendship and remain alone all his life with its sweet and sour memories..
The end..
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 1:46 PM UTC
for Thomas Raine Crowe
...These nights bring dreams of Cherokee shamans
whose names are bright verbs and impacted dark nouns,
whose memories are indictments of my pallid flesh...
and I hear, as from a great distance,
the cries tortured from their guileless lips, proclaiming
the nature of my mutation.
NOTE: My “mutation” is that my family appears to contain English, Scottish, German and Cherokee blood, meaning that my ancestors were probably at war with each other. Did my English ancestors force my Cherokee ancestors to walk the Trail of Tears?
I have recently created these new translations of Native American poems, proverbs and sayings ...
What is life?
The flash of a firefly.
The breath of a winter buffalo.
The shadow scooting across the grass that vanishes with sunset.
—Blackfoot saying, translation by Michael R. Burch
Speak less thunder, wield more lightning. — Apache proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
The more we wonder, the more we understand. — Arapaho proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Adults talk, children whine. — Blackfoot proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Don’t be afraid to cry: it will lessen your sorrow. — Hopi proverb
One foot in the boat, one foot in the canoe, and you end up in the river. — Tuscarora proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Our enemy's weakness increases our strength. — Cherokee proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
We will be remembered tomorrow by the tracks we leave today. — Dakota proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
No sound's as eloquent as a rattlesnake's tail. — Navajo saying, translation by Michael R. Burch
The heart is our first teacher. — Cheyenne proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Dreams beget success. — Maricopa proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Knowledge interprets the past, wisdom foresees the future. — Lumbee proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
The troublemaker's way is thorny. — Umpqua proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
Feb 22, 2020
Feb 22, 2020 at 6:33 AM UTC
A leitmotif of your average smug **** is a proverb here and there.
Spouting them off like the receptor has no care.
Their evidential naivety is blatant and almost impossible to bear.
As an audience member you can do nothing but hide your malevolence and stare.
******* in maxims that are apparently laced with benevolence and care.
You know the kind of oxygen waster I’m referring to.
The type of person that watches BBC 4 and likes tofu.
The kind that does the Financial Times So-fucking-Do-Ku.
Look I’m just saying that clichés annoy me.
I’m not asking you to love me, give me a reach around or employ me.
In fact you don’t even have to enjoy me as I tell you of things that matter not.
Suture yourself hypothetically to a geographically different mind. That mind being mine, oh that maverick-esque mischievous mind of mine, looking at this from my perspective.
In my transcendental endeavours to rid the clichéd ridden world of the afore mentioned adjective.
In the opposite of anachronistic times, we might successfully, surreptitiously rid the world of moral coated rhymes.
We can do this; all it takes is a few. One of which needs to be you.
Break out from being solipsistic, even the blind, the meek, the autistic, those that besmirch the edge of coffee cups with their lipstick.
Yes, I mean you. Here is what to do…
The next time someone spouts off a cliché, punish them, make them listen to an album by “Hearsay.”
If someone says “An Apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Then simply say, Steve Jobs had thousands and the here’s the definite answer, that consumerism inducer still died of cancer.
If a woman says “When I say jump. You say how high!” Don’t even cogitate to pardon her.
If the grass is always greener on the other side – shoot your ******* gardener.
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 8:03 PM UTC
TELL TALE TALK
Shark's tooth
draws blood
( even though long dead )
a startled red
against the sharp whiteness
lost in a bric-a-brac
box of shells & things.
"Gotcha!"
grins the dead
shark's set of
choppers.
Baby shark
but a shark nonetheless.
I drip a trail
of red
across the Charity
shop
snap up
a tattered HUNTING OF THE SNARK
a battered
AT SWIM TWO BIRDS.
Here
a broken ballerina
on a jewellery box
( minus her music )
there
( I stop dead )
a used
soul
bruised
badly used
Godless
without guile
my fingertip traces my initials
on its dust
tarnished
without hope
immortal and unnoticed
amongst shark's teeth & shells.
I get
a SNARK & TWO BIRDS
for a pound
a piece.
The shark's grin
for a pound again.
"What do you want
for this old thing?"
I nonchalantly
ask
setting the soul
with great care
within the cage
of teeth
perched atop
the books.
"Being dying
to get rid
of that
for ages."
"It just sits there
staring at me!"
"Scares the life
outta me
to tell you
the truth
even though I don't know
what the hell it is!"
"Give us 42p for it
& we'll call it quits!"
I buy back
the soul
( my soul )
I had given away
with some old shirts and shoes
things I thought
I wouldn't ever be needing
. . .again.
But seeing it
discarded amongst shark's teeth & shells
I thought
twice about it.
Maybe
( perhaps )
I can use
it
for a paperweight.
Or a doorstop.
Sedulous
PRONUNCIATION:
(SEJ-uh-luhs)
MEANING:
adjective: Involving great care, effort, and persistence.
ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin se (without) + dolus (trickery, guile). Ultimately from the Indo-European root del- (to count or recount) that is also the source of tell, tale, talk, Aug 9, 2010
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
Poetry is the art of saying what you mean but disguising it. -Diane Wakoski, poet (b. 1937) and Dutch taal (speech, language).
USAGE:
"Elizabeth Bishop was sedulous, pernickety, quietly determined; she would work on poems for years."Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell; The Economist (London, UK); Nov 20, 2008.
A THOUGHT FOR TODAY:
<strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><p>A beautiful thing is never perfect. -Egyptian proverb</p></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong>
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 4:25 PM UTC