Quotes about latch, page 10
The Global Ant-corruption Wave
'Tis nice to see all realize the truth
That corruption has scaled too dizzy heights,
And that ‘a nail for nail and tooth for tooth
Policy' can best improve people's plights!
But catching just the smallest fish isn't right!
The bigger fish then tend to grow in size!
The biggest ones escape clearly off sight;
Mere nets and harpoons may never suffice!
The sea has dangers for fishing vessels!
The anti-corruption ship must be big;
In deep waters, you delve for biggest shells;
To get more oil, you farther down must dig!
The smaller fish are many, not harmful;
The biggest ones can prove too tough to catch;
Driving them off to deep seas is useful!
No innocent must be behind the latch!
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poem by John Celes
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Fernandez; Hispanic tutor for Mathematics
He's a part-time teacher for Mathematics.
But I go there to learn Spanish.
He resembles the former Chilean Ruler Augusto Pinochet
But very kind.
We started the Spanish abesedario. (alphabet)
'A for Amor,
That means love
Very common isn't it? '
He introduced me Maria Luisa.
'We are living together
And she's from Peru.'
She came towards us wearing a see through gown.
She looks like the lady in one of Paul Gauguin's prominent paintings.
I had two tumbler gulps of Tequila and my head spins.
Master sniffed and said; 'Postponed the classes and we do some other day.'
He wants me to write something special of love in his notebook
And offered me a Mascara pencil.
I wrote few lines.
'When the handsome poverty peeps through your shattered window
Beautiful love flees from the back latch door.'
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Yes
Yes it is this word that has its glory,
The power saturated in it has infinite story,
Yes means to pull out, it means to drag;
It is a genuine force,
To enforce unleashed facts,
Yes just spell it and feel the charm full delight,
That yes is so powerful to anticipate the latch,
The once when you hear it, it is a great act,
Your tact is aroused at once,
Mark this great fact….
No is not the word you will find in your good act,
It is always said by those who never greet such act,
Yes listen to such you should know their facts,
Yes always listen to yes that is the greatest act,
Wisdom lies in those who dare to act,
Not as person nor as man,
Listen to your within,
Yes there lies the power,
Be a True Human,
Then yes would be surrounder,
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poem by Jinneth Rose
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Cold Feet and Other Objects.....
Huddled within a blanket
In a camping chair
Thats not quite right
Blinds down to shade the sleeping
Concerned over my failing sight
Gazing with disgust that HE over there
Stole my bloody bed!
Nose dripping with the draught dear
Which dances around my head
Feet as cold a kippers
Swaddled to avoid the floor
Laminates quite nice dear!
But bloody cold slips beneath the door
I'll brave china tiles for a tea dear
Exiting the blankets charm
Goosebumps, goose stepping
Rubbing my chilly arms
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poem by Karen Sinclair
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A Florida Night
Win' a-blowin' gentle so de san' lay low,
San' a little heavy f'om de rain,
All de pa'ms a-wavin' an' a-weavin' slow,
Sighin' lak a sinnah-soul in pain.
Alligator grinnin' by de ol' lagoon,
Mockin'-bird a-singin' to be big full moon.
'Skeeter go a-skimmin' to his fightin' chune
(Lizy Ann's a-waitin' in de lane!).
Moccasin a-sleepin' in de cyprus swamp;
Need n't wake de gent'man, not fu' me.
Mule, you need n't wake him w'en you switch an' stomp,
Fightin' off a 'skeeter er a flea.
Florida is lovely, she's de fines' lan'
Evah seed de sunlight f'om de Mastah's han',
'Ceptin' fu' de varmints an' huh fleas an' san'
An' de nights w'en Lizy Ann ain' free.
Moon 's a-kinder shaddered on de melon patch;
No one ain't a-watchin' ez I go.
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poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Personal 'Affairs'!
You are right!
I don't know how much,
You are feeling your pain.
But you do talk about it...
As if you have a relationship.
With an obligation you fear,
If you divorced from it,
It would surely be missed.
And like all marriages that don't work out...
You are hanging onto this one,
As if it makes you proud...
To bear this anguish,
In private and in a crowd.
You are right!
I don't know how much,
You are feeling your pain.
Or what you are going through...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Midnight Song I (A Sonnet)
Hither dawns dusk and in my heart a song asks to be sung
How I curl up and shudder at her lyrics so terrible!
A song fills the emptiness in my heart and leaves wandering in my thoughts an unanswered riddle
A forceful ballad forces my eyes open and compels my soul to sing
The eternal song of wanton love and unconsummated passion
A resolute chant that seeks at midday to possess maidens by their dangling pearls or their supple curves
A persistent oratorio of feigned love and adventurous caress their demanding breasts serve
The raging tempest draws her into my world of fantasy
A luring invitation to abandon reason and latch on to feverish ecstasy
She runs from the clutches of the frigid winds to embrace the virility of the fireplace
The heavens serenade us with sweet song and marvellous melodies
When the flames of two fires lick each other to rage in unison
We awaken in our hearts infernos of passion long abandoned
Our spirits seek new adventure when we are left contented and begging for yet another midnight song
poem by Rafael Yaw Kumi
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Elmer Brown
Awf'lest boy in this-here town
Er anywheres is Elmer Brown!
He'll mock you--yes, an' strangers, too,
An' make a face an' yell at you,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
Yes, an' wunst in School one day,
An' Teacher's lookin' wite that way,
He helt his slate, an' hide his head,
An' maked a face at _her_, an' said,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
An' sir! when Rosie Wheeler smile
One morning at him 'crosst the aisle,
He twist his face all up, an' black
His nose wiv ink, an' whisper back,--
'_Here's_ the way _you_ look!'
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Manor Farm
THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills
Ran and sparkled down each side of the road
Under the catkins wagging in the hedge.
But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun;
Nor did I value that thin gliding beam
More than a pretty February thing
Till I came down to the old manor farm,
And church and yew-tree opposite, in age
Its equals and in size. The church and yew
And farmhouse slept in a Sunday silentness.
The air raised not a straw. The steep farm roof,
With tiles duskily glowing, entertained
The mid-day sun; and up and down the roof
White pigeons nestled. There was no sound but one.
Three cart horses were looking over a gate
Drowsily through their forelocks, swishing their tails
Against a fly, a solitary fly.
The winter's cheek flushed as if he had drained
Spring, summer, and autumn at a draught
And smiled quietly. But 'twas not winter--
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poem by Edward Thomas
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When The Welsh Of Wales Go Home
There’s a distant drift of tides
That pitch at your troubled stare
And songs of a deep Welsh valley
Howl out from your wild, grey hair;
Then you sit, bright-eyed at the moonlight,
And you cry, bright-eyed at dawn,
There is no rest for the weary
When the Welsh of Wales go home.
You ride that distant country
While your eyes are mad with grief,
And you search for the things you lost there
Or you search for a long dead thief;
I speak, but get no answer
I question, cajole, implore,
You nod with an ancient wisdom,
And wake at a cottage door.
You knock, but find it empty
The thatch lies thick on the floor,
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poem by David Lewis Paget
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