Quotes about girth, page 3
The Huxter
He has a hump like an ape on his back;
He has of money a plentiful lack;
And but for a gay coat of double his girth
There is not a plainer thing on the earth
This fine May morning.
But the huxter has a bottle of beer;
He drives a cart and his wife sits near
Who does not heed his lack or his hump;
And they laugh as down the lane they bump
This fine May morning.
poem by Edward Thomas
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A final house stands at this hamlet's site (In diesem Dorfe steht das letzte Haus)
A final house stands at this hamlet's site,
as lonesome as the final house on earth.
The road, unhindered by the hamlet's girth
keeps walking slowly out into the night.
The hamlet is but a transition side
of two expanses, anxious, terrified;
its walk along the houses mere relay.
And those that leave the hamlet wander wide
and many die perhaps along the way.
poem by Rainer Maria Rilke (19 September 1901), translated by Walter Aue
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The Call Of Winter Weather!
The night, sobbed
Her heart-out - near fully,
That is why the day arises happy.
Joyous as a song bird full of mirth
But see how the black bird is nesting
In some dark shadows girth.
Gazing through - yellow ringed eyes
Her eye - is like the center
Of a yew tree berry:
It speaks of a defining, terror…
When autumn fruits are falling…
The call of winter weather!
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Malthusian - Acrostic
Man man must conquer, trust that Time
At last last laugh will have, fast see
Life – Mr.’s Mrs.’ Ms...tery –
Turn to worm, return not: - crime?
Here hear a moral dressed in rhyme:
Unless we learn, earn modesty,
Some sum of all we’ve come to be
In bed-rock locked will, stocked in rime,
Await a race who race with light
Near Earth’s girth, - berth? – they won’t alight!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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What Extraordinary Circumstance Brought Me? (Enclosed Triplet)
What type of circumstance brought me
in my own birth
to a planet that is not of death free,
to a world that constantly is in decay
here to this earth
where but a single sun brightens the day;
I could have served at the feet of God,
in joy, in mirth;
where I now in destruction’s footsteps trod?
I ask these questions in true sincerity
when hope I girth,
what type of circumstance brought me?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Too Much Concrete
Too much concrete
is weighing down the Earth-
Gaia feels the weight on her girth.
Tons of cars, houses, sidewalks
and buildings of cement-
luckily we have gravity
to keep from being bent.
Native Americans used a tent-
others lived in in mountains
they were close to nature
and natural water fountains.
Send Gaia alot of lot love
everyday-
walk on her barefoot
and become close to her again.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Aril 14,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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I'm On A Diet
Oh body what have you done
I always fed you
Washed you
What is the meaning of this
You wanted fish and chips
You wanted pies
KFC McDonalds you got it
How could you do it to me
I gave up smoking for you
Bought bigger clothes
Worked out at the gym
You just ignored me
You grew hair on my back
My girth causes mirth
All saggy and fat
Now see what you get
[...] Read more
poem by Phil Smith
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Death And Birth
Death and birth should dwell not near together:
Wealth keeps house not, even for shame, with dearth:
Fate doth ill to link in one brief tether
Death and birth.
Harsh the yoke that binds them, strange the girth
Seems that girds them each with each: yet whether
Death be best, who knows, or life on earth?
Ill the rose-red and the sable feather
Blend in one crown's plume, as grief with mirth:
Ill met still are warm and wintry weather,
Death and birth.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Soldier: Twentieth Century
I love you, great new Titan!
Am I not you?
Napoleon or Caesar
Out of you grew.
Out of the unthinkable torture,
Eyes kissed by death,
Won back to the world again,
Lost and won in a breath,
Cruel men are made immortal,
Out of your pain born.
They have stolen the sun’s power
With their feet on your shoulders worn.
Let them shrink from your girth,
That has outgrown the pallid days,
When you slept like Circe’s swine,
Or a word in the brain’s way.
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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My Fulfillment
Oh to have my arms enfold
all that I hold dear
would laden them with unlimited girth
and all would overhear
complaints spill from my mouth
and groans from arms that ache.
But what they could never understand
is my heart could never break.
Oh to have my eyes envision
everything I love
would fill them with unlimited sight
and all would wonder of
what it is that they can't see
that creates my inner keel.
And what they could never understand
is how seeing makes me feel.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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