Quotes about drop, page 5
Take Me To The River
I dont know why I love her like I do
All the changes you put me through
Take my money, my cigarettes
I havent seen the worst of it yet
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Take me to the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me down
I dont know why you treat me so bad
Think of all the things we could have had
Love is an ocean that I cant forget
My sweet sixteen I would never regret
I wanna know that youll tell me
I love to stay
Take me to the river, drop me in the water
Push me in the river, dip me in the water
Washing me down, washing me
Hug me, squeeze me, love me, tease me
Till I cant, till I cant, till I cant take no more of it
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song performed by Talking Heads
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Favorite Things
Buy me diamonds and rubies
I'm crazy 'bout bentleys
Gucci dresses and drop top compresses
Wine me and dine me
Bring those platinum rings
Those are a few of our favourite things
Buy me diamonds and rubies
I'm crazy bout bentleys
Gucci dresses and drop top compresses
Wine me and dine me
Bring those platinum rings
Those are a few of our favourite things
What i need is a gentleman
Who does the best he can
There to hold my hand
I want you to understand
Of course i want diamonds and expensive things
Cause a girl's gotta have her favourite things
Oh, that's what you like nice type of life
Platinum at night flat diamond light
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song performed by Outkast
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Tower
SAILING TO BYZANTIUM
I
THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
-- Those dying generations -- at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
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poem by William Butler Yeats
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Fifth Book
AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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12: 13
the last drop,
the tongue crawls and licks
the reddish mound
living its life to the
last drop, deliciously
taking in
what this beating life
has to offer, this last drop
still the best,
in sleep still dream
the last drop, the last
of the moaning drop,
an ode to
the delicious offering
of the pink mound,
glistening dew
this rose of a woman.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Viva Mas
Drop Bars not Bombs
Make Chai not War
Baseball not Bombs
Books not Bombs
Make Love not War
Drop Tuition Not Bombs
Blondes not Bombs
Beats not Bombs
Drop Class not Bombs
Make Art not War
Flowers not Bombs
Food not Bombs
Make Levees not War
Drop Seeds not Bombs
Bread not Bombs
Beauty not Bombs
Drop Television not Bombs
Make Solidarity not War
Build Trust not Bombs
Bring back Food
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poem by Jerome Moore
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To Change A Mood Or Two
I never stood with wishes to leap into a loop.
Or be...
Those People,
Peeped deep...
To critique!
I never stood with wishes to leap into a loop.
Or be...
Those people,
Critiqued...
With a peeping done deep!
I have my own need to lay down a pop to drop.
And rock.
Nonstop!
I have my own need to lay down a pop to drop.
And rock.
Nonstop!
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tale Of A Tear Drop
A single Tear Drop-
Ovular formed,
Dangling on the tips,
Of a fluttering eyelash.
Suspended for a moment,
'Til impulse incepts;
'Twas a mere, subtle blink...
Yet, the Tear Drop falls;
And it travels so fast,
Like White-Water Rafting,
To ''Dueling Banjo's''.....
Riding o'er the cheekbone,
Of a shifting caps,
And in a moments flash
Its pace picks up course
A wince slows it 's speed;
But once o'er the cheekbone,
The sleighride doth begin,
Like th' one they called Nantucket;
But With human gust behind it;
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poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
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Your Patience Is Needed To Feed It
Don't do it to stop...
No!
Don't do it to drop...
No!
Just you know that...
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Your patience is needed to feed it.
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Don't leave it to disbelieve.
You must keep your faith to receive,
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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