Quotes about bruised, page 7
The best remedy for a bruised heart is not, as so many people seem to think, repose upon a manly bosom. Much more efficacious are honest work, physical activity, and sudden acquisition of wealth.
quote by Dorothy Sayers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blue Collar Hero
old gnarled bruised hand,
can either close in a fist,
or open and reach out...
either way, you'll know!
he aint selling nothing!
too tired for anything less,
or anything more than...
the truth!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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At first I threw my weight upon my heels, as one does naturally in a boot, and was a good deal bruised, but after a few hours I learned the natural walk of man, and could follow my guide in any portion of the island.
quote by John Millington Synge
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There is certain relief in change, even though it be from bad to worse! As I have often found in traveling in a stagecoach, that it is often a comfort to shift one's position, and be bruised in a new place.
quote by Washington Irving
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How long?
How long
may a heart stay bruised
before it starts to bruise
itself?
How long
may a heart stay vulnerable
before it grows a strength?
How long
must a heart wait
for another love?
How long
it seems
How long?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Home Ominous Flight
come walk we two
across flame red sky
two birds soar flying
silent solitary shadows
would clip our wings
in home ominous flight
blood red flame sunsets
bathe glorious horizons
bruised epic bleed rivers
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Soweto
Soweto,
'So-we-too'! !
And there came massacre before the end of Apartheid;
But a bruised reed i will not break and,
The smoking flax i will not quench!
And like a mighty man of war,
But peace is needed everywhere on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Utopia? (As One)
utopia?
non-sterile,
sweaty, cumstained,
bloody, grimy, bruised...
human bodies
hugging each other,
digging together,
as one, as many...
diverse, unique, tied
to the one...
with their gods
holding lanterns,
and carrying water!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Love, a good conductor
Your tone over phone, neither feminine nor masculine,
Once in a week or so, nervous, and with hidden passion,
Nevertheless, resonates to my senses in repetition
Like a bruised gramophone record, you in my vision.
25.11.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Victorious (Death)
the small bird
banged against its cage
for years;
flapping its wings,
trying to get out.
then finally one morning,
the door was left open!
the bird emerged,
battered and bruised,
but victorious....
and flew away
into the limitless sky.
poem by Eric Cockrell
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