Being a decathlete is like having ten girlfriends. You have to love them all, and you can't afford losing one.
quote by Daley Thompson
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Related quotes
Synergy of Love
'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.
'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.
'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.
Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.
And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.
So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!
But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Silver
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Orlando Furioso Canto 20
ARGUMENT
Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,
While all Astolpho chases with his horn,
Who to all quarters of the town sets fire,
Then roving singly round the world is borne.
Marphisa, for Gabrina's cause, in ire
Puts upon young Zerbino scathe and scorn,
And makes him guardian of Gabrina fell,
From whom he first learns news of Isabel.
I
Great fears the women of antiquity
In arms and hallowed arts as well have done,
And of their worthy works the memory
And lustre through this ample world has shone.
Praised is Camilla, with Harpalice,
For the fair course which they in battle run.
Corinna and Sappho, famous for their lore,
Shine two illustrious light, to set no more.
II
Women have reached the pinnacle of glory,
In every art by them professed, well seen;
And whosoever turns the leaf of story,
Finds record of them, neither dim nor mean.
The evil influence will be transitory,
If long deprived of such the world had been;
And envious men, and those that never knew
Their worth, have haply hid their honours due.
III
To me it plainly seems, in this our age
Of women such is the celebrity,
That it may furnish matter to the page,
Whence this dispersed to future years shall be;
And you, ye evil tongues which foully rage,
Be tied to your eternal infamy,
And women's praises so resplendent show,
They shall, by much, Marphisa's worth outgo.
IV
To her returning yet again; the dame
To him who showed to her such courteous lore,
Refused not to disclose her martial name,
Since he agreed to tell the style be bore.
She quickly satisfied the warrior's claim;
To learn his title she desired so sore.
'I am Marphisa,' the virago cried:
All else was known, as bruited far and wide.
[...] Read more
poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Her...
I can never get my mind off her,
I wonder if she'd mind if i'd,
make her my own,
and never let her go,
hug her tight,
treat her right,
act all polite,
take her on a date,
make sure i'm never late,
kiss her on her lips,
talk about our kids,
Make her feel like princess,
living in a castle,
hope that is not too much hassle,
But i am so blessed,
hope i can be the best,
hold you tight,
have your BR3A$t,
on my chest,
pass the test,
NOW YOUR MINE!
sorry for word spamming: (
love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love
poem by Jordan Moore
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Cant Stand Losing You
Ive called you so many times today
And I guess its all true what your girlfriends say
That you dont ever want to see me again
And your brothers going to kill me and hes six feet ten
I guess youd call it cowardice
But Im not prepared to go on like this
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I cant stand losing you
I see youve sent my letters back
And my lp records and theyre all scratched
I cant see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say
You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesnt make no sense
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I guess this is our last goodbye
And you dont care, so I wont cry
But youll be sorry when Im dead
And all this guilt will be on your head
I guess youd call it suicide
But Im too full to swallow my pride
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing
I cant, I cant, I cant stand losing...
song performed by Police
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Girlfriends Girlfriend
(j.spinks)
She was my girlfriends girlfriend (yeah)
I woke up in someones bed
I couldnt remember what happened last night
I heard a voice then someone said
Roll over baby dont be wasting my time
La la la la la la la la
I prayed for someone Id recognize
La la la la la la la la
I didnt know that I was in for one great big surprise
She was my girlfriends girlfriend yeah
She was my girlfriends girl
I turned around unsure
She looked so good you could have picked me off the floor
This is cool this is it
I feel so bad I cant remember what we did
La la la la la la la la
She said boy youd better open your eyes?
La la la la la la la la
In walked my girlfriend she jumped on the other side
She was my girlfriends girlfriend yeah
She was my girlfriends girl
La la la la la la la la
She said boy youd better open your eyes
La la la la la la la la
In walked my girlfriend she jumped on the other side
She was my girlfriends girlfriend yeah
She was my girlfriends girl
She was my girlfriends girlfriend yeah
She was my girlfriends girl
(repeat chorus)
song performed by Outfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Blow of Love
Love! you dealt a bitter blow –
You lay me cross the mortal plains,
Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
To weep at my enduring foe
Of harsh reality – searing pains of
Destiny: dependable propensity
To fool myself repeatedly
That I could ever triumph over love!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Cant Afford To Do It
Written by james williamson.
Well, I wanna go out without tearing my bed, now
Ise so scared my baby quit n
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
And loose that girl of mine
Well she spend my money - buying me clothes
Shes done cheapest woman I ever did know n
So, I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
And loose that girl of mine
Yeah
Break:
I got a good friend from alabam
He tried to steal my chick I dont know how many time
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it, ah
I cant afford to do it
And loose that girl of mine, ah
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
I cant afford to do it
And loose that girl of mine, um
song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ten Minutes Aint Enough
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.
And not drifting.
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To have my needs satisfactorily pleased.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
Some may wish a quick...
Beginning that swiftly ends.
With nothing to explore.
But an exit out a door!
Ten minutes aint enough,
No!
To know what I want before it leaves.
Ten minutes aint enough.
Ten minutes aint enough!
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With a chat that sits.
There has to be a bit of teased acquaintance.
With eyes that are fixed.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Booker Washington Trilogy
I. A NEGRO SERMON:—SIMON LEGREE
(To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.)
Legree's big house was white and green.
His cotton-fields were the best to be seen.
He had strong horses and opulent cattle,
And bloodhounds bold, with chains that would rattle.
His garret was full of curious things:
Books of magic, bags of gold,
And rabbits' feet on long twine strings.
But he went down to the Devil.
Legree he sported a brass-buttoned coat,
A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.
Legree he had a beard like a goat,
And a thick hairy neck, and eyes like dirt.
His puffed-out cheeks were fish-belly white,
He had great long teeth, and an appetite.
He ate raw meat, 'most every meal,
And rolled his eyes till the cat would squeal.
His fist was an enormous size
To mash poor niggers that told him lies:
He was surely a witch-man in disguise.
But he went down to the Devil.
He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day
To capture his slaves that had fled away.
But he went down to the Devil.
He beat poor Uncle Tom to death
Who prayed for Legree with his last breath.
Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew,
To the high sanctoriums bright and new;
And Simon Legree stared up beneath,
And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth:
And went down to the Devil.
He crossed the yard in the storm and gloom;
He went into his grand front room.
He said, "I killed him, and I don't care."
He kicked a hound, he gave a swear;
He tightened his belt, he took a lamp,
Went down cellar to the webs and damp.
There in the middle of the mouldy floor
He heaved up a slab, he found a door —
And went down to the Devil.
[...] Read more
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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King Solomon And The Queen Of Sheba
(A Poem Game.)
“And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon, . . .
she came to prove him with hard questions.”
[The men’s leader rises as he sees the Queen unveiling
and approaching a position that gives her half of the stage.]
Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sheba came to see King Solomon.
[He bows three times.]
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon.
[She bows three times.]
Women’s Leader: I was the Queen,
I was the Queen,
I was the Queen.
Both Leaders: We will be king and queen,
[They stand together stretching their hands over the land.]
Reigning on mountains green,
Happy and free
For ten thousand years.
[They stagger forward as though carrying a yoke together.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred oxen.
Congregation: We were the oxen.
[Here King and Queen pause at the footlights.]
Both Leaders: You shall feel goads no more.
[They walk backward, throwing off the yoke and rejoicing.]
Walk dreadful roads no more,
Free from your loads
For ten thousand years.
[The men’s leader goes forward, the women’s leader dances round him.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred sweethearts.
[Here he pauses at the footlights.]
Congregation: We were the sweethearts.
[He walks backward. Both clap their hands to the measure.]
Both Leaders: You shall dance round again,
You shall dance round again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
[The Queen appears to gather wildflowers.]
[...] Read more
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Can't Stand Losing You
I've called you so many times today
And I guess it's all true what your girl-friends say
That you don't ever want to see me again
And your brother's gonna kill me and he's six feet ten
I guess you'd call it cowardice
But I'm not prepared to go on like this
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I can't stand losing you
I see you sent my letters back
And my L.P. records and they're all scratched
I can't see the point in another day
When nobody listens to a word I say
You can call it lack of confidence
But to carry on living doesn't make no sense
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't stand losing you
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don't care, so I won't cry
But you'll be sorry when I'm dead
And all this guilt will be on your head
I guess you'd call it suicide
But I'm too full to swallow my pride
I can't, I can't, I can't stand losing
I can't, I can't...
song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Blues Is a Losing Gain
Blues is a losing game to find one happy.
Blues is a losing gain to find the same people sane.
And...
Blues is a losing game,
To find one happy.
And blues is a losing gain...
To find the same people sane.
You nestle dreams,
To find them in delusion.
But you have no faith inside,
To get and go...
To leave.
Flee away from that concrete molding.
Blues is a losing game to find one happy.
Blues is a losing gain to find the same people sane
And...
Blues is a losing game,
To find one happy.
And blues is a losing gain...
To find the same people sane.
Your dreams are nestled inside...
Delusion.
And you still find holding on,
To your truth that has gone...
To delusions held onto.
Your dreams are nestled inside...
Delusion.
And you still find holding on,
To your truth that has gone,
To delusions held onto.
And,
Blues is a losing game.
And,
Blues is a losing game.
And,
Blues is a losing game.
To find one happy.
And blues is a losing gain...
To find the same people sane.
Blues is a losing gain...
To find the same people sane.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Victories Of Love. Book II
I
From Jane To Her Mother
Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,
[...] Read more
poem by Coventry Patmore
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Baby Im Losing You
Evry time we kiss I feel that somethings missing inside
Evry little glow for me has simply died
What has happened to the love
Happened to the love , the love we knew
Baby Im losing you (losing you), baby Im losing you
Even in my sleep I feel the heartache creep in my dream
All the love you had for me is gone it seems
Oh what have you done to me
Made it plain to see that we are through
Baby Im losing you (losing you),baby Im losing you
I hate to say goodbye to you
But darling what am I to do
Just a toy to play , when you are through , you throw away
Not me
If you dont need me now Ill get along somehow in my pain
Wish little boy, go find another toy for your games
And whats happening to me , Ill get by you see
Now we are through
Baby Im losing you (losing you), baby Im losing you
Baby Im losing you (losing you , baby Im losing you
song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
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White Trash Wedding
You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring
You finally took my hand
You finally took my hand
It took a nip of gin
But you finally
took my hand
You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring
Mama don't approve
Mama don't approve
Daddy says he's the best in town
And mama don't approve
You can't afford no ring
You can't afford no ring
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring
Baby's on its way
Baby's on its way
Say I do and kiss me quick
'Cause baby's on its way
I shouldn't be wearing white and you can't afford no ring
song performed by Dixie Chicks from Home
Added by Lucian Velea
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Im Not Loosing Sleep
Yes, Ive read the morning papers
Telling me that youve made money
Do you think Im gonna crawl, then think again
Though Im dressed in rags, Im richer
Though I eat from tins, Im healthier
Though I live in slums, Im purer than you, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Dont look down your nose at me
cause I wont ask your sympathy
I wont be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that youre wearing on the ground
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
I cant get my satisfaction
Knowing you wont get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
Its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, its too bad, Im not losing sleep
[too bad] Im just counting sheep
[too bad] Im not losing sleep, my friend
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'm Not Losing Sleep
Yes, I've read the morning papers
Telling me that you've made money
Do you think I'm gonna crawl, then think again
Though I'm dressed in rags, I'm richer
Though I eat from tins, I'm healthier
Though I live in slums, I'm purer than you, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Look around and see the friends
The ones you left, our friends deserted
See the guys that used to talk and drink with you
Don't look down your nose at me
'Cause I won't ask your sympathy
I won't be your yes-sir man for anything
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I would walk with you
Talk with you, drink with you
If you drop that halo that you're wearing on the ground
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
I can't get my satisfaction
Knowing you won't get reaction
What makes me the big attraction anyway
It's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
Oh, it's too bad, I'm not losing sleep
[Too bad] I'm just counting sheep
[Too bad] I'm not losing sleep, my friend
song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday at Hampstead
I
(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL BY A VERY HUMBLE MEMBER OF THE GREAT AND NOBLE LONDON MOB.)
This is the Heath of Hampstead,
This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s;
Beneath, on the serried house-tops,
A chequered luster falls:
And the might city of London,
Under the clouds and the light,
Seems a low, wet beach, half shingle,
With a few sharp rocks upright.
Here we sit, my darling,
And dream an hour away:
The donkeys are hurried and worried,
But we are not donkeys to-day:
Through all the weary week, dear,
We toil in the murk down there,
Tied to a desk and a counter,
A patient, stupid pair!
But on Sunday we slip our thether,
And away from the smoke and the smirch;
Too grateful to God for His Sabbath
To shut its hours in a church.
Away to the green, green country,
Under the open sky;
Where the earth’s sweet breath is incense
And the lark sings psalms on high.
On Sunday we’re Lord and Lady,
With ten times the love and glee
Of those pale, languid rich ones
Who are always and never free.
The drawl and stare and simper,
So fine and cold and staid,
Like exquisite waxwork figures
That must be kept in the shade.
We can laugh out loud when merry,
We can romp at kiss-in-the-ring,
We can take our beer at a public,
We can loll on the grass and sing.
Would you grieve very much, my darling,
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
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