The oldest pitcher acquires confidence in his ballclub - he doesn't try to do it all himself.
quote by Burleigh Grimes
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02-04-2012 Brother I give you my answer for Black People African Sahara it mesmerizes the wise largest desert it is asked of we What is Africa is to me 3.3 million miles of grea
Brother I give you my answer
for Black People
African Sahara
it mesmerizes the wise
largest desert
it is asked of we
What is Africa is to me
3.3 million miles
of great desert
once a forest
once a great sea
once an empty hole
in space just waiting
to be that it can
birth the blackness
of who my mothers be
3.3 millions
you can not see it all
Trans Saharan trade
is but a child
weather selling slaves
or selling salt
and always
brought and sold
the black man's art, gold
the paintings
was still for the walls
to surround us
a representation of the thing
that be, the God that
rose Africa from the sea
man got his
walking feet
on Africa's soil
Africa Moors
salt caravans
Africa the salt
of the land
what more did Africa
give to man
gold first mimed
found its glow
in the hands of
a black child
oldest gold jewelry
in Queen Zer's tomb
being as old as this
there is nothing
that we can not do
[...] Read more
poem by David E. Patton
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Confidence
(words & music by tepper - bennett)
When everyone thought the world was flat
Columbus said its round
He went down in history
And america was found
cause
He had confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
With a c and an o and an n and an f
And an I and a d and an ence
Put em all together and what have you got
Confidence
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
Remember the tortoise and the hare
Who had that famous race
The speedy hare wound up nowhere
And slow poke took first place
cause
He had confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
How do you know that you cant ride a rainbow in the sky
Youll be surprised what you can do
If you will only try
All you need is confidence
A little thing called confidence
Theres no job too immense when youve got
Confidence
With a c and an o and an n and an f
And an I and a d and an ence
Put em all together and what have you got
Confidence
Confi ..... confi .... confidence
song performed by Elvis Presley
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Tannhauser
The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.
[...] Read more
poem by Emma Lazarus
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The Oldest Thing In London
A thousand landmarks perish,
A hundred streets grow strange;
With all the dreams they cherish
They go the ways of change;
But, whatso towers may tumble,
And whatso bridges fall,
And whatso statues crumble
Of folk both great and small,
The Oldest Thing in London he changes not at all.
The shoutings of the foeman,
The groanings of the slain,
The galley of the Roman,
The longship of the Dane,
The warring of the nations,
The judgment of the Lord
On heedless generations
In plague and fire and sword,
The Oldest Thing in London has known them and endured.
When London wall was builded
And London stone was new,
When first Paul's spire rose gilded
And gleaming in the blue,
Ere Holbein yet was christened,
When no one dreamed of Wren,
And clear the Ty-bourne glistened
And the Fleet was seen of men
The Oldest Thing in London was not much younger then.
New Londons rise like bubbles,
Like bubbles break and pass,
Or some dark dream that troubles
A wizard's magic glass;
A little while they hustle
And glitter in the sun,
And feast and fret and bustle
And chaffer, and have done -
The Oldest Thing in London he sees them every one.
No stones so strong to weather
Sun's heat or winter's blast
But time and man together
May tear them down at last;
The toughest rafters moulder,
The stoutest beams decay,
But he seems little older
From day to changing day -
The Oldest Thing in London that passes not away.
[...] Read more
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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The Original Wrapper
I was sittin home on the west end
Watchin cable tv with a female friend
We were watchin the news, the worlds in a mess
The poor and the hungry, a world in distress
Herpes, aids, the middle east at full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you put it in the waffle
And while youre at it, check whats in the batter
Make sure that candys in the original wrapper
Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candys in the original wrapper
Reagan says abortions murder
While hes looking at cardinal oconnor
Look at jerry falwell louis farrakhan
Both talk religion and the brotherhood of man
They both sound like they belong in teheran
Watch out, theyre goin full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you stick it in the waffle
And while youre at it better check, whats in the batter
Make sure that candys in the original wrapper
Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candys in the original wrapper
White against white, black against jew
It seems like its 1942
The baby sits in front of mtv
Watching violent fantasies
While dad guzzles beer with his favorite sport
Only to find his heroes are all coked up
Classic, original, the same old story
The politics of hate in a new surrounding
Hate if its good and hate if its bad
And if this all dont make you mad
Ill keep yours and Ill keep mine
Nothing sacred and nothing divine
Father, bless me, were at full throttle
Better check that sausage, before you put it in the waffle
And while youre at it better check that batter
Make sure the candys in the original wrapper
Hey, pitcher, better check that batter
Make sure that candys in the original wrapper, hey, hey
I was born in the united states
And I grew up hard but I grew up straight
I saw a lack of morals and a lack of concern
A feeling that theres nowhere to turn
Yippies, hippies and upwardly mobile yuppies
Dont treat me like Im some dumb lackey
cause the murderer lives while the victims die
Id much rather see it an eye for an eye
A heart for a heart, a brain for a brain
And if this all makes you feel a little insane
Kick up your heels, turn the music up loud
[...] Read more
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Thirsty Crow
Have you ever heard this story before?
Of a wise and clever thirsty crow?
Well, if you haven't then listen
The famous tale of this hero, now let's begin,
It happened when in a spell of dry weather,
The poor birds could find very little water,
This crow, when he felt thirsty,
Searched for some water desperately,
But in summer, as it was great famine,
Even a dropp of water he couldn't find,
This unfortunate fellow thought that he must,
In despair surely die of thirst,
Then suddenly he spied an old pitcher,
Filled with very little water,
But oh! The pitcher was so high with a narrow neck,
The little water, the poor crow could never get,
He was unlucky, thought the crow,
His beak couldn't reach the water as it was low,
Then suddenly a brilliant idea flashed into his mind,
Around him some pebbles he could find,
He picked some pebbles and threw into the pitcher,
And finally the water raised its level,
This clever fellow then threw more pebbles
Until the water was higher in the pitcher,
Higher enough for his beak to reach the water,
The thirsty crow now took a sip of water,
Then drank more water from the pitcher,
Until he was no more thirsty,
The genius crow then flew away,
To tell the world about his victory!
poem by Sadia Maqsood
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Remember Struggles From The Bottom
Pick up those feet and leap!
Believe you can conquer,
Over obstacles to defeat.
With a beating done to erase and cease.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Pick up those feet and leap!
Believe you can conquer,
Over obstacles to defeat.
With a beating done to erase and cease.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
And
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Know what was done to keep your dreams focused.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
Know what was done to step away from it.
Never settle for the minimum.
And,
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Resist to have your confidence dismissed.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
With a boosted confidence.
Remember struggles from the bottom.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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If the pitcher knocks against a stone, woe to the pitcher; and if the stone knocks against the pitcher, woe to the pitcher.
Spanish proverbs
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Hermann And Dorothea - VII. Erato
DOROTHEA.
As the man on a journey, who, just at the moment of sunset,
Fixes his gaze once more on the rapidly vanishing planet,
Then on the side of the rocks and in the dark thicket still sees he
Hov'ring its image; wherever he turns his looks, on in front still
Runs it, and glitters and wavers before him in colours all splendid,
So before Hermanns eyes did the beautiful form of the maiden
Softly move, and appear'd to follow the path through the cornfields.
But he roused himself up from his startling dream, and then slowly
Turn'd tow'rd the village his steps, and once more started,--for once more
Saw he the noble maiden's stately figure approaching.
Fixedly gazed he; it was no phantom in truth; she herself 'twas
In her hands by the handle she carried two pitchers,--one larger,
One of a smaller size, and nimbly walk'd to the fountain.
And he joyfully went to meet her; the sight of her gave him
Courage and strength, and so he address'd the surprised one as follows:--
'Do I find you again, brave maiden, engaged in assisting
Others so soon, and in giving refreshment to those who may need it?
Tell me why you have come all alone to the spring so far distant,
Whilst the rest are content with the water that's found in the village?
This one, indeed, special virtue possesses, and pleasant to drink is.
Is't for the sake of that sick one you come, whom you saved with such courage?'
Then the good maiden the youth in friendly fashion saluted,
Saying:--'Already my walk to the fountain is fully rewarded,
Since I have found the kind person who gave us so many good presents;
For the sight of a giver, like that of a gift, is refreshing.
Come and see for yourself the persons who tasted your kindness,
And receive the tranquil thanks of all you have aided.
But that you may know the reason why I have come here,
Water to draw at a spot where the spring is both pure and unceasing,
I must inform you that thoughtless men have disturb'd all the water
Found in the village, by carelessly letting the horses and oxen
Wade about in the spring which give the inhabitants water.
In the same manner, with all their washing and cleaning they've dirtied
All the troughs of the village, and all the fountains have sullied.
For each one of them only thinks how quickly and soon he
May supply his own wants, and cares not for those who come after.'
Thus she spoke, and soon she arrived at the foot of the broad steps
With her companion, and both of them sat themselves down on the low wall
Round the spring. She bent herself over, to draw out the water,
He the other pitcher took up, and bent himself over,
And in the blue of the heavens they saw their figures reflected,
Waving, and nodding, and in the mirror their greetings exchanging.
'Now let me drink,' exclaim'd the youth in accents of gladness.
And she gave him the pitcher. They then, like old friends, sat together,
Leaning against the vessels, when she address'd him as follows
[...] Read more
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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It would be a dangerous delusion were a confidence in the men of our choice to silence our fears for the safety of our rights; that confidence is every where the parent of despotism; free government is founded in jealousy, and not in confidence; it is jealousy, and not confidence, which prescribes limited constitutions to bind down those whom we are obliged to trust with power; that our Constitution has accordingly fixed the limits to which, and no farther, our confidence may go; and let the honest advocate of confidence read the Alien and Sedition Acts, and say if the Constitution has not been wise in fixing limits to the government it created, and whether we should be wise in destroying those limits; let him say what the government is, if it be not a tyranny, which the men of our choice have conferred on the President, and the President of our choice has assented to and accepted, over the friendly strangers, to whom the mild spirit of our country and its laws had pledged hospitality and protection; that the men of our choice have more respected the bare suspicions of the President than the solid rights of innocence, the claims of justification, the sacred force of truth, and the forms and substance of law and justice. In questions of power, then, let no more be said of confidence in man, but bind him down from mischief by the chains of the Constitution.
quote by Thomas Jefferson
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Oldest Baby In The World
Shes got the mind of a child
And a body peaking over the hill
Well, she would if she could
And she should but nobody will
With her nails painted red
And her hair so unnaturally curled
Well I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world
Shes tasted the night life
But its left her with nothing but hunger
And all the available men
Seem to think that they want something younger
But youth is a costume
And the beauty within lies unfurled
And I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world
Fast horses win races
And royal flushes beat aces
And everyones playing to keep
So lets turn out the lights
And rock that old baby to sleep
She loves the sound of the rain
But you know shes still afraid of the thunder
She keeps a head full of hope
And a heart thats so full of wonder
She may look like a woman
But shes still some daddys little girl
And I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world
Yes, I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world
song performed by John Prine
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Twelve Dancing Princesses
If you danced from midnight
to six A.M. who would understand?
The runaway boy
who chucks it all
to live on the Boston Common
on speed and saltines,
pissing in the duck pond,
rapping with the street priest,
trading talk like blows,
another missing person,
would understand.
The paralytic's wife
who takes her love to town,
sitting on the bar stool,
downing stingers and peanuts,
singing 'That ole Ace down in the hole,'
would understand.
The passengers
from Boston to Paris
watching the movie with dawn
coming up like statues of honey,
having partaken of champagne and steak
while the world turned like a toy globe,
those murderers of the nightgown
would understand.
The amnesiac
who tunes into a new neighborhood,
having misplaced the past,
having thrown out someone else's
credit cards and monogrammed watch,
would understand.
The drunken poet
(a genius by daylight)
who places long-distance calls
at three A.M. and then lets you sit
holding the phone while he vomits
(he calls it 'The Night of the Long Knives')
getting his kicks out of the death call,
would understand.
The insomniac
listening to his heart
thumping like a June bug,
listening on his transistor
to Long John Nebel arguing from New York,
[...] Read more
poem by Anne Sexton
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The Oldest Game Played
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '
~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~
'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A City of The Old
A mature old man from the myth raised a question, 'Who is the oldest poet on earth? . '
when you are old, you will understand more about hope.The city of the Old without hope is the city with lots of hope in the myth.
kitchen, bathroom, market, forest, stock-market, shares prices, bank accounts, logistics plus and minus; the archeology of the old men's skills on carrying travelling bags.
what is the difference between old-aged homes and theatres?
the tide is rising up.
what is your last words?
A sandwithed present moment between the past and the future
congested aesthetics
Buddha said, 'Human beings exist only for a moment'
for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment vfor a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment for a moment
where is your hope escaping?
Is this bank account important for you?
Is the kitchen important for you?
Is the bathroom important important for you?
The bathroom said, 'I clean it again and again and who is making dirty again and again?
Let's listen to the birthrooms' voices.
A mature old man from the myth raised a big question, 'Who is the oldest poet on earth?
waling to the east and looking backwards,
this is the oldest myth on earth.
In ther city of the old, nothingness, autobiography, biography, courage, nurseries, paddy fields,
internet, goggle-earth and butterflies
old man in the myth, the myth in old man; old man in the city, the city in the old man
a matur, old man raised a infant question, 'who is the oldest poet on earth now? '
I saw the youngest poet on earth in Phenom Penh in 2004.
poem by Nyein Way
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The Oldest Profession
Dress in sequence, wearing shoes of pretense
The Oldest Profession glides into view
With devoted help from the media
It invades our minds with all kinds of lies under the guise of protection
It is my personal election
The Oldest Profession does not care how things are done
As long as it is number one
It’s not prejudice against anyone
Many times it’s disguised as fun
It travels from coast to coast
And has the audacity to boast about it’s conquest
Dressed in sequence wearing shoes of pretense
The Oldest Profession glides into view
Now it’s horrendous acts aren’t always behind closed doors
Our children are taught about them in folklores
We glorify the horrors as we sit n our parlors and sip tea
From our childhood and up
We’ve accepted this cup of deceit and we repeat it to our
Love ones
Now the name has been changed to protect the game
But we the people are hip what’s going on
We know this profession does not belong in existence
This profession has destroyed life
Promoted chaos and strife
One thing it has never had and never will have, silence
The Oldest Profession in the world is not prostitution
It is Violence
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Krwlng (Mike Shinoda Feat. Aaron Lewis)
Crawling in my skin
Without a sense of confidence
Consuming, confusing
Crawling in my skin
Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much prssure too take
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
[Aaron]
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
[Chester]
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence Im convinced that theres just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
[Aaron and Chester]
Crawling In my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Discomfort, endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflectionIt's haunting how I can't seem...
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence Im convinced that theres just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Without a sense of confidence i'm convinced that theres just too much pressure to take (2x)
Cant seem to find myself again my walls are closing in..
Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that theres just too much pressure to take
Ive felt this way before so insecure..
[Aaron and Chester]
Crawling In my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real (2x
song performed by Linkin Park
Added by Lucian Velea
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Confidence | Words of Wisdom
Don’t mistake power for confidence
You’ll never never like how it ends
Take your stance and understand
Confidence is the greatest tool
Confidence is power that’s my first rule
Now weapons aren’t that sharp even from the start
But confidence is evident etched with in your brain
Confidence is sharper than any razor blade
Individuality is a packaged deal
You’ve got to trust yourself and know yourself for real
Now trying to control ain’t gonna work
Power is a tool that’s broke
Too much effort, too much mess,
Leaving a trail of broken heart and broken glass
So there’s my proof I say it with confidence
poem by Life in a Poem
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Whether the pitcher strike the stone or the stone the pitcher, the pitcher suffers.
Panamanian proverbs
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Whether the pitcher strike the stone, or the stone the pitcher, woe be to the pitcher.
Spanish proverbs
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Whether the pitcher strikes the stone, or the stone the pitcher, it is bad for the pitcher.
Romanian proverbs
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