Quotes about desk, page 2
You can know a person by the kind of desk he keeps. If the president of a company has a clean desk then it must be the executive vice president who is doing all the work.
quote by Harold S. Geneen
Added by Lucian Velea
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I just couldn't take school seriously: I had this guitar neck with four frets which I kept hidden under the desk. It had strings on it so I would practice my chord shapes under the desk and that's about all I did at school.
quote by Alvin Lee
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I was very strange back then. I could see I had problems. I would sit in a closet a lot of the time and not come out, or I would sit up on top of my desk, or under my desk, or do weird things like get my wisdom teeth out and bleed all over the hallways.
Tim Burton in Burton On Burton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sir, I see a lot of documents in my day-to-day business, and I can't tell you every document that I've seen. It may have passed across my desk. It may not have passed across my desk. I truthfully cannot answer that question, other than to say I don't remember.
quote by Rand Beers
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In The Doldrums Waiting
I sit at my desk
in the doldrums waiting
for an idea to hit me,
but sadly, nothing comes along.
I think of things that
have happened to me
hoping one of them will inspire.
However, the memories compound together
overlapping into one another,
and each are small glimpses
of a more elaborate one.
The nonsense of them all
sends me backwards to where I started from,
sitting here at my desk
in the doldrums waiting.
2 September 2012
poem by David Harris
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The Write Place
I have a desk at which to write
but I prefer my old arm chair
It is so comfortable, just right
I usually do my writing there.
I have a pc which I use
mainly to edit and correct
The quick outpourings of my muse
as do most poets I suspect.
A pad and pencil are my tools
I use modern technology
but stick to my old fashioned rules
when I’m composing poetry
My desk is very nearly bare
but books abound by my arm chair.
21-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Trust
A word on my desk with dust
enough to leave some rust
Just a little dust on the table of our life
trust is just another word for little white lies
I remember the bliss of love
But also of lust
Given in faith for trust
Thrown away on a desk full of dust.
on a promissory note so clear
Even evil could not endear
so wrong my dear
you are dancing in heaven
while I am stuck here in hell
angels tell me of your bliss
[...] Read more
poem by John Shea
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Redundant.
.
The skull that grins upon my desk
I picked up at a car boot sale
Although my taste me seen grotesque.
The skull reminds me without fail.
As he is now so will I be.
In time to come I too must die
I don't suppose he thought that he.
Would end up as a bargain buy.
When I am dead my skull may be.
An ornament that's on display.
On someone's desk quite possibly
What does it matter anyway.
Though it was mine it is not me.
It never was nor will it be.
Saturday,08 September 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I am Not Homeless
I am not homeless
there is a number on my door
a room mate cat quilt desk sofa
spray bottles under the sink.
I am not homeless
on the train initiated
showing a monthly ticket to the guard
I am not homeless
at my desk in the office
expected to talk beg
bring in the business
give them the business
business as usual or get the hell out
I am not homeless
in a world of obligation
scrambling to pay rent
electricity gas oil phone commutation
[...] Read more
poem by J. Barrett Wolf
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Your Love Became A Terrible Loss
I sit here at my desk
And try to write through my pain
To expel my own heartache
That I may feel close to normality again
The opportunity were it real
Now seems but a distant dream
As much as I may love you
That ship has long since sailed
Now gone from my shore
I am an island alone
Your love became a terrible loss
For it was a love unknown
Could you have loved me
As I now love you
A question I will never know
For you are gone, lost to me
A memory and a dream
I sit here at this desk to write
So I may remember or forget
Your love became a terrible loss
[...] Read more
poem by Matthew Holloway
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