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Albert Einstein

Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving.

in letter to his son Eduard (5 February 1930)Report problemRelated quotes
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Handles Bermuda

bean bag spokane
betty boop retro bowling bag
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beijo bags

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Luggage Canada

b ean bag stoer
bed liner motorcycle bags
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bed in a bag ty pennington
beetle bags roadstar midnight star
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bean bag shells shotgun

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Maymie's Story Of Red Riding Hood

W'y, one time wuz a little-weenty dirl,
An' she wuz named Red Riding Hood, 'cause her--
Her _Ma_ she maked a little red cloak fer her
'At turnt up over her head--An' it 'uz all
Ist one piece o' red cardinal 'at 's like
The drate-long stockin's the store-keepers has.--
O! it 'uz purtiest cloak in all the world
An' _all_ this town er anywheres they is!
An' so, one day, her Ma she put it on
Red Riding Hood, she did--one day, she did--
An' it 'uz _Sund'y_--'cause the little cloak
It 'uz too nice to wear ist _ever'_ day
An' _all_ the time!--An' so her Ma, she put
It on Red Riding Hood--an' telled her not
To dit no dirt on it ner dit it mussed
Ner nothin'! An'--an'--nen her Ma she dot
Her little basket out, 'at Old Kriss bringed
Her wunst--one time, he did. And nen she fill'
It full o' whole lots an' 'bundance o' good things t' eat
(Allus my Dran'ma _she_ says ''bundance,' too.)
An' so her Ma fill' little Red Riding Hood's
Nice basket all ist full o' dood things t' eat,
An' tell her take 'em to her old Dran'ma--
An' not to _spill_ 'em, neever--'cause ef she
'Ud stump her toe an' spill 'em, her Dran'ma
She'll haf to _punish_ her!

An' nen--An' so
Little Red Riding Hood she p'omised she
'Ud be all careful nen an' cross' her heart
'At she wont run an' spill 'em all fer six--
Five--ten--two-hundred-bushel-dollars-go ld!
An' nen she kiss her Ma doo'-bye an' went
A-skippin' off--away fur off frough the
Big woods, where her Dran'ma she live at.--No!--
She didn't do _a-skippin'_, like I said:--
She ist went _walkin'_--careful-like an' slow--
Ist like a little lady--walkin' 'long
As all polite an' nice--an' slow--an' straight--
An' turn her toes--ist like she's marchin' in
The Sund'y-School k-session!

An'--an'--so
She 'uz a-doin' along--an' doin' along--
On frough the drate big woods--'cause her Dran'ma
She live 'way, 'way fur off frough the big woods
From _her_ Ma's house. So when Red Riding Hood
She dit to do there, allus have most fun--
When she do frough the drate big woods, you know.--
'Cause she ain't feared a bit o' anything!

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South Carolina

The other day my neighbor has a dented bike
Second day he called me from intensive care
Says he needs a picture of the dented bike
For the evidence of what a wreck he had
Accident
Accident
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
And I won some damages and they were punitive
By which I mean the punishment was damaging
It crushed my head
It crushed my head
Garcon, wheres my drink?
Wreck!
Observe the front wheel spinning upside down
Wreck!
The red reflector fragments strewn around
Wreck!
The back wheels o is now a letter d
Wreck!
I was an i and now I am a v
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Lift that fork, eat that snail
Garcon summoned, have a new cocktail
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
Crash my bicycle
Crash my bicycle
In a big south carolina wreck
I crash my bicyle
If I had to do it all again, buy* bicycle
If I had to do it, I would crash my bicycle
Id crush my head
Collect the bread
Crash my bicycle
Move along folks
Push her back there, move along

[...] Read more

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My White Bicycle

My white bicycle, my white bicycle
Riding all around the street
Four oclock and theyre all asleep
Im not tired and its so late
Moving fast everything looks great.
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
See that man, hes all alone
Looks so happy but hes far from home
Ring my bell, smile at him
Better kick over his garbage bin
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
The rain comes down but I dont care
The wind is blowing in my hair
Seagulls flying in the air
My white bicycle
Lead:
Policeman shouts but I dont see him
Theyre one thing I dont believe in
Find some judge, but its not leavin
Lift both hands, his head in disgrace
Shines no light upon my face
Through the darkness, we still speed
My white bicycle and me
My white bicycle, my white bicycle
(burgess/west)
Getaway music
Copyright 1975 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd

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Red BMX Bicycle

There was a small boy
In the countryside
Who had a small red BMX bicycle
Kept in the store besides the herbicides
Every evening like a cycle
He would ride down the dusty road
The sun a yellow ball
on the west side
Glittering under the sun`s rays
Was that small
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
Who had nothing…
Totally nothing
He was a friend to the small boy
Every evening like a cycle
He would wait by the dusty road
To have a chance
On the small red BMX bicycle
His face would be all smiles
Even after falling off that
RED BMX BICYCLE
One day at dusk
The smaller boy
Stood next to the small boy
And asked
“When you grow up, would you give me this bike? ”
The small boy without thinking
Said YES..
There was a smaller boy
In the countryside
One night
He had a bad stomach ache
His mum wiping the tiny streams of tears
That fell from his small face
That was pale…
Due to dust from the dusty road
As he played with his the small boy
And rode on that
RED BMX BICYCLE
There was a small boy
In the countryside…
Now HE is all grown
And in the university
Far away in the city
That RED BMX BICYCLE
Now long gone
Given to some relative, I guess
If I could go back

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Balance

What island is this that I'm on?
With no regrets that I'm desolate.
What is it that I gave up and glad is gone?
That left me with headaches from night 'till dawn!

I sought to seek...
And now I keep,
Within me deep...
A,
Balance!
More of it I needed than times before.
It was a...
Balance!
I had to give up the keeping of scores.
My balance!
Whatever it took I knew would challenge,
My wanting to just have balance.

Balance!
More of it I needed than times before.
It was a...
Balance!
I had to give up the keeping of scores.
My balance!
Whatever it took I knew would challenge,
My wanting to just have balance.

What island is this that I'm on?
With no regrets that I'm desolate.
What is it that I gave up and glad is gone?
That left me with headaches from night 'till dawn!

Balance!
More of it I needed than times before.
It was a...
Balance!
I had to give up the keeping of scores.
My balance!
Whatever it took I knew would challenge,
My wanting to just have balance.
And I had to distance from those shores.

Balance!
More of it I needed than times before.
It was a...
Balance!
I had to give up the keeping of scores.
My balance!
And I will keep this with me forevermore.
Balance.

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Ride It

I'll be riding it
I'll be riding it
Wanna make some music
To take me in and out of my head
Get into my groove
In time with my body instead
And when the bass kicks in
I can feel my song beginning
Boy your lovin gets me high
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go
Ah you're riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Yeah my body's where this party's at
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
Hes a little rude and nasty
His tempo is an overload
He gets jiggy with it here
But all I wanna do is vogue
And when the bass kicks in
I can dance like no one's watching
It's a funny kind of feeling
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go
I'll be riding it
Chicas bumping to the beat
From the side and underneath
Yeah my body's where this party's at
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
When you're spinning in
I'll be riding it
And when the bass kicks in
I can dance like no one's watching
It's a funny kind of feeling
'Cause you're the only one
Who can pump it loud the way I like
You're a DJ I'm a song
Take me out and turn me on
Let yourself go

[...] Read more

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Rough God Goes Riding

Oh the mud splattered victims
Have to pay out all along the ancient highway
Torn between half truth and victimisation
Fighting back with counter attacks
Its when that rough God goes riding
When the rough God goes gliding
And then rough God goes riding
Riding on in
I was flabbergasted by the headlines
People in glasshouses throwing stones
Gaping wounds that will never heal
Now theyre moaning like a dog in a manger
Its when that rough God goes riding
And then the rough God goes gliding
Therell be nobody hiding
When that rough God comes riding on in
And its a matter of survival
When youre born with your back against the wall
Wont somebody hand me a bible
Wont you give me that number to call
When that rough God goed riding
And then that rough God goes gliding
Theyll be nobody hiding
When that rough God goes riding on in
Riding on in
When that rough God goed riding
When that rough God goes gliding
Therell be nobody hiding
When that rough God goes riding on in
Riding on in
Therell be no more heroes
Theyll be reduced to zero
When that rough God goes riding
Riding on in
Riding on in
Riding on in
Riding on in

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Boxing Day Blues

My dad got on his bicycle to ride to Spondon village,
to say Happy Christmas to his dear old mum.
He rode across the fields and by the River Derwent,
it was a frosty morning, but bright in the sun.

He left the riverside and climbed up by the bridge
onto the carriageway and along the cycle path.
At the railway crossing he cut off down the lane,
by the scrap dealers and an old tin bath.

Across the level crossing by the side of the station
over the canal bridge and pass the Moon Hotel.
Onward towards Lodge Lane and his next turn right
where he hit the pavement and very nearly fell.

Number two Willowcroft Road was his destination,
he wasn’t expected, so his mum would be surprised.
Catching his breath for a second at the open back door,
his mother said, “Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Happy Christmas mum, ” he said as he kissed her cheek.
“Happy Christmas George, I’ll make a fresh pot of tea.”
As they sat chatting, his brothers came through the door,
“Happy Christmas George, ” said Frank, Jim and Alfie.

“George, have you got time to come for a drink?
We’re going for a bevy down the Moon.
We’ll also have a laugh and a few hands of cards,
and generally enjoy the afternoon.”

He said he had and kissed his mum goodbye,
and off they walked down to the Moon.
They were pleased and happy to be together again
and arrived at the pub exactly at noon.

Now my dad was by no means a drinking man
and one Milk Stout was all he would drink,
but when The Moon closed that afternoon,
he had more than one too many I think.

Happily, he said goodbye to his brothers,
as he mounted his bicycle to ride home.
His balance was decidedly questionable
and more so when he rode over a stone.

As he cycled his stomach began churning
and his head began to spin inside.
By the riverside he fell off his bicycle
and vomited on the grass where he lied.

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Things To Be Balanced

Balance my heart between fast and slow beating rate,
Balance my wealth between the pauper and the rich state,
Balance my food between malnourished and overeating,
Balance my thought between weird and super serene.

Balance the car tyres to get aligned,
Balance the budget without any deficit,
Balance the love for the work and the family,
Balance the time between the recreations and duties.

Lord, Balance my posture of attitude at the altitude,
Balance my temperamental words when in multitude,
Balance the balance of deeds, on the judgment day,
by adding some good deeds or removing something bad.

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Riding In A Circle

I keep...
Riding in a circle.

I keep...
Repeating those,
Same old lines.

I keep...
Riding in a circle.
Wanting to find,
Reasons for the rhyme

What am I trying to pick up?
And what am I trying to find?

Could it be,
The reason for the rhyme?
And the reason I'm riding this merry-go-round,
Out of mind.

I keep...
Riding in a circle.

I keep...
Repeating those,
Same old lines.

I keep...
Riding in a circle.
Wanting to find,
Reasons for the rhyme

What am I trying to pick up?
And what am I trying to find?

Could it be...
The reason for the rhyme?
And the reason I'm riding this merry-go-round,
Out of mind.
And the reason I'm riding this merry-go-round,
Out of mind.

I keep...
Riding in a circle.
And the reason I'm riding this merry-go-round,
Out of mind.

I keep...
Riding in a circle.
And the reason I'm riding this merry-go-round,

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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

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From A Moving Train

Written by gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Ive seen the ides of march
And Ive seen the fall of rome
Ive seen all kinds of stuff
But I never see my home
If my life-line is
These million miles of track
One thing I know by now
There is no turning back
From a moving train
From a moving train
From a moving train
From a moving train
If every venture was
A path to no avail
Id still be rolling down
This never ending trail
If we had a destination
In our sights
We would be helpless as
We passed it in the night
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)
And if by chance you find a woman
That you might love along the way
You better hold her tight
Tell her everythings alright
Or she might jump along the way
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)
From a moving train (hear the engine running)
From a moving train (you can get on board)
From a moving train (hear the motor humming)
From a moving train (see, youve gotta see the light)

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The highwayman

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding
Ridingriding
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."


He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

PART TWO

He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—

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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

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A Bicycle Poem

do not worry how the bicycle looks
ride it.
do not think how the wheel and its
spokes work
do not attempt to understand its structure
ride it.

do not think how the other people looks at
you with your bicycle
just ride it.

when you are riding it already
just feel the joy of the air that meets your face
the speed by which it takes you
to another destination

just ride it, disembark when you get there
you do not even have to own it and keep it for the rest of your life

when you get old
remember that bicycle that once gave you all the joys of riding

before you die
give it to the young

they shall have their own joys too
riding it

and perhaps they will write a poem about you
or if not
about the bicycle at least
who knows?

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Inertia Creeps

3d
Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Interia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
In my home no chrome as clear as
See me now with my nearest dearest
Been there when Im over-careering
Room shifting is endearing
Between us is our kitchen
Where she finds my irritants itching
Been here before been here forever
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
She comes
There be no sound in my eiderdown
Awake I lie in the morning blue
Room is still my antenna in you
Nylon burns the bedspread with 2
Gravity zero see me stall
I bounce off the walls lose my footing and fall
It can be sweet though incomplete though
And the frames will freeze see me on all 4s
Its been a long time
She comes (x2)
Comes
I want to x you, she comes

[...] Read more

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Race Babbling

This world is moving much to fast
Theyre race babbling
This world is moving much to fast
The ends unravelling
Mans production
Lifes corruption
World destruct
Help me people
Save you people
Gods induction
Lifes construction
These instruct
Will save every living thing
Cant you see that
Lifes connected
You need us to live
Both we dont need you
This world is moving much to fast
Theyre race babbling
This world is moving much to fast
Theyre race babbling
This world is moving much to fast
The ends unravelling
This world is moving much too fast
You cant conceive the nucleus of all
Begins inside a tiny seed
And what you see as insignificant
Mans production
Lifes corruption
World destruct
Help me people
Save you people
Gods induction
Lifes construction
These instruct
Will save every living thing
Cant you see that
Lifes connected
You need us to live
Both we dont need you
This world is moving much to fast
This world is moving much to fast
Theyre race babbling
This world is moving much to fast
Theyre space travelling
This world is moving much to fast
Theyre race babbling
This world is moving much to fast
The ends unravelling
This world is moving much to fast

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie WonderReport problemRelated quotes
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Bishop Blougram's Apology

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.

So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.

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poem by from Men and Women (1855)Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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