Proverbs
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Now I have become death, the destroyer of worlds. (Quoted by Dr. Robert Oppenheimer following the actual creation of the atomic bomb).
The Little Ole Man
Not exactly a proverb... But you will understand what it means..
Can you see him there?
The little ole man in the rusty chair.
He will wait most the night,
just in case a fish may bite.
See the silver in his hair?
Shining so boldly in the twilight air.
I have seen him there.
That little old man in his rusty chair.
Oh how I wish I had the time,
to bait and cast my fishing line.
But, the race keeps rushing on,
I cannot stop and must move along.
My heart begs me to stay there,
with that little old man in his rusty chair.
For it it is a shameful pity
to waste my time in this crowded city.
Today I wonder if he is there,
that little ole man, in his rusty chair.
I thinlk I will go and see,
If that old man has room for me.
He may show me how,
to sit and dream and enjoy the now.
But, I could not find him there,
just his old fishing pole and a rusty old chair.
I wish I hadn't waited so long,
for it is sad to know that he is gone.
All his stories for me are lost,
such that cannot be replaced at any cost.
Did you ever stop there,
and talk to that little old man in the rusty chair?
I would like to know,
for within my heart, I miss him so.
If you ever chance to see
a little old man, beneath a shady tree.
Won't you stop and talk and heartfelt be
For that little ole man...
He may be me.
Written by: Gordy
Not exactly a proverb... But you will understand what it means..
Can you see him there?
The little ole man in the rusty chair.
He will wait most the night,
just in case a fish may bite.
See the silver in his hair?
Shining so boldly in the twilight air.
I have seen him there.
That little old man in his rusty chair.
Oh how I wish I had the time,
to bait and cast my fishing line.
But, the race keeps rushing on,
I cannot stop and must move along.
My heart begs me to stay there,
with that little old man in his rusty chair.
For it it is a shameful pity
to waste my time in this crowded city.
Today I wonder if he is there,
that little ole man, in his rusty chair.
I thinlk I will go and see,
If that old man has room for me.
He may show me how,
to sit and dream and enjoy the now.
But, I could not find him there,
just his old fishing pole and a rusty old chair.
I wish I hadn't waited so long,
for it is sad to know that he is gone.
All his stories for me are lost,
such that cannot be replaced at any cost.
Did you ever stop there,
and talk to that little old man in the rusty chair?
I would like to know,
for within my heart, I miss him so.
If you ever chance to see
a little old man, beneath a shady tree.
Won't you stop and talk and heartfelt be
For that little ole man...
He may be me.
Written by: Gordy
Great stuff. It is uncanny how this reminds me of John Prine lyrics. You definately have a talent for writing Gordy.
Thank you Starman.
I had my Father and my Uncle (my Dad's brother) in mind when I wrote it. Funny thing, I stopped at our cabin on my way home from work at midnight or 1 am or so. I sat beside the river and watched the water go by, gurgling and gulping with the moon shining down and these thoughts and words came to me so naturally that I just had to write them down. I didn't have anything to write with, so I dug up a charcoaled pice of wood out of the firepit and a brown paper grocery bag and used that to record my thoughts and words upon.
I like to repeat it to my friends so that they may "not wait too long" before they decide to really take heart in conversations with thier loved ones before they must depart from this world.
You never know what you miss until the well runs dry.
RADAR
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you may become a poet one day.
I think he already is, just need to get those ramblings out there where people can appreciate them.
wow, i love your poem, you definitely have a very good talent for poetry.
thank you for sharing,
Denny
thank you for sharing,
Denny
that's a good one
if you can read this thank a teacher
the one i hate to admit being a old hippie
violence solves everything
keeps people from being free
and yet free's others.
The right kind of education is important. A group of fish is called a school of fish until we catch them, then we call them a mess of fish. It ocurred to me that had they kept their mouths shut and stayed in school, they wouldn't have ended up in such a mess. Cal ><>
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