Poems And Quotes

I love my homework,
Yes I do!
I do my homework,
Yes I do!
Can you imagine why,
I never start to cry,
‘Oh my homework’s just too much! ‘
ever let it out of my clutch,
My homework’s are emty
Tutor doesn’t shout ‘ Memty! ‘
I have not seen anything so fair,
I don’t have homework,
So there!
by

sharmila saheed

Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you
away in the sink.
If only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You’re giving me fits.
I’d rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion
alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the homework
my teacher assigns.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You’re last on my list.
I simply can’t see
why you even exist.
If you just disappeared
it would tickle me pink.
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!

Written by

Jack Prelutsky

Sometimes my homework is small
Sometimes my homework is long
But whenever i do my homework
My homework is always wrong

Sometimes I do my homework at a slow pace
Sometimes I do my homework in the fast lane
But however I do my homework
my homework is still a pain

Sometimes my homework is easy
Sometimes my homework is hard
But whenever i can’t do my homework
I feel like a retard

by

Michael Rawlinson

Hope is a subtle Glutton —
He feeds upon the Fair —
And yet — inspected closely
What Abstinence is there —

His is the Halcyon Table —
That never seats but One —
And whatsoever is consumed
The same amount remain

by

Emily Dickinson

The way Hope builds his House
It is not with a sill —
Nor Rafter — has that Edifice
But only Pinnacle —

Abode in as supreme
This superficies
As if it were of Ledges smit
Or mortised with the Laws

by

Emily Dickinson

A great Hope fell
You heard no noise
The Ruin was within
Oh cunning wreck that told no tale
And let no Witness in

The mind was built for mighty Freight
For dread occasion planned
How often foundering at Sea
Ostensibly, on Land

A not admitting of the wound
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
And there were troughs beside

A closing of the simple lid
That opened to the sun
Until the tender Carpenter
Perpetual nail it down

by

Emily Dickinson

Transl. Daniel Ladinksky

What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?

I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.

I heard a fable once about the sun going on a journey
to find its source, and how the moon wept
without her lover’s
warm gaze.

We weep when light does not reach our hearts. We wither
like fields if someone close
does not rain their
kindness
upon

by

Meister Eckhart

Sweet is my hope.
Pure is the life of my hope.
With my sweet hope
I try to reach the higher worlds.
With my pure hope
I try to fathom my inner worlds.
But alas,
In neither way do I succeed.
I fail,
I miserably fail.

By:

Sri Chinmoy

Hope” is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea,
Yet never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

by

Emily Dickinson