Category Archives: Human Race

At The Expense Of Men

If men can run the world, why can’t they stop wearing neckties? How intelligent is it to start the day by tying a noose around your neck?

Napoleon was just a short dictator on a big horse.

The only person who could get everything done by Friday was Robinson Crusoe.

A male gynecologist is like an auto mechanic who never owned a car. Carrie Snow

When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. Elayne Boosler

Men are like government bonds. They take so long to mature.

A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. A woman must do what he can’t. Rhonda Hansome



Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well–
That is light grieving! lighter, none befell
Since Adam forfeited the primal lot.
Tears ! what are tears ? The babe weeps in its cot,
The mother singing; at her marriage-bell
The bride weeps, and before the oracle
Of high-faned hills the poet has forgot
Such moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace,
Ye who weep only! If, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded in a desert place
And touch but tombs, – look up! those tears will run
Soon in long rivers down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning~

Wage-slaves to War-makers

We have no land for which to fight
Except where Russia cracks the night.
This is your land, within your power.
We break the rock; you pluck the flower.
We build the roads on which you speed.
And when we strike for what we need
We learn at once how well you own
The press, the courts and every stone
Of every structure that we rear.
Say, what invaders shall we fear?
Why should we care out on the job
If you or others drive and rob?

We have no land for which to fight
Though all the world is ours by right.
We workers grimed with soot and mud
Have shed enough and more of blood.
Each office-building overhead
Is built on corpses of our dead.
We have no quarrel across the foam
But here within our jail, your home!
We give our pledge we shall not kill,
For ours the braver, kinder will.
But if you force us till we do,
It will be you, it will be you!

~Edward Ralph Cheyney~

Villanelle Of Challenge

Go count the scars upon your soul and sing,
They are proof that you have met the foe,
A battered crown sits well upon a king.

Since Time makes honey out of sorrow’s sting
And wounds turn purple for the public show,
Go count the scars upon your soul and sing.
While sword or ploughshare on the anvil ring,
Soon, come what may, the fretting world will know
A battered crown sits well upon a king.

And care no more for what the dawn may bring,
Yours is a realm no knave can overthrow,
Go count the scars upon your soul and sing.
Aye, sing the praise for every lonely thing
that breaks its heart on all we say or know;
A battered crown sits well upon a king

Who stands aloof and fills his empty sling
With words and stones to meet fate blow for blow;
Go count the scars upon your soul and sing,
A battered crown sits well upon a king.

~A.M. Sullivan~


Seems I missed World Poetry Day on March 21st…

I am Yesterday.
I am gone from you forever.
I am the last of a long procession of days, streaming behind you, away from you, pouring into mist and obscurity, and at last into the ocean of oblivion.
I depart from you, yet am I ever with you.
Once I was called Tomorrow and was virgin pure; then I became your spouse and was named Today; now I am Yesterday and carry upon me the eternal stain of your embrace.
I am one of the leaves of a growing book. There are many pages before me.
Someday you shall turn us all over and read us and know what you are.
I am rich, for I have wisdom.
I bore you a child and left him with you. His name is Experience.
I am Yesterday; yet I am the same as Today and Forever for I AM YOU; and you cannot escape from yourself.

~Frank Crane~


I do not fear
To walk the lonely road
Which leads far out into
The sullen night. Nor do
I fear the rebel, wind-tossed
Sea that stretches onward, far,
Beyond the might of human hands
Or human loves. It is the
Brooding, sharp-thorned discontent
I fear, the nagging days without
A sound of song; the sunlit
Noon of ease; the burden of
Delight and – flattery. It is
The hate-touched soul I dread,
The joyless heart; the unhappy
Faces in the streets; the
Smouldering fires of unforgiven
Slights. These do I fear. Not
Night, nor surging seas, nor
Rebel winds. But hearts unlovely,
And unloved.

~James A. Fraser~

To You The Torch We Fling

“To you the torch we fling”;
The challenge yet is heard,
Bequest of fullest sacrifice,
A life-demanding word.
Yet this thought with it comes,
A question tinged with doubt:
Shall we the torch to others pass
Whose light we’ve let go out?

~Arthur B. Dale~

Do You Fear The Force Of The Wind

Do you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
Go hungry and cold like the wolf,
Go wade like the crane:
The palms of your hands will thicken,
The skin of your cheek will tan,
You’ll grow ragged and weary and swarthy,
But you’ll walk like a man!

~ Hamlin Garland ~

Life After Delivery

Thinking outside the box…a thought to ponder…

Do You Believe in Life After Delivery?

In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?”

The other replies, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”

“Nonsense,” says the other, “There is no life after delivery. What would that life be?”

“I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths.”

The other says, “This is absurd! Walking is impossible. And eat with our mouths? Ridiculous. The umbilical cord supplies nutrition. Life after delivery is to be excluded. The umbilical cord is too short.”

“I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here.”

The other replies, “No one has ever come back from there. Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery it is nothing but darkness and anxiety and it takes us nowhere.”

“Well, I don’t know,” says the other, “but certainly we will see mother and she will take care of us.”

“Mother?? You believe in mother? Where is she now?”

“She is all around us. It is in her that we live. Without her there would not be this world.”

“I don’t see her, so it’s only logical that she doesn’t exist.”

To which the other replied, “sometimes when you’re in silence you can hear her, you can perceive her. I believe there is a reality after delivery and we are here to prepare ourselves for that reality.”


I just finished reading Philomena. Such a sad heartbreaking story. A life inexorably linked to those first few years. We really have no idea how our actions, regardless of who we are, affect our children…

It’s we who, with our exclusion and rejecting, push our brothers and sisters to find refuge in alcohol and become drunks. They drink to forget the deprivation of their lives. Mother Theresa

Man’s inhumanity to man shall countless thousands mourn. Robert Burns

What need is there to weep over parts of life? The whole of it calls for tears. Seneca

Paul Dobraszczyk

rag-picking history

Tdoo in Lesotho

My favourites and it's an eclectic selection


My favourites and it's an eclectic selection


Musings from a mind that just can't be made up

Faces in Places

My favourites and it's an eclectic selection