Category Archives: ACQUAINTANCES

He tangata takahi manuhiri, he marae puehu

 

 

 

A person who mistreats his guest has a dusty Marae (Meeting house)

 

Someone who disregards his visitors will soon find he has no visitors at all. This accentuates the importance of Manaakitanga, or hospitality with Maori society and culture.

http://www.maori.cl/Proverbs.htm

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Our Visitor

Barcroft Henry Boake (1866-1892)

Australian writer

There’s a fellow on the station
(He dropped in on a call,
Just casual – to stay a pleasant week),
He’s a banker’s near relation,
Strongly built, and very tall,
Not altogether destitute of cheek;
He’s a descent judge of whisky,
And the hardest working youth
Who ever played a polo on a cob;
His anecdotes are risky,
And to tell the honest truth,
He’s waiting here until he gets a job.

He’s waiting, as I mention,
And whene’er he says his prayers,
Which he doesn’t do as frequently as some,
And I fear that his intention
Isn’t quite so good as theirs –
For he prays to God the work may never come.
He marches with the banner
Of the noble unemployed,
He mixes with the fashionable mob,
But while he’s got a tanner
He scorns to be decoyed
Where there’s any chance he may get a job.

He’s an excellent musician,
And the song that suits him best,
“Old Stumpy” is a masterpiece of art;
’Tis a splendid composition
As he chucks it off his chest,
Though there’s something of a hitch about the start.
He’s an artist, too, in colours
For he painted up the boat.
You wonder – but he did, so help me bob,
And all the champion scullers,
When once he gets afloat,
Couldn’t catch him – if they offered him a job.

He’s very unpretending,
Most affable and kind,
He’ll take a whisky any time it suits;
Extremely condescending,
He really does not mind,
He’ll even, when it’s muddy, wear your boots.
Some think he isn’t clever,
But it’s my distinct belief
That there’s much more than they fancy in his nob.
But he’s travelling on the “never”
And will surely die of grief
On the day when he’s compelled to take a job.

http://alldownunder.com/australian-authors/barcroft-henry-boake/our-visitor.htm

 

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The mirror is the worst judge of true beauty. Sophia Nam

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The perfect man uses his mind as a mirror.It grasps nothing. It regrets nothing.It receives but does not keep.

Chuang Tzu

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IN DOUBLE MIRRORS

In double mirrors

                true and false

we are frangible

                skin’s visible default

bony anchors

                loosening ligaments

the moment of meiosis.

                How negligibly begun

but no less purposeful

                zygotes, chiasmic.

As slow doors open

http://redroomcompany.org/poem/angela-gardner/double-mirrors/

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Let no man turn aside, ever so slightly, from the broad path of honour, on the plausible pretence that he is justified by the goodness of his end. All good ends can be worked out by good means. Barnaby Rudge by Charles Dickens

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And yet,’ said the locksmith, softening under this soothing process, and stopping to smile, ‘it MAY be nothing. Any drunken brawler trying to make his way into the house, would have alarmed a quiet soul like her. But then’—and here was the vexation—’how came it to be that man; how comes he to have this influence over her; how came she to favour his getting away from me; and, more than all, how came she not to say it was a sudden fright, and nothing more? It’s a sad thing to have, in one minute, reason to mistrust a person I have known so long, and an old sweetheart into the bargain; but what else can I do, with all this upon my mind!

Hey, bartender, a thousand pints of light! Second City Players

http://infohost.nmt.edu/~armiller/beer/beersay.htm

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When you’re the most happening person at the party, it’s time to leave.

― Kelly Cutrone, If You Have to Cry, Go Outside: And Other Things Your Mother Never Told You

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I don’t think I’ve drunk enough beer to understand that.”
― Terry Pratchett, The Last Continent

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Hope is the last thing to leave a human being.

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 tango, the relationship between lead and follower, man and woman, is so intense and all consuming, that there is simply no time for small talk. The last man I danced with, I know more intricately in many ways than his lover: I know that he perspires in a tiny spot above his brow; that when the dance slows and our connection is tight, his breathing almost stops; that when my leg sweeps his, he arches his neck imperceptibly upwards; that when another couple got too close he subconsciously enclosed me in a protective embrace; and that his hand rested so delicately on the flesh of my back. Yet all I know about him are his name and his country of origin. Small talk is a luxury not afforded to us tango addicts.

Anastasia Demaggio

http://www.verytangostore.com/quotes.html

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LOST IN THE BUSH

I’d left the camp, and lost my way,

‘Mid tangled vines and ferns;

And puzzled was which way to take

From out the many turns;

 

When presently I saw some smoke

Through swamp oaks wreathing up,

And close beside me soon I heard

The yelping of a pup.

 

A forked stick, two sheets of bark,

A low, small fire in front,

And on the ground there sat a black, –

He’d just returned from hunt.

 

And on the coals a sumptuous meal –

A ‘possum roasting whole –

Among the ashes two corn cobs,

Which he that morning stole.

 

I told him I had lost my way,

Was weary, and footsore.

He pointed to a log, and then

Was silent as before.

 

I questioned him – Why all alone?

Where piccaninny, gin?

He sullen looked, and then replied:

“White fellow bin take him.

 

And he bin promise gib it me,

Clothes, blanket, and white bread,

Bacca, and rum, and budgery things;

Baal gib it though,” he said.

 

“And many moons I’ve trabbled bin

With white man long a dray;

But now me going back to tribe;

Baal me now with him stay.

 

“Almost all gone, blackfellow, now;

Baal plenty kangaroo;

Whitefellow sit down everywhere,

Him take it all land, too.”

He led me on, I’d wandered far,

For now ‘twas almost night,

Then pointing to my camp, he turned,

And soon was lost to sight.

 

I thought ‘tis late now to begin,

At this the eleventh hour,

Yet still a something might be done

By those who have the power,

 

For those once owners of the soil,

Neglected thus so long;

I would I had the poet’s gift,

I’d plead their cause in song.

(Kiama Independent, March 28, 1884)

MELINDA KENDALL.

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Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words. Rumi

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He could see plainly that she was not herself. That is, he could not see that she was becoming herself and daily casting aside that fictitious self which we assume like a garment with which to appear before the world.

― Kate Chopin, The Awakening

Don’t even take a bath with fools, because they’ll throw away the soap. Italian

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Jaya Savige: Surface to Air

To quit heroin you have to leave the country,
the novelist says with a wink.

I wonder what you would have made
of Europe. What I’d have made of junk.

I guess I’ve never truly understood
the romance of those ruins of the blood.

http://www.hotsdots.com/poetry/author/mduwell/

 

 

Is minic a bhris béal duine a shrón.

Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose.

http://www.gaelicmatters.com/funny-irish-sayings.html

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foto ulmarra pub near grafton nsw australia

 

Adams and Flinders

Marc Glasby

Up in old Port Wyndham
back in the early days
at tale is told about two men
who wouldn’t mend their ways
 
Adams hated Flinders
they were the town’s JPs
They’d love to lock each other up
then throw away the keys
 
One hot and dusty afternoon
while drinking in the pub
insults turned to punches
over some imagined snub
 
Out in to the street they went
with flailing legs and arms
The cops came down and locked them up
before they came to harm
 
Then in the morning sobered up
there was one fact to face
Each would sit in judgment
upon the others case
 
Well Adams was the first to sit
upon the others crime
The gavel fell, the judgment was
a mere five shilling fine
  
Then Flinders turn to sit arrived
He donned his wig and frowned
‘There’s too much of this thing about
the fine will be ten pounds’
 
We don’t how it went from there
or how the story ends
but one thing we can bet for sure
they’d never be good friends

Aug 2000 Brisbane

http://www.wanowandthen.com/Ballads/text.html

A man who has one finger pointing at another has three pointing towards himself. ~Nigerian

http://www.gadel.info/2011/03/ghanaian-and-nigerian-proverbs.html

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CREON’S DREAM
The old hull’s spine shoots out of the mud-flat,
a black crooked finger pointing back to the house.
On the dead low the smell of the mangroves.The river seeps through the window, the books
are opened out on the desk. When the first breeze
hits the curtain the cats scatter.

It could be dawn for all I know, concentration
wanders through Creon’s words to Antigone
Go to the dead and love them – okay so they live as

long as I do – what else can I make of it?
The bright feathers from a crimson rosella lie
in clumps on the floor with a pair of broken wings.

In the dark I try to write and remember the zoo
I played in as a child. There was a balding sedated lion
and a wedge-tailed eagle hunched on a dead

tree in a cage; they threw it rabbits
in 1953. The whooping cranes side-
stepped the concrete ponds and whooped all night.

The blue heron flaps across the river in my head,
poddy mullet hanging from its tight beak.
Ah, dead fish, the old black crow, the sick pelican.

I pad the room, out there mangroves are pumping up
the putrid air, life goes on. At the zoo they
still throw the animals dead meat, the big cats

are bred in labs where they lock the albino
freaks away. I pace the kitchen: where are the books,
who reads the poems? I take a drink, ribbonfish

swim across my pages, I shake my head but they swim on –
in low flocks, chromium ribbons, they fly under
the river herding up the poddy mullet,

rippling the surface, as the tawny frogmouth knows.
The books have gone, the spoonbills wade in
with whitebait skipping ahead of them,

channel-billed cuckoo come swooping after the crows,
flying low over the water, calling their mates,
dipping their hooked beaks into the moving chrome.

I sleep in broken snatches and dream nothing.
Mosquitoes suck at my cheeks and empty bottles
clutter the verandah, the books are in darkness

but the sandy whimbrels finger the pages, words
dissolve, waves of the dead arrive in dreams.
Out there the black finger points to the mouth

of the river, where the dead are heading, they
move over the window glass. The extinct fins move
the fingers of my grandfather, mending nets,

the dead friends sing from invisible books. The heron
picks the blood-shot eye from my father’s terrible
work in the kilns and darkness is complete.

© 2001, Robert Adamson
From: Mulberry Leaves: New and Selected Poems
Publisher: Paper Bark Press, 2001

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

– Eden Abhez

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“An acquaintance merely enjoys your company, a fair-weather companion flatters when all is well, a true friend has your best interests at heart and the pluck to tell you what you need to hear.”

― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

I was considered the black sheep of the family, neighbours didn’t want their kids playing with me.

(Quote by – Michelle Pfeiffer)

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It would be nice to travel if you knew where you were going and where you would live at the end or do we ever know, do we ever live where we live, we’re always in other places, lost, like sheep.

(Quote by – Janet Frame)

The naked truth is always better than the best dressed lie. ~Ann Landers

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“I do not trust people who don’t love themselves and yet tell me, ‘I love you.’ There is an African saying which is: Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt.”

― Maya Angelou

If you stop to be kind, you must swerve often from your path.

~Mary Webb

http://www.gadel.info/2011/04/kindness-quotes-and-kindness-proverbs.html

 

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“Kindness is tenderness. Kindness is love, but perhaps greater than love…Kindness is good will. Kindness says, “I want you to be happy.”


Randolph Ray

http://www.indianchild.com/quotes_for_kindness.htm

Bad friends will prevent you from having good friends.

~ Gabon proverb

http://afritorial.com/the-best-72-african-wise-proverbs/

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“ That’s the pathetic thing about high school. Everyone tries so hard to be something they aren’t. It’s gotten so I don’t know who I am, so how can I even try to be who I am, much less who I’m not?
My problem is that I don’t even fit in with the misfits.
I don’t fit anywhere.”

― Katie Alender, Bad Girls Don’t Die

If you walk inside the cages at the zoo, you get to see the animals close up, stroke the captive pelts, and mingle with the energy behind the mystique. You also get to smell the shit firsthand.”

― Ellen Sanders

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Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same, knowing she has wings.

Victor Hugo

 

 

I choose my friends for their good looks, my acquaintances for their good characters, and my enemies for their good intellects. Oscar Wilde

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She had lived a great deal among lies, before plumping for a small life of her own, a sincere and restricted life from which all pretense, even in matters sensual, was banished. How many crazy decisions and allegiances to successive aspects fo the truth! Had she not, one day when her costume for a fancy dress had demanded short hair, cut off the great chestnut mane that fell below her waist when she let it down? ‘I could have hired a wig,’ she thought. ‘I might also, at a pinch, have passed the rest of my life with Becker or Espivant. If it comes to that, I could also have gone on stirring puddings in a saucepan at Carneilhan. The things "one might have done" are, in fact, the things one could not do…”

Colette, Gigi, Julie de Carneilhan, and Chance Acquaintances: Three Short Novels

WHO KEEPS COMPANY WITH A WOLF LEARNS TO HOWL.

The Antiquity of Proverbs: Fifty Familiar Proverbs and Folk Sayings with Annotations and Lists …

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“This was the first time he had seriously confronted what he was doing, and the force of that awareness came very abruptly – with a surging of his pulse and a frantic pounding in his head. He was about to gamble his life on that table, and the insanity of that risk filled him with a kind of awe.” Paul Auster, “The Music of Chance” (1990)

http://www.casinos.net/gambling-quotes-proverbs-sayings.htm

foto – izzy foreal and William white aka billy james at raleigh 2010

Love your neighbour, but don’t pull down the fence. German.

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*’TIS well that ev’ry one should know, Something of his next door neighbour; What are his hours of to and fro? — Habits of life, and trade or labour? For, whatever our love of quiet. And our care to keep aloof, If he’s giv’n to drink and riot, Mischief soon may reach our roof. Peaceful neighbours are a treasure .