Posts from the ‘Life’ Category

Crabby Old Man…………… Truth of Life

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.

Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Missouri ..

The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based
on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet.

Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. .. . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you’re looking at me?
A crabby old man . . . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit . . . . . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . . . . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . ‘I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice . . . . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking? . . . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am. . . . . . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of Ten . . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . . . who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . . . with wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . . a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . . my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons . . .. . . have grown and are gone,
But my woman’s beside me . . . . . to see I don’t mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . . . . my wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . . . . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . . . and the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old man . . . . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . . . . a young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living . . . . . life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man .. . . Look closer . . . see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet

an older person who you might brush aside

without looking at the young soul within.

We will all, one day, be there, too!

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Love is Like ….

love is like an ocean
It goes down so deep
love is like a rose
Whose beauty you want to keep.

love is like a river
That will never end
love is like a dove
With a beautiful message to send.

love is like a prisoner
It’s to you that I surrender
love is like a song
That shall go on and on forever.

A flower of God’s design, the Rosebud…..

A young, new preacher was walking with an older, more seasoned preacher in the garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do, he was asking the older preacher for some advice. The older preacher walked up to a rose bush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing any of the petals The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of God for his life and ministry. But, because of his great respect for the older preacher, he proceeded to try and unfold the rosebud while keeping every petal intact . . It wasn’t long before he realized how impossible this was to do. Noticing the young preacher’s inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following poem:

It is only a tiny rosebud
A flower of God’s design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so sweetly,
Then, in my hands, they die

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
The flower of God’s design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So, I’ll trust in Him for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to Him for His guidance
Each step of the Pilgrim’s way.

The pathway that lies before me
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I’ll trust him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose

Most Effective way to Reduce Cost – by An Employee..

Read more…

I love you against ….!!

I desire your touch on my skin
I want to feel you inside of me again.
I long for your caresses on my flesh
I need you to love me again.



I miss your arms around me still
I cry not, with only strength of will.
My heart grows colder with time.
My love for you I must kill.

I crossed that line not knowing.
I hide it within me not showing
I love you against the rules we set
Yet I found it inside of me growing.

Once I almost said those words.
Once I was tempted with the absurd.
I know you will never be mine.
I am entangled in loves cords.

I let my heart freedom to roam
And now it wont come back home.
I regret only one thing in this affair.
That I cannot have you for my own.

I just heard if from some where … …

Before & After My Judgement Day !!!

If tomorrow is judgement day,
And I’m standing on the front line
And the Lord asks me what I did with my life
I will say I spent it with you,.

If I wake up in world war three
I see destruction and poverty..

And I feel like I wanna go home
It’s okay if you’re coming with me,.


Your love is my love and my love is your love
it would take an eternity to break us up

The chains of Amistad couldn’t hold us.

If I lose my fame and fortune
(It really don’t matter)
And my home is on the streets
On the streets, oh Lord)

And I’m sleeping in grand central station
It’s okay if you’re sleeping with me ..

As the years, they pass us by
(The years, the years, the years)
We stay young through each other’s eyes..

And no matter how old we get, oh
It’s okay as long as I got you, baby


It’s okay as long as I got you, baby

If I should die this very day
Don’t cry cuz on earth
We wasn’t meant to stay

And no matter what the people say
I’ll be waiting for you
After the judgement day


Rare Collection – Einstein…..

Einstein’s father


Einstein’s mother


House of Einstein


Einstein’s childhood photo

School class photograph in Munich , 1889. Einstein is in the front row, second from right. He did well only in mathematics and in Latin (whose logic he admired).

Was Einstein’s Brain Different?

Of course it was-people’s brains are as different as their faces. In his lifetime many wondered if there was anything especially different in Einstein’s. He insisted that on his death his brain be made available for research. When Einstein died in 1955, pathologist Thomas Harvey quickly preserved the brain and made samples and sections. He reported that he could see nothing unusual. The variations were within the range of normal human variations. There the matter rested until 1999. Inspecting samples that Harvey had carefully preserved, Sandra F. Witelson and colleagues discovered that Einstein’s brain lacked a particular small wrinkle (the parietal operculum) that most people have. Perhaps in compensation, other regions on each side were a bit enlarged-the inferior parietal lobes. These regions are known to have something to do with visual imagery and mathematical thinking. Thus Einstein was apparently better equipped than most people for a certain type of thinking. Yet others of his day were probably at least as well equipped-Henri Poincaré and David Hilbert, for example, were formidable visual and mathematical thinkers, both were on the trail of relativity, yet Einstein got far ahead of them. What he did with his brain depended on the nurturing of family and friends, a solid German and Swiss education, and his own bold personality.


A late bloomer:
Even at the age of nine Einstein spoke hesitantly, and his parents feared that he was below average intelligence. Did he have a learning or personality disability (such as "Asperger’s syndrome," a mild form of autism)? There is not enough historical evidence to say. Probably Albert was simply a thoughtful and somewhat shy child. If he had some difficulties in school, the problem was probably resistance to the authoritarian German teachers, perhaps compounded by the awkward situation of a Jewish boy in a Catholic school.

Einstein in the Bern patent office

Einstein when his light bending theory conformed


Einstein in Berlin with political figures

Einstein in aBerlin synagogue in 1930, playing his violin for a charity concert.

The Solvay Congress of 1927

E = MC^2


POSTWAR SIGNING

Einstein in his study in his home in Berlin, 1919.



Einstein at his home in Princeton, New Jersey


signature of the legend