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What one has not experienced, one will never understand in print.

quote by Isodore Duncan
Added by Lucian Velea
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Are You Experienced?

If you can just get your mind together
Uh-then come on across to me
Well hold hands and then well watch the sunrise
From the bottom of the sea
But first, are you experienced?
Uh-have you ever been experienced-uh?
Well, I have
(well) I know, I know, youll probably scream and cry
That your little world wont let you go
But who in your measly little world, (-uh)
Are you tryin to prove to that youre
Made out of gold and-uh, cant be sold
So-uh, are you experienced?
Have you ever been experienced? (-uh)
Well, I have
Uh, let me prove it to you, yeah
Trumpets and violins I can-uh, hear in the distance
I think theyre callin our name
Maybe now you cant hear them,
But you will, ha-ha, if you just
Take hold of my hand
Ohhh, but are you experienced?
Have you ever been experienced?
Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful

song performed by Jimi Hendrix
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Jumper

I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you dont belong
Youre the first to fight
Youre way too loud
Youre the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know somethings wrong
Well everyone I know has got a reason
To say put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
Well hes on the table and hes gone to code
And I do not think anyone knows
What theyre doing here
And your friends have left you
Youve been dismissed
I never thought it would come to this
And i, I want you to know
Everyones got to face down the demons
Maybe today
You could put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that youve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
Understand
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Can you put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
And I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
I would understand

song performed by Third Eye Blind
Added by Lucian Velea
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We Understand Each Other

We understand each other
Bull!
You hear some distant drummer play
I think we understand each other
Have you no else to offer?
Poor boy!
I have expenses to defray
I hope we understand each other
We have a problem
Yes, but its not that we
Dont understand each other
Oh brother!
When they say understand
They gotta mean fairyland
For twenty tons of silver
She sold him into stir
And when it gets his freedom back
He throws it away over her
When he says understand
He must mean some other girl
Ill never comprehend
My putrid taste in men
Its not fair I love
Each little hair and he
Dont even care about me
When she says understand
Must mean some other man
Our preconceptions to retain
Were obliged to exclaim
We understand each other
We hear some distant drummer play
Must mean we understand each other
Oh brother!
If theres a problem
Well admit it
Not that we dont understand each other
Each other
When they say understand
Its like wendy and peter pan
Have you ever met somebody
More self-involved than he?
This has got to be a miracle
The man has divine empathy
What could be wrong with me?
I know his repartee
Insincere
Hes down
There, Im up here
But whenever hes near
Its some kind of divine empathy

[...] Read more

song performed by Todd Rundgren
Added by Lucian Velea
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Not Wanting To Forget

The Modigliani print was on the wall
By the front door. Who’s she? Bridshaw’s
Dame asked, pointing at the print.
It’s a painting by Modigliani, Bridshaw said.
Is he a friend of yours? The dame asked.
Bridshaw pulled a face and said, No, he’s
Dead now. Shame, she replied, stroking
The print, her finger tracing the woman’s
Outline, her tongue hanging out of the side
Of her mouth in concentration. She’s a bit
On the thin side, the dame said, and I don’t
Like the black coat she’s wearing, like some
Darn widow. Bridshaw wanted to get the dame
In bed for sex; the Modigliani print was no
Big deal, he’d bought it in some art shop on
The high street from the guy with the Boston
Tones. Shame he’s dead, the dame said, he
Could have painted me; I would have made
A good model, more meat on me than that
Woman in black, thin as a pole. Bridshaw
Nodded his head, Sure, sure, but you’re too
Late, the guy’s dead, now can we move on,
Get a drink, hit the bed, have sex, and then
A cigarette. Sure, the dame said, moving away
From the Modigliani print, taking the image
Of the woman with her, not wanting to forget.

poem by Terry Collett
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Handles Bermuda

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Soccer Rollback

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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They don't understand

They don't understand,
What its like to be me.
They don't understand,
Why school is hard for me.
They don't understand,
Why I'm so skinny.
They don't understand,
Why I have no friends.

They don't understand,
What I need.
They don't understand,
Why I lie.
They don't understand,
Why life is hard.
They don't understand,
What life is like for me.
They don't understand,
Why I hurt.
They don't understand,
Why I have fears.
They don't understand,
Why I'm different.

I don't understand,
Why they don't like me.
I don't understand,
Why they don't except me.
I don't understand,
What they say.
I don't understand,
Why they don't undersatnd,
Me...

poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Added by Poetry Lover
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fingertips

Everything is catching
Yes, everything is catching on fire
(everythings catching on fire)
Everything is catching on fire (everythings catching on fire)
Fingertips
Fingertips
Fingertips
I hear the wind blow
I hear the wind blow
It seems to say, hello, hello,
Im the one who loves you so.
Hey now everybody now
Hey now everybody
Hey now everybody now
Whos that standing out my window?
I found a new friend
Underneath my pillow
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Come on and wreck my car (come on)
Arent you the guy who hit me in the eye?
Arent you the guy who hit me in the eye?
Please pass the milk, please
Please pass the milk, please
Please pass the milk, please
Leave me alone, leave me alone
Whos knocking on the wall?
All alone all alone
All by myself
Whats that blue thing doing here?
Something grabbed ahold of my hand
I didnt know what had my hand
But thats when all my troubles began
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I just dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I dont understand the things you say
I cant understand a single word
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I just dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I cannot understand you (I dont understand you)
I dont understand you (I dont understand you)
I heard a sound, I turned around
I turned around to find the thing
That made the sound
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
Mysterious whisper
The day that love came to play

[...] Read more

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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How Can It Hurt

(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
Maybe youre just too upset inside to give it to me straight
Maybe youve become too angry and too close to crying to say anything I can understand
Or maybe youre just coming in over my head
Maybe youre just too upset inside too upset inside
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
Youre never gonna square with me I know so what is there to say?
Theres a million words that we could share tonight
Why do you walk away?
And I could write you off and its over with like a damaged car I cant afford to fix
But everything inside me wants to heal your pain
You wont explain
You wont explain
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt if I dont understand
How can it hurt, how can it hurt
Well I dont understand
Well I dont understand
Tell me how can it hurt
Well I dont understand
Tell me how can it hurt
Well I dont understand

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ugo Print

On Lake Avenue, there is a business owner named Que.

He owns Ugo Print and he has a great crew.

His crew develops, creates and makes a new

your brochures, business cards and letterhead too.

Ugo Print took my artwork and enlarged it for a fair price,

better then Fed Ex, and staff is really nice.

Business cards of mine where printed with a great format,

Ugo Print made it great I can vouch for that.

Embroidery and screen printing Ugo does as well,

they are a full range printing company that does sell,

sell direct mail that makes your business boom,

print with Que who is exceptional and his employees too.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on September 8,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com

poem by Christina Sunrise
Added by Poetry Lover
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Something Happened

Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad
Something happened, you don't hear about
Oh, please that never did before
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad, oh
I never saw this on TV
I never read it in no book
ahh
Something happened
I just don't understand
hey, baby, something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad
I thought I knew a lot of things
but I don't know a thing, oh, oh, oh
Something happened
I just don't understand
The things I hear and see
don't seem the same
The things I touch and feel
are forever changed
I've never felt this way before
and I hope I never do again
Something happened
I don't know why or when
oh, something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo
something happened
Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo
something happened

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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History

I wander lonely streets
I wander lonely streets
Behind where the old thames does flow
Behind where the old thames does flow
And in every face I meet
And in every face I meet
Reminds me of what I have run from
Reminds me of what I have run from
In every man, in every hand
In every man, in every hand
In every kiss, you understand
In every kiss, you understand
That living is for other men
That living is for other men
I hope you two will understand
I hope you two will understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
Of how I loved and how I failed
Ive got to tell you my tale
I hope you understand
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
Ive got to tell you my tale
These feelings should not be in the man
Of how I loved and how I failed
I hope you understand
In every child, in every eye
These feelings should not be in the man
In every sky, above my head
I hope that I know
So come with me in bed
In every child, in every eye
Because its you and me, were history
In every sky, above my head
There aint nothing left to say
I hope that I know
When I will get you alone
So come with me in bed
Because its you and me, were history
Maybe we could find a room
There aint nothing left to say
Where we could see what we should do
When I will get you alone
Maybe you know its true
Living with me is like keeping a fool
Maybe we could find a room
In every man, in every hand

[...] Read more

song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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They Come To Go

These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.

They can be discussed on a daily basis.
Or ignored as they speed away.
These days that we have been given to witness,
Will be better off lived...
Then reminiscing how they were,
And what was done.

Too many will discover themselves lost,
In the things they once did.
And not prepare their minds for what comes,
With maintained faith and not delusions.

These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited.

Especially when those changes made,
Aren't here to stay for anyone.
They come to go.
With no empathy shown,
To those who don't grow.

For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
And fixed to keep them revisited...
To live and adjust as they must.
Will discover all their beliefs,
Dusted.

These times are moving too rapidly,
For anyone to perceive they can keep moments...
Once experienced from a past preserved.
To remain unchanged.
Whether or not attempts are made,
To hold onto them as tightly as possible.
A letting go,
Is the best thing to do to experience growth.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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You Have Not Yet Learned How To Live

Look not do I,
For your attention.
And giving is for me,
Something that I naturally do.

I am not seeking anything,
To receive an expectation of respect.
If I get it I get it.
But I do know what's for me is true.
I do know what's for me is best.

I want to see you happy.
To see you smile,
Is my gift from you.
I want to see you happy.
And If I am guilty of that...
That explains your attitude.

I've already experienced the affects,
Of being selfish...
And learning lessons from it.
I've already experienced a self centeredness.
To believe I was the beginning...
With a power to see,
What I wished to end next.

And I thank God,
For showing me how I was blessed.
By teaching me WHO and WHAT truly ruled.
With a taking away from me,
What I most loved as a test.
Dear friends and family were taken away.
Until I thought I was also going to lose my breath.

I've already experienced the affects,
Of being selfish...
And learning lessons from it.
I've already experienced a self centeredness.
To believe I was the beginning...
With a power to see,
What I wished to end next.

And after learning painful lessons,
That did not take me long to get.
I know that it is in the giving.
And not living with a mind filled with selfishness.

I want to see you happy.
To see you smile,
Is my gift from you.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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You Don't Come

You don't come. Your absence is a guillotine. My heart
plummets from the altitude it risked in looking forward
to a day with you outside of time and circumstance, jumps
from the edge of paradise, the flat earth, the back
of a winged horse. You don't come and such
is the nature of love
I go out of the plane not knowing
if I've got a parachute on and my heart
pulls the rip cord to see if there's any salvation in the fall,
any flowers for me in the bag, morning glory
or dandelion seed, or this is just another
mode of acceleration to death. You don't come
and my heart candles without a reserve,
I haven't packed a spare dawn
and though I will make every effort to understand
there's a grave waiting down below like an open mouth
and the void is laughing at the persistent folly
of my believing you would come,
and my fear of not being worthy of love anymore
sends my mendicant self-image out
wandering over thirteenth century Europe like some flagellant
on a pilgrimage of flogging, ribbons of blood running down my back
from salted wounds, and though I know
the expectation and the disappointment are both delusions,
birdshit on the claws of a sphinx, and I will try to be
intelligent and wise about the whole thing,
tugging my heart out like a garbage-scow into deep space
where it will be laced with explosives and scuttled once again,
and I will be awarded another paradoxical brownie-badge
by another scout-master Tibetan rinpoche
for knowing how to survive alone in this empty wilderness,
a tiger of will, a Viking of resolve,
an aging clown without children or laughter, a jester-king
officiating from the throneless butt of his own joke,
a poet with nothing to praise, a painter
with cataracts in the eye and flowers in the sky, I
know there is nothing I can tell myself, no spiritual weed
I can poultice over the vacancy that goes on forever
to draw out the infection from my heart, the gangrene
from the broken pillar of the foolish temple I erected
to serve the goddess in any of her lunar phases,
and though I struggle like a diminished thing to accept my dejection,
to imbibe the toxins from the left tit of the Medusa
while trying not to turn into stone, while trying
not to avert my eyes from this crone-form of the moon, let
Kali drink my blood, in the name of insight, clarity and courage,
good wolf, I know this, too, is delusion, another
projected holograph from the third eye of the pineal gland,
and kick the chair from under
the useless fruit of my head in a noose. Back to earth

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
Added by Poetry Lover
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