It's one thing to have talent. It's another to figure out how to use it.
quote by Roger Miller
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Hidden Talent
Written by gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
Just like a person from another world
My eyes can see inside you, little girl
I see things that you dont want to see
I see things youre trying to hide from me
Im just trying to make you understand
All the ways you can affect this man
From the moment that you came in touch
With the power there to burn so much
Youve got hidden talent (yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
You know your past is whats been bugging you
If youre ready girl ... do what you gotta do
Look for your life between the lines
Bad directions and poor designs
Youve got hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Check it out you ... got it, hidden talent, oh
With the advantage of perspective i
See theres more to you than meets the eye
But now the time must come to spread your wings and fly
Yeah (hidden talent) yeah
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Check it out ... you got it, hidden talent, oh
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
Affair without warning
Hidden talent, mmm (mmm)
Hidden talent (hidden talent, yeah)
I bet youre gonna find some hidden talent, oh
(fade)
song performed by America
Added by Lucian Velea
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Your Face Among Many, A Blossom
Your face among many, a blossom.
Let it go. Let it go. Let it go.
The sun can't understand why it can't
open the buds of the parking meters.
Some people worry they don't have talent.
Given a name, who isn't a masterpiece?
A perfect self-portrait of what they're becoming?
Talent, the worst superstition of all.
That lullaby you sing to your voodoo doll
at bedtime, to let her know she's special
when, in fact, she's blind. Talent.
That estranged mix of an eclipse and an oilslick
that isn't sure of its standing in life.
Sensible shoes wishing they had wings on their heels.
The redundant navigator of mountain streams
that would have found their own way to the river
all by themselves. You ask if I think you have talent.
To me that's like a flower asking
if I think it will ever come to bloom,
a star wondering if it's shining or not,
a sea uncertain of its own waves and weather.
And I say, your eyes do, your ears do, your mouth has,
these birch-trees, those starlings, that tree, those rocks,
these rags of last year's flowers do, but not you.
On the day of creation when God exhausted herself
using up the leftovers of her inspiration
so as not to let anything go to waste, she pinched the noses
of a few sacred clowns and instead of
breathing life into their lungs, she opened their throats
and poured a special esoteric elixir of talent,
the mother of all oceanic love potions
that ever played favourites with a select few
among everyone she'd ever given birth to,
out of her mouth into theirs, such that like her
all they had to do, they were so talented,
was give the word. Say be. And it was.
Because the moment you ask if you have something,
you've already lost it. Like space or time or mind,
talent isn't possessed. It's made manifest spontaneously.
Do you see the ruby throated hummingbirds
in a last duel with the thorns
of the locust trees in blossom,
one drawing blood, the other, first honey?
Behind every river making its way to the sea
stands the cornerstone of a mountain
buried under an avalanche
it brought down upon itself
like the winter solstice
between the dolmens of Stonehenge,
just as every dropp of water is a lost key,
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
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Believe It Or Not
Believe it or not, everyone, have things that they hide
Believe it or not, everyone, keep most things inside
Believe it or not, everyone, believes in something above
Believe it or not, everyone, needs to feel loved
Feel loved, but we don't and we won't until we figure out
Could someone deliver us, and send some kind of sign
So close to giving up, 'cause faith is so hard to find
But you don't and you won't, until we figure out
Seen it or not, every time, the world turns upside down
Believe it or not, most of us, feel like we're losing ground
Believe it or not, everyone, hate admitting fear
Believe it or not, most of us, wanna know why we're here
Why we're here, but we don''t and we won't until we figure out
Could someone deliver us, and send some kind of sign
So close to giving up, 'cause faith is so hard to find
Someone deliver us, and send some kind of sign
So close to giving up, 'cause faith is so hard to find
But you're young and you won't, until we figure out
Most of us have nothing to complain about
Most of us have things we could live without
Everyone needs advice on how to get along
You know we won't until we figure out
[Instrumental]
Believe it or not everyone
Believe it or not, everyone, have things that they hide
Believe it or not, everyone, keep most things inside
Believe it or not, everyone, believe in something above
Believe it or not, everyone, needs to feel loved
Feel loved, well we don't and we won't until we figure out
Could someone deliver us, and send some kind of sign
So close to giving up, 'cause faith is so hard to find
Someone deliver us, and send some kind of sign
So close to giving up, 'cause faith is so hard to find
But you're young and you won't, until we figure out
You're young and you won't, until we figure out
song performed by Nickelback
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Thirteenth
I
I now mean to be serious; -- it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
II
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('T is an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain -- which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
III
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 't is in request,
'T is nonsense to dispute about a hue --
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain woman.
IV
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 't is time to give the younger place.
V
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('Tis an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain - which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 'tis in request,
'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue -
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there 's a plain woman.
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 'tis time to give the younger place.
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.
And is there not religion, and reform,
Peace, war, the taxes, and what's call'd the 'Nation'?
The struggle to be pilots in a storm?
The landed and the monied speculation?
The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm,
[...] Read more
Eyes Of Mr D (Part 5)
Mr D took off his glasses,
and raised his white cane.
He struck the dark figure,
hard with the crook of the handle
in the middle of the back.
The dark figure bends backwards
revealing his mask of death.
Quickly he recovered and twisted around.
He went to strike out at Mr D,
who hooked the white cane
around one leg and pulled.
The dark figure with the mask of death
fell upon the ground.
He pulled a blade from his pocket
that glinted under the moonlight.
Mr D used the cane again
to knock the blade from his hand
into the dark waters of the lake.
The sound of sirens and blue lights filled the air.
The figure with the mask of death
tried his best to flee.
Mr D went after him.
He ran onto the wooden bridge.
Mr D caught him there.
They struggled with each other,
one getting the upper hand for a moment,
then the other.
Mr D finally hit him with his fist.
The figure spun and stumbled against the wooden guardrail.
The rail snapped under the sudden weight.
Into the dark waters,
the figure plunged and disappeared below.
Mr D came off the bridge
moments before the police arrived.
It was over now he said to himself.
The pretty woman waited there for him.
She looked, smiled, and held her hand out
to the man who saved her life.
“How did you know? ” she asked.
“My eyes told me it was going to happen.”
He then went on to explain.
When they were allowed to leave,
they left hand in hand.
“I don’t know your name.” She said,
“And here you save my life.”
He smiled. “Are you sure you want to know? ”
She nodded.
“My name is Henry De Ath,
[...] Read more
poem by David Harris
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Picture-Writing
In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
"Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
"On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
"Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others."
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Song Of Hiawatha XIV: Picture-Writing
In those days said Hiawatha,
'Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
'Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
'On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
'Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others.'
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Can Not Stop
I can not...
And will not stop,
Or drop
My affair with love.
I can not stop,
To figure out 'why'
This affair came,
To start this love!
This feeling felt is healing.
It appeals to what I'm needing.
And I can not drop,
Or stop to figure out...
My affair to have this love!
I can not...
And will not stop,
Or drop
My affair with love.
I can not stop,
To figure out 'why'
This affair came,
To start this love!
This feeling felt is healing.
It appeals to what I'm needing.
And I can not drop,
Or stop to figure out...
My affair to have this love!
And I can not drop,
Or stop to figure out...
My affair to have this love!
This feeling felt is healing.
It appeals to what I'm needing.
And I can not drop,
Or stop to figure out...
My affair to have this love!
I will not stop,
To figure out 'why'
I should drop...
My affair with love!
I can not...
And will not stop,
Or drop
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In figure skating
In figure skating its the small triumphs that matter the most.
When you can't get back all the time lost.
I had a lot of fun landing an axel.
To me it was almost felt like landing a triple axel.
I know it was only a small triumph but to me it was wonderful.
I never was able to get many hours of practice.
I did my best on the ice.
All figure skaters work hard to have patience.
They may never know if they will recieve their biggest
or smallest triumph.
Even If I went back and landed a triple axel.
I would still look back fondly on my small triumph.
To be honest though the axel to me is my greatest triumph.
An axel was like setting myself free.
If your thinking that small triumphs are great.
I would love to agree.
In figure skating people are always coming and going.
Not many of them get to experience the power of jumping.
Some of them will never know.
An axel feels like a bird or plane flying.
A lot of them will never come back because of the fear of falling.
So anyones triumph could be not quiting.
The smallest triumphs should never be put down because this is
a figure skaters very beginning.
Every figure skaters story deserves to be told.
Even if they never won an olympic or any type of gold.
A figure skater must have joy or her sport will get old.
So please don't underestimate small triumphs in figure skating.
poem by Lyda Mery
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There are two kinds of talent, man-made talent and God-given talent. With man-made talent you have to work very hard. With God-given talent, you just touch it up once in a while.
quote by Pearl Bailey
Added by Lucian Velea
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The first thing they were told was how to hone their talent. Then they were told how to market their talent, discipline their talent and type their talent. And then they were told they might as well forget about talent.
quote by Esther B. Fein
Added by Lucian Velea
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Man On Wire! !
Man on wire! !
An act like magic,
With explosive fantasies;
To set the records with his talent.
Of your talent,
Of my talent,
With ideas,
With your life,
With my life,
To the people,
And, to reach to the clouds! !
To reach to the top,
To expose your talent,
Wire, tire, lire, quire, ire, mire;
But, love can help you know your name.
Man on wire! !
To the clouds,
To the stars!
To stage a walk,
But, take my life and take me for what i am.
Zaire, shire, hire, dire, fire!
Moral, loyal, royal, oral, coral, floral, rural;
Man on wire! !
All in the name of his talent for us to see.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Talent Fights Talent, Ego Fights Ego
God is supreme, creation of people! !
Supreme people create god supreme!
Where is the beginning and end of the logic?
Mind breaks, in heart fear creates!
Does supreme man create mind, heart and fear?
Spontaneous, natural and automatic! !
Talent breaks talent, logic devours logic!
One talent creates the dyke
How to demolish it, is busy working mine
Everything is within the mind, nothing is out side it!
People is the supreme, you say the truth!
I am the supreme working to make it untruth.
Really! really! things are spontaneous, natural and automatic!
Ego fights ego, talent fights talent, logic devours logic!
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Talent
Have you ever felt like you can't do anything?
Or maybe, more, you can't do anything well?
LIke everything you do is just to par,
No steep above anyone,
And always a step behind the next.
Pen against paper,
Just turns words and thoughts into something expected,
Paint against canvas,
Just turns colors into an elementary picture.
Setting to work with expectations, only to have them broken.
Or maybe even you do something well,
Or are told that you do,
And all of a sudden it, too, becomes par.
A mundane activity that changes no minds, nor lives,
Neither impresses, nor leaves impressions.
This is how I feel,
Torn apart by everything I do,
And the nothing I do well.
Left in a world of talent,
Only to realize I have none if my own.
If one were to ask me,
'what is your talent? '
I would think for a moment,
Then, I would reply,
'My talent is non talent'
I recognize talent in others,
I recognize their deserve of praise,
And it makes me happy,
But then I remember,
I have nothing to show them.
I long for something to show the world,
To open peoples' minds to beauty and art,
Yet, slowly, everyday I begin to see;
I will never be the entertainer,
Just, merely, the entertained.
By: Bethany Maxwell
©2012
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 25)
‘The Heaven’s kingdom is like ten
Virgins, who took their lamps to meet,
The bridegroom in his wedding feast;
Five were foolish but five were wise.’
‘The foolish ones went with their lamps,
Which had no oil in them at all;
The wise ones also took their lamps,
Along with oil to use in flasks.’
‘The bridegroom came a bit delayed;
The virgins felt drowsy and slept;
A cry was heard at midnight loud,
‘Behold, the bridegroom comes, meet Him! ’
The virgins woke and trimmed their lamps;
The foolish ones then asked the wise,
‘Spare us some oil to keep lamps on.’
The wise ones then replied, ‘Sorry,
We need the oil for our own lamps;
It may not be enough for both;
Go to the merchant shop and buy.’
While foolish virgins went to buy,
The bridegroom came during that time;
The ones ready, accompanied him;
The wedding hall’s door was then locked.’
The other virgins then arrived;
They cried, ‘Lord, Lord, open the door! ’
The bridegroom but replied, ‘Amen,
I say to you, I know you not! ’
‘So, stay awake for, you know not
The day, nor hour when bridegroom comes! ’
‘A man who went on a journey,
To all his servants, gave money,
As per each one’s ability.’
‘He gave five talents to the first;
Two talents to the servant next;
One talent only, to the last,
And went away immediately! ’
‘The one who got five talents made,
Another five talents by trade;
The one who had two talents too
Likewise had made another two;
[...] Read more
poem by John Celes
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Begend
I tell a legend I once heard
Of a race called mankind, no more heard
Placed in time that told and sang
To all who heard and they which were
This is the end of a tale begun
The time, that time began to sing his song
A song of snow and broadway shows
Telling the tale of a tree called Know
Which Adam through Eve through the serpent came to know
And in due course came to show
All they had come to know
To know the art of breaking life and hearts
Then the acts that breaks God's heart
To know the murder act and evil more
Cain killed Abel hence killed himself forevermore
A sword lived by, a sword killed by
Time named history and sadly money swings by
Sings and strings his violin strings
Hoping the lyrics of his song will pull the heartstrings
Of the noblest beast of nature's field
Of the cruelest beast of nature's field
Of a race embedded with treasures yet Seek the treasures that nature's left
A talent within exceeds the talent of gold without
A talent of gold could buy you bread without a doubt
Just like a dollar could brighten your cloud
The talent is hidden in a talent(dollar) shroud
A talented man with a chair, his mouth, his head and heart and guitar
Sat and sang and received talents of gold to buy his house
To buy his cars, feed his wife and hungry mouse
All called him great who were greats untapped
A song of rain and lonely nights
A song of pain and few respites
A tale of a race filled with guilty shadows
A race that raced against itself in a race that destroyed the race fellows
Because they thought God shouldn't have made rainbows
A race called mankind should have one colour
Why had he made them in different skin hues
The shades that ran from black to you
That's what knowing makes you think
That you know more than he who makes you think
A tale of love that transcends hues
The weaker sex through time subdued
Subdued the stronger sex as time ensued
Breath in, breath out, make your sentences
Give, receive, ask photosynthesis
Receive, don't give, break the synthesis
The synthesis of a man and a woman
Soaked with deceit, and a cheating pair
A tale of love broken by who got caught first
The only line that separates black from white
[...] Read more
poem by Jenim Dibie
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Show Me How To Live
In with the early dawn
Moving right along
I couldnt buy an eye of sleep
And in the aching night
Under satellite
I was not recieved
With the stolen parts
A telephone in my heart
Someone get me a priest
To put my mind to bed
This ringing in my head
Is this a cure is or is this a disease
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
In the afterbirth
On the quiet earth
Let this things remind me
You thought you made amend
You better think again
Before my row defines you
Hey hey I said
Near as I an figure
You gave me life now show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
And in your waiting hands
I will land
And roll out of my skin
And in your final hours I will stand
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Ready to begin
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Hey hey I said
Near as I can figure
You gave me life now
Show me how to live
Show me how to live
[...] Read more
song performed by Audioslave
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Dont Think Im Every Gonna Figure It Out
I can wait
I can wait
I can sit wondering what in world you think about
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
After all the alchohol, the pretty words that devolve down
To slurs and drunken shouts
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
Its like some wild last frontier
You never know what kind of fights gonna appear
That once begun cant be won
Started out losing already and go all ten rounds
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
The tired hits that fall below
I cant connect, yeah yeah I know
I can wait
I can wait
I can sit wondering what in the world you think about
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
I dont think Im ever gonna figure it out
song performed by Elliott Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Figured You Out
I like your pants around your feet
I like the dirt that's on your knees
I like the way you still say please
While you're looking up at me
You're like my favourite damn disease
I love the places that we go
I love the people that you know
I love the way you can't say no
Too many long lines in a row
I love the powder on your nose
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
I like the freckles on your chest
I like the way you like me best
I like the way you're not impressed
While you put me to the test
I like the wine stains on your dress
I love the way you pass the check
I love the good times that you wreck
I love your lack of self respect
While you're passed out on the deck
I love my hands around your neck
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
I like your pants around your feet
I like the dirt that's on your knees
I like the way you still say please
While you're looking up at me
You're like my favourite damn disease
I hate the places that we go
I hate the people that you know
I hate the way you can't say no
Too many long lines in a row
I hate the powder on your nose
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
And now I know who you are
It wasn't that hard
Just to figure you out
song performed by Nickelback
Added by Lucian Velea
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