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I don't think I could have written what I did any earlier.

quote by Terry Goodkind
Added by Lucian Velea
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Written In Rock

On my way back from a wedding
I drove round some of the old streets
I got swept up by the memories
Of cold nights and warm sheets
I parked outside the house wed lived in
I tried to think of all the pain
But all I remembered was the laughter
And the precious trust we cant reclaim
There are no second prizes
And there will be no consolation wreath
We may as well miss by a mile
As miss by the skin of our teeth
They all thought we were some sure thing
I had the bloody coat and wedding ring
But nothings written in rock
I know Im not the one
Was I just the great pretender
Written in rock
There was no battle won
Only a mutual surrender
No guarantees, thats alright
If I was gonna stay,
I would have stayed all night
Bye bye love, you were so damn right
Nothings written in rock
Nothings written in rock
You finally learned the deep dark secret
That I knew you were waiting for
So I watched the death of innocence
Of the young dreamer at lifes door
This world can tear your soul to pieces
If you give it half a chance
There are no rules to remember
There are no written steps to the dance
I dont believe in fate
I dont believe in blind luck of the draw
I dont believe in love
I mean I dont believe anymore
They all thought we were the real thing
I had the bloody coat and the wedding ring
But nothings written in rock
I know Im not the one
Was I just the great pretender
Written in rock
There was no battle won
Only a mutual surrender
No guarantees, thats alright
If I was gonna stay,
I would have stayed all night
Bye bye love, you were so damn right

[...] Read more

song performed by Rick Springfield
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Sugar We're Going Down

Am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
(A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
Is this more than you bargained for yet
Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
(Notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
[x2]
Down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down (down, down)
Down, down (down, down)
We're going down, down (down, down)
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it

song performed by Fall Out Boy
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For It Is Written

It is written says it best for the words written have stood the test.
While enduring the test of time it exposes God's Sovereign Design.
Prophecy sets The Word apart pointing to the end from the very start.
The Word you can't belittle as there's truth in every jot and tittle.

My dear friend it is written: Zeal for your house will consume me,
And The Lord cleared the temple of all money changing Pharisees.
It is written: These people honor me but their hearts are far from me,
And many religious people you see are filled with empty hypocrisy.
It is written: God’s name is blasphemed by Gentiles because of you,
And an empty zeal without knowledge is in the heart of many Jews.

It is written: Those who were not told, they will see and understand,
And that is why the Gentile Nations have accepted The Son of Man.
It is written: I lay in Zion a rock that causes men to stumble and fall,
And that rock, my friend, is Jesus Christ The Lord and God above all.
To Abraham it is written: I have made you the Father of many Nations.
Is it any wonder that through the Jew we have been afforded Salvation?

My friend, it is written: There is no one righteous, not even one.
And God so loved us that He sent to the world His Only begotten Son.
For it is written: In the Gospel a righteousness from God is revealed,
And that righteousness is Christ by whose wounds we have been healed.
My friend it is written: Cursed is everyone who is hung on a tree,
And Christ became that curse as He died on the cross for you and me.

And friend it is written: He was numbered with the transgressors,
And Christ died with criminals at the hands of angry oppressors.
It is written: The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me,
And all of man’s hostility towards God was laid on Christ at Calvary.
It is written: I’ll strike the shepherd and the flock will be scattered,
And the disciples left at the cross seeing Christ so sorely battered.

The Word of God can't be denied as God alone is The Father of Time.
Christ stands outside the window of time guiding His Eternal Design.
Time for God truly stands still as God fulfills His Sovereign Will.
Scoffing tongues will be stilled as every jot and tittle is fulfilled.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Cursed (story)

I am Bill.I live with my brother, my dad, mom and my lil sis.There's always this thing that bothers my mind..it's because i believe that my mom and sis already died.It was almost a yearago yet not that old to be forgotten.our house was burnt for unknown reason.They we're found dead on the room i was staying.Burned, yet there's still mystery upon their death.

I can barely remember that i see mere smoke and huge fire.i was just 7 yet my mind works as if i was not.After the tragic happenings the ocean made noise and i saw a huge wave comming towards our direction.Crowds of neigbors, the police, the rescuers and even i, my lil bro and dad run away.

our house was swallowed by that huge wave.After that i don't know what else happened.I hear my dad yell and my lil bro crying.I see blurry lights and hear the sirens.I was asleep! am i? i see the lights striking in my eyelids yet i can not see any image.i hear the sound of waves smashing unto rocks then i'm

shocked to reality i'm just sitting on the deck before the emergency room in the city hospital.I was wonderin' what i'm doin' there but 'twas just a couple'o seconds when i saw my lil bro and dad walked out the emergency room, smiling and waved on me.My dad shouted com'mon bill let's go home.okey, well my dad's calling me.Gotta go!

i really don't know what happened but as we go back to where our house was build it was still there standing steady and strong.I looked around i saw our neighbor's house burnt.and i said' oh, bla bla i really don't know what's happening! ' and asked dad 'dad i thought it was our house burned? '

and as i always hear from him dad answered in a huge voice 'what? are you out of your mind? '

then i heared a soft voice saying 'John, let him rest.Maybe he's hallucinating.he's from kelly's house beside the shore.we all knew it's almost impossible for him to survive that huge fire.'

my pores closed, my spines shivered..and my heart pumped fast...

i shouted' who's that'? ... MOM?

and the voice answered 'yes dear.'

my dad then said' LEt's took him to the doctor, maybe the accident affected his mind too.'

'but DAD! ! , Mom and tricia died already! '

he answered: 'That's not funny bill! if yu're thinking this is the right time to crack pranks.well ITS NOT! ! ..Go to your room! ! '

'but DAD? '!

'NO buts, go to your room.NOW! '

okey, it seems like i really am hallucinating..maybe i came over kelly's house and caused fire and cause of the pressure and i was so scared that i would be charged for the accident i run out of my consciousness..yeah..maybe that's what happened..

[...] Read more

poem by Ellirie Aviles
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Into The Happy New Year (Catena Rondo)

There was some rain earlier in this dark night,
outside rockets again do whoosh and thump
in through the open window the cat jumps,
there was some rain earlier in this dark night;

outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
dogs bark in fear, howl hysteric outside my room
outside rockets continually whoosh and thump,

crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
while the brand New Year is now rushing on,
crackers go bam, bam, ka-boom and ka-boom

and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
a new message my cell-phone indicate
and it is old year’s day that’s almost gone,

at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate
while they jollily loudly dance and sing
and with their music my ears do ring
at half-past eleven the neighbours celebrate

while they jollily loudly dance and sing
as if the New Year does hold something great
and not a moment longer they can wait,
while they jollily loudly dance and sing

as if the New Year does hold something great;
very later things quiet somewhat down
and in sleep I am coming to my own,
as if the New Year does hold something great

very later things quiet somewhat down
until at three a car hoots across the street
as if it wants the neighbourhood to meet,
very later things quiet somewhat down

until at three a car hoots across the street,
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,
the dogs, the cat and I get some rest
until at three a car hoots across the street,

as if all my resolutions and patience to test
before a thunderbolt crashes electric blue,
blazing at my eyes with its terrible white hue
as if all my resolutions and patience to test,

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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It's written in here/Ovdje pise

It's written in here all that hurts
it's written in here all that laughs
it's written in here all that wants
it's written in here all that waits
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all

it's written in here butterflies in heart
it's written in here all dresses torn
it's written in here twilight and dawn
it's written in here clocks in the soul
it's written in here in every tear
it's written in here read beneath
or do not read at all

ovdje piše sve što boli
ovdje piše sve što se smije
ovdje piše sve što hoće
ovdje piše sve što čeka
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne ćitaj uopšte

ovdje piše leptiri u srcu
ovdje piše rašivene halje
ovdje piše zore i sutoni
ovdje piše satovi u duši
ovdje piše u svakoj suzi
ovdje piše čitaj ispod
ili ne čitaj uopšte

2009.

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Birthday Sonnet - Entered is Diary

Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests.
.
Acrostic: Verse in which certain letters form a word or message
Polyacrostic: Several acrostics within the same composition
Acrostics to be found below – in alphabetical order:
His hand her hand [twice vertically]
Entered in diary [twice vertically]
Tend a nice heart [3 times vertically] – hopefully not an ice heart
Tender is her heart [4 times diagonally]

Palimpsest: A manuscript on which more than one text is written
with earlier writing, or one level of meaning, partially visible.

Polyacrostic Palimpsest - Birthday Sonnet - Entered is Diary

Toast verse! Oh birthday sonnet that strings true
E'er stanza knit free style, link in tress kind.
None letters scan - no need since star none find -
Deeds reader here disdains, nor head dreams cue.
Art secret exam, chart, restore rare value
Nowhere shrine is named, rich tune ornate designed,
Indeed is hidden within, bis gladdening behind
Covers is meshed, scored, missed, hid, scudding through
End verse. Here lines share where none spot the clue.
Hope endowed, read Heaven's clear. Add here's signed
Erudition's rheme eked out blur, he ideas twined.
Annals are read as announced Dear, a part eschew.
Reward - roses near - reveals her in mirror bright.
To show you ardour triumphs in today's top write.

Toastverseohbirthdaysonnetthatstringstrue
Eerstanzaknitfreestylelinkintresskind
None lettersscannoneedsincestarnonefind
Deedsreader heredisdainsnorheaddreamscue
Artsecretexamchar trestorerarevalue
Nowhereshrineisnamedrichtune ornatedesigned
Indeedishiddenwithinbisgladdeni ngbehind
Coversismeshedscoredmissedhidscudding through
Endverseherelinessharewheresofewspotcl ue
HopeendowedreadheavensclearaddheressignedEruditionsrhemeekedoutblurheideastwined
Anna lsarereadasannounceddearaparteschew.
Rewardros esnearrevealsherinmirrorbright
Toshowyouardour triumphsintodaystopwrite

© Jonathan Robin polyacrostic palimpsest sonnet written 20081126 see also Birthday Mirror Below

Notes on Polyacrostic Palimpsests.
.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Lord said that the “I” in you is really me

The me in me is quite troublesome
And I know all the problems
I face is because this me
It has been a longing desire of mine
To get rid of this me

I said one day to Krishna
Let all my prayers I have offered to you
Help me getting a grant from you
Krishna said
Say that and it will be granted based on its merit

Krishna, I need only one thing
I do not require anything materialistic
My requirement is you yourself
I request you to occupy me
Totally vacating “me” from me
And you will take care of
Everything happening around me

Krishna did not answer
But, said
Hold on, your demand is quite on the higher side
Anyway I will consider it
Presently I am occupying someone else
And so I am not free to move into thee

Turning curious, I asked Krishna
Who is he and where is he?

Krishna made a smile
Did not answer and vanished

Days, weeks, months, years went by
I have been talking to Krishna all through
But I did not hear him saying a thing

The other day
I did call on Krishna
And renewed my demand
This time Krishna responded
Hi do you not know
That I have already occupied you
And I only am running things around you

Krishna, is it true?
I am not able to realize so
Things seem to have changed
I feel the same way as I used to feel earlier
I talk the same way as I used to talk earlier

[...] Read more

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Book V - Part 07 - Beginnings Of Civilization

Afterwards,
When huts they had procured and pelts and fire,
And when the woman, joined unto the man,
Withdrew with him into one dwelling place,

Were known; and when they saw an offspring born
From out themselves, then first the human race
Began to soften. For 'twas now that fire
Rendered their shivering frames less staunch to bear,
Under the canopy of the sky, the cold;
And Love reduced their shaggy hardiness;
And children, with the prattle and the kiss,
Soon broke the parents' haughty temper down.
Then, too, did neighbours 'gin to league as friends,
Eager to wrong no more or suffer wrong,
And urged for children and the womankind
Mercy, of fathers, whilst with cries and gestures
They stammered hints how meet it was that all
Should have compassion on the weak. And still,
Though concord not in every wise could then
Begotten be, a good, a goodly part
Kept faith inviolate- or else mankind
Long since had been unutterably cut off,
And propagation never could have brought
The species down the ages.
Lest, perchance,
Concerning these affairs thou ponderest
In silent meditation, let me say
'Twas lightning brought primevally to earth
The fire for mortals, and from thence hath spread
O'er all the lands the flames of heat. For thus
Even now we see so many objects, touched
By the celestial flames, to flash aglow,
When thunderbolt has dowered them with heat.
Yet also when a many-branched tree,
Beaten by winds, writhes swaying to and fro,
Pressing 'gainst branches of a neighbour tree,
There by the power of mighty rub and rub
Is fire engendered; and at times out-flares
The scorching heat of flame, when boughs do chafe
Against the trunks. And of these causes, either
May well have given to mortal men the fire.
Next, food to cook and soften in the flame
The sun instructed, since so oft they saw
How objects mellowed, when subdued by warmth
And by the raining blows of fiery beams,
Through all the fields.
And more and more each day
Would men more strong in sense, more wise in heart,
Teach them to change their earlier mode and life

[...] Read more

poem by Lucretius
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Written In Stone

I'm gonna take you down to the riverside
Where the water runs slow and wide
There's a big ole rock out in the middle
And I took my hammer and chisel
And worked all night so you could see
Just how much you mean to me
I carved your name right next to mine
And it'll be there till the end of time
And my love will last at least that long
It's written in stone how I feel for you
It's written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know how I feel for you
Is written in stone
There's a place on the edge of town
When I was a kid I found
Two names on a stone together
Lying side by side forever
And it was then and there I knew
If I ever thought a love was true
I'd surely want to write it down
On something that would be around
When all the spoken words have come and gone
It's written in stone how I feel for you
It's written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know what I feel for you
Is written in stone
And when this life has come and gone
Our love will still be
Written in stone how I feel for you
Written in stone what I want to do
Spend my life and life hereafter loving you
And darling if we live to be 100
Or if we don't make it half that long
I want you to know how I feel for you
Is written in stone

song performed by Randy Travis
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Sam Loves Joann

(tia sillers/john tirro)
Joann was is an awkward position
Very unmarried and starting to show
Joann had wanted to be a beautician
She thought it looked like a good time to go
Got on a greyhound to ride up to macon
No one is new brunswick would quite understand
She wouldnt look at the side of the highway
Where written in spray paint said sam loves joann
Joann, joann, how could you leave your man
Im yours forever in big old blue letters
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Sams on his way to the state penitentiary
He doesnt know hes a father to be
Sam only wanted to borrow a chevy
But the state locked him up and they threw out the key
Sam hoped to take her away to get married
But he never asked her, so much for big plans
Now the prison bus takes him on down that same highway
Where written in spray paint sam loves joann
Joann, joann, how could you leave your man
Im yours forever in big old blue letters
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Funny how things from the heat of the moment
Like making a baby or getting tattooed
Last a lot longer than ever expected
Feelings might fade but the facts never do
Its all the same in the small towns and big towns
The names might change but across this great land
Just take a ride along any old highway
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Joann, joann, how could you leave your man
Im yours forever in big old blue letters
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Joann, joann, how could you leave your man
Im yours forever in big old blue letters
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann
Its written in spray paint sam loves joann

song performed by Tiffany
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Written In Blood And Love

In pages written in blood, in pages written love.
Stories are told of you grow old together.
Live to dieing forever.
Scarred by the pain of misery.
Scarred by the imperfections the have created so many rejections.
Give me the antidote to the poison that I have slipped in my own drink.
Let me breath the life in again.
Drowned out all the cowardliness of my angel who holding me up.
Such a beautiful crutch.

Still in the pages written in blood, in the pages written love.
We are just one of millions.
Every story is the same.
All that's changed is the names, places, and faces.
Erase it all.
Rewrite the entire fall.
Let the wind take me.
Let the lightning strike me here and now.
For i will not let it cloud my judgement.
No matter the storm that's brought on.

In the pages written in blood, in the pages written in love
Hate me for the right reasons
Hate me because I am what you wanted me to be.
In all the irony.
I didn't change for you.
It was done way before you came along and sang your song.

All the pages have been written, in blood and love.
The Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet to the fullest.
Its the cruelest games in tragedy strikes without a ounce of leniency.
No mercy to those who are jumping without a life line.
Protection against the evil of an accident so quick.
A slip becomes a fall.
Next your trying to stall buy a little time.
But its in vain.
Nothing can be changed.
Its sink or swim till you reach shore.
So long off stripped of everything you thought was important.

Values so mixed up in these pages written in blood, in the pages written in love.
We have killed another pair of doves.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Vision of Judgment

I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of late;
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era 'eight-eight'
The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull,
And 'a pull altogether,' as they say
At sea — which drew most souls another way.

II

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,
Or curb a runaway young star or two,
Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon
Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue,
Splitting some planet with its playful tail,
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

III

The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky
Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and woe,
That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills.

IV

His business so augmented of late years,
That he was forced, against his will no doubt,
(Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,)
For some resource to turn himself about,
And claim the help of his celestial peers,
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out
By the increased demand for his remarks:
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V

This was a handsome board — at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Vision of Judgment, The

I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of late;
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era 'eight-eight'
The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull,
And 'a pull altogether,' as they say
At sea — which drew most souls another way.

II

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,
Or curb a runaway young star or two,
Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon
Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue,
Splitting some planet with its playful tail,
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

III

The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky
Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and woe,
That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills.

IV

His business so augmented of late years,
That he was forced, against his will no doubt,
(Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,)
For some resource to turn himself about,
And claim the help of his celestial peers,
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out
By the increased demand for his remarks:
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V

This was a handsome board — at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;

[...] Read more

poem by George Gordon Byron
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Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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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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It Was Written

Chorus
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
Verse 1
Well did you know the pen was stronger than the knife
and they can kill you once but they cant kill you twice
did you know destruction of the flesh is not the ending to life
fear not of thee anti-Christ
Did you know that I exist before the earth
and did you know my eyes are windows to the world
Did you know you cant go a Zion and a wear jerry curls
Cant tell the boys from the girls
Ya body just a vehicle transporting your soul
Its what inside the people is beauty to behold
Fear not of evil
Everyday them fleshed growed
Changes of the times they get told
Chorus
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
Verse 2
Me say me want
Freedom, justice, equality
As it was written on the book of lights and sociality
Me want fa big up Marcus Garvey say me big up Huey P
Me na want no brutality in a me reality
I can see it in the signs everyday I live
Its clear to ma mind somthin getta give
The system is the problem but it aint just gonna change
The people got to fight as one and break free from the chains
We livin in a time where whitey got us corned
Shackles on the brain police on every corner
They lookin for some soldiers but they so hard to find
My elders say be patient cause things come in time
Not fast enough because
They want fa rewrite ma history and make the motherland a mystery
cause we to strong fa them to dis we
because if it wasnt how it is then it would definitely be
because the days is up
blaze it up
AFRICAN WARRIOR raise it up
Push it up

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song performed by Dead Prez
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Can Be Written Anywhere, Anytime

A poem can be written anywhere, anytime-
A poem can be written too early in the morning
While waiting in Talpiot for ‘Rami Levi Supermarket’ to open-
It can be written in one’s head in a frozen Army barracks in Beit El
Or in a small room on Rav Berlin St on an old Smith- Corona
In the first happy years of one’s marriage-
It can be written for years from Haganah St. in French Hill
In the family years and the lonely ones
It can be written walking by the sea in Tel Aviv
With small children in hand-
It can be written on the same shore years later when one’s life has been broken
By Love’s desertion-
It can be written in old age on Rehov Shahal in Givat Mordechai
As one takes joy from the birth of one’s first grandchild-

A poem can be written anywhere anytime-

I have been writing my poems in Israel
For more than half a lifetime-

May those too
Who come after me
Read and Write Poetry here.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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That studies have shown that more people are getting up earlier, they're getting their news earlier. They're getting less sleep, getting up at earlier hours.

quote by Katie Couric
Added by Lucian Velea
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