Calvino was not a writer of hits; he was a writer of classics.
quote by William Weaver
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Game Don't Wait (feat. Nate Dogg And Snoop Dogg)
I come to find out though, all these years
the game wont wait no matter who you are
where you are or how you are
the game wont wait
its a cold thang, but its a cold game
you know how it is
(Chorus) x3
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
[Snoop]
Now all I, see is we
the LBC, its 213s
cheese and please and the reason the season
the click's off the heezy, Mr. Warren G Z
gots to make it easy, wit Snoop D Z
they come back, and drop raps and make snaps so easy
the most hunted, and most wanted
with a pocket full of hundreds, you know how we run it
[Warren G]
Snoop de woop pass the M-I-C
anticipation 213
we contemplate, and regulate
now we got the game tight, its money to make (money, money, money)
the game dont wait but you can wait for the game
worldwide tours, with skirts screamin our name
[Snoop]
The hits dont stop because the game wont change
all we goin to do is maintain, maintain
[Nate Dogg]
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
I got no time for no payin much rate
I gotta go out and buy some brand new clothes
change my signs so they reveal my foes
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
girls dont stop because the dick is straight
let me teach you what I already know
the hits dont stop so its time to go
(Chorus) x3
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
Game dont wait
The hits dont stop because the game dont wait
[Warren G]
Now its the second time around ain't no phonies any fakes
Let me holla at cha tryin to snake my stakes
you older than me, you say OG, you almost 40
tryin to stay young as 40
sport you roll me those so stay in ya place
[...] Read more
song performed by Warren G
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Long Way To Go
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
Her/His skin wasn't the same color as mine
But she/he was fine, she/he was fine
If all men are made equal
Then she/he was fine, she/he was fine
Up until the time we went out on a date
I was fine, I was fine
Now I'm getting dirty looks, I wonder what they'd say
If we were blind, we were blind people
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
Beauty is beauty, whether it's black or white
Yellow or green baby, you know what I mean
What if Picasso only used one color
There shouldn't be a rule, how to choose your lover
Lovers in love is such a wonderful thing
Maybe in time, we'll get together and sing
I really hope so, there's nothing wrong with this picture
We got a long way to go, we gotta get there quicker
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
What color is love [3x]
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
...that all men are created equal...
...children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by...
...by the color of their skin...
...but by the content of their character...
...this will be the day when all of God's children...
[...] Read more
song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Long Way To Go (feat. Andr 3000)
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
Her/His skin wasn't the same color as mine
But she/he was fine, she/he was fine
If all men are made equal
Then she/he was fine, she/he was fine
Up until the time we went out on a date
I was fine, I was fine
Now I'm getting dirty looks, I wonder what they'd say
If we were blind, we were blind people
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
Beauty is beauty, whether it's black or white
Yellow or green baby, you know what I mean
What if Picasso only used one color
There shouldn't be a rule, how to choose your lover
Lovers in love is such a wonderful thing
Maybe in time, we'll get together and sing
I really hope so, there's nothing wrong with this picture
We got a long way to go, we gotta get there quicker
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
What color is love [3x]
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
We've got a long way to go
When snow hits the asphalt, cold looks and bad talk come
We've got a long way to go
It's beyond Martin Luther, upgrade computer
...that all men are created equal...
...children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by...
...by the color of their skin...
...but by the content of their character...
...this will be the day when all of God's children...
[...] Read more
song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Writer's Dream
A writer wrote of the hearts of men, and he followed their tracks afar;
For his was a spirit that forced his pen to write of the things that are.
His heart grew tired of the truths he told, for his life was hard and grim;
His land seemed barren, its people cold—yet the world was dear to him;—
So he sailed away from the Streets of Strife, he travelled by land and sea,
In search of a people who lived a life as life in the world should be.
And he reached a spot where the scene was fair, with forest and field and wood,
And all things came with the seasons there, and each of its kind was good;
There were mountain-rivers and peaks of snow, there were lights of green and gold,
And echoing caves in the cliffs below, where a world-wide ocean rolled.
The lives of men from the wear of Change and the strife of the world were free—
For Steam was barred by the mountain-range and the rocks of the Open Sea.
And the last that were born of a noble race—when the page of the South was fair—
The last of the conquered dwelt in peace with the last of the victors there.
He saw their hearts with the author’s eyes who had written their ancient lore,
And he saw their lives as he’d dreamed of such—ah! many a year before.
And ‘I’ll write a book of these simple folk ere I to the world return,
‘And the cold who read shall be kind for these—and the wise who read shall learn.
‘Never again in a song of mine shall a jarring note be heard:
‘Never again shall a page or line be marred by a bitter word;
‘But love and laughter and kindly hours will the book I’ll write recall,
‘With chastening tears for the loss of one, and sighs for their sorrows all.
‘Old eyes will light with a kindly smile, and the young eyes dance with glee—
‘And the heart of the cynic will rest awhile for my simple folk and me.’
The lines ran on as he dipped his pen—ran true to his heart and ear—
Like the brighter pages of memory when every line is clear.
The pictures came and the pictures passed, like days of love and light—
He saw his chapters from first to last, and he thought it grand to write.
And the writer kissed his girlish wife, and he kissed her twice for pride:
‘’Tis a book of love, though a book of life! and a book you’ll read!’ he cried.
He was blind at first to each senseless slight (for shabby and poor he came)
From local ‘Fashion’ and mortgaged pride that scarce could sign its name.
What dreamer would dream of such paltry pride in a scene so fresh and fair?
But the local spirit intensified—with its pitiful shams—was there;
There were cliques wherever two houses stood (no rest for a family ghost!)
They hated each other as women could—but they hated the stranger most.
The writer wrote by day and night and he cried in the face of Fate—
‘I’ll cleave to my dream of life in spite of the cynical ghosts that wait.
‘’Tis the shyness born of their simple lives,’ he said to the paltry pride—
(The homely tongues of the simple wives ne’er erred on the generous side)—
‘They’ll prove me true and they’ll prove me kind ere the year of grace be passed,’
But the ignorant whisper of ‘axe to grind!’ went home to his heart at last.
The writer sat by his drift-wood fire three nights of the South-east gale,
His pen lay idle on pages vain, for his book was a fairy tale.
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Truth Hits Everybody
Sleep lay behind me like a broken ocean
Strange waking dreams before my eyes unfold
You lay there sleeping like an open doorway
I stepped outside myself and felt so cold
Take a look at my new toy
Itll blow your head in two, o boy
Truth hits everybody
Truth hits everyone
I thought about it and my dream was broken
I clutch at images like dying breath
And I dont want to make a fuss about it
The only certain thing in life is death
Take a look at my new toy
Itll blow your head in two, o boy
Truth hits everybody
Truth hits everyone
Where you want to be
Wont you ever see
Truth hits everybody
Truth hits everyone
Now
song performed by Police
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Cantico del Sole
The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
&nbs p; Troubles my sleep,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation
&nbs p;Troubles my sleep.
Nunc dimittis, now lettest thou thy servant,
Now lettest thou thy servant
Depart in peace.
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America,
The thought of what America would be like
If the Classics had a wide circulation...
& nbsp; Oh well!
It troubles my sleep.
poem by Ezra Pound
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Three Hits
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
One could send you down the river
Threes a strange way to be delivered
Would you trade your words for freedom
Thats a barter for a blind man
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Are you leveed like a treasure
Only words can help me find you
And this worlds a fickle measure
I would painfully remind you
From a wise man to your red hand
You lay covered ion our best sins
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Well I dream you constant stranger
With your best bloods and your anger
You say mother do you claim me
My beloved do you blame me
Well the first two might release you
But the last one sings in me son
Three hits to the heart son
And its poetry in motion
Three hits to the heart son
And the last one sings in me
song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Impact
It hits!
No one knows,
How to deal with it.
An upsetting impact strikes.
And the suddenness of this,
Finds many unprepared.
It does not fit.
There is no choice,
To accept or resist.
It hits!
Unexpectedly.
And no one knows,
How it was imposed.
An upsetting impact strikes.
And the suddenness of this,
Finds many unprepared.
It does not fit.
There is no choice,
To accept or resist.
This impact scatters a consciousness.
Storming mentalities and doing it quick.
And this no one believes.
All exits are closed.
With eyes opened wide...
Leaving those feeling exposed.
There is no where to flee.
Some receive this as a gift.
But what are they going to do with it?
It hits!
But how can it be described?
When the impact attacks from inside.
It hits.
An evolution stirs a higher consciousness.
An impact comes...
To split and lift!
As if assisted by a divine shift!
Without debates or mandates to pick.
It hits.
And we are in the midst of it!
Beset...
Or bothered not!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Writer- a must?
Out of what does a writer write?
Out of hatred or perversion;
Out of denial or deprivation.
Why does a writer write?
To vent his anger or hatred.
To cry out from pain or lust.
How does a writer write?
By borrowing or distorting.
By modeling or duping.
For what does a writer write?
For an applause and a place.
It alone suits him, an idler.
What is the use of a writer?
For him to flaunt his skill.
For readers to idle away
Does the society need a writer?
Does a woman need cosmetics?
Writer is a part of civilization
16.05.2007.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Lady Writer
Lady writer on the tv
Talk about the virgin mary
Reminded me of you
Expectation left to come up to yeah
Lady writer on the tv
She had another quality
The way you used to look
And I know you never read a book
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time, another place
Lady writer on the tv
She had all the brains and the beauty
The pictures does not fit
Youd talk to me when you felt like it
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Yes and your rich old man,
You know hed a call her a dead ringer
You got the same command
Plus your mother was a jazz singer
Just the way that her hair fell down around her face
And I recall my fall from grace
Another time another place
Lady writer on the tv
She knew all about a history
You couldnt hardly write your name
I think I want it just the same as the ...
Lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
You know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
Talking about the virgin mary
Yeah you know Im talking about you and me
And the lady writer on the tv
song performed by Dire Straits
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daughters Of The Moon
DAUGHTERS OF THE MOON
In “Daughters of the Moon, ”
the moon falls to the earth,
and ends up very soon
where there's not a dearth
of ladies in a park
who, working with a spanner,
dance, nakedly quite stark
each one of them Diana,
abandoned dancing
among abandoned cars,
which I find as entrancing
as Venus is to Mars.
Joseph Farrell reviews Italo Calvino’s “The Complete Cosmicomics, ” translated by William Weaver, Tim Parks and Martin L. McLaughlin in the TLS, July 3,2009:
The later cosmicomic tales deal with days nearer our own times, and with people who live in places like New Jersey and drive cars, rather than plod over uncharted areas of the cosmos. It is possible to detect a darker side in the last stories. IN “Daughters of the Moon”, the moon falls to the earth, as in one of Leopardi’s poems, but this time it is in New York, and the moon ends up in a scrapyard with abandoned cars, to be greeted by a group of naked New York maidens, all called Diana. The scrapyard is as central as the burnt-out moon, and the tale is a protest against futile consumerism as well as a work of fantasy.
7/11/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Writer's Dream
A writer's dream
You keep trying
Never denying to one day achieve
Despite what most believe
A writer's dream
You never give up
Regardless of what others may say
But wait patiently until that day
A writer's dream
Although it's been a while
It made you smile
To see your dream coming through
No matter how long it seemed to you
A writer's dream
You always believed in yourself
That's why your time has come
To be a successful writer
With the privilege of making much income
A writer's dream
You're happy to finally get this far
The world knows just who you are
Now this new sudden fame
Makes you feel like a star
poem by Donielle Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Writer's Ink
I am the writer's ink,
So just write with me without any fear;
I will move more than expected,
I will write more than expected,
I am the writer's ink.
Use me slowly or even faster,
I will talk more than expected;
I do have the message to teach everyone.
Of the beauty of communication,
I am used by everyone;
I am the writer's ink,
I do make people sad or glad;
My ink makes rulers sad,
My ink makes personalities sad,
My ink makes the common man sad,
The way i am used matters.
I am the writer's ink,
I am not expensive;
Buy me and use me always.
How can a country like Ghana be poor? !
Ghana has gold, oil, cocoa and timber;
There are also diamond, bauxite and other minerals;
How then can Ghana be poor? !
The writer's ink should tell us more.
Mismanagement is the food in the country,
Ghana has really more than it needs;
This country shouldn't be poor.
What the leaders say on air is not,
What we see on the ground;
I am the talkative ready to talk.
I am the writer's ink,
I will always speak the truth!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
An African writer
I am an african writer
with the melodious lyric
flowing rivers of endless music
with words filled banks
of rhythmic juice
I am an african writer
the flower with the sweetest nectar
colourful juices of flowing oceans
oceans of endless streams
I am an african writer
dwelling by the shrine
in earnest worship to the gods of poetry
invoking my elders before me
warlord of the verbal war
I am an african writer
born with a pot of words
Caressed with the river of the niger
And burnt with the power of endless chatter
I am an african writer
With dead digits and ancient inks
Torn sheets with flee bugs
bestow to a journey of endless music
And beautiful heritage
I am an african writer!
Forged with letters and blood of lines
Strange eyes to a stories side
And rewarded with the gift of true sight!
poem by Venessa Ambrose
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Love A Mortal Who Writes
This be a farce dictation.
But then,
Love a being who writes
Because a writer
Is a liar.
I will lie about how the
Night flames with the warm waters
But you will never believe me
For I am a liar
With a pen and a paper.
Love a writer
For a writer is a soldier
Regardless of state:
A drunken soldier.
An arrogant soldier.
A morose soldier.
A burning soldier.
Whichever.
Love him
For he is a liar.
He is a prolix garden
Of petty things.
He makes the moon an empire,
And the Sun, an asylum.
He will lie about certain things
With sheer beauty
That none of you
Can contain.
Why love a liar, you might ask?
Listen to a painter as he lies
And he will guise himself with
A shallow palette of colors.
Listen to a businessman lie,
And he will be easily defeated
In a warfare of witticism.
Listen to a doctor lie
But then again, science cannot
Feign states or even a love.
And you can think of any other
Occupation that holds a lie,
And I will tell you
[...] Read more
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Writer and The Soldier
The Writer and The Soldier
By
Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
The writer writes a sad lament for the love that he lost long
ago,
The soldier mourns the loss of a fellow slain long ago.
The writer has lead and ink on his hands,
The soldier has blood on his.
The writer can wash away the pigments and with them his
memory’s go, but the soldier can only wash the blood on his
skin; he can not wash the blood on his heart nor
The memory’s in his mind,
Burned into his mind with canon fire and the cries of
His falling comrades.
Oh,
When the two meet, they give to each other much needed gifts;
The writer gives the soldier understanding and a few happy
tales to think of when tears try to strike him down,
And the soldier gives the writer a new sad lament to write, and
a new meaning to the word friendship.
Written August 14,2008
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Empty
No one knows what it is like to be empty inside.
No one knows what pain this comes with.
No one knows how to feel when the emptiness hits you.
No one knows what to think when it hits.
No one knows how to react when the emptiness hits.
You may think you know these things, but you don't.
I know these things.
I'll tell you.
When it attacks you, your going to feel lonely, abandon.
And the pain is excruciating. oh my god it will make you want to cry a lot.
When it hits you will think about death, not just anyone's death, your death.
And you will react very badly to feeling empty.
You'll start cutting your self, a lot.
Once you start you wont stop.
So Beware.
poem by Shannon Welch
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Love From A Hate Man
screams and yells
hurt and pain
hits and kills
your love from him
is screams
your love from him
is hurt
your love from him
is hits
the love he showes you, hurts you
his hugs are hits
his kisses are kills
pain flows from his fingers to your heart
pain flows out of his mouth and in to yours with every kiss
pain flows out of his body and in to yours with every hug
pain and tears
screams and sorrow
hits and kills
is his love to you
poem by Sarah May
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Its A Heartache
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: david mackay, ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Its a heartache, nothing but a heartache
Hits you when its too late, hits you when youre down
Its a fools game, nothing but a fools game
Standing in the cold rain, feeling like a clown
Its a heartache, nothing but a heartache
Love him till your arms break, then hell let you down
It aint right with love to share
When you find he doesnt care for you
It aint wise to need someone as much as I depended on you
Oh, its heartache, nothing but a heartache
Hits you when its too late, hits you when youre down
Its a fools game, nothing but a fools game
Standing in the cold rain, feeling like a clown
It aint right with love to share
When you find he doesnt care for you
It aint wise to need someone as much as I depended on you
Oh, its a heartache, nothing but a heartache
You love him till your arms break, then hell let you down
Its a fools game, nothing but a fools game
Standing in the cold rain, feeling like a clown
song performed by Bonnie Tyler
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!