Quotes about archives, page 3
These Words Have Become My Friends
If you should someday,
Find my words in the archives.
And discover the thoughts I have,
Shared in my way.
Just know...
I too have grown to know life.
And have come to enjoy,
All that I have described from my heart...
My head,
And sometimes with eyes
In observance to connect them,
For you!
Feel them.
See them...
And come to know them well.
These words have become my friends!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Record Of Mighty Arrest
Recording names of stupor corresponds to success,
The dossier of might, a charter of demand.
We mimic the italics of names all around,
A dossier has been published of one’s cross.
The evidentiary record, the archives, the registry,
All amount to this same collection of names, proper.
Shot at the face, we take in hand and put to notice
Sure ways of arresting and sending to the places suited.
poem by Naveed Akram
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With A Keeping Of A Sweetness
Only when it has been made to them available,
Are people made aware of what they can access.
And those with a thought process,
That is familiar with research...
Are never surprised,
By what is hidden in the archives.
Left to go unaddressed,
To only feed that which sweetens.
Enabling the natives to peacefully rest,
With a keeping of a sweetness in full supply.
Ready to feast upon as when needed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Kinsmen of Existance
The sun of reason
breaking into a night of passion
guiding the dreaming hunter
into the archives of reality
to hit at the flesh of existence
and spill the blood of achievement
Real success, the sun of reason... shine on!
The son of purpose
reigning in the kingdom of darkness
healing the crippled humanity
into the safety of grace
and the assurance of faith
Real life, real purpose
The son of purpose, reign on!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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From the Banks of Ganga XII
I've seen
The line erasing
Between the sea and the sky
By the banks of Gangsa
I now see
The deceptive lines
Between the hills and the sky
Diluting…
In my hearts archives
The imaginary lines too
Faded…
The hills looked clouds
And the flickering lights atop
Twinkling stars
I look up in perplexity
The skyline disappeared
The lines you drew around my feet
And yours as well
Have also been washed away
[...] Read more
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Snapshot of Rimbaud
You are ofcourse on the go somehow
but with the strangeness of stilled life,
white, dressed as in orderlies cloth.
Imagine this faded album-leaf,
mildewed, sunk in chrome light as some
collected piece heaped in archives
and after the many elopements
of yourself, as unfazed as a
pilfered day, there are no left-offs;
fingers and imprints.Run train,
sweat the blazing steel and steam
the inexorable formalities.
2009 revised
poem by Lelio S Shirra
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Sir Christopher Wren 1632-1723
In the archives may be seen
a well-known name, an evergreen.
Professor of Astronomy at Oxford,
the great and famous Architect
.... Sir Christopher Wren....
After the Great Fire of London
in sixteen sixty-six, Sir Christopher
designed St. Paul's Cathedral
and many other London churches
and buildings; there was no ending
to his achievements.
Born in England,
he died in England,
and today we honour such
a great name from history.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Throes Of Life
I will rather keep my faith on my works to move on,
For i am what i am today for you to see;
But yesterday is already gone too soon.
From the archives to the slippery lips and the throes of life,
Money cannot make a Doctor out of a playboy!
But allegorically noted is to toll the lines of a psyche.
I will rather keep my faith towards my success,
For the struggle is not yet over;
And there is nothing worse in life than being ignored!
But i will live always to share my love with others.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bullets and Poppies
Bullets were flying
and soldiers were dying
as crimson poppies
swayed in the breeze,
beyond the trenches
beyond the green leas
in the fourteen-eighteen war
'the war to end all wars'
but these words sadly
failed to please.
The poppy's the emblem
and sorrowful hearts in sympathy
wander back to Flanders Fields
where thousands of comrades
were shamefully killed.
Golden the archives,
with names of the heroes...
and the poppy still sways
in the breeze, because
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Archives
Fear of a mound,
tumbling down
on the half-buried, half dead
archives of desires, comes
like a stampede of hoops on my chest.
I lie alone in a desert of insanity.
From the sea of agony
one dropp of salted tear,
the title of a wasted life, brings
the blood stained truth.
I want to wash my eyes again.
To watch the autumn leaves falling
on impeccable stones
for forgiveness.
We were not the fruits.
A song of blind water
enters the earth
[...] Read more
poem by Satish Verma
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