A story without an author is not worth listening to.
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The Listening Week
This is the listening week of the year
Listening-in.
A-cock and alert is the national ear
Listening-in.
All over the land in the country towns,
From the back of the Leeuwin to Darling Downs,
Layers of 'quids' or the odd half-crowns,
They are listening-in.
On the far-flung farms they are round each set,
Listening-in.
The work and the worry they all forget,
Listening-in.
Wherever an aerial soars in space
To the Cup, or the Oaks or the Steeplechase,
To the roar of the ring and the lure of the race
They are listening-in.
In the far outback there are sun-tanned men,
Listening-in.
Where the woolshed stands by the drafting pen
Listening-in.
Old Dad's come in from the Ninety Mile;
He scored on the Cup and he wears a smile,
And he 'reckons this game is well worth while'
So he's listening in.
To the edge of the desert the sound-waves go;
And, listening-in,
Ned of the Overland, Saltbush Joe
Listening-in
Recall the giants of years long past,
And the loneliness of these spaces vast;
But they reckon that life's worth living at last
With this listening-in.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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No, it's not a very good story - its author was too busy listening to other voices to listen as closely as he should have to the one coming from inside.
quote by Stephen King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alarming Creation
An alarming creation has been assembled,
For he does his work and begets, the very same.
The author creates and blocks out like one who imagines,
In an institution consuming ice and ink.
The embryonic stages set in motion and lead to fabrication,
Of first cracks, of elementary layers like the cakes.
This is the opening, there will be some with less,
But the author of creativity shows a plot or story.
Much is lion, most is gathering when a story unfolds,
Like a consternation, like an alarm of a clock.
The created beings set away from the land
And erode into the sea, the seas and the oceans.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Its The Same Old Story
M. field / n. oliphant
The same old story
Its as old as the stars above
The same old story
Of a boy and a girl in love
The scenes say more moonlight
The times say more june light
Romances the thing
Two hearts away deep in a dream
The same old story
Its been told much too much before
The same old story
But its worth telling just once more
Its all fun and laughter
They lived ever after in ecstacy
The same old story but its new to me
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The one man who should never attempt an explanation of a poem is its author. If the poem can be improved by it's author's explanations it never should have been published, and if the poem cannot be improved by its author's explanations the explanations are scarcely worth reading.
quote by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos
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Scotland's Story
Michael McGrory from west Donegal
You came to Glasgow with nothing at all
You fought the landlord then the Afrika Korps
When you came to Glasgow with nothing at all
Abraham Caplan from Vilnius you came
You were heading for New York, but Leith's where you've stayed
You built a great business which benefits all
Since you came to this land with nothing at all
In Scotland's story I read that they came
The Gael and the Pict, the Angle and Dane
But so did the Irishman, Jew and Ukraine
They're all Scotland's story and they're all worth the same
Joseph D'Angelo dreams of the days
When Italian kids in the Grassmarket played
We burned out his shop when the boys went to war
But auld Joe's a big man and he forgave all
In Scotland's story I'm told that they came
The Gael and the Pict, the Angle and Dane
But where's all the Chinese and Indian names?
They're in my land's story and they're all worth the same
Christina McKay, I learned of your name
How you travelled south from Delny one day
You raised a whole family in one room they say
And the X on the line stands in place of your name
So in the old story I'll bet that I came
From Gael and Pict and Angle and Dane
And a poor migrant girl who could not write her name
It's a common old story, but it's mine just the same
All through the story the immigrants came
The Gael and the Pict, the Angle and Dane
From Pakistan, England and from the Ukraine
We're all Scotland's story and we're all worth the same
Your Scotland's story is worth just the same
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listening
Your skin attached this fragile cliche
Of my broken heart attack
You should swallow your teeth and hang out
Stay for a while
If your heart's still beating it must be the blood
If your lungs are still working it must be the mud
If its still light out than a kick in the ribs
today's worth living
I don't see anything now
So just say what you wanna say
It's kind of funny how I'm not listening anyway
Lights out, I can't stand to hear you scream
While we were making love I was fast asleep
and the night sky better give something up (give something up)
I don't see anything now
So just say what you wanna say
It's kind of funny how I'm not listening anyway
[x2]
Lights out, lights out, lights out, lights out...
Lights out! I can't stand to hear you scream
While we were making love I was fast asleep
If your heart's still beating it must be the blood
If your lungs are still working it must be the mud
If its still light out than a kick in the ribs
And today's worth living, it probably is
I don't see anything now
So just say what you wanna say
It's kind of funny how I'm not listening anyway
[x2]
I'm not listening anyway
I'm not listening anyway
I'm not listening
Listening, I'm not listening
I'm not listening
I'm not listening
I'm not listening
song performed by by Used
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love story
Love story
~
And somewhere it may be written
a love story not of fairy-tales
or a Hollywood blockbuster
neither the best selling novel
of some highly respect author
or a poetic sonnet which sings
odes to sweet undying passion
it is more simple, honest
a love story of modern times
which bypasses the ageless classics
and clichés of romance
it may not make you cry
but it still remains a love story
lacking high drama or duels fought
mistakes are made and learnt from
and the happy ending still awaits
to be realised and celebrated
but somewhere it is written
in diary or letter form
the love story to this poem
poem by Matthew Holloway
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It was definitely a part of our life. I mean, my mom had both her brothers and her fiancee in Vietnam at the same time, so it wasn't just my dad's story, it was my mom's story too. And we definitely grew up listening to the stories.
quote by Vanessa Kerry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Artiste
If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
But I am only me
as you can see.
If I were a painter!
I would paint a picture of you,
I brush your hair,
with gentle strokes,
with a touch of brown,
and of you on your bed.
I'll make you blush and glow,
With a single stroke I can
make you smile again,
But I am only me
as you can see.
If I were a songwriter!
I would sing of my love for you,
I would write the words,
to tell you how I feel,
And maybe make this real,
But I am only me
as you can see.
If I were an author!
I would write a story of love,
a love that would bind
our two hearts,
write words of love for your voice,
as I let it wash over me,
of kissing your lips and the taste of you,
But I am only me,
as you can see.
RG/RR
poem by Robert Green
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Was It All Worth It
Words and music by queen
What is there left for me to do in this life
Did I achieve what I had set in my sights
Am I a happy man or is this sinking sand
Was it all worth it was it all worth it
Yeah now hear my story let me tell you about it
We bought a drum kit blew my own trumpet
Played the circuit thought we were perfect
Was it all worth it
Giving all my heart and soul and staying up all night
Was it all worth it
Living breathing rocknroll a godforsaken life
Was it all worth it was it all worth it all these years
Put down our money without counting the cost
It didnt matter if we won if we lost
Yes we were vicious yes we could kill
Yes we were hungry yes we were brill
We served a purpose like a bloody circus
We were so dandy we love you madly
Was it all worth it
Living breathing rocknroll this godforsaken life
Was it all worth it was it all worth it
When the hurly burlys done
We went to bali saw God and dali
So mystic surrealistic
Was it all worth it yeah yeah
Giving all my heart and soul staying up all night
Was it all worth it
Living breathing rocknroll this never ending fight
Was it all worth it was it all worth it
Yes it was a worthwhile experience
It was worth it
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kawabata
No doubt
the crazy boy thinks
he's having his mother read
some sort of record
of his memories,
something that he wrote himself-
that's what he thinks
he's listening to.
His eyes sparkle
with pride.
His mother has no idea
whether or not he understands
what she's saying,
but every time
she comes to see him
she repeats
the same story,
and she gets better
and better at telling it-
it begins to seem like
she's actually reading a story
of her son's.
She remembers things
she had forgotten.
And the son's memories grow
more beautiful.
The son is drawing
the mother's story out,
helping her,
changing the story-
there's no way
of telling
whose novel it is,
whether it's the mother's
or the son's.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Nick Joaquin Story
I remember pretty well
As I write these
Poems, these unlikely
Unbecoming poems
Of a legal mind
Wanting still
To craft
A bridge poem
To connect
Two untalking
Worlds
Nick Joaquin indeed
Wrote so well and
Won the hearts
Of Filipino
Literati when
He gave them
The Portrait of
A Filipino as
An Artist
In fact the story
Was made into
A play and Nick
Was invited to watch
An actress who
Played a minor role
Was so irritated
About this drunken
Old rugged
foul smelling
alcoholic
dirty
man,
And seeing him
drank as
Usual with lots
Of beer,
she shouted
omigod!
shouted at
At him
“old man, this is
a nice play, so please
do not watch it drunk
and disappoint us
with your unruly
behaviour! ”
she felt he was just
kind of rude
uncultured
and disrespectful
to the content
of the play
of the portrait
of the Filipino
as an Artist.
she
agreed
the story
was grand
the play grander
what she did not know
she was shouting
at Nick Joaquin
the author
of the story
the
mighty author
of the story
that was made
into a grander play
of the century
Nick Joaquin left the theater
The actress did not really know
What she was saying about
Authorship
and
behavior.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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But I like to listen to demos. I like to hear the finished product. It's like listening to a song - I mean, a story. If you're going to sit here and tell me a story, I just like to listen. I don't want to make them up.
quote by Reba McEntire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And what it depends on, of course, is whether the story itself is worth the ethical compromise it requires and whether the competition is onto the story.
quote by Roger Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sing out my soul His anthem raise
Sovereign Lord Whom angels worship
may this mortal sing Your praise?
For my Glorious God You are worth it.
Sing out my soul His anthem raise!
Sing, of salvations wondrous story
and of the way He came to earth.
For our Awesome God of glory
was born to us by virgin birth.
Sing of Him Who came to save you.
How He upon the cross forgave you.
Died as though all the blame was His
No greater love has man than this.
He is the Lord of every nation,
The Ancient of Eternal Days.
He is the Author of our Salvation
to Him we bring to our songs of praise
Listening
Listening.
And being there for someone loved...
To do just that!
With a mind willing,
To be receptive and clear...
Of opinions sitting,
On the tip of one's tongue.
With a giving of attention,
And staying mum.
Listening to someone.
Listening is not easily done.
For those who have experienced...
A life in which peace of mind has come.
When a listening ear,
Had not been volunteered by no one.
And some who know this...
Do their best to sit with patience.
Listening with no other reason...
But to be there as is wished.
For someone who has selected you,
Just for this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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