The Past: Our cradle, not our prison; there is danger as well as appeal in its glamour. The past is for inspiration, not imitation, for continuation, not repetition.
quote by Israel Zangwill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth Through Repetition
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poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Originality?
Repetition or revelation
Inspiration or imitation
Originality, individuality
Purpose, duality
Re-iteration of justification
Empty head, brain dead
Idiosyncratic representation
Copied, borrowed, re-worded
Or real
Whats is Your Life?
Life is
Repetition or revelation
Inspiration or imitation
Originality, individuality
Purpose, duality
Re-iteration of justification
Empty headed, brain dead
Individual representation
Copied, borrowed, re-worded
Or real
What is your life?
poem by Kat Mercado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Repetition
You get up in the morning
And every single day
Is just a repetition
Its always been that way
You live alone inside your head
Incommunicado, in the land of living dead
Each days a repetition
Of the one that went before
Like watching an old movie
You cant sit through anymore
Why dont you kick the habit
And walk right out that door?
From all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
Its always been that way
Its in your head, its in your eyes
Youre boring and its no surprise
With all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day
But you go right back where you started
Day after day
You go right back to where you started
Day after day, after day, after day, after day
You look in the mirror
Is anybody there?
Its only a reflection
That doesnt really care
Youre a product of your time
Looking hard for something, but you never saw the sign
Lock inside a prison
But thats where you wanna be
Stuck in solitary
And youve thrown away the key
You say you want your freedom
But you dont wanna get away
Then you wake up, its time for you
To start another day
With all the repetition, day after day, all the repetition
All the repetition day after day
Another chance, another day
You know its time to get away from all the repetition
Day after day
How long you gonna sit and wait
Youre getting on its getting late
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day
But you go right back where you started
Day after day
You go right back to where you started
Day after day, after day, after day, after day
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good-By To The Cradle
GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle,
The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside:
No more to its motion, o'er Sleep's fairy ocean,
Our play-weary wayfarers peacefully glide;
No more by the rhythm of slow-moving rocker
Their sweet, dreamy fancies are fostered and fed;
No more to low singing the cradle goes swinging--
The child of this era is put into bed!
Good-by to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle,--
It lent to the twilight a mystical charm:
When bees left the clover, when playtime was over,
How safe seemed this shelter from danger and harm;
How soft seemed the pillow, how distant the ceiling,
How weird were the voices that whispered around;
What dreams would come flocking as, rocking and rocking,
We floated away into slumber profound.
Good-by to the cradle, the old wooden cradle,
The babe of the day does not know it by sight;
When day leaves the border, with system and order
The child goes to bed, and we put out the light.
I bow to Progression; and ask no concession,
Though strewn be her pathway with wrecks of the Past.
So off with old lumber, that sweet ark of slumber,
The dear wooden cradle, is ruthlessly cast.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Wooden Cradle
Good-bye to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle
The rude hand of Progress has thrust it aside.
No more to its motion o’er sleep’s fairy ocean,
Our play-weary wayfarers peacefully glide.
No more by the rhythm of slow-moving rocker,
Their sweet dreamy fancies are fostered and fed;
No more to low singing the cradle goes swinging –
The child of this era is put into bed.
Good-bye to the cradle, the dear wooden cradle,
It lent to the twilight a strange, subtle charm;
When bees left the clover, when play-time was over,
How safe seemed this shelter from danger or harm.
How soft seemed the pillow, how distant the ceiling,
How weird were the voices that whispered around,
What dreams would come flocking, as rocking and rocking,
We floated away into slumber profound.
Good-bye to the cradle, the old wooden cradle,
The babe of to-day does not know it by sight.
When day leaves the border, with system and order,
The child goes to bed and we put out the light.
I bow to Progression and ask no concession,
Though strewn be her pathway with wrecks of the past;
So off wit old lumber, that sweet ark of slumber,
The old wooden cradle, is ruthlessly cast.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Don't Know Where The Past Is Gone
I don’t know where the past is gone
I only know most of my own life is over-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know so many people I loved
Are no longer here and will never be here again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
I only know that that chance I had that hope for so many years
Can never be mine in the same way again-
I don’t know where the past has gone
So many moments of beauty and love and opportunity missed and longing unrealized-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what of it I should miss
And why I should long for it so.
I don’t know where the past has gone
And where my life was lost and why I did not do better in it-
I don’t know where the past has gone
And what will be when for me
Everything is only the Past gone
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Xavier
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
This is my gift you.
Don't worry, I wanted to.
No appreciation is ever needed.
I'm just not that conceded.
In fact I'm a ghost.
I was never even here.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
A love for all so strong.
A free spirit.
Is that so wrong?
Life is but full of times when you will be walked upon.
I say so what?
I'm doing what feels right.
Let us hope I don't get burned tonight.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
So many screams.
How could one ever reach them all.
It's like a million calls.
Answering with this is 911 what is your emergency.
An every time you know their will be another one.
When beating upon a dead horse does it move?
Sometimes you do have too pick and choose.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Triage on the battle field.
One wound so serious and then the next.
It goes straight in the heart.
A dagger forever piercing.
The pain of repetition.
Knowing no matter what you just cant save them all.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
For the goodness of my soul.
For the redemption from my lord.
For a better world.
So many reason.
But I don't need a excuse.
A life must never be abused.
We can not take it for granted.
For a second one will not be given.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Tell me now is this common behavior?
A physiological analyzation.
The words and thoughts of memorization.
We can't all be your hero.
But this time just let it be me.
Let it be me.
A call to destiny.
A play upon both the heaven and earth.
A wish to remove a curse.
With all my desire burns a fire.
It can't be just put out.
It has been burning for way too long.
A life in which I belong.
Thoughts that become a continuation of a song.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Stranger in danger.
Let me be savior.
Let me be your Xavier.
Please just let me be your savior.
You ask of my name?
And I say, It's Xavier.
It's Xavier.
It's Xavier.
It's Xavier.
My Name Is Xavier.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Destiny Of Life
Inspiration leads to the destiny of life,
Through respiration the aspiration is filled.
Preparation along with inspiration
Aspires the destination of life.
The destination is inspiration
And the inspiration is the
Gateway to instant activation
And future realization
Is present satisfaction
And past perspiration.
Therefore the past and present
Leads the man to future destination.
Self motivation is self activation
And self determination is strong
Actualization.
All things lead to destiny
And the unknown destiny
Is a predetermined destiny
Which comes to realization,
When you come to know that
You have reached your destination.
poem by Rajesh Kumar Vaishnaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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BLinK
i got some inspiration,
i do not know from where.
sitting on this seat
watching my fingers play their game,
as the colors change
a shirt which is in pink and white strips.
i can only think of my past trips.
i got some inspiration
i do not know from where,
but ever since that thought crossed my mind,
it becomes harder to find.
staring into space,
dreaming of quitting,
with pleasure and pain.
i got some inspiration
i do not know from where,
life's dark now, it's wasted -
please if you ever do think like me,
you'll realise whatever you've been living on
is just.
i got some inspiration,
i do not know from where.
poem by Rajashri Saphia Singh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Past Lives On With Us
We may not be in prison yet we are not truly free
For of our past we are prisoners that's how 'twould seem to me
Bad memories always haunt us they never go away
Until the Reaper claims us they are with us to stay.
For many childhood memories are full of mental pain
Their heavy cross of sorrows through their lives with them remain
Children of war and famines they cannot forget their past
Their living nightmares with them linger though few other things seem to last.
Children of abusive parents bad old memories in them stay young
They live remembering their traumas and die as the unsung
Their innocence stolen from them in their childhood of tears
Bad memories still with them undimmed by the passing years.
We may not be in prison though it would seem to me
That we prisoners of our memories of our past we can't be free
Until the Reaper claims us good and bad memories with us stay
Our past seems to live on with us and it never goes away.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Glamour
Glamour,
Today,
Glamour,
Today,
Illusion all around me,
And its hard to tell,
Such bewilderment,
Cant tell a truth from a fallacy,
Can it be,
Clouds what we think,
What we do,
What we say,
Glamour,
Today,
Although we struggle and fight,
Cant see the wrong from right,
Glamour gets in the way,
Aii that we say and do,
Always its fooling you,
Glamour,
Today,
Oh, you cant cut it with a knife,
It will rule your life,
Glamour,
Ooh, ooh, oh, I believe its true.
Oh, look at all the people,
That still fall in the trap,
Strain their eyes to see,
Somebody elses make believe,
Can it be,
Its whats inside,
What you feel that is reality,
Glamour,
Today,
Oh, I believe its true,
Always its fooling you,
Glamour,
Today,
Destroy it with your mind,
And let the truth unwind,
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragile Heart
A fragile heart was broken before
I don't think it could endure another pain
But there's a voice from deep inside of you
That's calling out to make you realize
That this new bond gives inspiration
To all who feel no love appeal no more
So how can I break this wall around you
That's aiding both our hearts to grow in pain
So forget your past
song performed by by Westlife from Coast To Coast
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To articulate what is past does not mean to recognize "how it really was." It means to take control of a memory, as it flashes in a moment of danger. For historical materialism it is a question of holding fast to a picture of the past, just as if it had unexpectedly thrust itself, in a moment of danger, on the historical subject. The danger threatens the stock of tradition as much as its recipients. For both it is one and the same: handing itself over as the tool of the ruling classes. In every epoch, the attempt must be made to deliver tradition anew from the conformism which is on the point of overwhelming it. For the Messiah arrives not merely as the Redeemer; he also arrives as the vanquisher of the Anti-christ. The only writer of history with the gift of setting alight the sparks of hope in the past, is the one who is convinced of this: that not even the dead will be safe from the enemy, if he is victorious. And this enemy has not ceased to be victorious.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Danger
There is danger atop our heads;
There is danger around us all;
There is danger beneath our feet;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger in the skies;
There is danger in the seas;
There is danger ev’n on land;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from earth’s bowels;
There is danger in forests;
There is danger in hills, vales;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from our brethren;
There is danger from kith, kin;
There is danger from strangers;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger within us;
There is danger from space;
There is danger to our soul;
Nevertheless, God protects us.
poem by John Celes
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My works are an imitation of my own past and present.
quote by Barbara Hepworth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The danger of the past was that men became slaves. The danger of the future is that man may become robots.
quote by Erich Fromm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fool By The RoadSide
WHEN all works that have
From cradle run to grave
From grave to cradle run instead;
When thoughts that a fool
Has wound upon a spool
Are but loose thread, are but loose thread;
When cradle and spool are past
And I mere shade at last
Coagulate of stuff
Transparent like the wind,
I think that I may find
A faithful love, a faithful love.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Past
Past is past.
It never comes.
It helps us something to learn.
Past lives may hurt us.
But It never ruins us.
Don't fight the past.
Let it go, always be simple, always be inspired.
There is no point going with the past.
There is the point going with present.
Past determines nothing.
Present determines something.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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Joy In Repetition
{crowd noise same as for alphabet street}
He like to frequent this club down up on 36th
Pimps and thangs like 2 hang outside and cuss for kicks
Talking 2 no one in particular, they say the baddest I am tonight
4 letter words are seldom heard with such dignity and bite.
All the poets and the part time singers always hang inside
Live music from a band plays a song called soul psychodelicide.
The songs a year long and had been playing 4 months when he
Walked into the place.
No one seemed to care, an introverted this-is-it look on most of their faces.
Up on the mic repeating 2 words, over and over again
Was this woman he had never noticed before he lost himself in the
Articulated manner in which she said them.
These 2 words, a little bit behind the beat.
I mean just enough 2 turn u on.
4 everytime she said the words another one of his doubts were gone.
Should he try 2 rap with her? should he stand and stare?
No one else was watching her, she didnt seem 2 care.
So over and over, she said the words til he could take no more, (no more)
He dragged her from the stage and together they ran through the back door
In the alley over by the curb he said tell me whats your name
She only said the words again and it started to rain (rain, rain, rain)
2 words falling between the drops and the moans of his condition
Holding someone is truly believing theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
Theres joy in repetition.
She said love me, love me, what she say?
She say love me, love me.
Joy, why dont u love me baby, joy, why cant u love me baby
Joy, come on and love me baby, joy in repetition
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy in repetition,
Alright, joy, all my wishes add up to one
Love me, joy, love me, joy, love me, joy
Love me, love me, joy, joy, joy in repetition
Joy, joy in repetition,
Joy, joy (love me) in repetition,
Love me, love, joy, joy, joy in repetition
Joy, and Im gonna say it again, joy, joy, and Im gonna say it again,
Joy, Id like 2 go way up high and say, love me, joy
Ill say love me, joy
Joy, joy in repetition, joy in repetition
Theres joy in repetition
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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