I've been an inveterate reader of literary magazines since I was a teenager. There are always discoveries. You're sitting in your easy chair, reading; you realize you've read a story or a group of poems four times, and you know, Yes, I want to go farther with this writer.
quote by Marilyn Hacker

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Reader or writer
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should be a positive thinker.
You are more like a scientist observer.
Try to be an exact experimenter.
Nothing is too crazy to put on paper.
If you are a reader or a writer.
The reader is a wonderful dreamer.
The writer is a sincere worker.
Its lovely that both can be each other.
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should never say never.
So don't leave behind a book marker.
Make sure you have a word sharpener.
On A Famed Poet
Forgive me if his greatness I cannot seem to note
His poems never rhyme but he is a famed poet
By literary experts considered to be knowledgeable and wise
And for his poems he has won many a prize.
Though poetry is not very popular today
The poet of the poetry lovers the experts do say
In University literary magazines students his verses read
And they all agree he's a fine poet indeed.
Of poets and poetry I must confess so little I know
My favourites old rhymers from ages ago
On the poetry I do not like most experts agree
That it is well written and quite good poetry.
Forgive me if the worth in his verse I can't see
His non rhyming poetry does nothing for me
Of reading blank verse I do quickly grow tired
My truth is by such stuff I do not feel inspired.
The experts on his poetry great interest show
And his stature as a poet only seems to grow
Of him great things are written and great things we hear
And good luck to him on his literary career.
poem by Francis Duggan

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My Canadian Chronicles 30
Last night was kind of strange for me.
A friend took me long to a small café
to listen to some poetry being read
never thinking for one moment
that I would end up reading mine there.
It happened and I did,
my hands shook when I got up to the mike
and stood there and did my bit,
reading out what I regard the best two poems I have written.
I believe the person who organized it
was thrilled because his little group
suddenly went international when I got up to the mike.
It was a small group of about thirty,
each poet had a different style
and I had an awesome night
standing there
reading at “The Weed.”
18 June 2009
poem by David Harris

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Feelin Down Farther
Tom johnston
Well, the sun is shinin
A new day is here
All the people smilin
And the sky is clear
Not an hour wasted will I share with you
Got to keep lovin, mama
No matter what I do
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Jesus, hear me
When I sing out loud
The echoes of my gladness
Fall upon the crowd
I dont care for sadness
And I dont need fear
I hope they finally realize
That the feelin is near
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Givin and receivin
Are all I know
Some of you will find it
And youll probbly let it show
Only one thing that I know to be true
Every day is different, mama
And so are you
Ooh, ooh, ooh
I got to tell you
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther
Feelin farther down
Feelin down farther, baby
Feelin farther down
song performed by by Doobie Brothers

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speranza's Son
His poems and plays are literary gems his quotes popular today
A genius and a great poet with words he had a way
Incarcerated in Reading Jail he lived at a time
When for a man to love another man was looked on as a crime.
His mother was a great poet Speranza was her name
In the Dublin literary circles of her time she was one who knew fame
She gave to the World Oscar Wilde the truly enlightened one
What woman would not feel proud to give birth to such a son.
His father the antiquarian and gifted writer became famed far and wide
And as an expert on human diseases his worth could not be denied
But nowadays he is better known as Oscar's father the wit and literary great
A legend for the ages and one to celebrate.
The Importance of Being Earnest, The Ballad of Reading Jail
and Lady Windermere's Fan
From the pen of Speranza's son the renowned literary man
And though he died as a pauper in Paris from Dublin far away
Through his humorous quotes and insightful writings his legend lives today.
poem by Francis Duggan

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An Apology To The Reader Who Has Written Me A Message I Have Not Answered
AN APOLOGY TO THE READER WHO HAS WRITTEN A MESSAGE TO ME I HAVE NOT ANSWERED
The real apology is not this poem
It is one by one
Reader by reader
Answering each one
Who has ever written me.
It is reading all the poems of others
I do not want to say
A ‘real no’ or a ‘false yes’ to.
It is opening myself
To perhaps a true friend
To perhaps one whose writing
I see better than my own.
The real apology
Is in opening up to the poems of the many unknown others.
Will I do this
Will I give it the time
When I already am guilty
Of not using my limited time
To correct my past work?
Dear Reader,
I apologize, I do not know.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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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 by Paul McCartney

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stifle not the reader
Reading is an art,
reading is a tool.
Those who think it dumb,
must be such a fool.
Reading is enjoyment,
reading is a blast.
Reading is a separate entity
from the future and the past.
Reading is done in present,
though written in a tense.
Reading is about life,
in surprise or suspense.
Reading is a place of joy,
full of hope and song,
Reading is a place I feel
that I truly do belong.
A trapdoor to a fantasy,
A world thought lost to us,
Reading is a place of wonder,
a place that we can trust.
Why read about reality,
when I can delve into magic.
Why stifle my own happiness,
with scenarios so tragic.
Stifle not the reader,
for it is their choice alone.
Reading is an outlet,
for hearts that turned to stone.
A literary journal is intended to connect writer with reader; the role of the editor is to mediate.
quote by John Barton

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Like The Rhymes
I like the rhymes of the old fashioned rhymers the men and women of ballad and song
One can sense the rhythm and music in their verses to the bardic tradition they belong
Though in the twenty first century seen by many as out of fashion reading the rhyming stuff I still enjoy
Easy to understand not esoteric I've loved them since I was a school going boy
I cannot claim to be a judge of poetry since I'm not one with literary degrees
I just like rhyming stuff with lots of rhythm perhaps I am an easy one to please
The stuff quite popular in the nineteen fifties now seen as doggerel since the death of rhyme
What's fashionable now in ten years may seem outdated suppose that everything does have it's time
I loved the rhyming poems of my schooldays though that was years ago and far away
Perhaps I'm behind the times in my thinking since I enjoy reading old rhymes today
But then 'tis our different ways that makes us more interesting if we all thought the same how boring we would be
For it surely would be the death of discussion if everyone on all things did agree.
poem by Francis Duggan

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This Is The Story (Takes 1,2)
I play the song, it was our own
Your photograph's by my side
I know I can't forget you
So I don't even try
The note you left is in my hand
I read again what you say
You're sorry but you love him
And you've both gone away
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And it's the story
That is breaking my heart
An open fire, our favorite chair
I get a book from the shelf
But the words I am reading
Could apply to myself
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And it's the story
That is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, it's the story that is breaking my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Would Like It Better If
If I wrote to be liked,
I would not be read.
And I do like that some read,
What I write!
But I would like it better,
If I was fed...
By what it is I've said that is written...
And read by those who read what I wrote!
Finding a nibble to afford,
Liked And nourishes...
To feed the reader something read,
Coming from this writer's head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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Like So Many Poems I Read
LIKE SO MANY POEMS I READ
Like so many poems I read
These poems I am reading now
Are not poems to me.
They are too detached
Too abstract
Too up in the air.
I want to hear the words
Make a music of feeling
In my soul.
A poem must move me
If it is to be real.
Why then do I write these words
as if a poem?
poem by Shalom Freedman

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Old Man (Faraway)
old man, old man,
sitting in your chair;
tell me the story
behind your faraway stare.
i can see by your wrinkles,
and the scars on your hands.
it's been a long journey
from that faraway land.
tell me who and why you fought,
tell me what you won and lost.
tell me who that you loved,
and who paid the cost.
tell me what you learned,
would you do it all again?
have you made peace with yourself,
are you ready to go 'round the bend?
old man, old man....
sitting in your chair;
tell me the story
behind your faraway stare....
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Control Freak
Her father was a control freak.
He had to know what she was
reading and seeing and hearing
and whom she was meeting and
hey he said who was that kid I saw
you talking to outside school today?
Archie she said he's just a friend who
likes the bands I like oh so he says
her father said you know what he's
really after? I'll tell you shall I? she
hated it when he went on like that.
Hated his presumption of knowing
what other's thought or what their
deep desires were. He wants to get
inside your panties that's what he's
after her father said and she blushed
and said no he's not he's not that kind
of boy oh what you telling me the kid's
batting for his own team? Huh? Huh?
And some other time as she was reading
a Dostoevsky book he said who's he?
some Russian writer? You read the enemy?
What's a matter with good old American
writers? Not good enough? She closed
the book and put it away in her schoolbag
and took out a battered copy of Naked Lunch
by William Burroughs and started to read.
That's better a good old American writer
her father said and smiled and sat back in
his chair by the fire not knowing the book
opened out a different world for her and
a whole new other kind of deeper desire.
poem by Terry Collett

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The literary life
We went to the house
of Afrikaans poetry together
on weekends and spent hours there
and listened to the master lecture
and met some poet friends
around a table
with a drink or two.
Sometimes the poetry was Afrikaans,
English, Dutch or even German
and we learnt form poets
around the globe.
We discussed what we had
just learned,
asked about his views
of certain things,
or what people in the group think,
discussed poetry, life,
sometimes even politics
and philosophy
as individuals of a group.
We read our poems,
listened to other poets,
reading their own,
analysed every word, every line
comprehending meaning, impact
and sharpened our art.
Your poetry was really great,
from when I read the very first line,
but mine had still to grow
from rhyme into free verse.
At times I hated comments
that forced me to move,
but realized that it was meant
with great goodwill
and even though I was in pain
I sharpened my verse
and free verse brought
a clearer ear, making it
much easier to write
great rhyme.
Now that I had to leave Pretoria,
weekends I really miss
that great writing school,
new poems from great poets,
learning something there,
experiencing poetry at its core,
lectures from that great master
and verses of his own,
but much more
your poems.
poem by Gert Strydom

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Depth Not Volume
In between volume, there is depth,
For quality arises from the heap
Of the many drowning poems that is left -
Like sifting smelly goats from the sheep.
Discretion and taste fill the watchful
The test of the pudding, in the tasting
And a poem is said to be beautiful
If there's meaning and depth in its writing.
For the finest literary art
Is the work of an artist- writer
Skillfully weaving words from his heart
Giving birth to the poem he posts after.
Numbers do not substitute for beauty
Nor will quantity address reader's needs
It may even sacrifice the quality
And bonzai the writer's talent into weeds.
-----
Copyright Cynthia Buhain Baello
February 13,2010
Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello

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Which Poems Are True and Which Poems Only A Story?
WHICH POEMS ARE TRUE AND WHICH POEMS ONLY A STORY?
Which poems are true
and which poems only a story?
There are poems I have to write
They are the heart of who I am-
And other poems that tell a story my mind makes
And takes me where I do not know I'll ever really be-
There are real poems and there are imaginary poems-
And there are poems-in- between like this one.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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This Is The Story
(words & music by arnold - morrow - martin)
I play the song, it was our own
Your photographs by my side
I know I cant forget you
So I dont even try
The note you left is in my hand
I read again what you say
Youre sorry but you love him
And youve both gone away
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And its the story
That is breaking my heart
An open fire, our favorite chair
I get a book from the shelf
But the words I am reading
Could apply to myself
This is the story of a man
Whose world has fallen apart
And its the story
That is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
Yes, its the story that is breaking my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story Of The Poet
THE STORY OF THE POET
The story of the poet
Is told by his poems
A long long story
Of many small poems.
Can they be read?
Can they be known?
Can they be understood,
As the story they are?
The story of the poet
May forever be unknown-
And die with the poems
Never known.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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