Antonio: What's past is prologue.
line from The Tempest, Act II, Scene 1 by William Shakespeare (1611)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Related quotes
Somewhere
Did you know that this time would be your very last?
Did you watch your life flash past?
Did you fly to heaven from earth?
Did you know how much you were worth?
Did you see how much they cried
On the night your body died?
But now i know you're somewhere good.
And if we could take your place, we would.
Because we believe, and yes its true,
That nobody should die who was as good as you.
But i think because you had to go,
I think somewhere, somewhere, you know,
Antonio
R.I.P. Antonio Johnson
Truism Sonnet
Truisms become truth, as justice become adjudication;
Knowledge becomes reality, and reality, life's education!
My heart has stopped beating since 2007, that Veteran's Day;
Ached has it since, more than I could ever say!
Our life together, so amazing, so true;
Our family, together, so beauteous and new;
Though, KMKG is what we may be proclaimed:
Kristina, Maurice, Kalina and Gabriella, who we are, in name!
What is past is prologue, or so it may be said;
What is past affects us, until are days are dead;
What is past never ceases, nor leaves us alone;
What is past ne'er halts, until we have truly grown!
Whensover my love, you allow past to leave us-
Then only my beloved, will you truly see us!
Maurice Harris,8 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Girl In You Antonio?
the girl in you antonio
must have been smothered
all the red ribbons now kept
secret in your closets but
now the woman speaks
about the porcelain plates
and the scented water
that lay so cold in the tub.
the girl in you antonio
does not die, it creeps
like a lizard in your skin
and faces you as a doll.
if indeed the child is the
father of man, so antonio
the girl in you shall be the
mother of all your desires.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
San Antonio Rose
(words & music: bob wills)
... remember alone in my heart
Call back my love of san antonio
Just pretend like tales fall apart
Think once again of my love, my own
A few words not known .... my heart I belong...
I dont know... of my rose in san antonio
Growing all this tender lala heart
Call back my love in san antonio
Its so sweet and tender like peddles fall apart....
Rose in san antonio... know my rose in san antonio
(note: sorry... but I couldnt make more of it)
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Songs of the High Country
Soria, in blue mountains,
on the fields of violet,
how often I’ve dreamed of you
on the plain of flowers,
where the Guadalquiviŕ runs
past golden orange-trees
to the sea.
poem by Antonio Machado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Courtship is to marriage, as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.
quote by William Congreve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Monkey - a prologue to the end of the world
A prologue to the end of the world.
It's the middle of the night
I'm wide awake in my room
Light shinning from the streetlight and not from the moon
Pictures on the wall
Lampshade above my head
Head on my pillow, one leg out of bed
Thinking of her
Thinking of the past
Wonder what she's doing, wonder why our relationship didn't last
Not everything in life is easy
Not everything in life is there to please
Can't say I'm happy
Can't say I'm sad
Want to do more in life
Want to ride my motorbike
The world is ending soon
Where will you be?
Rocket to Mars or back to living in the trees
Monkey
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Have I told you.....
the past
have turn back
with you and my dream
I believe would
only been a part of your perkily
ingredient of spirited
shadowed of
the past
I have been words
of lips in your heart, settle without
touching the bright hidden eye of love
and lots of something
that the past couldn’t say good bye, even
a dream of a toss of coin
I have realize that you are the first kiss
that light the
beginning of the end of
my spell
I can show you now, the magic of the
heart, moving toward the
wonder of your dream; a display of fantastic
journey that no one
can tell the new horizon of appeal
in you
molded like pot in the furnace of fire,
the droplets of dew blew in the
field of dried meadow,
shatter pain comes no more for today and the
whisper leads me to listen
to the way of what is gone of that day on
the hay
always shade me in your heart
and push near to the way
of going out
with me now …..
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Knight
the past
have turn back
with you and my dream
I believe would
only been a part of your perkily
ingredient of spirited
shadowed of
the past
I have been words
of lips in your heart, settle without
touching the bright hidden eye of love
and lots of something
that the past couldn’t say good bye, even
a dream of a toss of coin
I have realize that you are the first kiss
that light the
beginning of the end of
my spell
I can show you now, the magic of the
heart, moving toward the
wonder of your dream; a display of fantastic
journey that no one
can tell the new horizon of appeal
in you
molded like pot in the furnace of fire,
the droplets of dew blew in the
field of dried meadow,
shatter pain comes no more for today and the
whisper leads me to listen
to the way of what is gone of that day on
the hay
always shade me in your heart
and push near to the way
of going out
with me now …..
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Blank Canvas
The many years I have lived without your embrace
Should suffice as penance, so that you may face
The prospect of forgiveness, vis-a-vis my once-held fears
That cost us a life together, while gifting only tears!
What is past is prologue, yet a blank canvas remains
With which we may paint a future together, to erase the pains
Of all that my mistake has taken from us.
All we need is the faith in our hearts, and some trust
In the serendipity of our divine re-acquaintance-
Where once there was anxious trepidation, there is now only patience
And the conviction of a soul, which needs for its mate.
My life is obsequious to the powers of fate,
Which brought us back to one another, so that we are now nigh-
Close enough to give one another try!
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sexy Pablo
lol going back in detail
to some previous discussion
we finally conclude
art dealers made a decision of a century
of a century man at the age of 2012
to sex up Picasso's headlines
for Antonio man
Antonio's going to be
a sexy Pablo
guess for the girls
who think on Monday only? ? ? ?
I think the graveyards
are dying from laughter
suffering from death
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Putting the past behind
would anyone believed that all have gone
into the limbo of the past, where the flame of fire
lives in the light of memories
what a trust that shakes the wound that
never failed, a realistic of the present of
the past struggle to the blindness of everything
of pain and suffering have gone
tie me into the day where i could hide my
emotional depression hold me where every
stings of fang sweeten my thirst, push my
being of every sweat flows from my half
naked body, where you can feel the sweetness
of my tears of blood
what a wonderful genre, where every past,
healed in your shadowing day, what then is the
prize where i say to myself that you come to
capture my pain; of nowhere i can stand my own
stay as you could for this is not the twilight zone of
what is the future to live, have the dawn brings
it’s light for in every future there is always the spark
a remembrance of may
need not only your love that heals the would, rather
fix it up with the solemnity of your life breaking touch
that within you is the answer of this happing mode
of freedom to live
the past have lend us to believe and thwarting us the
fulfillment that we almost reach what the present joy
of living with you forever
please live the past for everything........my Love
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Amazing Horizon
placidly
stream flows go
to the sea of hope...... I will
always be waiting of
your
return...wonting
to feel the
inner passion of your Being......awaits and goes
no more
to the fading sun, as the star
in a memories of days, a minute
dawn the darkness side of your way....... always
hold and touch
my wings......
and i say stay with me..... till
i've gone in the
past of the
sun
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Off Today
where the door is close, wish that it will be open, see the
naked self and ask for nothing than a blessing that a wish
of cleverness embrace the loneliness of ages come
find the glance of grace, as the hands wrinkle the
dying blossom flesh of yesteryear's alertness as it
past the glory of wonderful moment of vagueness, whom
the conqueror's fate has suddenly fade
wisdom loose to dream, where the brave still fight
to see the victory, tongue split no words, by the node,
everything come to find the glorified hero of the
past, stand stood as it used to be, for every strength is
but a sweat of sweet remembrance of what
is today be Alive
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A popular government without popular information or the means of acquiring it, is but a prologue to a farce, or a tragedy, or perhaps both.
quote by James Madison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Idle reader: thou mayest believe me without any oath that I would this book, as it is the child of my brain, were the fairest, gayest, and cleverest that could be imagined.
Miguel de Cervantes in Don Quixote de la Mancha (Prologue) (1605)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Spanish | In Italian | In Romanian
Lend the Tears
lying in bed
imagining the sleepiness night
thinking of you; a reason
why the flower
ready to touch and detach,
patiently gone and letting each
leaves to weather
under the sun, the reason
why watching
the whole day gives the birds and butterfly
to fly
slash wit my solemn tears
of the past,
enjoyed the water lucidly, clear the way
to the river full,
a great moment of satisfaction lent for
a whole moment of the past
peril the wings
as you go and wonder the green of
meadow’s plain, now shred
the cup that leads my
stoked all have just move
in the valley of joy,
where you want to carry, until laughter fail
in my hand
understand
my iniquities and scoffed
my imagination …..
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just A Traveler
morning have open the mist,
just as the scattered blowing wind, where
hundred of hour past, a hymn of
celebrated feast
of memories to live, thou it never be
the same again i stayed in the road
to live
rock it with sweet mistake, drink with
an honest caprices, and blind me of
laziness for only the good have
to kiss your lips in vain
would be it simple, where the eyes is
close and the spirit is open,
shall all things be past and the present
will lead you to rest;
yes! the tomb is
special and its cloth is made of a linen,
then what makes it a better person when
all are gone and the well is dried
bring me the oil and you shall be burn to
pieces to live...
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Guadarrama
Guadarrama, is it you, old friend,
mountains white and gray
that I used to see painted against the blue
those afternoons of the old days in Madrid?
Up your deep ravines
and past your bristling peaks
a thousand Guadarramas and a thousand suns
come riding with me, riding to your heart.
poem by Antonio Machado
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!