Stories are different every time you tell them - they allow so many possible narratives.
quote by David Antin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in broken, fractured, complicated narratives, but I believe in narratives as a vehicle for truth, not simply as a form of entertainment, though I love entertainment, but also a way of conveying what needs to be conveyed about the works that I care about.
quote by Stephen Greenblatt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories
Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reams Of Verse
he wrote and rewrote
revised and edited
what he called verse
narratives in meter
stories of lowlifes
and heroes
werewolves
and teachers
gangbangers
and beat cops
all the gritty life
in a big city
heroic too
the epic struggle
never say die
keep on trucking
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Stories
when we were young stories were told
That I'd kiss you sweet like
People said there was a connection between us
Now that we're old stories are told
Of how I hold you tight
Whenever I see those people I tell them they were right
Stories will be told
From when our children are young
until they're old
About our endless love
We must have had a blessing from above
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Until the sun won't rise
Oh
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Narratives
Narratives we tell to show
who we believe we are deceive
the listeners who are forced to go
with that one version they receive,
because we’ve may others we
can tell to different people to
impress them with our pedigree
and perspicacious points of view.
Do we from truth take long excursions
by changing tales about ourselves,
to find as many different versions
as books in volumes on our shelves?
No, there’s some truth in each refrain,
for every life is like a ballad
with different verses that explain
its variations, each as valid
as the next one, contradictions
all harmonized with disappearance
of prejudice about the fictions
that help to give the facts coherence.
Inspired by Benedict Carey, who writes about narratives we tell of our lives (“This Is Your Life (and How You Tell It, ” NYT, May 22,2007) :
For more than a century, researchers have been trying to work out the raw ingredients that account for personality, the sweetness and neuroses that make Anna Anna, the sluggishness and sensitivity that make Andrew Andrew. They have largely ignored the first-person explanation — the life story that people themselves tell about who they are, and why. Stories are stories, after all. The attractive stranger at the airport bar hears one version, the parole officer another, and the P.T.A. board gets something entirely different. Moreover, the tone, the lessons, even the facts in a life story can all shift in the changing light of a person’s mood, its major notes turning minor, its depths appearing shallow. Yet in the past decade or so a handful of psychologists have argued that the quicksilver elements of personal narrative belong in any three-dimensional picture of personality. And a burst of new findings are now helping them make the case. Generous, civic-minded adults from diverse backgrounds tell life stories with very similar and telling features, studies find; so likewise do people who have overcome mental distress through psychotherapy. Every American may be working on a screenplay, but we are also continually updating a treatment of our own life — and the way in which we visualize each scene not only shapes how we think about ourselves, but how we behave, new studies find. By better understanding how life stories are built, this work suggests, people may be able to alter their own narrative, in small ways and perhaps large ones. “When we first started studying life stories, people thought it was just idle curiosity — stories, isn’t that cool? ” said Dan P. McAdams, a professor of psychology at Northwestern and author of the 2006 book, “The Redemptive Self.” “Well, we find that these narratives guide behavior in every moment, and frame not only how we see the past but how we see ourselves in the future.” Researchers have found that the human brain has a natural affinity for narrative construction. People tend to remember facts more accurately if they encounter them in a story rather than in a list, studies find; and they rate legal arguments as more convincing when built into narrative tales rather than on legal precedent.
5/22/07
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Wondrous Stories
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wondrous Stories
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories
Every year has its own stories in this life,
Every month has its own stories in this life,
Every week has its own stories in this life,
Every day has its own stories in this life,
Every hour has its own stories in this life,
Every minute has its own stories in this life,
And like the muse of the mind as we grow up;
So, we are all with stories to tell in this world.
As white as snow,
As red as blood,
As balck as charcoal,
As green as the grass,
As blue as the sky;
But everybody has stories to tell in this world!
And like the muse o love in the land of beauty,
For each year has its own story.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wonderous Stories
(anderson)
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wonderous Stories
(anderson)
I awoke this morning
Love laid me down by a river.
Drifting I turned on upstream
Bound for my forgiver.
In the giving of my eyes to see your face.
Sound did silence me
Leaving no trace.
I beg to leave, to hear your wonderous stories.
Beg to hear your wonderous stories.
He spoke of lands not far
Or lands they were in his mind.
Of fusion captured high
Where reason captured his time.
In no time at all he took me to the gate.
In haste I quickly checked the time.
If I was late I had to leave to hear your wonderous stories.
Had to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing
Hearing
Hearing your wonderous stories.
Hearing your wonderous stories.
It is no lie I can see deeply into the future.
Imagine everything
Youre close
And were you there to stand
So cautiously at first and then so high.
As he spoke my spirit climbed into the sky.
I bid it to return
To hear your wonderous stories.
Return to hear your wonderous stories.
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
Hearing,
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stories
The stories
Night bed its mats
And also we are
Wait and see
The narrative begins with the story
The stories of long time ago
Between fact and fiction
The stories from the ends of the earth
And depth of the ocean
We draw the characters and imagine
Live roles
And sail far and far
And overwhelmed with happiness
And the longing pulls us
And eyebrows painted terms on our faces
The story behind the story
Delight our nights
The stories of my grandmother.
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Stories We Could Tell
By: john b. sebastian
1974
Talkin to myself again
Wonderin if this travellin is good
Is there somethin else a doin
Wed be doin if we could
Chorus:
But ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories we could tell
Stared at that guitar in that museum in tennessee
Nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
Scars upon the face told of all the times he fell
Singin all the stories he could tell
Chorus:
Ah, the stories he could tell
And Ill bet you it still rings like a bell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
And listen to the stories it could tell
So if youre on the road trackin down your every night
Playin for a livin beneath brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride the carousel
You do it for the stories you can tell
Ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Just listen to the stories we could tell
Coda:
Yes, I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories it could tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most politicians - those people who live, eat and breathe politics - like to sit around and talk about politics and tell political war stories. Reagan didn't do that. His war stories were movie war stories and Hollywood war stories. He loved that.
quote by Lyn Nofziger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, religion has been passed down through the years by stories people tell around the campfire. Stories about God, stories about love. Stories about good spirits and evil spirits.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Stories
some stories
about ourselves
are also the stories of
themselves
and then we write
these stories and
pretend that these are
but some short stories
from our mind
now in different names
and places
we read them and then
we wish that some of
these short stories
are not true at all
sometimes for those
we want to be
we want to believe
them to be true
wishes and hopes and
regrets, what if? what if i
chose that rather than this?
we poets write about pain
and joys and we tell sometimes
that we only fake them
deep inside we are silent
we prefer just to be left alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You see, I was told stories, we were all told stories as kids in Nigeria. We had to tell stories that would keep one another interested, and you weren't allowed to tell stories that everybody else knew. You had to dream up new ones.
Certain truths about human beings have never changed. We are tribal creatures in our very DNA; we have an instinctive preference for our own over others, for "in-groups" over "out-groups"; for hunter-gatherers, recognizing strangers as threats was a matter of life and death. We also invent myths and stories to give meaning to our common lives. Among those myths is the nation - stretching from the past into the future, providing meaning to our common lives in a way nothing else can. Strip those narratives away, or transform them too quickly, and humans will become disoriented. Most of us respond to radical changes in our lives, especially changes we haven’t chosen, with more fear than hope.
quote by Andrew Sullivan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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We breathe, we think, we conceive of our lives as narratives.
quote by Christopher Lehmann-Haupt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell Me
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
Every time you stay
It never feels quite the same
An every time you go
It hurts a way you'll never know
I guess your stories make me feel
Like its alright now
Everything i fear
Shows itself every time you're here
And everything I know
Leaves with you every time you go
I wish your stories
Could erase everything that i said
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
You loook that way
Don't want to see you look that way
You talk that way
Dont want to feel this way
Tell me what its like to be with you
Remind me of the things we used to do
And tell me that this time will ne ver end
Tell me what its like
Tell me again
song performed by by Goldfinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Passion narratives are the first pieces of the Gospels that were composed as a unity.
quote by Hans Urs von Balthasar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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