But as the Pope has a long arm, which might reach me in France, I have gone a little out of the way to tell him the plain truths contained in these pages.
quote by Edmond About
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Pages
(graham russell)
When youre out in front and your life is unsure
What have you got goin for you after every road you turn
Its magic when you tell me and run your fingers through my hair
I dont need your persuasion, cos Im already there
Ive just read it through and I said to myself
Thats not really you, Ill keep myself to myself
Its magic when you tell me, and write the words I want to see
When I reach the last line, its just empty for me
Ive been learning so long, about the things you do
Ive been learning so long about you, about you
(chorus)
Empty pages Ive read you all through
Empty pages filled with spaces I fell in and I fell in
Empty pages Ive read you all through
Empty pages filled with spaces I fell in and I fell in.
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Page
(graham russell)
When you're out in front and your life is unsure
What have you got goin' for you after every road you turn
It's magic when you tell me and run your fingers through my hair
I don't need your persuasion, cos i'm already there
I've just read it through and i said to myself
That's not really you, i'll keep myself to myself
It's magic when you tell me, and write the words i want to see
When i reach the last line, it's just empty for me
I've been learning so long, about the things you do
I've been learning so long about you, about you
(chorus)
Empty pages i've read you all through
Empty pages filled with spaces i fell in and i fell in
Empty pages i've read you all through
Empty pages filled with spaces i fell in and i fell in.
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eighteenth-Nineteenth Century Verse
France is the country of poems and prose
the lovely French language tells us so.
Romantic love in classical verse
dates back to Voltaire from days long ago.
The 18th century brought poets from Paris
writing about France and the Seine,
and so many other Parisian wonders
that lie in that fertile plain.
Yes France was a country of talent
In England, Wordsworth stole the scene
whilst Coleridge, another fine English poet
wrote lyrical verse about Pastures Green.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Cobblestones
The coffin, set up as coffins always are, near the grave, contained the father. The sentence, set up as sentences always are, on the page, contained the words. The meat package, set up as meat packages always are, with cellophane covering, contained the chops. The synagogue, set up as synagogues always are, for people, contained the rabbi. The classroom, set up as classrooms always are, for chairs, contained the professor. The coffin, set up as coffins always are, beside the grave, contained the mother. The word, set up as words always are, beyond hearing, contained the syllables. The prose, set up as prose always is, in census-rectangles, contained the phenomena. The nation, set up as nations always are, in questionnaire rooms, contained the sworn. The can, set up as cans always are, with ornate paper covers, contained the chicken o’noodle soup, with the circular noodles. Abacus, guitar, and quipu, set up as abacus, guitar and quipu always are, hieratically on notional strings, contained tobacco’s troubadours. The coffin, set up as coffins always are, next to the grave, contained the sister. The elegy, set up as elegies always are, dishonestly, contained the family. The steak, set up as steaks always are, artificially reddened, contained the fat. The rectangular venetian blinds, set up as rectangular venetian blinds always are, in the windowframe, contained the slats. The DNA, set up as DNA always is, in double helixes, contained the and. The word people, set up as the word people always is, in writing, contained the o.
poem by Aaron Fogel
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Ann
She and I met so very long ago
When times were different and very slow
She had caught my heart which I won't deny
Oh how I do wish, I had let her inside.
I remember her smile as the noon day sun
When her life was beginning and mine had begun
Together we were one but that was my thought
As that arrow from cupid she had never caught.
Would I had fought for her love I know that I would
Would I had lived for her now I wish that I could
She says that I shouldn’t but I say that I can
Oh how I need and want, my precious Ann.
In my mind I reach with a quivering hand
Though to her and then to all to make my stand
But then came reality and she was not there
So I close my mind sadly, to GOD I said a prayer.
I turn back the pages of the loves of my life
I see girlfriends and lovers and even a wife
But one of those pages was intentionally left blank
Was it from a love whose emotions I had not drank.
I now reach out to hold her from my abyss
But will she step away from my hands and my lips
Again I will reach for that woman, as I to be her man
Oh how I need and want, my precious Ann.
poem by Randy McClave
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Seasoned As Truths
Truths and lies are flown in the sky.
Their flights are from the wind they take.
Truths might hit dunes and go buried.
Lies might reach towers and stay there.
What stays in scriptures and epics,
What stay in histories and legends
And what remain from hear-say
Can be the lies seasoned as truths
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Divine in Contemplation
The goal of man is to be as god,
To reach out to the divine in contemplation
And so return as far as possible to the divine source.
Seek the hidden truths contained
Within the scriptures of your lore
Seek to restore your unity
But know you must remain
For this life is one worth living
Our love is love worth giving
And though the priesthoods of our race
May claim knowledge beyond the consideration
Of most, what they know are but ghosts of the truth
Our grandmother’s contained in their eyes.
The gods of every sphere know true a heart of gold
This they know as every soul is a story to unfold.
Each will know true the kiss of the gods within their time
Each will know their soul as one with yours as well as mine
Each will know the midnight sun to radiate and shine
Each will know the all as one, those shackled and those blind.
Consider not that the scholar lost within a realm of scrolls
Shall ever know more than the rambling man who allows
Dawn to kiss his soul. Embrace the freedom of the valley,
Allow the muse room within your garden sanctuary
And there she may sing soft lullabies to your children.
poem by David Lacey
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'Tis not enough your counsel still be true; Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.
quote by Alexander Pope
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All human discoveries seem to be made only for the purpose of confirming more strongly the truths come from on high, and contained in the sacred writings.
quote by William Herschel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are no whole truths; all truths are half-truths. It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays the devil.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are no whole truths: all truths are half-truths. It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays to the devil.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written In Blood And Love
In pages written in blood, in pages written love.
Stories are told of you grow old together.
Live to dieing forever.
Scarred by the pain of misery.
Scarred by the imperfections the have created so many rejections.
Give me the antidote to the poison that I have slipped in my own drink.
Let me breath the life in again.
Drowned out all the cowardliness of my angel who holding me up.
Such a beautiful crutch.
Still in the pages written in blood, in the pages written love.
We are just one of millions.
Every story is the same.
All that's changed is the names, places, and faces.
Erase it all.
Rewrite the entire fall.
Let the wind take me.
Let the lightning strike me here and now.
For i will not let it cloud my judgement.
No matter the storm that's brought on.
In the pages written in blood, in the pages written in love
Hate me for the right reasons
Hate me because I am what you wanted me to be.
In all the irony.
I didn't change for you.
It was done way before you came along and sang your song.
All the pages have been written, in blood and love.
The Shakespeare play Romeo and Juliet to the fullest.
Its the cruelest games in tragedy strikes without a ounce of leniency.
No mercy to those who are jumping without a life line.
Protection against the evil of an accident so quick.
A slip becomes a fall.
Next your trying to stall buy a little time.
But its in vain.
Nothing can be changed.
Its sink or swim till you reach shore.
So long off stripped of everything you thought was important.
Values so mixed up in these pages written in blood, in the pages written in love.
We have killed another pair of doves.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unchanging Truth
It’s the Truth alone we must defend, as believers to the very end,
God’s Word with no additions to, Truths revealed to me and you,
It is God’s Eternal Truth alone, which is embraced by God’s Own,
Not following men who’ve erred, but fully trusting in God’s Word.
As our God remains the same, such is Truth that bears His name,
The Word of God through all ages, is unchanged on all its pages,
Truth that has so long endured, penned by The Spirit of The Lord,
While all Scripture is God Inspired, to produce results He desired.
When Eternal Truth, is rejected, men, not God, must be corrected;
To me, it is more than strange, that men, believe they can change,
The Eternal Words, God decreed, to suit their own, religious need,
But, they’ll find this spiritual path, will only invite The Lord’s Wrath.
God’s not a man, that He can lie, and all His Truth, He won’t deny,
Neither will He change His mind, to leave His Eternal Truth behind,
All that God said, shall be fulfilled, exactly as our Lord has willed,
For God’s Eternal, Sovereign Plan, is not changed by earthly man.
Lies for Truths, men exchange, but God’s Word, does not change,
All of The Truths that we read, are not to be changed, but to heed,
To guide souls from every nation, to The Truth of God’s Salvation,
Offered through Unaltered Grace; the only Truth we must embrace.
(Copyright ©06/2010)
Commanders Of The Faithful
The Pope he is a happy man,
His Palace is the Vatican,
And there he sits and drains his can:
The Pope he is a happy man.
I often say when I'm at home,
I'd like to be the Pope of Rome.
And then there's Sultan Saladin,
That Turkish Soldan full of sin;
He has a hundred wives at least,
By which his pleasure is increased:
I've often wished, I hope no sin,
That I were Sultan Saladin.
But no, the Pope no wife may choose,
And so I would not wear his shoes;
No wine may drink the proud Paynim,
And so I'd rather not be him:
My wife, my wine, I love, I hope,
And would be neither Turk nor Pope.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Out Of Reach
Every day just seems so long
Every minute that I'm here without you
Will tomorrow ever come
Will I ever get a chance to feel you
I need you so much
You're out of reach
You're out of reach but you're so close
I hear you cough I feel you fall
But you're out of reach
Another room I can't hide
Another night without you here beside me
Cause I don't want to fake it
I'm just trying to make it yeah
I need you so much
You're out of reach
You're out of reach but you're so close
You're out of reach
You're out of reach but you're so close
You're out of reach
You're out of reach but you're so close
song performed by by BBMak from Into Your Head
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It often happens that I wake up at night and begin to think about a serious problem and decide I must tell the Pope about it. Then I wake up completely and remember that I am the Pope.
quote by Pope John XXIII
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Lies
Beautiful lies
Take us on the wings of might
Towards the skies infinite
And then dropp us on the heaps of truths-
Brutal truths buried.
Beautiful lies
Get painted on a marvelleous canvas of light
Against the background in twillight
And then shed the shadows of truths-
Barren truths ferried.
Beautiful lies
Send the beams of delight
In the dark chambers made of granite
And then surmount me with truths-
Nightmarish truths married.
Still in the thick coats of beautiful lies
I veil my frame when the Sun is on
And in the cradle of their rhymes
I find my sleep when the Fun is gone.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Any education that matters is liberal. All the saving truths, all the healing graces that distinguish a good education from a bad one or a full education from a half empty one are contained in that word.
quote by Alan Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plain Gold Ring
Earl s. burroughs
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
It was where everyone could see
He belonged to someone, but not me
On his hand was a plain gold band
Plain gold ring has a story to tell
It was one that I knew too well
In my heart it will never be spring
Long as he wears a plain gold ring
Oh, oh
When nighttime comes a callin on me
I know why I will never be free
I cant stop these teardrops of mine
Im gonna love him till the end of time
Plain gold ring has but one thing to say
Ill remember till my dying day
In my heart it will never be spring
Long as he wears a plain gold ring
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
Plain gold ring on his finger he wore
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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