In the later books I am much more at home in the use of language to describe things. I had never thought of that until a critic pointed that out.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dilemma
Filled with a zeal to serve my fellow men,
For years I criticised their prose and verges:
Pointed out all their blunders of the pen,
Their shallowness of thought and feeling; then
Damned them up hill and down with hearty curses!
They said: 'That's all that he can do-just sneer,
And pull to pieces and be analytic.
Why doesn't he himself, eschewing fear,
Publish a book or two, and so appear
As one who has the right to be a critic?
'Let him who knows it all forbear to tell
How little others know, but show his learning.'
The public added: 'Who has written well
May censure freely'-quoting Pope. I fell
Into the trap and books began out-turning,
Books by the score-fine prose and poems fair,
And not a book of them but was a terror,
They were so great and perfect; though I swear
I tried right hard to work in, here and there,
(My nature still forbade) a fault or error.
'Tis true, some wretches, whom I'd scratched, no doubt,
Professed to find-but that's a trifling matter.
Now, when the flood of noble books was out
I raised o'er all that land a joyous shout,
Till I was thought as mad as any hatter!
(Why hatters all are mad, I cannot say.
'T were wrong in their affliction to revile 'em,
But truly, you'll confess 'tis very sad
We wear the ugly things they make. Begad,
They'd be less mischievous in an asylum!)
'Consistency, thou art a'-well, you're _paste_!
When next I felt my demon in possession,
And made the field of authorship a waste,
All said of me: 'What execrable taste,
To rail at others of his own profession!'
Good Lord! where do the critic's rights begin
Who has of literature some clear-cut notion,
And hears a voice from Heaven say: 'Pitch in'?
He finds himself-alas, poor son of sin
Between the devil and the deep blue ocean!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tell Me 10 Words
I have to stop saying "to be honest", it's not a real defeat
To have to stop saying "to be honest", it's not a great defeat
(No, no, no, not such a great defeat)
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
Can you tell me 10 words that you'd use, to describe the world
Can you tell me 10 words that you've used, to describe the world
To people, through people, never seem to know
To people, through people, never know
The more I say the more I keep confusing things, to make me feel complete
So I keep lying to be honest, it's not a real defeat
No, no, no, not such a real defeat
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
Can you tell me 10 words that you'd use, to describe the world
Can you tell me 10 words that you've used, to describe the world
To people, through people, never seem to know
To people, through people, never know
It's what you thought you are, it's what you thought you are
It's what you thought you are,
It's what you never thought you are, it's what you never thought you are
It's what you thought you could be if you tried much harder
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
All these things that you don't know, it seems so much better that way
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are armed with language adequate to describe each leaf of the filed, but not to describe human character.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are Just Years
i thought home is where we went when we fell out of favour
ive since learned that home is where we go to learn what favours are
home is a language we all understand
and this is how the language came to me
i realise
home is where we dont feel things
fortune has arranged that the language wont abandon us
it never will abandon us
if you dont miss your home
i cant remember much about my home
when im away from...
home, where were welcome
we appear to be like you
the were welcome when we
appear to be alike
living in fiction
just seems much better than living in words
if you live in fiction
homes no match for a word
ever existence
the more you go on the same as before
the more you light up the same as this time
the more you sing
all your songs about
all your...
living in fiction
is much more better than living in words
if you live in fiction
homes much better than words
living in fiction
just seems much better than living in words
if you live in fiction
then homes no better than words
im in fiction [x6]
and what i see it seems so standard
it always seems that youre left stranded [x6]
why dont you look beond
the village wall?
look beyond the village wall
weve got four walls at home
got four walls at home
and these walls around your head
thats what they are
theyre walls around your head
an empty head is creative
and direct me
to where you come from
and what you thought you knew
where you come from
[?]
home is the most overused word [x4]
love is the most overused word
just are the most overused words
picture this the most
song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The critic should describe, and not prescribe.
quote by Eugene Ionesco
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Postcards Home
Eyes open as the light streams through the curtain
Only half closed and the kink in my neck
And sleeping in my clothes again
Reminds me that Im not home
Gotta go because were leaving on a fifteen hour drive
But Ill call you sometime soon to let you know that Im alright
Do you know what the world can bring
I wish you were here with me
To see the things that words cannot describe
Sincerely me so long goodbye
Its three am and were driving through the desert
And the moons bright so bright in fact
That I can almost write you without turning on the map light
But I gotta let you go now because its my turn to drive
But Ill have so much to tell you at home when we arrive
Do you know what the world can bring
I wish you were here with me
To see the things that words cannot describe
Sincerely me so long goodbye so long goodbye
Do you know what the world can bring
I wish you were here with me
To see the things that words cannot describe
Sincerely me so long goodbye
song performed by by Unsung Zeros
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Since You Went Away
You said you couldnt tell the doormat from my face
You said if I had brains I would pawn them
Could be Ive finally gotten up off of my thumbs
Could be that youre the one that was on them
Cause the plants have grown
The dog came home
The bills are all getting paid
Things are much better since you went away
And Ive changed my looks
I read new books
Ive got friends that mean what they say
Things are much better since you went away
You said without your help I couldnt tie my shoes
You said without a doubt Id be stranded
Could be that you were right and you had to fly the coop
Could be the eagle finally has landed
Cause the plants have grown
The dog came home
The bills are all getting paid
Things are much better since you went away
And Ive changed my looks
I read new books
Ive got friends that mean what they say
Things are much better since you went away
When I was younger I was told without another
Id be incomplete and deflated
My chosen one has chosen to befriend another
And to my surprise -
Im elated!
Cause the plants have grown
The dog came home
The bills are all getting paid
Things are much better since you went away
And Ive changed my looks
I read new books
Ive got friends that mean what they say
Things are much better since you went away
[repeat]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wicket Cricket Critic
If the cricket critics' nagging
Merits stern official gagging
Which I doubt
How would critical ascetics,
With their prosy homiletics,
Shut it out?
And the question then arises:
If more cricketing surprises,
Such as bodyline, begin to threaten cricket,
And another stunt, when sprung,
Call for clicking of the tongue,
Should a cricket critic critically click it?
When the barrackers grow lyric
In a manner most satiric
And profane,
How, one ventures still to wonder,
May the clamor be kept under?
How restrain?
For one barbaric larrik-
In can do a lot of barrack-
In', and cause a lot of worry at the wicket.
But would sportsmen be abusing
Cricket canons in refusing
To supply that cricket critic with a ticket?
As a critic analytic
Of the cricket critics' critic
I would say,
When we criticise their cricket,
Then the players have to stick it,
Come what may.
No specific soporific
May be used; for it is diffic-
Ult to strike a critic partly paralytic.
So there's nothing gained in seeking,
As I know; and I am speaking
As a critic of the cricket critic's critic.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Language I Feel Most At Home In
THE LANGUAGE I FEEL MOST AT HOME IN
The language I feel most at home in
Is not my own.
My own sacred language
Is my second best.
English is too great for me
And I am not like Joyce
Able to contend with and transcend it –
I write my small lines in the language
Shakespeare is the glass of fashion and the mould of form of –
I one more minor actor in a cast of many millions
Play my words upon the page as best I can.
But why mind and remember me and mine
When there are so many and so so much far greater?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What is in a language?
Language carries in it the history of a people
The history that begins way before
The conception of that particular language
Every myth, idiom, or story told carries
In it the memories of an ancient infancy
Of a development that comes in stages
As that of a child crawling, walking
Developing a thought, a philosophy
Creating poetry and song
What is in a language is not just relevant
To the people that use it, but it is also relevant
To the entire community of languages
Like the fragments of a great puzzle
Every language has in it the bits and pieces
Lessons to be learned; things significant
To the history of mankind, things significant
To the growth and development of all
poem by LLM Mbatha
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The Writings Of A Writer
When my life is in despair
Against the wall I stand
And out the window stare
Towards the soft clouds
That seem to drift over head
Then in my mind a thought
Buds and blooms into an inspiration
My hand reaches out for papers and pen
Then as thoughts materialize in my mind
Words to describe it become frequent
Then with pen in hand and paper against the wall
I begin to describe everything my mind saw
Things of beauty, things grotesque
Moments of happiness, moments of stress
All captured within an inspiration
After a moments thought
And put down on paper
As a poem, book or a song
After it has been manipulated into shape
Within all the tenderness it can get
The format is laid out and the final closing set
(date written unknown)
poem by David Harris
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Blu Is A Mood
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
When you're feelin' kinda melancholy
And ya get somethin' never thought about
Outta nowhere
Once in a while there's a special moon
And a clear sky colored pale azure
They all have something in common
And it's blu
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
So bright it can be electric
Or indigo
Cobalt
Powder
Or Paris
Have it any way you like
Stones of metamorphic sapphirine
>From the heavens down to the deepest sea
It's in every part of your life
Do you feel it
State of mind
Color
Way beyond
Yonder
Deeper
Paradise
All describe
All describe
Blu is a mood
Blu's not just a primary color
It's a backdrop for the univere
SO if you're vibing on this chill atmoshpere
Baby you have been blue
song performed by by Blu Cantrell from So Blu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Many Poems/How Can One Possibly Begin To Describe
SO MANY POEMS/ HOW CAN ONE POSSIBLY BEGIN TO DESCRIBE
So many poems.
How can one possibly begin to describe
The many beautiful things
We meet in our lives?
So much is too much for the eyes
Words certainly cannot describe
The Beauty we see
Being alive.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I asked a French critic a couple of years ago why my books did so well in France. He said it was because in my novels people both act and think. I got a kick out of that.
quote by Jim Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Language In Our Lungs
There is no language in our lungs
To tell the world just how we feel
No bridge of thought
No mental link
No letting out just what you think
There is no language in our lungs
There is no muscle in our tongues
To tell the world whats in our hearts
No were leaving nothing
Just chiselled stones
No chance to speak before were bones
There is no muscle in our tongues
I thought I had the whole world in my mouth
I thought I could say what I wanted to say
For a second that thought became a sword in my hand
I could slay any problem that would stand in my way
I felt just like a crusader
Lionheart, a holy land invader
But nobody can say what they really mean to say and
The impotency of speech came up and hit me that day and
I would have made this instrumental
But the words got in the way
There is no language in our...
There is no language in our lungs
To tell the world whats in our hearts
No were leaving nothing behind
Just chiselled stones
No chance to speak before were bones
There is no language in our lungs.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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5. My Bitten Finger
Much bolder than a lion
As crafty as a fox
That little furry hamster
I took home in a box
In the pet shop looking cuddly
Picked quickly didn’t linger
I should have seen the warning signs
When it bit my middle finger
I picked it for its cuteness
Dark brown with bright red eyes
I pointed out the one I’d picked
Imagine my surprise
It reared up where I pointed
Its whiskers started twitching
Then bit into my finger
For sure it needed stitching
The owner thought it funny
I tried to shake it free
This furry little ball of fluff
Had certainly picked me
poem by David Threadgold (2008)
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Those Terms
Define those terms that need a distance,
They must be distant and far away from home.
Our language is made of those names,
We describe the worry and behaviour
As if the same name has erupted from a mountain.
I like only that talk that lifts one, that crept on my shoulder
From your mouth and uttered a mountain of anxiety.
I can not forget that even though I shrink from it,
And this is my worry of course, of hard belief.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Inside the Books
It has been written of books,
Inside them we singe our lips,
Innards are displayed before the lap,
Innocent layers must majestically and magnetically
Collect like soap and water in a sink.
We are washed of the history and innocence,
You are envy, pride and all;
What is more is that you laugh of the books and you gain
A living language to matter to the rest of society.
This is the commencement of faith in books,
And you shall notice noise and writing,
You have not got writing for yourself.
poem by Naveed Akram
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But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought.
quote by George Orwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And after I compose my programs, but it is very easy because I look to the music in a very natural way without fuss, and so I look always music, in my home, like books and books and books, choose books and you read the pages, so I do this with music, and I make programs.
quote by Victoria de los Angeles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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