We can't compare stories. We can only know in our hearts that we are the same. That may be the best we can do.
quote by Betty Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wouldn't compare myself to any past Idol contestant, because I don't feel like I am like any of them. Maybe stories are cool but my story is different from most people's story. I don't like to compare myself to other people, I like to just be me.
quote by Naima Adedapo
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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Remaining Happy
No stories left,
Do I have an urgency...
To compare in the telling told.
About confronting and defeating,
Those impossible obstacles.
No stories left,
Do I have a need or wish to recall.
To relive to captivate,
With a leaving of others enthralled.
Or with shivers to deliver.
Whether or not others make claims I exaggerate.
I am more experienced today with a faith I did not fake.
And a taking for granted each step I make.
Is not a welcoming activity,
I greet with an anticipating to partake.
I felt a cold brick wall up against my back.
Frightening enough,
I could no longer fantasize a trapping done like that.
Especially with exits closed.
To rely only on my faith to provide an escape.
Now with remaining happy and sustaining that on my mind,
No stories left...
Do I have an urgency to compare in the telling told.
About confronting and defeating those impossible obstacles.
Nor do I have a need to be teased to emotionally relive them.
I've unloaded and left behind,
Those winding roads I never chose to twist my mind.
Remaining happy and sustaining that,
Has come to please my every need.
No matter if that's judge as a selfish act...so be it judged!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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
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I let my game do the talking. I've had incidents like that but when I compare my own story to the stories that have happened forty or fifty years ago particularly to Jackie Robinson for example.
quote by Maurice Ashley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had developed this habit of writing scenarios as a hobby. I would find out which stories had been sold to be made into films and I would write my own treatment and then compare it.
quote by Satyajit Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writting From The Heart
Writing from the heart
It is all have ever known
For when you're cold and alone
Who do you really got?
But of course yourself
Full of thoughts.
If you were even given a chance
What would you do?
Well I choose to write from the heart
Tell you of stories not of fantasy but of today
But a reality in horrid way
It is to celebrate
Who I am
Where I came from
An explain stories untold
that will never otherwise unfold.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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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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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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Sister, Do I Dare Compre Your Love
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the lighthouse engulfed in fog
Shining it’s beacon of light
That guides through stormy seas
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the soft whispers carried on a breeze
As it rustles through copper colored leaves
Words of encouragement
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the snow capped mountains
Majestic peaks against a soft hue of blue
The epitome of strength
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the vast meadows of wildflowers
A motley of colors put on display
Simplifying beauty
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the endless skies overhead
And it’s never-ending exhibit of light and dark
Infinite
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
poem by Lana Hensley
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For my beloved sister
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the lighthouse engulfed in fog
Shining it’s beacon of light
That guides through stormy seas
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the soft whispers carried on a breeze
As it rustles through copper colored leaves
Words of encouragement
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the snow capped mountains
Majestic peaks against a soft hue of blue
The epitome of strength
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the vast meadows of wildflowers
A motley of colors put on display
Simplifying beauty
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the endless skies overhead
And it’s never-ending exhibit of light and dark
Infinite
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
poem by Shaan Sidhu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For my beloved sister II...
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the lighthouse engulfed in fog
Shining it’s beacon of light
That guides through stormy seas Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the soft whispers carried on a breeze
As it rustles through copper colored leaves
Words of encouragement
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the snow capped mountains
Majestic peaks against a soft hue of blue
The epitome of strength
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the vast meadows of wildflowers
A motley of colors put on display
Simplifying beauty
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
To the endless skies overhead
And it’s never-ending exhibit of light and dark
Infinite
Sister
Do I dare to compare your love
poem by Shashidhar Kumar
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Stories About Home
I lived once in the North
And for a while, way in the South
I have some stories... that'll
Tear a man's heart out
These are the one's
I numbered ten... eleven...and twelve...
They moved so fast...
I ended living... in living Hell
But those that I numbered one thru nine...
They let the world see...why... my eyes..
My heart...
Will never again shine
I know It's hard sometimes to live
Where you can't see the sun...
Because of all that... endless rain...
I look to see.. how too... help others
Because I have lived...every kind of pain
So I write the stories...
Some are good
But often... some are very bad
They often leave hearts torn....
Spilling eyes... so sad...
And sometimes... I'll talk about the incredibly bad
But can you see the purpose...of writing
These stories... these poems...
Through the tears.... the weeping... and crying...
It's just my heart....
Trying to find a way...to move back home...
So to anyone whom read these stories. They're what I write.
They're the words of what I feel. They're the stories about wounds,
about that life, my family, about souls that never seem to heal.
They're the words of truth, they help with what I feel. For these stories
are the cause of tears...that just wont end...they're the stories that are
impossibe to bear.
They are the stoires of my family, abuse, of damage
and how love was not spared....
So many stories that'll never disappear
A soul covered with scars
Of sadness that fills a heart
That burns each time those hate words...
And abuse that breaks it apart
Clyde Grant Bryson
poem by Clyde Bryson
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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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Online, you have things like Slate Magazine, which has a lot of commentary and analysis of stories, so it gives you a fuller picture. I would compare that to a news magazine or the New Republic.
quote by Tabitha Soren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet For The Lord Night and Day
I'm a poet for the Lord
Who created all I love.
A blind man riding a fast horse
Fulfilled by my Father above.
God has blessed me 480 times
With stories I could never compose on my own.
Love, war, faith and the answers of life
Are the seeds of His poems I've sown.
I'm the most over blessed man I've met
I should have been dead a thousand times.
But God sees to it I stay alive
To disciple His goodness to hearts and minds.
Some get up and preach a good sermon
Others stand up and sing a divine song.
I step forth with heart and soul
And deliver God's words of right and wrong.
NIGHT AND DAY
Give thanks to Jesus every night and day
He has allowed you to succeed, love and serve.
Share with others your blessings and joys
Of the delights of life you may not deserve.
God loves anyone who yearns to become better
And prays to Him to alter and conform.
We make our mistakes and learn from our heartbreaks
As by pain and sorrow we transform.
All the heroes of God's Bible just like us
Had to learn their lessons the hard way.
We still study their stories and compare their outcomes
Every time we read His Word and pray.
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.
The Man, The Demon
I tell you this man spits out so many ideas in a day
How is it even possible
Their is just no way
Maybe not a man
A demon of sorts
With talents as every resort
Lighting coming out of his finger tips
He hiccups and there's another
Not all as brilliant
Not all as defiant
Each their own unique characteristics
He builds stories upon stories with nothing other then a fountain pen
He is the best writer I have ever known
With proper etiquette that defies all sense of being
With his words he has shown
As I just a simple man continue seeing
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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