That is a good book which is opened with expectation, and closed with delight and profit.
quote by Amos Bronson Alcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
That is a good book which is opened with expectation and closed with profit.
Amos Bronson Alcott in Table Talk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Closed Book
A book unopened
leaves words to die.
A book unopened
leaves words to lie
in perpetuity,
never alive, never free
to deliver its thoughts
for any to see.
Who was the writer?
What did he pen?
The absence of readers
are lost and then
the book lies quietly
on a shelf
and maybe all by itself it knows.
It will never be opened.
It will always be closed,
just like some people
who won't open up
and speak their words to you.
Their life is something
you'll never know,
something you won't view.
For they are a closed book too.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mice versus rats
I'm not for spending money or traveling abroad, but when I opened
the drawer, at the bottom of my desk, it was full of tiny mice, nesting
on my check- book, since I hadn't opened for years; they had eaten
my passport too, and a couple of poems I thought were too racy to be
published.22 mice smaller than a baby's thumb confused in the glare
of light the creatures thought my fingers were other mice when I tried
to retrieve my check book- and out of date my passport.
Closed the drawer to the mice's delight, thought it had been a deviation,
got hold of a tin bucket opened the drawer again and put them all in there,
yes, even the babies- there are times in life when one can show no mercy-
my intention was to drown them, but could not, their struggle to climb up
the bucket must be honored. At night I let them free on the sandy lane.
When I opened the drawer next day a big rat sat there, bit my finger it had
stolen my credit card…. Now, how do you explain that to a bank manager?
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A glimpse
a glimpse
the half opened door
some would say
a half closed door
it all depends on the
state of mind you are in
well half closed for pessismist
and half opened for optimist
half opened or half closed door
so long as it is open
and not close
a good exercise for the mind
of a story teller, novelist, a film maker
a glimpse at the half closed door
the mind is thrown open
like the kick you would give
a half opened door
so that you and pet cat could
glide through easily
the stories that start coming out
from a glimpse at the half opened door
agatha's murdered corpse lying behind
a stalker, a ghost in the corridor of the mind
from the glimpse of the half closed door
a million possibilities, ideas pouring forth
half closed door, half opened door
whichever way you may say
it is an opened door
a million stories, ideas, possibilities
knock at the door of my mind
a glimpse of the half closed, half opened door
my half closed half opened eyes
open themselves to my ever curious mind
boundless as the universe
inspired by
A Glimpse
A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room, around the stove,
late of a winter night-And I unremark'd seated in a corner;
Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand;
A long while, amid the noises of coming and going-of drinking and
oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little,
perhaps not a word.
Walt Whitman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Reading A Book
Yesterday
a book
so tightly
closed.
Everythig
so vague
a secret.
Today
somehow
the book
magically
opened.
There
befo re
my eyes
appeared
a clear
script.
The
writing
so
liquid.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No Difference
i stared out the window
at the bare frozen limbs
of my favorite old tree...
i closed my eyes...
saw leaves bud forth
and turn green...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i stared at the young girl
reading at a corner table
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old grandmother
washing dishes with her grandbabies
playing in the floor at her feet...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw the young man
carrying his son on his shoulders
i closed my eyes...
and saw an old man standing
by his son's casket
draped by a flag...
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw an old man
standing on the corner begging
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy
playing ball in the street
laughing and dodging cars
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a crack head shivering
by an electric heater in a bare apartment
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young a/g student
helping some kid with his math
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a desperate girl
walking the streets
looking for a john
i closed my eyes...
and saw a young girl's room
stuffed animals on the bed
pictures of her and her daddy on the wall
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i saw a young man
wild-eyed with fear
in a prison cell
i closed my eyes...
i saw a young boy gone hunting
with his grandpa on thanksgiving morn
with his dog by his side
i opened my eyes...
knowing there was no difference.
i pulled back the veil of time...
knowing, there is no difference!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The satisfaction defined
Over expectation-
Under expectation-
Exact expectation-
Satisfaction equals
Reality minus expectation.
09.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Control Freak
Her father was a control freak.
He had to know what she was
reading and seeing and hearing
and whom she was meeting and
hey he said who was that kid I saw
you talking to outside school today?
Archie she said he's just a friend who
likes the bands I like oh so he says
her father said you know what he's
really after? I'll tell you shall I? she
hated it when he went on like that.
Hated his presumption of knowing
what other's thought or what their
deep desires were. He wants to get
inside your panties that's what he's
after her father said and she blushed
and said no he's not he's not that kind
of boy oh what you telling me the kid's
batting for his own team? Huh? Huh?
And some other time as she was reading
a Dostoevsky book he said who's he?
some Russian writer? You read the enemy?
What's a matter with good old American
writers? Not good enough? She closed
the book and put it away in her schoolbag
and took out a battered copy of Naked Lunch
by William Burroughs and started to read.
That's better a good old American writer
her father said and smiled and sat back in
his chair by the fire not knowing the book
opened out a different world for her and
a whole new other kind of deeper desire.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home Coming
Leaving in the dark
In an accidental day
From the dawn
To the following day
Celebrated winter wedding
Putting on by
Official white dress of
Soft cozy woolen snow
Enjoyed the day having
Made a velvet carpet with fallen snow
Closed windows opened
Opened windows closed
To see the snow bride
Of celebration had
Melting the joy in the eve
Saying good bye
Left winter bride
Returned home
To live with a long time
Fresh and beauty of own
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
No... I Can Not Believe It
You've got my nose opened wide.
Wider than the sea,
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
You've got my nose opened wide.
So wide people see.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
Wherever I go...
I know that this shows.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I know it is exposed,
That you opened my nose!
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I walk on tip-toes,
With my eyes half closed.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
I walk on tip-toes,
With an opened nose.
And...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
And with my eyes closed too?
No...
I can not believe I let you do this to me.
No...
I can not believe it that you did this to me.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sleep Teases A Man
Markov took off his boots and, with a deep breath, lay down on the divan.
He felt sleepy but, as soon as he closed his eyes, the desire for sleep immediately passed. Markov opened his eyes and stretched out his hand for a book. But sleep again came over him and, not even reaching the book, Markov lay down and once more closed his eyes. But, the moment his eyes closed, sleepiness left him again and his consciousness became so clear that Markov could solve in his head algebraical problems involving equations with two unknown quantities.
Markov was tormented for quite some time, not knowing what to do: should he sleep or should he liven himself up? Finally, exhausted and thoroughly sick of himself and his room, Markov put on his coat and hat, took his walking cane and went out on to the street. The fresh breeze calmed Makarov down, he became rather more at one with himself and felt like going back home to his room.
Upon going into his room, he experienced an agreeable bodily fatigue and felt like sleeping. But, as soon as he lay down on the divan and closed his eyes, his sleepiness instantly evaporated.
In a fury, Markov jumped up from his divan and, hatless and coatless, raced off in the direction of Tavrichesky Park.
poem by Daniil Ivanovich Kharms
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Didn't Choose the Book
I came to see you better
in those final days because
you are my mother and
it's hard to get that in
perspective because
it's just a little bit too big
although we try
every chance we get
to tell mom
hey Mom, you're the greatest
love you Mom
my mom is my best friend
and mom's rule
But mom in the final days
although we didn't really know
that you would slip away from us
quite so suddenly
that one Sunday morning
it was afternoon when I got the call
my sister saying that you
just didn't wake up in the morning
and so we closed a chapter
on life and opened another
which we have yet to write
but mine will be filled with you
still because I remember
walking with you one arm
on yours just for love
and just to steady you. You
walked stiffly from the hip surgery
and you just get a little smaller
as real old age comes on
but just the physical part
Though you could say
everything starts to go
that's not really true
because Mom, you know
because you know
that love never forgets
I’ll never forget but I mean
you you never forgot love
although eventually you couldn't
remember much
well you would remember
stuff, but it got busted up
disjointed but Mom, it's cool
We we didn't choose the book
did we? No, we we didn't choose
the book, we just scribble
some little things into it
Notes: I write a lot, so often times I get something like this, which isn't very good. And yet it's like a photograph of me, so it has some value, at least to me. Also it is a stepping-stone perhaps in between good poems, and I would not have reached my next 'good' poem unless I had written this one.
poem by Tom Courtney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I was aware that there is an expectation that writers inevitably falter at this stage, that they fail to live up to the promise of their first successful book, that the next book never pleases the way the prior one did. It simply increased my sense of being challenged.
quote by David Guterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The only other thing which I think is important is: Don't write a book or start a book with the expectation of communicating a message in a very important way.
quote by Norton Juster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I must swindle.
Hospitals are run for a profit.
Colleges are run for a profit.
Temples are run for a profit.
I must swindle to pay them.
11.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A closed mind is like a closed book; just a block of wood
A closed mind is like a closed book; just a block of wood.
A closed mind is like a closed book just a block of wood.
Life
Eyes closed light blocked
Heart closed love blocked
Both opened life enthralled
poem by Somanathan Iyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Delight
Anytime that you fall asleep
I'm wide awake
Anytime that you leave your house
I'm waiting at the gate
I'm not angry anymore
Come on and show your soul
I'd love to hang it on the wall
Framed for me
Anytime that you smile
I know that's really you
Anytime that you laugh you know that
I'll be laughing too
But it's not funny anymore
Come on now where's your soul
Is that it crumpled on the floor
Is this blame on me
Delight Delight Delight Delight
Delight at least we know its name
Delight Delight Delight
Wouldn't it be nice to feel again
Delight Delight Delight
It's locked outside it won't be coming in
Anytime now you'll talk at least I hope you will
Anytime now you'll speak and you know
I'll be listening still
But we don't say much anymore
Come on tell it from your soul
Delight Delight Delight Delight
Delight at least we know its name
Delight Delight Delight
Wouldn't it be nice to feel again
Delight Delight Delight
It's locked outside it won't be coming in
Won't be coming in
Delight Delight
song performed by by Bic Runga from Drive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!