I was not allowed to take notes but my friend and I memorised those two and a half pages. Most people talked to me because of the warning. They knew this book was not going to be the official line.
quote by Jung Chang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Its Money That Matters
Of all of the people that I used to know
Most never adjusted to the great big world
I see them lurking in book stores
Working for the public radio
Carrying their babies around in a sack on their back
Moving careful and slow
(chorus)
Its money that matters
Hear what I say
Its money that matters
In the usa
All of these people are much brighter than i
In any fair system they would flourish and thrive
But they barely survive
They eke out a living and they barely survive
When I was a young boy, maybe thirteen
I took a hard look around me and asked what does it mean?
So I talked to my father, and he didnt know
And I talked to my friend and he didnt know
And I talked to my brother and he didnt know
And I talked to everybody that I knew
(chorus)
Its money that matters
Now you know that its true
Its money that matters
Whatever you do
Then I talked to a man lived up on the county line
I was washing his car with a friend of mine
He was a little fat guy in a red jumpsuit
I said you look kind of funny
He said I know that I do
But I got a great big house on the hill here
And a great big blonde wife inside it
And a great big pool in my backyard and another great big pool
Beside it
Sonny its money that matters, hear what I say
Its money that matters in the usa
Its money that matters
Now you know that its true
Its money that matters whatever you do
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Dead Poet
I knew not if to laugh or weep;
They sat and talked of you--
"'Twas here he sat; 'twas this he said!
'Twas that he used to do.
"Here is the book wherein he read,
The room wherein he dwelt;
And he" (they said) "was such a man,
Such things he thought and felt."
I sat and sat, I did not stir;
They talked and talked away.
I was as mute as any stone,
I had no word to say.
They talked and talked; like to a stone
My heart grew in my breast--
I, who had never seen your face
Perhaps I knew you best.
In fact I have a full page warning, right in the front of the book, that no one under the age of eighteen should read this book and no one should even turn the pages if they are sexually conservative or erotically deprived.
The Last Page
I always dread the last page in a book,
especially when the book was good.
So I close it up and put it aside
but some of those pages you can't hide.
They've become a memory to keep.
So the book just goes to sleep
for a while.
And some time in the future out it comes
just like a trusty old friend.
I open it up and start it once again
reading it from beginning to the end.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Best Friend
Quiet down now, hush hush my friend.
Quiet down now, hush hush my friend.
When all the others left, when all the others left,
When all the others left, when all the others...
I knew youd stick around, come here now.
I knew youd stick around, come here now.
When all the others talked, when all the others talked,
When all the others talked, when all the others...
Youd always been my habit now.
Coloured bees, and stomach aches,
Your friends in need, and lovers quakes.
My best friend, my, my very best friend,
My best friend, my, she never left my side.
So come here now sit. quiet down. come here now sit.
So lie down now, quiet down friend
Quiet down now, quiet down friend...
When all the others left, when all the others left,
When all the others left, when all the others...
I knew youd stick around, come here now.
Come here now sit, so come here now.
When all the others talked, when all the others talked,
When all the others talked, when all the others...
Youd always been my habit now.
Coloured bees and stomach aches,
Yours friends in need, and lovers quakes.
My best firned, my, my very best firned,
My best firned, my, she never left my side.
So lie down now, quiet down friend
Lie down now, lie down now sit.
My side so lie down and fight to find
My side so lie down and fight for my,
(quiet down now, hush hush my friend)
My side to lie down be good for my,
(come here now, come here now sit)
My side to lie down be good for my,
Quiet down now, hush hush my friend.
Come here now, come here now sit.
When all the others left, I knew youd stick around.
When all the others talked, I knew youd stick around.
Lie down now, lie down my friend.
Lie down now, hush hush my friend.
My best friend, my, my very best friend.
My best friend, my, my very best friend.
song performed by by Candlebox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Memory Place
Shelves tower over me; crowed with bound pages
of events, people, places, ideas.
Of memories.
Of captured feelings pressed like flowers between the pages;
for people to be inspired by someone else's words.
My eyes caress the titles printed on bright spines
as I run my fingers across
what holds the memories together.
I pick up a book, turning yellowed pages,
the scent of gentle time traveling to my nose.
I close my eyes and smile:
it brings back memories of my own,
but these pages are not for me.
I put back the soft bundle of pages
and continued to search in the Memory Place
until I find my own belonging among the words.
poem by Zoe Guillory
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jonny
On the night of april the 14th
A little girl walked to new york, new york
Her best friend jonny said
Itd be impossible cause
Seattle is too far away from new york, new york
Seattle is too far away from new york, new york
She only talked to jonny
Talked to him that night
Only talked to jonny
Then she walked to new york
It happened eight years ago today
Im the little girl walked to new york, new york
My best friend jonny said
Itd be impossible cause
Seattle is too far away from new york, new york
Seattle is too far away from new york, new york
Chorus:
She only talked to jonny
Talked to him that night
Only talked to jonny
She only talked to jonny
Talked to him that night
Only talked to jonny
Then she walked to new york
It was hard for them that I was gone
Only jonny knew why I fled to new york
He was my best friend jonny yeah
I know I loved him cause
Seattle is too far from new york, new york
Seattle is too far from new york, new york
Chorus
Oh jonny...
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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July 15th,1991 Poem
Half gone;
half thru...
Half baked;
Simmer blue
Thumbing through
a book of
blank
pages
Feeling frustration
consternation
Beginnings end
the same,
As a numbness
Creeps into my brain
Buries the pain
and the past
but at what price,
all tomorrows due
Sort of barnacled upon
The high tide postmark of life
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you take a book of a thousand pages on the Second World War, in which 50 million people died, the concentration camps occupy two pages and the gas chambers ten or 15 lines, and that's what one calls a detail.
quote by Jean-Marie Le Pen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Remember Walter?
Walter, remember when the world was young
And all the girls knew walters name?
Walter, isnt it a shame the way our little world has changed?
Do you remember, walter, playing cricket in the thunder and the rain?
Do you remember, walter, smoking cigarettes behind your garden gate?
Yes, walter was my mate,
But walter, my old friend, where are you now?
Walters name.
Walter, isnt it a shame the way our little world has changed?
Do you remember, walter, how we said wed fight the world so wed be free.
Wed save up all our money and wed buy a boat and sail away to sea.
But it was not to be.
I knew you then but do I know you now?
Walter, you are just an echo of a world I knew so long ago
If you saw me now you wouldnt even know my name.
I bet youre fat and married and youre always home in bed by half-past eight.
And if I talked about the old times youd get bored and youll have nothing more to say.
Yes people often change, but memories of people can remain.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half The World Away
I would like to leave this city
This old town don't smell too pretty and
I can feel the warning signs running around my mind
And when I leave this island I'll book myself into a soul asylum
And I can feel the warning signs running around my mind
So here I go still scratching around the same old hole
My body feels young but my mind is very old
So what do you say?
You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway
You're half the world away
Half the world away
Half the world away
I've been lost I've been found but I don't feel down.
And when I leave this planet
song performed by by Oasis from The Masterplan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gossiper
(9/15/12)
She was well to do, and had more
Money than me and you.
She loved to gossip and put people down
it mattered not- who was around.
She talked about everyone that she knew
And wouldn't let you leave till she was through.
She talked about her neighbors and her friends
And put them down to the bitter end.
They said she was lonely and didn't have a life
But who in the world would make her " his wife"?
Now the years have taken its toll
And she's gotten very old.
But! There was someone " who had done just that"
And she became bitter and fat.
She had married at a very young age
To a man who was twice her age.
After a few years he passed away
And she became even more bitter and enraged.
That is when she started to talk
About all who was around
And enjoyed the fact of putting people down.
Soon no one came to visit any more
For she had closed all the doors
They had gotten tired of trying
To be her friend, when she talked
About them - to no end.
There was nothing that could stop
Her wagging tongue, even as she
Was in her dying bed.
She talked about the living and the dead.
When the time came and she was laid to rest.
They said there was two coffins laid in the ground.
One for her body and one for her tongue
So she could not talk to anyone.
(the comical moral of this story)
: Don't talk without knowing- cause
Your tongue don't know where it's going.
© L. RAMS
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is a difference between a book of two hundred pages from the very beginning, and a book of two hundred pages which is the result of an original eight hundred pages. The six hundred are there. Only you don't see them.
quote by Elie Wiesel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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What is the use of begetting?
If people knew my book
But not me as its author,
If people knew my song
But not me as its writer,
If people knew my shrine
But not me as its builder
And if they knew my prince
But not me as his father,
What’s the use of begetting them?
For my name I did all these things.
08.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spirit of Rumi - 67 - To Rumi
I’m not too proud to say
please write a new poem through me
and I promise not to claim that
I wrote it myself…
or if that’s too much to ask,
just a line somewhere, that I’ll watch
as it writes itself and know
that you, not I, write it
or if that’s too much to ask,
open an old book at
a page that smells just faintly
of attar of roses, and know that
Rumi read this page too
or sitting quietly waiting for a poem,
or after a poem, and there’ll be
a slight breeze for a moment
carrying the memory of a rose
from an old Persian species
mixed with the faintest scent of wild herbs
after desert rain
or if that’s too much to ask,
just the occasional memory
that you lived, and wrote,
and a poem comes to mind
as if you’re reading it first to a friend
and I’ll smile and look at
the rose in the blue and white vase over there,
neither of us caring about time
while your book lies open by the window,
the breeze turning the pages gently
as if it knew which poem to choose
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half A World Away
I would like to leave this city
This old town don't smell too pretty and
I can feel the warning signs running around my mind
And when I leave this island I'll book myself into a soul asylum
And I can feel the warning signs running around my mind
So here I go still scratching around the same old hole
My body feels young but my mind is very old
So what do you say?
You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway
You're half the world away
Half the world away
Half the world away
I've been lost I've been found but I don't feel down.
And when I leave this planet, y'know I'd stay but I just can't stand it
and I can feel the warning signs, running around my mind
And if I leave this spirit, find me a hole and I will fill it
and I can feel the warning signs, running around my mind
So here I go still scratching around in the same old hole
My body feels young but my mind if very old
So what do you say?
You can't give me the dreams that are mine anyway
You're half the world away
Half the world away
Half the world away
I've been lost I've been found but I don't feel down
No I don't feel down (x2)
I don't feel down (x4
song performed by by Oasis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between the pages
Between the pages
~
between the pages
we line ourselves in verse
where we play out a story
of our own making
the turns and twists
brought through words
etched upon the page
ink flows to its own beat
like a raging heart
pouring out before the eyes
a world becomes forgotten
lost in the celebration
between pages
each line shared
written
in its own breath
creation begins
time lapses
into our verse
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Study on the Desk
Desks of study are erected,
We turn over the pages,
Reading what the currency is,
Discussing the frequency of pain
And loving the light of the book.
Describe us when it stands,
The book stands when we understand
And these pages restrict our vision
When liking through the lenses
Of our glasses is also required.
We can distribute our wealth,
Bend the stupor in our glasses
When liquor has spoilt the taste,
But why do wealthy people
Find more wealth and more power?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Life Changes
I always thought life would be
just as I wanted it for me.
I just let it happen without a plan
and I would proceed as I began.
The unexpected changes came along,
unprepared for them like notes with no song.
The growth came slowly on every day
and routine tasks paved my way.
I stumbled more times than just a few.
But no one's pavement is a smooth walk through.
You carry the cross placed on your shouder.
You carry it begrudgingly until you're older.
Then age is upon you and I, for one
decided not to finish as I'd begun.
I started to plan and involve myself
like a mystery book that leaves the shelf.
The pages of my book are what I need
to turn and show me how to proceed.
How the book ends I do not know
but a good mystery book will never show
how the story ends. It surprises you.
That's how I'll be until I'm through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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