I love coloring books. I keep some by my bed.
quote by Karen Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gallant Trip To Nyc And D.c.
Flying into Washington D.C.
I caught a train then to NYC,
arriving in Penn Station about
a quarter to three,
I was tired and needed
to sleep.
Reminded me of
my runaway days
long ago,
with my friend Mary
from Mexico.
Now this trip was
special yes, indeed,
I gave out 500
Coloring Books with Poem
“Saving the Seas”
To Performince school
by Time Square,
Has this poem in it
and other coloring
books I did share.
Trip was a success,
I gave out the rest,
In D.C.
Then laminated
“Save the Seas”
Now poem is
laminated and on display,
in Martin Luther King Memorial
Library till this day.
Written by Christina Sunrise on March 30,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gods Coloring Book
Today as I was walking
In the fields just down the way
I sat down on a fallen log
To pass the time away
And as I looked around me
The more that I did look
The more I realize that I am viewing
Gods coloring book
I saw a golden ray of sunlight
A silver drop of dew
A soft, white floating cloud
Sailing cross the sky a blue
A yellow dandelion
Pretty evergreen
And some red and orange flowers
Growing wild along the stream
And the more I look around me
And the more that I do look
The more I realize that I am viewing
Gods coloring book
The greyness in an old mans hair
The pink in babys cheeks
The blackness in a stormy sky
The brown in fallen leaves
And the multicolored rainbow
Stretched out across the sky
And the purple haze at sunset
Just before the night
And the more I look around me
And the more that I do look
The more I realize that I am viewing
Gods coloring book
Then I turn my face toward the sky
And say a silent prayer
Though God doesnt speak to me
I see him everywhere
He is all around me
Hes everywhere I look
And each new day is but a new page
In gods coloring book
Tag:
Each new day is but a new page
In gods coloring book
Hmmmmmm
song performed by by Dolly Parton
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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In Them
Another promenade of a sorority,
Bringing out their show around their water fountains,
Preening and attempting their peonies—
They love their football teams—
Entire parking lots of them,
And there elbows bend away like the hemisphere—
Growing through the stained glass of the churches
Of their universities—
To end up as trophy wives—
Somehow there are too many of them to number,
And they sing together in the afternoon on
Weekends—
They know nothing of astronomy, yet they are up there—
Like vanishing pictures in the coloring books
Of girls who are too old now to find
Any understanding in them at all.
poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Toys In The Attic
So many years have passed me by
and so many toys in the attic lie.
Old rusty skates that used to glide,
I see them lyimg on their side.
A doll carriage, a wheel that's broken,
The doll that said 'Mama' now unspoken.
Coloring books all yellowed with age,
memories of 8 colors are on every page.
A kite assembled all by my dad,
the best kite a kid ever had.
A tricycle that mom and dad kept,
a remembered fall when I had wept.
Yo-yos and batty balls in a box,
and plenty of legos and wooden blocks.
So many toys from my childhood days
are in mama's attic that's like a maze.
They're everywhere I step, everywhere I look
but the best thing there is a pocketbook.
Mama filled it with pennies she saved for me
and they're better than all the toys I see.
See my books at stores.lulu.com/reizerj
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Artist Nancy Waller
I remember hearing a voice,
“go down this road”, was the first choice.
The road 42nd West, in south Minneapolis.
Great visual artist I would meet,
She drew endangered species detailed and neat.
Nancy Waller was her name,
She published booklets on endangered species
to help bring about awareness and change.
Melodie my doll, loved her most of all.
She went to her see her at the museum,
took photos with her that where very pleasing.
Melodie was happy for Nancy designed,
coloring books of Melodie just cute and fine.
Nancy got my books off to a great start,
she inspired me and has a pure heart.
Thank you Nancy for inspiration and passion too,
you’re a great artist, through and through.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Ballade Of The Bookworm
Far in the Past I peer, and see
A Child upon the Nursery floor,
A Child with books upon his knee,
Who asks, like Oliver, for more!
The number of his years is IV,
And yet in Letters hath he skill,
How deep he dives in Fairy-lore!
The Books I loved, I love them still!
One gift the Fairies gave me: (Three
They commonly bestowed of yore)
The Love of Books, the Golden Key
That opens the Enchanted Door;
Behind it BLUEBEARD lurks, and o'er
And o'er doth JACK his Giants kill,
And there is all ALADDIN'S store, -
The Books I loved, I love them still!
Take all, but leave my Books to me!
These heavy creels of old we bore
We fill not now, nor wander free,
Nor wear the heart that once we wore;
Not now each River seems to pour
His waters from the Muses' hill;
Though something's gone from stream and shore,
The Books I loved, I love them still!
ENVOY.
Fate, that art Queen by shore and sea,
We bow submissive to thy will,
Ah grant, by some benign decree,
The Books I loved--to love them still.
poem by Andrew Lang
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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Sorting Our Colors
REMEMBER..!
The day our crayons got
mixed up
we were coloring in our
books
two little girls
sorting through their
colors
red, blue, green, yellow.
Today..!
Once again I sit sorting
our colors
now I sit alone thinking
of you
red, blue, green, yellow
only our colors remain.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Artist Nancy Waller
I remember hearing a voice,
"go down this road", was the first choice.
The road 42nd West, in south Minneapolis.
Great visual artist I would meet,
She drew endangered species detailed and neat.
Nancy Waller was her name,
She published booklets on endangered species
to help bring about awareness and change.
Melodie my doll, loved her most of all.
She went to her see her at the museum,
took photos with her that where very pleasing.
Melodie was happy for Nancy designed,
coloring books of Melodie just cute and fine.
Nancy got my books off to a great start,
she inspired me and has a pure heart.
Thank you Nancy for inspiration and passion too,
you're a great artist, through and through
Written by Suzae Chevailer on September 9,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Drug Dealer & 2 Tikes
Going up my alley on my bike,
passing by a car with 2 little tikes.
Walking up to my metal gate,
Drugdealer does not hesitate.
For he is playing the part of a thug,
asking next if I want to buy some drugs.
Like oxycotten, percocet or crack,
I say “I’m clean and no thanks”
then I turn to him and I do ask,
“Hey, do you want to buy some coloring books? ”
He replies, “no” and I take one more look.
His ear is half cut off and it’s such a scary sight,
I say goodbye and I lock up my bike.
I bet a drug dealer has never been asked
that question before,
I realized I should of just gave them for free,
to the 2 tikes who need so much more.
Written by Christina Sunrise on Feb 10,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Sonnets : On Books
What wealth of knowledge, Books have stored for us?
What precious time, some writers sacrificed?
When libraries lend Books without much fuss,
‘Tis sad why readers don't get much enticed?
What use are Books when only kept in racks?
How sad to see them acquire cob-webs?
'Tis sad when Silver-fish consume Book-stacks;
And Knowledge too has its high tides and ebbs!
Books are companions to man's progress;
They serve to guide a man to live aright;
Books are like dolls children with love caress;
They help a man in darkness to see light!
Book-cost is nothing compared to value,
They are true friends of men; give respect due.
poem by John Celes
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I Know I Have A Copy Somewhere
Wherever you may choose to look
You're guaranteed to find a book.
Perhaps a murder mystery.
Anthologies of poetry
Reference books and picture books.
Books on witchcraft and black magic
Tomes on almost any topic.
Some by authors long since dead.
Books which try to look ahead.
Books of every shape and size.
As I have come to realise.
Enough to start a library
Though jumbled up haphazardly.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Hundred Books
A thousand books my library
Contains;
And all are primed, it seems to me
With brains.
Mine are so few I scratch in thought
My head;
For just a hundred of the lot
I've read.
A hundred books, but of the best,
I can
With wisdom savour and digest
And scan.
Yet when afar from kin and kith
In nooks
Of quietness I'm happy with
Sweet books.
So as nine hundred at me stare
In vain,
My lack I'm wistfully aware
Of brain;
Yet as my leave of living ends,
With looks
Of love I view a hundred friends,
My books.
poem by Robert William Service
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If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skulls, then why do we read it Good God, we also would be happy if we had no books and such books that make us happy we could, if need be, write ourselves. What we must have are those books that come on us like ill fortune, like the death of one we love better than ourselves, like suicide. A book must be an ice axe to break the sea frozen inside us.
quote by Franz Kafka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Second Hand Books
Books! Books! Books! There are so many different designs.
There are some which, by the author, are personally signed.
Some books have pages with gilt edges, which look all posh.
Some have nice pictures on their covers, which are embossed.
Some books have hard covers, while some have soft.
Some are all dusty, where they’ve been kept in the loft.
Some books have fancy covers; some just have plain.
Some have suffered mishaps, and are now all stained.
Some books are all dog-eared at the corners of their pages.
Some have gone yellow, where they’ve been around ages.
Inside some books, there can be seen a pencilled name;
Someone, who once, on this particular book, had a claim.
Some are obviously well read; their spines are all creased.
From out of a book, amazing adventures can be unleashed.
Some books have pages which are spoiled or a bit torn.
Some have covers which are grubby and look well worn.
Some just have text, while others also include illustrations.
Some are former prize winners; once the toast of the nation.
There are books by famous authors, as well as the lesser known.
Some are former library books which, to the public, were loaned.
There are romances, poetry, classics, sci-fi, humour, and histories;
Gardening, cookery, travel, thrillers, manga, and murder mysteries.
In wooden bookcases, the books are categorised, and are neatly lined.
In a second hand bookshop, you just never know what you may find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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I still love books. Nothing a computer can do can compare to a book. You can't really put a book on the Internet. Three companies have offered to put books by me on the Net, and I said, 'If you can make something that has a nice jacket, nice paper with that nice smell, then we'll talk.' All the computer can give you is a manuscript. People don't want to read manuscripts. They want to read books. Books smell good. They look good. You can press them to your bosom. You can carry them in your pocket.
quote by Ray Bradbury
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Children will not pretend to be enjoying books, and they will not read books because they have been told that these books are good. They are looking for delight.
quote by Helen Dunmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My mother used to take my brother and me to get any books we wanted, but they were second hand books published in the '30s and '40s. I liked scary books.
quote by Alejandro Amenabar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never lend books, for no one ever returns them; the only books I have in my library are books that other folks have left me.
quote by Anatole France
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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