Authors want their names down in history; I want to keep the smoke coming out of the chimney.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Smoke
smoke from the chimney
rises to the sky
and then gone
like us, did you not notice?
we are from here
this heart and then in pain
we rise up
we mix in space
there, do you see still us?
i do not see me anymore
i am fog dissolving in the morning
i am mist dissipating on glass
i am smoke
rising to the sky from the chimney
and then gone....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In the history of literature there are many great enduring works which were not published in the lifetimes of the authors. If the authors had not achieved self-affirmation while writing, how could they have continued to write?
quote by Gao Xingjian
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When The Smoke Comes Out
when the smoke comes out
they are there to say that there is fire
on the chimney
when the smoke is black
they all say i have decided
when the smoke is white
they keep on praying since
no one is chosen
to lead the lost flock
without their grazing ground
during winter time
what if the smoke comes out
from my eyes and the smoke is black
and there is no fire in my heart?
what if i am lost? shall you care?
please don't. I must tell you i am happier
when left alone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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On Some Memories
i summon memories
of my youth
i call them by their names
one by one
sweet names
and places
i want them back again
like the way
they once tasted
to my tongues
they are not coming
i call them again
their sweet names
one by one
they are not coming
even if i
tell them
even if just in a dream in sleep in small moments
they are not comings still
definitely, they are not coming back
because i have been so cruel
poem by Antonio Liao
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Heaving The Heavier Sighs
you know how heavy are the sighs
you lift it like a weight
from your stomach
to your throat and finally
to your mouth
you let it escape
and then you are relieved
just like smoke
coming from a chimney
of a house covered
with snow
you know how is it to carry
something that you do not really like to keep
you let it go with a sigh
and then you are back
feeling high
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The idea of copyright did not exist in ancient times, when authors frequently copied other authors at length in works of non-fiction. This practice was useful, and is the only way many authors' works have survived even in part.
quote by Richard Stallman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epithalamium
A bee in the field. The house on the mountain
reveals itself to have been there through summer.
It's not a bee but a horse eating frosted grass
in the yawn light. Secrets, the anguish of smoke
above the chimney as it shreds what it's learned
of fire. The horse has moved, it's not a horse
but a woman doing the stations of the cross
with a dead baby in her arms. The anguish of the house
as it reveals smoke to the mountain. A woman
eating cold grass in Your name, shredding herself
like fire. The woman has stopped, it's not a woman
but smoke on its knees keeping secrets in what it reveals.
The everything has moved, it's not everything
but a shredding of the anguish of names. The marriage
of light: particle to wave. Do you take? I do.
What The Chimney Sang
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Woman stopped, as her babe she tossed,
And thought of the one she had long since lost,
And said, as her teardrops back she forced,
'I hate the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Children said, as they closer drew,
'`Tis some witch that is cleaving the black night through,
`Tis a fairy trumpet that just then blew,
And we fear the wind in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
And the Man, as he sat on his hearth below,
Said to himself, 'It will surely snow,
And fuel is dear and wages low,
And I`ll stop the leak in the chimney.'
Over the chimney the night-wind sang
And chanted a melody no one knew;
But the Poet listened and smiled, for he
Was Man and Woman and Child, all three,
And said, 'It is God`s own harmony,
This wind we hear in the chimney.'
poem by Francis Bret Harte
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Hidden smoke is a friend indeed
'If they pick I have some words for a country sad song.
Yes, If they sing I hear quietly.'
A rising smoke from a cottage chimney whispers to the barren sky.
'They burn the happiness and it turns into smoke.
Where do I go nobody knows?
But don't be frightened
I never pollute the sky and I promise you to bring rain for your crops to smile
And feed you in a severe drought.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Gravity And Desire
frozen...
the trees, grasses partly covered,
the smoke from the chimney,
the light in the window.
the streets with silence,
even the darkness suspended.
conversation, a stray cat,
the cup cracked in the sink.
the pouring, and the fire,
shadow held by shadow.
the heart buried in dawn,
the dawn held by the dark!
ghosts?
or just snowflakes,
no one names or remembers,
falling and gravity, gravity and desire...
frozen...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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I would rather see smoke from my own chimney than the fire on another's hearth.
Leaving Impressions
Proverbs are quotes
Whose authors went to oblivion.
Most monuments
Bear names that have gone irrelevant.
Must you do something
To stay back and tell your name since then?
(28.01.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Smoke, Mist and Nebulous Things
Tell me then your perceptions of the past
Tell me why hard facts are hard today
Facts tomorrow, then gone away
Do facts, then, rarely last?
Watching the march of time, the artefacts
The ruins they continue to dig up day by day
What remains of those wonderful beings
Who peopled our fables and myths
Smoke, mist and other nebulous things
Spirited them away
Tiptoe in history’s corridors
Crowns, coins and chariots
People, peasants, and simple folk
Just spirited clean away
Where do they lie now?
Unknowns jostling in history’s corridors.
Queens, courtesans, mothers of kings
Toys and things, necklaces and dreams
Smoke, mist and other nebulous things
Spirited them away
Tiptoe in history’s corridors
The modified history of the world
Domination, nomination, abomination
Smoke and mist and nebulous things
Have spirited everyone away.
poem by Rani Turton
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Santa Claus
Santa Claus
Santa Claus
Up and down the chimney
Santa Claus is coming
Its the time of the year
Oh! Yes, Santa Claus is near
Lots of presents and toys
For my good girls and boys
Santa Claus
Santa Claus
Up and down the reindeers
Santa Claus is flying
Get out your Christmas tree
His presents are for free
Made by his elves
working hard in the northpole
Make sure your Xmas stockings
do not have any holes
Santa Claus
Santa Claus
Up and down the chimney
Santa Claus is coming
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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November still day
Peaceful chimney smoke shimmer
Fox spoors on new snow
haiku by Oskar Hansen
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Let great authors have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which is, further and further to discover truth.
quote by Francis Bacon
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Recovery Disc
i know what you are up to.
i know that you do not forget pain and i know that that pain is still there and no matter how you hide it
it comes like smoke from an old
dirty chimney
and at winter time it shows all the black soot
the gray smoke from the house
to the sky
i know that when you invite me you do not really mean to please me.
you just want to show the changes in the house
the rearrangement of the furniture
it no longer the rose in the vase but
a carnation
that you say is loved by another
but not you
i know what you are up to but i have already prepared myself for that
in my heart i must tell you
pain has no bed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever come to sit by it. Passersby see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on the way.
quote by Vincent Van Gogh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul and yet no one ever came to sit by it. Passers-by see only a wisp of smoke from the chimney and continue on their way.
quote by Vincent Van Gogh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The promises of love and the smoke of a chimney, washed by water and blown away by the wind.