When there are two conflicting versions of a story, the wise course is to believe the one in which people appear at their worst.
quote by H. Allen Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Story
I had a rough start.
I had another chance.
Thanks for giving me a chance.
I know It is my last chance.
Every story have a happy ending.
I wish someone would say me good morning.
Story have long versions.
Life have short
poem by Yash Pradhan
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The Worst And The Best
in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Every story has two sides and every song has twelve versions.
Anytime you have a difficult encounter with your child, there is a good chance that at least one of these factors is bringing out the worst in him or her: transitions, time pressure, competition for your attention, conflicting objectives.
quote by Cathy Rindner Tempelsman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Of Gold
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
In a world where darkness comes up with the sunrise.
We have all made a compromise to survive.
Living a lie, with a single tear dropp in our eyes.
It turns in to many.
A plenty.
Where we have surrendered up our greatest beliefs.
A sacrifice of the soul.
We are all losing control.
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
I never thought anybody could bring me back from the edge.
My spirit is going to soar.
I'm looking for the double edge sword.
Expecting to die by it with a roar.
I thought I would have angered the beast who dwells in the fires.
But he never appears.
Instead suddenly all I see is good tidings.
It is the horse I want to be riding.
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
Who are you?
Why are you helping me?
Where does all this love towards fellow man come from?
I'm a friend.
I do this because I can.
It's not easy to understand, when they are no demands.
An angel has whispered upon my ear again.
Speaking of the knight in white armour.
Saying when he comes.
All pure souls will be undone, released and gone.
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
When it is a heart of gold.
In this story happiness unfolds.
A gift has been given.
The wise man says just take it.
Just take it.
Don't ask why.
For it could go back up to the sky.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Worst Comes to Worst
(Babu mixing)
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst...come.....to worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst come...to...worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
(Evidence talking)
Yeah
It's goin down y'all
That's Babu
Yo
song performed by by Dilated Peoples from Expansion Team
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enduring M's.
Mosquitoes have endured long
Biting people
The same old story of
Insects causing plasmodium
Marriage has endured long
Bonding people
The same old story of
Interested adults wed
Money has endured long
Buying people
The same old story of
Inflated goods sold
Misery has endured long
Bullying people
The same old story of
Injured hearts bled
Motherhood has endured long
Bearing people
The same old story of
Incarcerated fetuses freed.
poem by Samuel Nze
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Conflicting Influence
Conflicting influence
Hearing silence my old man does when he slowly dance around
the kitchen floor thinking he’s alone. When I sit still I can hear
silence too. Noises and voices Louis Armstrong’s trumpet and
the drumbeat of distant wars. Some of them fought and some
waiting to be fought. And I hear the righteous defending a war
where millions will die and our way of life will forever be scared
by shame. People have lost their voice, because it drowned in
the cacophony of conflicting messages that seep into our mind
day and night. Overload, fuse gone, apathy. And my old man will
never hear the good silence again.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Original - Time, My Worst Enemy
Time, My Worst Enemy
Keeping me away from you
Time, My Worst Enemy
Moving slowly when we’re apart
Time, My Worst Enemy
Fleeting when you are near
Time, My Worst Enemy
Battling with it daily
Time, My Worst Enemy
Stealing moments from the clock
Time, My Worst Enemy
Until you are in my arms again
Time, My Worst Enemy
Rapidly chasing us down
Time, My Worst Enemy
He will not take you this time
Time, My Worst Enemy
You are in my arms to stay
Time, My Worst Enemy
Has Lost!
The People's World
people are good;
people are bad;
people are happy;
people are sad;
people are near;
people are far;
people are true;
people are blue;
people are white;
people are right;
people are silent;
people are violent;
people can throw;
people can grow;
people can share;
people can care;
people can unite;
people can divide;
people can fool;
people can rule;
people can trust;
people are worst;
don't think i became mad.... what ever i wrote is very common things known about people but what i want to show is that i cannot describe everything about the people as it is impossible in the same way it is impossible to understand and make every person happy around us that's it.got it!
poem by Fahmina Arjumand Misha
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My Story Of Love And Heartbreak (The Paramirror)
I'll tell you a story about a man,
A man whose life is not so grand.
A story about love and heartbreaks too,
Heartbreaks too painful, sad and blue.
And blue are the days that will be the worst,
The worst of all time, feelings cursed.
The days will drag on, drained of my glory,
My glory dies in the story.
The story will start out with love of course,
Of course it's happy, no remorse.
Start out with my heart flying high and free,
And free is my soul...love, the key.
The key which will let all of my guards down,
Guards down...ready for what's around.
Will let the pain in when ready to strike,
To strike at me when it feels like.
Feels like the love is draining from my heart,
My heart was filled til she departs.
Love is gone and I feel all of the ache,
The ache of love and then heartbreak.
poem by Adam McKim
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Ibrahim's tale
Ibrahim
Ibrahim was a shoemaker
in that Persian land afar
where wisest men practice crafts
in side-alleys without name
and teach with stories
One day, Ibrahim was overcome
by happiness beyond all belief
while the sun moved from there to here
He told his friend, who said
you look the same to me
He went to the doctor who said
we’d better keep an eye on that,
it might need an X-ray
He went to the priest who said
the Devil has cunning ways
to tempt with gifts
He went to the politician who said
it’s just a way to avoid
your social responsibility
He went to the psychiatrist who said
such delusions are uncommon but
not unknown come back next week
Ibrahim walked home
through the market and stallholders smiled
even though he bought nothing
a stray dog followed him home
his wife said you’re late for dinner
how lucky you are to have me for a wife
his children said
didn’t you bring anything home for us?
But here the story of Ibrahim
splits into many versions;
so you who know that bliss
which overcame our Ibrahim
must complete it for yourselves
to tell to your chlldren and
your children’s children
so that wise men smile, and angels laugh,
and poets pause, and storytellers
nod to themselves, while
they shape and tack their shoes, that
a storyteller carries on wise shoulders
a responsibility to human beings
greater than any king..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Where Is She?
Where is she, I wondered, when she wasn't there.
If she's not here she could be anywhere. She could be
anywhere and not alone.
I began to imagine the worst. At every imagining
I thought I had imagined the worst, then I imagined
something even worse. It got to the point where my
imaginings no longer included her. I realized that the
worst did not encompass her. As my imaginings continued,
as worst superseded worst, making the preceding worst
only worse, I began to forget her. As worst got worse,
I forgot her more. Things were getting pretty bad, and
I had almost forgotten her completely, when she
reappeared.
poem by Peter Cherches
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The most and the worst
Man wants money most
And uses it worst.
He wants time most
And spends it worst.
He wants things most
And waste them worst.
He wants women most
And miss them worst.
31.12.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Two Versions Of Me
Ten mountains stand tall
Nine seasons since fall
Eight eons of sand
Seven oceans began
Now there is none
No more light from the sun
Now waters run free
No more fish in the sea
One more name on the slate
One less minute to wait
Too busy to see two versions of me
One more bottle is dry
One less reason to try
Six feet underneath
Five fingers don't reach
Four seconds it seems for all of our dreams
Three oceans away
Two children at play
Too busy to see two versions of me.
[Thanks to [email protected] for these lyrics]
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washington and Lincoln
Come, happy people! Oh come let us tell
The story of Washinton and Lincoln!
History's pages can never excel
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Down through the ages an anthem shall go,
Bearing the honors we gladly bestow--
Till every nation and language shall know
The story of Washington and Lincoln:
Who gave us independence,
On our continent and sea
Who saved the glorious Union!
And set a people free!
This is the story--
Oh happy are we--
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Parents to children shall tell with delight,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Free born and freed men together recite
The story of Washinton and Lincoln.
Earth's weary bond men shall listen with cheer--
Tyrants shall tremble, and traitors shall fear--
When, in it's fullness of glory, they hear
The story of Washington and Lincoln:
Though on the war cloud recorded with steel,
The story of Washington and Lincoln;
Peace only Peace, can completely reveal
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
Thanks to the Lord for the days we behold!
Thanks for the unsullied flag we unfold!
Thanks to us, and in our time, was told
The story of Washington and Lincoln.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Running Around Loose
People who have spent,
Years of their time...
Trying to convince some who do listen,
There has been others who have treated them...
With offending indifference.
And have done this to them,
For no apparent reason...
As their telling of this story begins.
Upon hearing this,
One should take two steps backward right away.
But these sympathy soliciting conversations,
Can be difficult to detect...
When a professional is in action.
They know just what to say.
These same people...
Seem to have no excuses to make,
Or alibis to offer...
When they are caught in the midst,
Of trying to sell new versions of their lies...
To anyone who had missed the originals.
But had forgotten who they were told to...
With a re-telling to include omitted names,
And what they did that was found to be horrific.
People who have spent,
Years of their time...
Trying to convince some who do listen,
There has been those who have treated them...
With offending indifference.
And have done this to them,
For no apparent reason...
Can be directly associated with,
Why there are so many mentally sick folks...
Running around loose yet appearing totally sane.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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