Our stories are different; our pain is the same.
quote by Betty Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Stories
some stories
about ourselves
are also the stories of
themselves
and then we write
these stories and
pretend that these are
but some short stories
from our mind
now in different names
and places
we read them and then
we wish that some of
these short stories
are not true at all
sometimes for those
we want to be
we want to believe
them to be true
wishes and hopes and
regrets, what if? what if i
chose that rather than this?
we poets write about pain
and joys and we tell sometimes
that we only fake them
deep inside we are silent
we prefer just to be left alone
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stories
Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
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Stories
Every year has its own stories in this life,
Every month has its own stories in this life,
Every week has its own stories in this life,
Every day has its own stories in this life,
Every hour has its own stories in this life,
Every minute has its own stories in this life,
And like the muse of the mind as we grow up;
So, we are all with stories to tell in this world.
As white as snow,
As red as blood,
As balck as charcoal,
As green as the grass,
As blue as the sky;
But everybody has stories to tell in this world!
And like the muse o love in the land of beauty,
For each year has its own story.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Any Street In Any Town
Look down any street
in any town across the land
at the rows of houses there.
Then you begin to wonder
what memories each house shares.
Some of happiness
where dreams have come true.
Some are of sadness
where lives have been hurt by pain.
Some with tragic stories
they never want to share again.
Each house will have many stories
of the individuals whom lived there.
Each story will be different
from all the rest.
Each leave memories
in every room they slept.
Their stories are unending
as new families come along.
22 November 2007
poem by David Harris
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Looking At You I Shall Tell Some Stories
looking at you
i make stories about your face
lovely stories (though there were betrayals
of the skin, i decide not to include it there)
for a person like you shies away from pain
from that which burns
all these you try to evade and so you keep running away
from everything that signifies
heat and fire)
but so much so for that
my stories travel to your hands
(i have this theme about tenderness
caress, affection, love and love
and holding one on top of the other
fingers intertwining) i
do not want to stop in there
my stories shall travel to your feet
and i shall remember
(those stamping of the feet
on the ground
not the dance in bed
but the leaving of footsteps
the closing of the door
and the final sound of the
thuds)
the ending will be sad
there was someone who left without saying goodbye
while the other
was still in bed soundly sleeping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stories
when we were young stories were told
That I'd kiss you sweet like
People said there was a connection between us
Now that we're old stories are told
Of how I hold you tight
Whenever I see those people I tell them they were right
Stories will be told
From when our children are young
until they're old
About our endless love
We must have had a blessing from above
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Stories will be told until we're old
Stories will be told until the end of time
Until the sun won't rise
Oh
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories We Could Tell
By: john b. sebastian
1974
Talkin to myself again
Wonderin if this travellin is good
Is there somethin else a doin
Wed be doin if we could
Chorus:
But ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories we could tell
Stared at that guitar in that museum in tennessee
Nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
Scars upon the face told of all the times he fell
Singin all the stories he could tell
Chorus:
Ah, the stories he could tell
And Ill bet you it still rings like a bell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
And listen to the stories it could tell
So if youre on the road trackin down your every night
Playin for a livin beneath brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride the carousel
You do it for the stories you can tell
Ah, the stories we could tell
And if it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Just listen to the stories we could tell
Coda:
Yes, I wish that we could sit upon a bed in some motel
Listen to the stories it could tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most politicians - those people who live, eat and breathe politics - like to sit around and talk about politics and tell political war stories. Reagan didn't do that. His war stories were movie war stories and Hollywood war stories. He loved that.
quote by Lyn Nofziger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Well, religion has been passed down through the years by stories people tell around the campfire. Stories about God, stories about love. Stories about good spirits and evil spirits.
quote by Andrew Greeley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You see, I was told stories, we were all told stories as kids in Nigeria. We had to tell stories that would keep one another interested, and you weren't allowed to tell stories that everybody else knew. You had to dream up new ones.
3rd November
Of a very special injection into my body,
Of the ways of life to survive on this struggle!
For the pain is still in me.
Of a very special injection into my body,
Of the ways of life to survive this pain;
But i will be okay very soon my love.
In this life, the thing for you never lost;
But sometimes, they are really lost forever!
I am like Chief Dishon on this pain and,
3rd November will be remembered;
Because, every country is not easy to live in nowadays.
There are ups and downs and all sort of stories,
There are all types of struggles and pains too;
And where i do live now is full of stories as well.
You can be very rich anywhere on this earth,
For even the pooorest lands still do have rich people within;
And the 3rd of November will be remembered always.
Man has its own land of success but,
I hope that this injection will lead me to Mount Zion!
Oh Zion, come closer to me and lead me on;
For there are still stories all over this place of mine.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Stories About Home
I lived once in the North
And for a while, way in the South
I have some stories... that'll
Tear a man's heart out
These are the one's
I numbered ten... eleven...and twelve...
They moved so fast...
I ended living... in living Hell
But those that I numbered one thru nine...
They let the world see...why... my eyes..
My heart...
Will never again shine
I know It's hard sometimes to live
Where you can't see the sun...
Because of all that... endless rain...
I look to see.. how too... help others
Because I have lived...every kind of pain
So I write the stories...
Some are good
But often... some are very bad
They often leave hearts torn....
Spilling eyes... so sad...
And sometimes... I'll talk about the incredibly bad
But can you see the purpose...of writing
These stories... these poems...
Through the tears.... the weeping... and crying...
It's just my heart....
Trying to find a way...to move back home...
So to anyone whom read these stories. They're what I write.
They're the words of what I feel. They're the stories about wounds,
about that life, my family, about souls that never seem to heal.
They're the words of truth, they help with what I feel. For these stories
are the cause of tears...that just wont end...they're the stories that are
impossibe to bear.
They are the stoires of my family, abuse, of damage
and how love was not spared....
So many stories that'll never disappear
A soul covered with scars
Of sadness that fills a heart
That burns each time those hate words...
And abuse that breaks it apart
Clyde Grant Bryson
poem by Clyde Bryson
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Tree
Ancient tree
Aching twisted limbs, gnarled and torn,
Wind battered, weathering and worn.
What stories can it tell?
Through generations of sunshine,
Through decades of rain,
Storm battered, weathered by pain.
What stories can it tell?
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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Stories We Could Tell
Talkin to myself again
Wondering if this travelin is good
Is there something better wed be doing if we could
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
Remember that guitar in a museum in tennessee
And the nameplate on the glass brought back twenty melodies
And the scratches on the face
Told of all the times he fell
Singin every story he could tell
And oh the stories it could tell
And I bet you it still rings like a bell
And I wish we could sit back on the bed in some motel
And listen to the stories we could tell
So if youre on the road tracking down here every night
And youre singin for a livin neath the brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride this carousel
You did it for the stories you could tell
And oh the stories we could tell
And if this all blows up and goes to hell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
I can still see us sittin on the bed in some motel
Listenin to the stories we could tell
song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You can take any one of our stories that we use right now, put western clothes on us, stick us out in the west and they'll work just as well - any single one of them - because they're stories about people, they're stories about things.
quote by Majel Barrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We sat down and told stories that happened to us in our childhood, to our children. They were all basically based on the truth. These stories were funny and poignant to us. They just took off. These are all stories from my life.
quote by Howie Mandel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If We Smooth The Mountain
if we smooth the mountain what mountain can we climb?
if we erase the wisdom of the depths of the oceans
all the unknowns, what desert can we walk upon?
if we only want the easy way out, what brave stories can we tell to their children?
tell me why you avoid the pain
and i will tell you that this can never be done
we cause pain, we are the pain in the ass, how can we deny this essence?
let them those who claim that they are the analgesics, come and deny themselves.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stories
If you were alive today
what stories woud you tell me?
Stories of what it's like without me
or of what comes after this?
Or would you hold back
all those things
and play upon my heartstrings,
then give me one more kiss?
I've often wondered if there is
a memory lane for lovers
where thought and memory covers
all our times of bliss?
If you were alive today
those stories you would bring me
would thrill me and please me
Your stories I still miss.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Pain...What is it?
Pain...What is pain?
Pain...get wrapped in the head with a baseball bat,
That could be called pain.
Pain...get kicked in the gut by a cowboy boot,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...poke a needle in your eye,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...get your fingers caught in a motorcycle chain,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...jump in front of a train,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...lose control while flyin' a plane,
That might cause a little pain.
Pain...There ain't ever no gain in pain.
poem by Axe Timson
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Stories For Boys
Theres a place I go,
And it is far away.
Theres a tv show,
And I can grow.
Sometimes the hero takes me,
Sometimes I dont let go.
Theres a picture book
With more than moans and groans.
Theres a comic strip
That makes me laugh.
Sometimes I let it take me.
Sometimes I dont let go,
I wont let go.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys.
Theres a place I go,
And it is far away.
Theres a radio,
And I will crawl.
Sometimes the hero takes me.
Sometimes I dont let go.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys.
Stories for boys...
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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