I read while the kids play. I can see them from the kitchen window. And I'm a fast reader.
quote by Reese Witherspoon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet And The Reader
the poet writes his lines
they are all dead
unless the reader comes
and resurrects them
then the poem becomes alive
and begins to read upon itself
the meaning of its existence
there is a bond between the poet
and the reader
a familiarity comes into play
one says> this is what it is
the other says> i know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nada Mas (only the poem)
Reader, your voice is the poem
you are the words; and
nothing more.
Reader, there is no poetry
unless you speak it.
Reader, there is no sound
you must find what it has to say.
Reader, seek the thought
rising from your soul.
Reader, look all about you, up and down
no one else has come this way.
Reader, there is no other poem
only you among the words of the word; and
nothing more.
poem by Smoky Hoss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ballade Of The Average Reader
I try to touch the public taste,
For thus I earn my daily bread.
I try to write what folks will paste
In scrap books after I am dead.
By Public Craving I am led.
(I' sooth, a most despotic leader)
Yet, though I write for Tom and Ned,
I've never seen an average reader.
The Editor is good and chaste,
But says: (Above the public's head;
This is _too_ good; 'twill go to waste.
Write something commonplacer-
Ed.)
Write for the average reader, fed
By pre-digested near-food's feeder,
But though my high ideals have fled,
I've never _seen_ an average reader.
How many lines have been erased!
How many fancies have been shed!
How many failures might be traced
To this-this average-reader dread!
I've seen an average single bed;
I've seen an average garden-weeder;
I've seen an average cotton thread-
I've _never_ seen an average _reader_.
L'ENVOI
Most read of readers, if you've read
The works of any old succeeder,
You know that he, too, must have said:
'I've never seen an Average Reader.'
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fast Train
Written by: myles goodwyn
I read the colors this mornin
I read the colors today
About a man who left from nowhere to be someone
And every day he has to pay in every way
I met a man from new york city
He spoke of things Ive yet to find
A good man driven from his homeland
Tryin to find some piece of mind
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
Its a fast train
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Would Like It Better If
If I wrote to be liked,
I would not be read.
And I do like that some read,
What I write!
But I would like it better,
If I was fed...
By what it is I've said that is written...
And read by those who read what I wrote!
Finding a nibble to afford,
Liked And nourishes...
To feed the reader something read,
Coming from this writer's head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little pink shoes
Those little pink shoes
Hurriedly forgotten
In the kitchen
As she ran off to play
Brought such a tender smile
To my heart
She’s grown so fast
From crawling to running
And everything pink!
Soon sandals and high heels
That’s what she’ll want
When the boys start asking her out
But for now little angel
When you’re back from play
I’ll be waiting for you
With a hug and some cake
Smiling, with stories
Of your innocent play
poem by Anita Atina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I play the harmonica. The only way I can play is if I get my car going really fast, and stick it out the window.
quote by Steven Wright
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Willie and Henrietta
If two may read aright
These rhymes of old delight
And house and garden play,
You too, my cousins, and you only, may.
You in a garden green
With me were king and queen,
Were hunter, soldier, tar,
And all the thousand things that children are.
Now in the elders' seat
We rest with quiet feet,
And from the window-bay
We watch the children, our successors, play.
"Time was," the golden head
Irrevocably said;
But time which one can bind,
While flowing fast away, leaves love behind.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Technology
Technology is our future.
That's what they all say.
But I think our future
is getting in our way.
We, as humans
are becoming robotic.
So much so
that it seems idiotic.
We rely on machines
to tell us what to do.
If the computers are down
no one has a clue.
The kids play with joysticks
held tightly in their hand,
mowing people down
as fast as they can.
DVD video games
are all the rage now.
Kids don't skip rope anymore.
They've forgotten how.
Every day another gadget
is every kid's dream.
Just flick the tube on.
There's the advertising scheme.
Now what we have happening
I'm sure we all can see
is the technological giants
created a false reality.
Just sit and watch closely
that most kids we see today
don't know about simplicity
when it comes to play.
They long for it, I know.
For that's how we are made.
We've instincts for being human,
not robots on parade.
We cannot stop technology.
It's gone too far for that.
But progress must be sensible
and not replace humans to be an automate.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kids just don't read any more. They spend much more time with video games. It's just hard to get kids to read anything. Book sales have dropped dramatically, too. I think 90% of the books are bought only by 5% of the US population.
quote by Stan Sakai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Reader of Poetry /Who Was So Sad
A READER OF POETRY/ WHO WAS SO SAD
A reader of Poetry
Who was so sad
Read my poem
And now is glad.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To decode
A cat drawn in dots is read as a cat.
The gaps inbetween being read along.
Words said must be read with the words unsaid.
If not, the reader will fault decoding.
01.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Grey Rooms
Tomorrow is sunday
Now theres only one day left to go
Till you walk by
Below my window
The weekends drive me mad
Holidays are oh too sad
cause you dont go
Below my window
No one knows Im here
One day I just disappeared
And I took these two grey rooms up here
With a view
When you walk by
Below my window
You look so youthful
Time has been untruthful
Heaven knows I loved you
30 years ago
Hot days your shirts undone
Rainy days you run
Oh and then you fade so fast
Below my window
No one knows Im here
One day I just disappeared
And I took these two grey rooms up here
With a view
Only when you walk by
Below my window
When you walk by
Below my window
Below my window
Hey hey
Below my window
Below my window
Below my window
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poor Poor Kids
Be quiet! Don't make a sound!
Speak when you're spoken to!
What awful fearful bounds
Speaking only on cue
Poor poor kids
You can't go out and play today!
It's punishment, unfitting the crime
This parental power display
For kids, like serving hard-time
Poor poor kids
Adults wield such power
They must be listened to
They can their poor kids cower
As they dim their kids world view
Power seeds have been sown
Hopefully they'll not sprout
So when kids are fully grown
Their kids will not self doubt
poem by Stanley Cooper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sad House
the children are locked inside the house
if they go out once again
they shall be chained like dogs
once the hyperactive one
fell from the window
but its bones are strong and it knew how to land
like a cat
on the hard floor
spoiled kids says the mother
who is out of the house most of the time
they deserve punishment
says the father who is sick with lung cancer
stuffed toys
these kids without necks
they were never allowed to play
they have to go direct
to become
cruel men later
and no one is to blame
no one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I've always been an avid reader. If I don't have a book in the car, I'll stop and pick one up just to have something to read. I don't even remember learning to read.
Reader or writer
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should be a positive thinker.
You are more like a scientist observer.
Try to be an exact experimenter.
Nothing is too crazy to put on paper.
If you are a reader or a writer.
The reader is a wonderful dreamer.
The writer is a sincere worker.
Its lovely that both can be each other.
If you are a reader or a writer.
You should never say never.
So don't leave behind a book marker.
Make sure you have a word sharpener.
Little Kids
'Little kids,' you call us
As we are at play.
You were little children
Just the other day.
Now to-morrow nears us,
Soon we too shall stand
Men and women rulers
Of the sea and land.
'Little kids' at play time:
But at home or school
Think about our future,
Make us fit to rule.
Guide us wisely onward-
Teach us what is true.
Though we are but kiddies
We are watching you!
Give us good examples!
While we are at play,
Often we are aping
What you do and say.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Wants To Play Hearts
I am a broken toy
For a lonely girl
Use once and destroy
And go find some more
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I'm the rag doll boy
With broken eyes
She only comes to me
When it's raining outside
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
She wants to play a game of hearts
I fell for you
I fell for you
Why?
I guess I wanted to play too.
Here's the lonely string
Playing 'long in my head
For only just my arms
Are dancing marionettes
Back home, kids play in the leaves in the park
And she wants to play a game of hearts
She wants to play a game of hearts
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every time I perform, I work really hard to give part of myself to the audience. Then I do an interview and I read some story that just isn't true, or someone draws a crazy conclusion about my life, and it's such a betrayal. It hasn't happened here, but in Croatia, I've had to stop reading about myself. I don't think actors mean to be secretive - they just don't want strangers looking through their kitchen window.
quote by Goran Višnjić
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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