To be amused at what you read - that is the great spring of quotation.
quote by Charles Edward Montague
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To be amused by what you read--that is the great spring of happy quotations.
quote by C.E. Montague
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every book is a quotation; and every house is a quotation out of all forests, and mines, and stone quarries; and every man is a quotation from all his ancestors.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian
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Often Amused
I am often amused,
By those electing to be suppressed...
In distressed environments.
And since they disrespect themselves,
Anyone living within it...
Gets the same treatment.
No matter what the influences achieved may be.
I am often amused,
By those who critique others...
With equal debilitating sustained values.
As if this depiction makes them feel a safety,
To bring everyone down to a level...
That expresses their disgust!
I am often amused!
But my expereinces outside of this,
I refuse to anyone 'limited' to discuss.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In the theater, while you recognized that you were looking at a house, it was a house in quotation marks. On screen, the quotation marks tend to be blotted out by the camera.
quote by Arthur Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think most people read and re-read the things that they have liked. That's certainly true in my case. I re-read Pound a great deal, I re-read Williams, I re-read Thomas, I re-read the people whom I cam to love when I was at what you might call a formative stage.
quote by James Laughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Windy Hope But Steady Vision
somethimes it seems to be shaking
sometimes it seems to be ruining
sometimes it seems to be happy
but
existence is not sometimes
it is so much quotidian that we don't even know it is quotidian.
non-homan experience
computational intelligence
cognitive unconsciousness
frame is already embodied
truth is public
public is no truth
alienation of quotation
otherness of quotation marks
quotationmarks in quotation marks
meaning is a ghost comiong back to primal origin
but originality is in the materiality of comptemplating mental formations embodied inside the body on the borderline
of spectcular mix-up of concepts and passion
meaning is just a part os participated reality
running away from culivation of wisdom literally called enlightened spirit
contemporary existence is quotidian forms of a multi-styled thought before events
Praise for their works
William Shakespeare is great,
I know but I haven’t read.
John Milton is great,
I know but I haven’t read.
Nor have I urge to do so.
Authors need you read their works.
16.06.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Spring Did Come.
Spring did come,
On butterfly's wings.
On a flitting bird,
And the song it sings.
Spring did come,
When the flowers bloomed,
When it filled the air
With a sweet purfume.
Spring did come,
On the morning's breeze.
Spring did come,
On budding leaves.
Spring did come,
On blades of dew.
Spring did come,
In skies of blue.
Spring did come,
With a joyous ring.
Spring did come...
Welcome, Spring!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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The sunlight that comes in spring
The sunlight of spring comes amidst welcome
Why?
It brings refreshment and calmness
That you and I ever anticipated
And not like the hot sun
of a hot noon in summer
Come, oh come, sun, sunlight
In this our spring of camaraderie.
(All thanks go to Michael Brock. As I read his poem The)
(Sunlight of Spring, I got hooked up. )
poem by Kolawole Ajao
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Spring Fever
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
A little bird, he told me so
He said come on, get on the go
Open your eyes the sky is full of butterflies
The blossoms on the trees stir up the honey bees
Spring makes my fever right
Spring fever, spring is here at last
Spring fever, my hearts beating fast
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Well if you feel the wanderlust
Just grab a car or hop a bus
In every town theres excitement to be found
So much is happening
Dont miss the joy of spring
The worlds in love just look around
Spring fever comes to everyone
Spring fever, its time for fun
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring fever, its spring fever time
Spring fever, watch that fever climb
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring is everywhere
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't get angry very often. I lose my temper rarely. And when I do, there's always a legitimate cause. Normally I have a great lightness of being. I take things in a very happy, amused way.
quote by Julia Roberts
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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This Poetry
This poetry is not poetry
This poetry is not poetry as poetry goes
But is as silent as a man in a rollo neck jumper
Almost reading yesterdays news
This poetry is not poetry
As far as poetry goes
It is neither verse
Or poesy prose
This is a debunking of 'The poetry'
Everyone knows
And so they are not amused
This poetry is not poetry
So why poetry?
If not
Prose?
It is as idle as a man picking his nose
Pondering a wonderful muse
Yet some, are not amused
Infact if this poetry is Not poetry
What right have I to use, the word poetry?
It is a lovely panacea for expressing and de stressing
The individual's points of view
And yet if not poetry
Who says Not poetry
And who is qualified to choose?
Give me a pocket full of roses
Or a misty morning cloud
Are you amused?
clammy wynette aka Yvette m smith
march 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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Mental
Its like Im dressed up in my mothers clothing
Its like Im talking to a voice that doesnt exist
Its like I got a wire crossed upstairs
But all I want is just a little truth and thats it
They say Im mental but Im just confused
Thay say Im mental but Ive been abused
They say Im mental cause Im not amused my it all
Another anchor man is on the t.v.
Hes got that far away and vacant look in his eyes
I turn the channel but nothings changing
The only truth is that everythings a lie
They say Im mental but Im just confused
Thay say Im mental but Ive been abused
They say Im mental cause Im not amused my it all
Theres truth in everything
Theres truth in lies
With all this knowledge
I think Im gonna be wise
They say Im mental but Im just confused
Thay say Im mental but Ive been abused
They say Im mental cause Im not amused my it all
Not at all
Not at all
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O! Spring
O! Spring
Come O! Storm of spring with prowess of youth
Come at budded life of spring coloring the mind
Young soul come
Come being sprinted on leafless tree.
Come O! Spring, come with fierce storm
Come singing the song of earth and man.
Burring fire in eyes offering great homage of block
Downing own self may be own
The sorrow, the hardship, the agitated way-
Great soul of heavenly happiness is sleeping at every seed
Fruit or seed first- who will answer?
As essential the sun the woman is to that extent.
Does river loses its soul when mix with sea?
Does every cloud cusses rainfall?
O! Spring, through any road you move
Homage of flower blooms at every road of those!
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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To Read And Read Again
TO READ AND READ AGAIN
To read and to read again
And to be left empty
By the abundance of words
Whose meanings multiplication
Erases all sense
Of their coherence
And our understanding.
To read and read again
As if in this pretence of learning
Salvation will come
To read and read again
And be forever dumb.
.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A September Day
A thing of such great beauty to behold
The wattles resplendent in their blooms of gold
The first week of September and Spring is in the air
And in the green park daisies bloom everywhere,
On a day like this 'tis good to be alive
To start your car and go off on a drive
So great to live to see another Spring
To hear the nesting wild birds chirp and sing,
Were i a poet i would write a simple lay
For to celebrate this beautiful Spring day
To celebrate the beauty i can see
Where the Goddess of Spring has spread her greenery
And the wattles laden in their golden flowers
Look resplendent in these mild September hours.
poem by Francis Duggan
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To Love Greatly Is To Risk Greatly
to love greatly
is to risk greatly
“better
to have loved
and lost
than never
to have loved
at all'”
to risk love
and give
what another
really needs
regardless
of whether
that includes
you or not
this is truly
giving unselfishly
the eternal classic
“if you love
something
let it go
if it comes
back to you
it is yours
if it doesn't
it never was”
beautiful brevity
refined thought
breaches differences
Inspired by the poem ‘The Differences Between’ by Eric Cockrell. First quotation from Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem ‘In Memoriam: 27,1850’. Second quotation origin is classified anonymous.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fall, Magnificient Fall
Oh to simply read you-Garrison-
Conjures up masterpieces in my minds eye-
Divine 'tis the Maple Tree (more so even now)
Unbridled passion, flows throughout the Autumns sky;
Oh, the colours that you write of, Garrison-
Golden Yellows to the Blazing Reds...
And of course, Falls Dance of Romance-
And the truth of the masterpieces-oft' ignored, once you're dead;
You touch upon the reality of it all-Garrison-
Not listening, as we ignore bad advise-given from the Maple tree...
And when the rain comes pouring and the wind blows gales-
In the end, what we really have is a heap of rotting leaves! ;
So say you of what it is like in St. Paul, Garrison?
Our own mortality, it cannot be put on pause...
For we are as fragile and forgettable as the maple tree-
Fighting our petty battles but for what noble cause? ? ?
You state basicically that we are born and then we die-
Can you imagine the obituarys of the great poets of the past?
Dying so young- -as Shelley and Keats-
We might feel a twinge reading it- but it would not last! ? !
Fall, oh your magnificient Fall- - Garrison...
Remembering the young romantic poets of their time-
Writing at their very best at 25, 28, 29, and 31...
Dying soon after completing their very best rhymes;
Oh how i love to read you, Garrison...
So brave-not allowing a little stroke-get you down-
A Prairie Home Companion and 77 Love Sonnets-are a must...
Were you aware that you're creating a Legacy that will indeed live on?
***************************************** ***********************************
It is with great admiration and esteem that i dedicate this poem
To Garrison Keilor...Of St Paul, Minnisota-Columnist-
Author of 77 Sonnets-Stroke Survivor Since The first Week In September Of 2009.
Here's to Spring Garrison
****Spring Magnificient Spring-Read it in the paper! ! !
Da do run run da do run run...
Met him on a Monday and my heart stood still
Somebody told me that his name was Bill.
Da Do run run Da do run run...
poem by Theodora Onken
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