Related quotes: The life of every man...

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it.

quote by James M. Barrie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another.

quote by James M. Barrie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Surprise For Myself....

on his diary he writes:

dear diary
i have sacrificed a lot
years are like
layers of steel on my back
time is running fast
abnormally
on engineered days
canals are overflowing
with water
the cities are flooded
i am drowning
and yet how helpless
can i be
how dumb
not to call for professional
help or even
to talk to a close friend
about it
only to find that actually
i do not have any
of these
closer encounters
or needed
intimacies

tomorrow my dear diary
i will write more
courageously
i pray for more strength
more wisdom

tomorrow dear diary
i will surprise myself.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Must

She writes as if there’s not much time.
She writes to pain, to happiness,
She writes to every remote detailed thought.
She writes to the departed,
to the extant,
to poverty,
to wealth.
She writes to mourn, and grief.
She writes to the wind, the rain,
forest, the desert, and mountains.
She writes to her pouring tears,
to her grateful moments,
She writes because really what she has is time.
She has no little ones to feed, or bathe,
nor a husband to make happy. To write is
to escape- to her. Time is not a problem, time
is just a killing system, she needs to kill in many words.
She writes as if there’s not much time.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dear Diary

Dear diary, what a day its been.
Dear diary, its been just like a dream.
Woke up late. wasnt where I should have been.
For goodness sake whats happening to me.
Write lightly, yours truly, dear diary.
It was cold outside my door.
So many people by the score.
Rushing around so senselessly.
They dont notice theres people like me.
Write lightly, yours truly, dear diary.
They dont know what theyre playing.
Theyve no way of knowing what the game is.
Still they carry on doing what they can.
Outside me, yours truly, dear diary.
Its over. will tomorrow be the same?
I know that theyre really not to blame.
If they wernt so blind then surely theyd see.
Theres a much better way for them to be.
Inside me, yours truly, dear diary.
.
.
.
Somebody exploded an h-bomb today.
But it wasnt anyone I knew.

song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I talk to Simon, I write to him. I never used to write a diary. But now I'm writing a diary to him. I think it's not just me, but lots of others, family and friends, can still feel him around.

quote by Petra Nemcova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Each new day is a blank page in the diary of your life. The secret of success is in turning that diary into the best story you possibly can.

Douglas Pagels in A Wonderful Resolution For The New Year!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Diary

There is someone who is there.
Someone who is near me.
And that is my Diary.
I can write my feelings through words.

I can express my thoughts,
Whenever I see my Diary.
I feel like writing not reading.
Starting from day and ending in night.

Whenever I get time.I will write.
Diary starts with letter D.
Feelings starts with letter F.
IF I bring this together.
It will be Deep feelings.

poem by Yash Pradhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Diary

I looked in my diary, no spaces today,
A life so eventful, stacked with appointments too important to break,
Lunch at the bistro, tea at the savoy cafe,
No time to contemplate the isolation,
No second can be wasted, no space to think because,
My diary is full but my life is empty.
Oh yes, my diary is full but my life is empty.
Its all so contemporary, the sheer pretension of it,
Its all so temporary, but all so shallow really,
Let me look, I might be able to squeeze you in between,
No, my diary is so full I couldnt possibly meet you today,
This evening is blocked out with potential investors in my lonely one-man play,
Perhaps next week maybe when there are fewer functions to attend,
So for now Ill pencil you in,
Between the visit to my doctor, my appointment at the bank,
This time its really crucial, thats why its written in red,
My diary is my life and my life is standing on my head,
Oh my diary is full but my life is empty,
Oh yes my diary is full but my life...
I look at your picture on my bedroom wall,
Im trying to forget you, thats why my diary is so full,
Chock-a-block with engagements but its only for show,
cause Im all dressed up with nowhere to go,
To stop my isolation, keep myself occupied,
My diary is my one salvation,
Names, dates, numbers, but inside I long to cancel all those entries,
My diary is full but my lifes empty,
My diary is full but my life is empty.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

My Diary (Demo Recording)

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Written in Black Ink

Upon
The tear-stained
Paper

She writes

Writes,
Her story

Her experiences
Her life

Written in
Black ink

Upon
The tear-stained
Paper

She writes

Writes,
Her sorrows

People she lost
People who are gone

Written in
Black ink

She writes for
Days and
Days

Until
At last
Her masterpiece

Is finished

Her eyes Begin to
Close and
Oblivion Takes hold

And when she
Awakens
Her story will be written

Written in black ink

poem by Autumn Winds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Maybe I Was Damon In A Past Life

Maybe I was Damon Runyon in a past time
he died at age 66 which was the year I began my life.
I also write about someone I call the "Guy"
who maybe is kind of shy.
Damon wrote a play with Dolls & Guys
which was acted out in NYC—very true-not a lie.
I write about a Doll
who is cute and kind of small.
Damon also named his pet _____
almost like mine.
I write about a character with letter
beginning with N—
he was only a sponsor to me—
he wanted to be more than friends—
Just like Damon-
who writes about characters where
he actually supported them
in his writing he actually defends.
Damon also writes about baseball
I don't know baseball at all.
I am more of a poet who story-tells-
I write of the doll character nicknamed Mel.
See baseball is not my cup of tea—
but to Damon he was famous for
being a reporter known around the country.

Written by Suzae Chevalier on March 17,2012

poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Thoughts Volume Spun Quantum

heavy duty speed rapid writes
hour upon hour speed writes
poem immediately upon poem
until after 3 am wrote prism

light spectrums split awesome
thoughts volume spun quantum
till energy eclipsed sun passed
optics engulfed mind opens vast

sleep begs visions cannot last
till morning sleep dawn well past
morning wake heavily encrusted
in mind that ran flood fast tired

Dedicated to the painter poet Hosney Soliman.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Diary

one day you shall write about a ship
in the middle of the sea
on a dark night

one day you shall write about the man
who was there without any hint
about where he is
and where he is going

you will finish writing about it
and let it stay there
until you close the pages
and declare that this is what life is all about

one day you shall open it again
and write about the man who plunged into
the middle of the sea
to find the message of its depths

whatever happens close your diary for a while
wait until you feel the switch
inside the dark room of your heart
find the sea and find the right hour to plunge just as it was written

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Nothing Compares To You

It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since u took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since u took your love away
Since u been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues,
'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
It's been so lonely without u here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop this lonely rage
Tell me baby where did I go wrong
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they'd only remind me of you
I went to the doctor guess what he told me
Guess what he told me
He said rossie u better have fun
No matter what u do
Cause it's the blues
'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u
All the flowers that u planted
In the back yard suga
All died when u went away
I know that living with me baby was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to try, said I'm willing to give it another try.
'Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares 2 u

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Writing Poetry

Some people write poetry
to fulfil their dream,
others write it as a personal diary.
While yet more write to protest.
Some write sonnets
for unfrequented love.
Some bring laughter
to sad faces somewhere,
while others dwell on memories
that they would like to share.
Some write of love, while
others write of God.
Write as you will on anything,
but the main point is that you write,
and give joy to all that will read.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I do not keep a diary. Never have. To write a diary every day is like returning to one's own vomit.

quote by J. Enoch Powell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Diary Of Me

Umm pum-pum-pum
Pum-pum, pum-pum, pum-pum
Look behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be some things I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct all the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be some things I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
'Cause
Where I'm from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (a child was born) (ooh)
And raised without a man (without my... father, and wonder why he's in these streets) (ooh)
My mother's gone (mothers gone, yet still... found the strength to pray for me) (ooh)
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book (na-na-na-na-na-na)
Turn the pages of my life (na-na-na)
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from (ahh...)
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery (ahh...)
Look in my eyes (ahh...)
You'll see the diary of me (pum-pum-pum-pum-pum)
Where I'm from (where I'm from, who could believe) (ahh...)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see) (ahh...)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) my diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes (ahh...)
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) (ahh...)
(And you will see) yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...) (ahh...)

song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

There Was Nothing Left To Write

THERE WAS NOTHING LEFT TO WRITE

There was nothing left to write
Everything had already been written
And was being written over again and again
By thousands elsewhere-

There was nothing left to write
And nothing new to say -

And no need for anything he had to give-

It was over for him as a writer
Whether he accepted it or not-

No one would ever need or want anything he could do again-

And so when he despite all this still wrote

It seemed to many simply pathetic-

The obsessive reflex of an already lost soul-
Who wrote and wrote and wrote
Who writes and writes and writes

Who cannot stop
However senseless all he does, is.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A sad melody in a Livestock

This is the story of a cockerel and a pullet.
Her name is Diana; not the princess
And his name is Charles; but not the prince.
Anyway the poor two creatures are true exemplary lovers.
Meanwhile the cunning poulterer writes in his blood-stained business diary the dates of their unfair destiny to the town butchery.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Diary Of Me

Ummm pum pum pum pum pum
Looked behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from
Friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be
Somethings I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct
All the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be somethings I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
Cause
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (A child was born)
And raised without a man (without a man, raised in the streets)
My mother's gone
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book
Turn the pages of my life
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery
Look in my eyes
You'll see the diary of me
Where I'm from (where I'm from who could believe)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) My diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes)
(And you will see) yeah yeah yeah yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...)