People who have been made to suffer by certain things cannot be reminded of them without a horror which paralyses every other pleasure, even that to be found in reading a story.
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In Memory Of The Unknown Poet, Robert Boardman Vaughn
But the essential advantage for a poet is not, to have a beautiful world with which to deal: it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
T. S. ELIOT
It was his story. It would always be his story.
It followed him; it overtook him finally—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
Probably at the end he was not yet sorry,
Even as the boots were brutalizing him in the alley.
It was his story. It would always be his story,
Blown on a blue horn, full of sound and fury,
But signifying, O signifying magnificently
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
I picture the snow as falling without hurry
To cover the cobbles and the toppled ashcans completely.
It was his story. It would always be his story.
Lately he had wandered between St. Mark’s Place and the Bowery,
Already half a spirit, mumbling and muttering sadly.
O the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
All done now. But I remember the fiery
Hypnotic eye and the raised voice blazing with poetry.
It was his story and would always be his story—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
poem by Donald Justice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ever After
The life of a fairy tale.
Can be like our own.
The ending is happy.
But the story unknown.
The story begins.
Then there’s always a twist.
You can’t get to the ending.
Unless you persist.
Some stop reading the story.
When things, they look bleak.
They don’t have the strength.
Their hearts are too weak.
So they grab a new tale.
Then the reading begins.
If it ends in the middle.
Then nobody wins.
So things just seem hopeless.
Because we always quit.
We don’t finish the story.
To the fear we submit.
God tells us, “Hold on.”
“The ending is near.”
“Just keep reading the story.”
“Don’t give in to fear.”
“Believe in My ending.”
“Believe and then hope.”
“That the hero will climb up.”
“From the end of his rope.”
And so you continue
The prince finds his queen
The greatest fairy tale ending
You ever had seen
But had you not finished.
The true ending unknown.
The prince would not have a queen.
To share with his throne.
Fairy tales are filled.
With both sadness and laughter.
Where you finish the story.
Becomes your ever after.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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It Was A Pleasure Then
It was a pleasure then
Could you just be here again
To know what there was to see
When all the sunday people
Where so quiet in the dark
Afraid to be better the next day
La la la ...
It was a pleasure then
When we could sit and stare again
Until the stars feel through the cloudy trees
Onto the grass
Stars to smile with us
Until they too had tears in their eyes
Tell us this and tell of how much we must not agree
It was a pleasure then
To see the dieing days again
In the horror of the night
Never, never, never, never, never, lise
Keep it secret
For to hide somewhere at last
As long as we could see
The sky confessed this crime
Of futile tasting hate romance
Above our shattered minds
It was a pleasure, it was a pleasure
La la la ...
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterday's News
Hey, hey..
mm..yeah
I've got something to tell you
Yeah!
Oh yeah!
I'm catching the fast train
Soon i'll be long, long gone
And i shoot through the night
Like a bullet from a loaded gun
They been trying to use me
Lie and abuse me
They're trying to break me
No one can take me, no way
Now i'm way down, i'm way down
Yes i'm way down, i'm way down
I'm so down i'm reading yesterdays news
I woke up this morning
Leaving on my mind
And i said to myself
I ain't gonna waste more time, no
I need someone to save me
Love and embrace me
They been trying to get me
Trying to set me up, bad luck
Now i'm way down, i'm way down
Yes i'm way down, i'm way down
I'm so down i'm reading yesterdays news
Yeah, yeah
I got time on my head
I know what i'll do
One made bed
I know i'm come through
Cause i know in my heart
There are things to be said
From the pain that i suffer
And the crush that i'll pay
Now i'm way down, i'm way down
Yes I'm way down, i'm way down
Yes i'm way, way, way, way down
I'm way, way, way down
I'm way, way, way down
Way down, yeah...
I'm so down i'm reading yesterdays news
song performed by by Europe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Storyteller's Word
In a decent book, I can lose myself,
For, at least, a good couple of hours.
A well told story, for young or old,
My mind will quite hungrily devour.
I’ve always loved a real page turner:
A story, which, is totally compelling.
Sometimes, there’s a story, true or invented,
Which, simply, deserves, and needs telling.
Sometimes, a person in a book,
To me, can feel like a true friend;
You share their life and adventures,
And feel rather sad, when it all ends.
A story can stir up a mixture of emotions:
I’ve cried tears, and gasped with surprise.
I’ve found myself completely captivated,
As a story unfolds before my very eyes.
A good story, has the ability to transport you,
To different places, and to different times.
You just never know where you may end up,
When you sit and read those immortal lines.
Stories should never be kept locked away:
With others, they should be readily shared.
There is no other past-time, known to man,
With which, reading a book, can quite compare.
Whether a story is based on a person’s life,
Or whether, it has been quite purely invented,
A story can make such an impact upon you,
That, forever, in your memory, it is cemented.
I’ve always adored a really well written story,
Regardless of, by whom, or when, it was written.
Snuggled up, with a book held in your hands,
It is so easy, to become completely smitten.
A story can make you lose all track of time,
When, in a book, you are totally immersed.
I love reading a story, and really drinking it in;
For reading books, I’ve developed a real thirst.
There are many stories, the world over,
Which, are still waiting to be heard.
Nothing on earth, is quite so powerful,
As the power of the storyteller’s word.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Horror Race
As the dusk gave way to dawn
I was trekking on my way home and I saw
a lifeless body with flies hovering over it
The vacant eyes told a story
A story of horror and inhumanity,
The body would be there for days
On the Lagos Streets
Here I am in London
Watching the same horror race,
Teenagers totting guns
Felling young men under hails of bullets
In a horror race,
Rain of tears fall from my eyes
As I watch parents burying an eleven-year old
Killed before he understood the world
In this horror race
Mankind hides under religion,
He hides under all sorts of pretences
To commit atrocities
From Lagos to London to Kabul to Baghdad,
Mankind needs redemption from this horror race
poem by Martin Ayanbare Ayankola
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Surfer Joe & Moe The Sleaze
Heres a story about surfer joe
He caught the big one, but he let it go
Theres somebody satisfied with winning.
Back on the boardwalk theres moe the sleaze
Sells good things and aims to please
Hes almost even but he doesnt mind a handout.
Come on down for a pleasure cruise
Were all going on a pleasure cruise
Come on down for a pleasure cruise
Plenty of women, plenty of booze.
Give your ticket to moe the sleaze
Hes the one thats weak in the knees
His pants are baggy, but you can see them shaking.
Ill introduce you to surfer joe
He may be there, I really dont know
We can smoke garfong and watch him ride the big one.
Come on down for a pleasure cruise
Were all going on a pleasure cruise
Come on down for a pleasure cruise
Plenty of women, plenty of booze.
Come on down, come on down
Come on down, come on.
Heres a story about surfer joe
He caught the big one, and he let it go
Theres somebody satisfied with winning.
Heres a story about surfer joe
He caught the big one, and he let it go
Hes somebody satisfied with winning.
Hes somebody.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Chronicles of A New Day part 7 How New?
How can this day be new?
i feel like i am struggling with the same struggles same two
even four the same things same feelings same horror
i feel like an explorer
in my own life none of it is new already found all the torture
made new yet somehow could this day be new?
poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Strange Arrangement Of Colour
A strange arrangement of colours
You found your feet where you put her
I'm after you, you're after me
The things that we say, the things that we see
We've got to be reminded, Where did you go?
And what did you see, when you were there?
What did you leave? leave? leave? leave?
The light that is reflected
The times that you rejected
Your after me, I'm after you,
The things that we say
The things that we do
We've got to be good looking
Where did you go? And what did you see,
When you were there?
What did you leave? leave? leave? leave?
A lie that is rejected
A time that we reflected
I'm after you, you're after me
The things that we say, the things that we see
We've got to be reminded, Where did you go?
And what did you see, when you were there?
What did you leave? leave? leave? leave?
A strange arrangement of colours
song performed by by I Am Kloot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picture-Books in Winter
Summer fading, winter comes--
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hammer Horror
You stood in the belltower,
But now youre gone.
So who knows all the sights
Of notre dame?
Theyve got the stars for the gallant hearts.
Im the replacement for your part.
But all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
Rehearsing in your things,
I feel guilty.
And retracing all the scenes,
Of your big hit,
Oh, god, you needed the leading role.
It wasnt me who made you go, though.
Now all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
Who calls me from the other side
Of the street?
And who taps me on the shoulder?
I turn around, but youre gone.
Ive got a hunch that youre following,
To get your own back on me.
So all I want to do is forget
You, friend.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave me alone.
The first time in my life,
I leave the lights on
To ease my soul.
Hammer horror, hammer horror,
Wont leave it alone.
I dont know,
Is this the right thing to do?
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At MTV, although the audience is smaller, I found it more interesting to deliver news to a specific group of people, because my story then did not have to try to be all things to all people.
quote by Tabitha Soren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think that the online world has actually brought books back. People are reading because they're reading the damn screen. That's more reading than people used to do.
quote by Bill Murray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Happy, Make Others Happy.
Hearing a story is a pleasure;
Curiosity enlivens it.
Telling a story is more a pleasure;
Pride of knowing enhances it..
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kawabata
No doubt
the crazy boy thinks
he's having his mother read
some sort of record
of his memories,
something that he wrote himself-
that's what he thinks
he's listening to.
His eyes sparkle
with pride.
His mother has no idea
whether or not he understands
what she's saying,
but every time
she comes to see him
she repeats
the same story,
and she gets better
and better at telling it-
it begins to seem like
she's actually reading a story
of her son's.
She remembers things
she had forgotten.
And the son's memories grow
more beautiful.
The son is drawing
the mother's story out,
helping her,
changing the story-
there's no way
of telling
whose novel it is,
whether it's the mother's
or the son's.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Keeps Me Reminded
I wont be the one found,
Trying to re-invent new methods...
To exist without expressing insanity.
Not me.
There is too much to adventure.
Plus...
And I am discovering many of them.
There is something about the old ways,
Of doing things...
That keeps me reminded,
It is not that bad to be considered 'nuts'.
And out of touch from the accepted,
'Normalcy'...
Of those things today presented.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What I Like To Do
The computer is an addictive thing
I go on it everyday
Checking my messages and facebook account
This is my way to stay
Even though the computer is fun
And i go on it quite a bit
Reading and writing storys and poems
I would never quit
As well as reading and writing
I love my nature too
Camping and fishing and other things
But this is nothing new
As you can tell with my poetry
I'm a creative and artistic person
I like to create and make things
Which with people tend to stun
This is a little about me
and what I like to do
I hope your all creative people
....... Well most of you
poem by Samantha Ridley
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Semi-true Story
By: mac mcanally
With his head out the sunroof
And his heart in the right place
Plan b was foolproof
He drove off to her place
He yelled out his feelings
Among other stuff
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the picture is fuzzy
And the details are sorted
It was on the same day that gods own drunk was recorded
A walking tall sheriff and a big cadillac
And me and golf shoes on the hood making tracks
This daring young singer was under attack
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the things that Ive lived
And Ive dreamed
And Ive seen
And Ive heard
Youll take the good with the bad
And be glad that every word
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they run like the rain
All the way to the sea
Semi-true stories
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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