Do you know what would hold me together on a battlefield? The sense that I was perpetuating the language in which Keats and the rest of them wrote!
quote by Wilfred Owen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Angels With Dirty Faces
I need this to get me through
can't resist and don't want to
believe it I know it's true
I can't beat and don't want to try
perfect hell
it's more to me than you ever will know
down here where the rest of us fell
waste away with nothing left to show
while I'm in this perfect hell
obsession has begun
possessed by destruction
how did I get so low
believe me no one knows
sometimes I can't hold on
and no one can help me
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
I'm walking pollution who's drained by delusions
on the verge of destruction I cave in to abduction
thin blood I'm bleeding my pulse won't stop racing
just as my heart explodes
no chance that I could win
too hard to not give in
I just don't feel the same
cause I'm the one to blame
sometimes I can't hold on
and no one can help me
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
I need this to be myself
it feels like I need some help
it's too late to save myself
or it's just in my head
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
now it's got a hold of me
I don't think I can make it through this
now it's got a hold of me
the less I do the more it makes no sense
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Battlefield Of Love
I am a soldier
A casualty of love
I've been from heaven
All the way to hell
I've had a journey
Much more than I can tell
I've got stories
Much more than I can sell
All this mass confusion
Causes chaos in my brain
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
With all of the illusions
I won't ever be the same
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
I'm a prisoner
A prisoner of love
I have been captured
And kept underground
I have been tortured
But I don't make a sound
'Cause I know one day
One day I will be found
All this mass confusion
Causes chaos in my brain
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
With all of the illusions
I won't ever be the same
I'm on the battlefield
The battlefield of love
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Lenny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am not a soldier
'Hey! I take my hands up
And please don't shoot me
This is my grand son's toy gun.'
'Then why did you come to the battlefield? ' Soldier inquired.
'I am jogging as per my diabetes doctor's advise.'
'You should go to a playground.'
'Certainly this is a playground not a battlefield brother,
Both parties are friends and why hold the guns?
While enemies groan in their castles comfortably.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My sense of a poem - my notion of how you revise - is: you get yourself into a state where what you are intensely conscious of is not why you wrote it or how you wrote it, but what you wrote.
quote by Philip Levine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Oldest Game Played
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Initiating disturbances,
And claiming to be victimized...
Is decreasing in its effectiveness.
People finally are opening their eyes.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
They begin with pretense to befriend someone.
Like the smile of a demon,
To ensure its welcome.
And then to make claims...
Of something despicable the innocent one has done,
To then defame and assassinate good character...
With a perception that success,
Is soon to be won!
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
Those 'Woe is me I don't know what happened' facades...
Are being stripped away for what they are.
Those who deceive and lie,
With pity party invitations...
Have devastated friendships and relationships,
Behind masqueraded false faces.
The oldest game played,
Is coming to an end.
And those who have played it,
Are being exposed for perpetuating them.
'Why would they lie like that?
Deceive and create conflict? '
~What is it that you have they might perceive,
As a value to them? ~
'Well...
Nothing I haven't with them shared.'
~They did not want it shared!
They wanted it theirs.~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I feel impelled to speak today in a language that in a sense is new-one which I, who have spent so much of my life in the military profession, would have preferred never to use. That new language is the language of atomic warfare.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More has been screwed up on the battlefield and misunderstood in the Pentagon because of a lack of understanding of the English language than any other single factor.
quote by John W. Vessey, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No More
I wrote my name on the seashore
The waves came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the air
The wind came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the sky
The clouds came and it was no more
I wrote my name in the puddles
The sun came and it was no more
i wrote my name in the dust
The rain came and it was no more
One day Gabriel wrote my name
and alas! i was no more
poem by Humna Hamid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Pig's-Eye View Of Literature
The Lives and Times of John Keats,
Percy Bysshe Shelley, and
George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron
Byron and Shelley and Keats
Were a trio of Lyrical treats.
The forehead of Shelley was cluttered with curls,
And Keats never was a descendant of earls,
And Byron walked out with a number of girls,
But it didn't impair the poetical feats
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley,
Of Byron and Shelley and Keats.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Calico Skies
It was written that I would love you
From the moment I opened my eyes
And the morning when I first saw you
Gave me life under calico skies.
I will hold you for as long as you like
Ill hold you for the rest of my life
Always looking for ways to love you
Never failing to fight at your side
While the angels of love protect us
From the innermost secrets we hide
Ill hold you for as long as you like
Ill hold you for the rest of my life
Long live all of us were crazy soldiers who
Were born under calico skies
May we never be called to handle
All the weapons of war we despise
Ill hold you for as long as you like
Ill hold you for the rest of my life
Ill hold you for as long as you like
Ill love you for the rest of my...
For the rest of my life
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE...by Talile Ali
IVE SEEN ALL KINDS OF UGLINESS PRACTICED BY FOLKS THESE DAYS
BECAUSE THEY'RE PRETTY THEY SEEM TO THINK IT'S OK
TO RUN AROUND WRECKLESSLY AND DESTROY ALL THEY MAY
FOR SOME REASON NO ONE WILL PUT THEM IN PLACE
THEY LET THEM RUN AROUND AND RUIN A SPACE
AS IF BEING PRETTY WAS A LICENCE TO DEFACE
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
FOR PERPETUATING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
WHEN AN ARGUEMENT COMES WALKIN THRU THAT FRONT DOOR
PRETTY WILL BE USED TO SHUT IT DOWN AND WHATS MORE
IT NEVER UNDERSTANDS WHAT THE HELL FOR
THE SAD TRUTH ABOUT HOW ALL OF US PLAY
AROUND WITH PRETTY HOPING TO BE RUBBED THE RIGHT WAY
PRETTY ALWAYS ONLY HAS IT ONE WAY-IT'S DAY!
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
FOR PERPETUATING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
SO IF YOU FIND YOUR SELF BEING DRAWN UPON SOME DAY
GY SOMEONE PRETTY, THEN IT'S BEST RUN AWAY
CAUSE IF YOU DON'T YOU WILL BE THOROUGHLY PLAYED
AS YOU WATCH YOUR WORLD SPIN OUT OF CONTROL
YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH OF A FOOL YOU'VE BEEN SHOWED
YOUR IMAGE CORRUPTED AS IT APPEARS WHEN IT SO NEAR
PRETTY PEOPLE
FOR PERPETUATING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wrote A Poem/ And Was Done For The Day
I WROTE A POEM / AND WAS DONE FOR THE DAY
I wrote a poem
And was done for the day-
Satisfied and at peace
I could rest and sleep-
The road is long
I rest on it
Tomorrow it will open again
And again I will sleep -
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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PRETTY'S NO EXCUSE...by Talile Ali
SEEN ALL KINDS OF UGLINESS DONE BY FOLKS THESE DAYS
JUST CAUSE THEY'RE PRETTY THEY SEEM TO THINK IT'S OK
TO RUN AROUND WRECKLESSLY AND DESTROY WHAT THEY MAY
FOR SOME REASON NO ONE WILL PUT THEM IN THEIR PLACE
THEY LET THEM RUN AROUND AND RUIN THE SPACE
BEING PRETTY IS THEIR LICENCE TO DEFACE
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
FOR PERPETUATING SELF-SERVING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
WHEN AN ARGUEMENT COMES WALKIN THRU THAT FRONT DOOR
PRETTY WILL BE USED TO SHUT IT DOWN AND WHATS MORE
IT NEVER GIVES A DAMN OR WHAT THE HELL FOR
SAD TRUTH ABOUT IT IS THAT WE ALL PLAY
AROUND WITH PRETTY HOPING TO BE RUBBED RIGHT THAT DAY
BUT PRETTY ALWAYS HAS IT DONE JUST ONE WAY-ITS WAY
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
FOR PERPETUATING SELF-SERVING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
SO IF YOU FIND YOUR SELF BEING DRAWN UPON SOME DAY
BY SOMEONE PRETTY, THEN IT'S BEST YOU RUN AWAY
CAUSE IF YOU DON'T YOU WILL BE CHEWED UP AND THROWN AWAY
AS YOU WATCH YOUR WORLD SPIN OUT OF CONTROL
YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH A FOOL YOU'VE BEEN SHOWED
YOUR IMAGE CORRUPTED AS IT APPEARS WHEN IT SO WITH
PRETTY PEOPLE
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
FOR PERPETUATING SELF-SERVING ABUSE
RAGING BULL ON THE LOOSE
PRETTY IS NO
PRETTY IS NO EXCUSE
poem by Talile Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Realistically, English is a universal language; it's the number one language for music and for communicating with the rest of the world.
quote by Enrique Iglesias
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Remember
I hear the sound of distant guns,
as good lives march away,
to foreign lands to fight and die,
to preserve the rights of freedom,
for those in that distant land,
can have the right to live,
and not under a tyrant’s hand.
They go not as heroes for glory,
but to help innocent souls,
so they can sleep securely at night.
However, the battlefield where they are,
hold allsorts of dangers there,
some will never return safely home.
Their souls will look over
the battlefield where they fell,
possibly wondering at
the folly of it all.
Therefore, the next time you look at,
a monument with columns of names,
remember that their sacrifice
was made not for one, but for all.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Wrote No Poem Today/ I Wrote No Poem Yesterday
I WROTE NO POEM TODAY/ I WROTE NO POEM YESTERDAY
I wrote no poem today-
I wrote no poem yesterday-
Will I write a poem tomorrow?
Perhaps all my lines are done-
And I must live out
The rest of my life
In silence-
God is Great
Am I a small small small voice still?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To John Keats, Poet, At Spring Time
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats;
There never was a spring like this;
It is an echo, that repeats
My last year's song and next year's bliss.
I know, in spite of all men say
Of Beauty, you have felt her most.
Yea, even in your grave her way
Is laid. Poor, troubled, lyric ghost,
Spring never was so fair and dear
As Beauty makes her seem this year.
I cannot hold my peace, John Keats,
I am as helpless in the toil
Of Spring as any lamb that bleats
To feel the solid earth recoil
Beneath his puny legs. Spring beats
her tocsin call to those who love her,
And lo! the dogwood petals cover
Her breast with drifts of snow, and sleek
White gulls fly screaming to her, and hover
About her shoulders, and kiss her cheek,
While white and purple lilacs muster
A strength that bears them to a cluster
Of color and odor; for her sake
All things that slept are now awake.
And you and I, shall we lie still,
John Keats, while Beauty summons us?
Somehow I feel your sensitive will
Is pulsing up some tremulous
Sap road of a maple tree, whose leaves
Grow music as they grow, since your
Wild voice is in them, a harp that grieves
For life that opens death's dark door.
Though dust, your fingers still can push
The Vision Splendid to a birth,
Though now they work as grass in the hush
Of the night on the broad sweet page of the earth.
'John Keats is dead,' they say, but I
Who hear your full insistent cry
In bud and blossom, leaf and tree,
Know John Keats still writes poetry.
And while my head is earthward bowed
To read new life sprung from your shroud,
Folks seeing me must think it strange
That merely spring should so derange
My mind. They do not know that you,
John Keats, keep revel with me, too.
poem by Countee Cullen
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Developments in information technology and globalised media mean that the most powerful military in the history of the world can lose a war, not on the battlefield of dust and blood, but on the battlefield of world opinion.
quote by Timothy Garton Ash
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Also, they don't understand - writing is language. The use of language. The language to create image, the language to create drama. It requires a skill of learning how to use language.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear John
(vocals by john prine)
When i woke up this morning
There was a note upon my door
Saying " don't make me no coffee, babe
Cause i won't be back no more"
And that's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now jonah got along in the belly of a whale
Daniel in the lion's den
I know a guy that didn't try to get along
And he won't get a chance again
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
She didn't forward no address
No she never said goodbye
All she said was "if you get blue
Just hang your little head and cry"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now my gal's short and stubby
She's mean as she can be
If that little old gal of mine
Ever gets a hold of me
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i fetched your saddle home"
Went down to the bank this morning
The cashier said with a grin
I'm sorry for you little john
But your wife has done been in
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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