You know, so I was a weird eccentric kid but I did believe in the power of the word and of the word being made flesh I suppose, which again I suppose came from my temperament as well as my upbringing.
quote by Thomas Keneally
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Word Made Flesh
Suck my breast, I'm the word made flesh
Ain't no rest for the word made flesh
My lips are moving but I hear no sound
It's that same old noise, it's in sensurround
Tune yourself up and count yourself down
Word made flesh, word made flesh
Lord help me rise to this occasion
Word made, word made flesh
I've been toiling so hard in the vineyard
Pay your debts to the word made flesh
East meets west in the word made flesh
I see you talking, but I still can't hear
Like a box of glass blocking off my ears
Turn off the charm and prey on your fears
Brainless pests for the word made flesh
Wall Street desks curse the word made flesh
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'The Word
Word of love and the Word made flesh
Word incarnate forever blessed
Word of life and the Word of light
Word of power and Word of might.
Word that was spoken, Word of the Lord
Word of the Law and the Word of God
Word of peace and Word eternal
Word of truth and last Word of all.
Word of wisdom and the Word of healing
Word from heaven, a Word so appealing
Word fulfilling the Word of prophecy
Word of the Spirit and Word of destiny.
Word of exhortation and Word of grace
Word of encouragement and Word of faith
Word of promise and a Word of insight
Word from the beginning and Word of delight.
Word of knowledge and a Word of boldness
Word of peace and the Word of righteousness
Word of the covenant and Word of love
Word of the Father from heaven above.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Who You Are
Someone's drinking all alone
Someone's left the TV on
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
Someone's sleeping in my bed
Someone's let the genie in
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today
Baby's gone and died again
Taken by the tide again
And it's no surprise
She hates goodbyes
Someone's folding paper planes
Someone's on the line again
Someone's crying at the sonnet
Someone's hiding from someone
I don't suppose, no I don't suppose
You know who you are
Who you are, who you are today
song performed by by Tears For Fears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suppose a smile.
Suppose a smile.
Suppose it always, with a smile.
Suppose the sun to shine,
shine with a smile;
suppose the rain to fall and smile
smile at the earth;
the snow, with gentle smile,
protecting tender shoots;
suppose the wind to smile
mysteriously, about its secretwork;
suppose – that’s easy – flowers
to open with a smile; and
smile as they fade and wave farewell,
a smile that says, that’s how it is…
suppose some patient smiles:
as rain-forests say to those who cut them down,
you’ll live to regret this; here’s
your chance to learn;
suppose the desert sand to smile
and say, you took the trees, and now
I’m here; plant, call down rain, store, irrigate…
suppose the ice-cap, melting with sad smile,
saying, I did not choose…
suppose that Abraham, Moses, Christ, Mohammed
spoke their uncompromising, uncomfortable truths
always with a smile; a gentle smile;
a smile to say, I'm here, you're here to learn...
suppose the spear to smile,
hammered into pruning-hook..
suppose smile met with smile.
Suppose.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LVII: Used
There’s no word ‘used’ with loneliness
There’s no word ‘used’ with boredom
There’s no word ‘used’ with pain
There’s no word ‘used’ with rejection
There’s no word ‘used’ with ignorance
There’s no word ‘used’ with guilty
There’s no word ‘used’ with sacrifice
There’s no word ‘used’ with problem
There’s no word ‘used’ with slavery
There’s no word ‘used’ with piracy
There’s no word ‘used’ with power
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose
Suppose no rose would ever grow again
Suppose no brook would ever flow again
Suppose no star should ever glow again
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose there were no bees or butterflies
Suppose no bird should ever cross the skies
Suppose the sun should never never rise
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
It's impossible to imagine a world without a star
But imagining no you is more impossible, by far
Suppose the Springtime never should arrive
Suppose the tall green trees should not survive
Suppose I had no wish to be alive
Suppose you didn't love me
Suppose you didn't love me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0017 Suppose it said..
Suppose it said – and, yes
it has been said, that
you were made to be
as much the same, as God,
or, The Creator – or
some other word that
means as much – were made to be
as much the same as – That -
as any human being could be; that
this, waits for you; it’s there;
cease to deny that that is so,
and then, it will be so…
suppose you hear it said; and
like the sound of it; then
close your eyes for several seconds
and open them again; but, it’s all
just the same…
suppose that at that point,
you don’t give up, with, as they say,
'a snort of derision'; but close your eyes again,
and think
I don’t remember such a big denial
all at once; how could a child
know what to deny, or why;
deny so vast a thing?
or could it rather be, a history
of many small denials? ah yes,
that seems quite possible – like
all those things that we put to one side
as – so the song goes on – ‘but not for me…’:
some few were overcome – I thought once
that riding a bike was Not For Me;
but thanks to Dad who proved me wrong,
I’ve thousands of miles of the joy of freedom
ticking on the cyclometer…
but yes, there’s much that’s labelled
Not For Me; once, poetry
was labelled, too, so great a thing
but Not For Me..
suppose a life
without self-deprivation
where all these small denials were denied,
whom would I be then? Would I be great
in so many small acceptances,
that all that life might have to offer,
should be myself? Would that be joy?
I think it could be so.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word
Find the word, understand the word,
Depend on the word;
The word is heaven and space, the word the earth,
The word the universe.
The word is in our ears, the word is on our tongues,
The word the idol.
The word is the holy book, the word is harmony,
The word is music.
The word is magic, the word the Guru.
The word is the body, the word is the spirit, the word is being,
The word Not-being.
The word is man, the word is woman,
The Worshipped Great.
The word is the seen and unseen, the word is the existent
And the non-existent.
Know the word, says Kabir,
The word is All-powerful.
Rita Rose
I suppose Rita Rose
Now that you found someone new
I don’t mean anything to you
I suppose Rita Rose
That since I left to fight a war
You don’t need me anymore
I suppose Rita Rose
Now that I’m back again
You want me to forget when
It was me that you chose
Just who are you trying to expose
I suppose Rita Rose
Everybody knows
I ran out on you
I suppose Rita Rose
You’ve already chose
A good alibi too
I suppose Rita Rose
It’s all spelled out in prose
What I’m supposed to do
Well I got news for you
I got feeling too
I’ll just turn around
Both feet on the ground
And walk away from you
poem by Alfred Ramos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Suppose to Be Vain
I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who loves to be on stage.
Because of an exterior presence.
I have been told I am handsome.
So naturally I want the attention.
I am suppose to be vain.
You know...
Someone who speaks, walks
And chew gum at the same time.
With a detectable intelligence too?
Seeking adulation,
That's all I am suppose to do.
I am suppose to be vain.
Because I choose to work hard.
And apply my abilities.
Since I am extremely dedicated,
To my capable creativity.
And it seems I do all of this effortlessly...
I am suppose to be vain!
'WELL...
Are you? '
I am biased!
Not vain.
There is a huge difference between the two.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose There Is a Valid Reason?
Do I forgive those who knowingly deceive?
No!
'Suppose it's their first time?
Suppose there is a valid reason?
Suppose there is a good excuse,
As to why they do it?
Sup...
Hello?
Hello?
You still there?
Can you hear me?
Is anybody there?
Hello...? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Word life
Word word life life
word life life word.
Life has its own word
Word has its own life.
word life life word
Life life word word.
Are you ready to catch
The word in your life?
Has your word the strength
And power the bear the life?
Through the word
Is your life become happy?
Word word life life
Coining of words through life
Is the successful art
That is to cultvate.
You are here
I am here
Words are around us
Go and trace
Go go and crash.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Suppose
Suppose, my dear, that you were I
And by your side your sweetheart sate;
Suppose you noticed by and by
The distance 'twixt you were too great;
Now tell me, dear, what would you do?
I know--and so do you.
And when (so comfortably placed)
Suppose you only grew aware
That that dear, dainty little waist
Of hers looked very lonely there;
Pray tell me sooth--what would you do?
I know, and so do you.
When, having done what I just did
With not a frown to check or chill,
Suppose her red lips seemed to bid
Defiance to your lordly will;
Oh, tell me, sweet, what would you do?
I know, and so do you.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Kissing Oneself
a cat licks its own
paws and
body
self-cleansing
i suppose
the waves of the
sea kiss
its own shores
nature's course
i suppose
a dog chases
its own tail
instincts perhaps
i still suppose so
and when i say
i kiss myself
as you kiss yourself
too
my lips licking my
own palms
your tongue
tasting the salt
in your fingers
nothing narcissistic
i suppose
it is the possibility
when all love fails
self-love
self healing
a way of sensing
the exits
through
the labyrinths
of our illusions
will that be wrong
my friend?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I suppose for whatever reason I actively welcome being put down, something which perhaps goes back to my upbringing - that accusation of not being worthy which could be laid at one's door.
quote by Paul Muldoon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angels
Angels..
do you believe in angels?
do angels believe in you?
which question, the more sensible?
suppose angels
to know greatly more than us..
suppose, that’s why they’re there…
suppose, they know space is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a holy message, wearing whiteness, light,
which would announce them
truthful, good of all good, and beautiful..
suppose, they know time is not fully real:
enter it knowingly, to deliver us
a message that’s eternal, phrased
in terms of human life, direct, immediate;
suppose them, to be untroubled
by human frailty: knowing all
they need to know; messengers
of love beyond all love;
rejoicing in the heavenly joy
of living under perfect law..
suppose… suppose…
that all this living metaphor,
so recognisable to human mind,
lives in each human heart..
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wonders Of Mother Nature
Mother nature
Oh mother nature
How beautiful and lovely you are
With such a tender loving care
Mother Nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
Our dearest mother nature
Our amazing mother nature
Ohh! Mother Nature
If nature allows can I please ask you a question
As a mother
How come you killed your young?
How come you made your fellow mothers cry?
How come you took away their joy?
You took the only thing that made their lives blossom
You suppose to make life beautiful
Mother Nature you suppose build
But how come you destroyed homes
Mother Nature you suppose to make the world a good place to be in
Yet you have turned the world to be a horrible place
Mother Nature as a mother you suppose to warn your young when the go astray
Not to destroy them
Yet you destroyed and killed them
You suppose to symbolize new beginnings and that there’s always hope
Yet you came and shuttled people’s lives and dreams
poem by Vangile Mtyali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cycle of Word
When one word drown, one word will raise
When one word vanished, one word will exist
When one word gone, one word will come
When one word finished, one word will show
When one word flies, nothing can take it back
When you talk, I wait like exiting child
The next word my ears will hear
But you keep silent, wandering in your own dream
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lisette and Eileen
“When he was here alive, Eileen,
There was a word you might have said;
So never mind what I have been,
Or anything,—for you are dead.
“And after this when I am there
Where he is, you’ll be dying still.
Your eyes are dead, and your black hair,—
The rest of you be what it will.
“’Twas all to save him? Never mind,
Eileen. You saved him. You are strong.
I’d hardly wonder if your kind
Paid everything, for you live long.
“You last, I mean. That’s what I mean.
I mean you last as long as lies.
You might have said that word, Eileen,—
And you might have your hair and eyes.
“And what you see might be Lisette,
Instead of this that has no name.
Your silence—I can feel it yet,
Alive and in me, like a flame.
“Where might I be with him to-day,
Could he have known before he heard?
But no—your silence had its way,
Without a weapon or a word.
“Because a word was never told,
I’m going as a worn toy goes.
And you are dead; and you’ll be old;
And I forgive you, I suppose.
“I’ll soon be changing as all do,
To something we have always been;
And you’ll be old.… He liked you, too,
I might have killed you then, Eileen.
“I think he liked as much of you
As had a reason to be seen,—
As much as God made black and blue.
He liked your hair and eyes, Eileen.”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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