All writers - all people - have their stores of private and family legends which lie like a collection of half-forgotten, often violent toys on the floor of memory.
quote by V.S. Pritchett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All our yesterdays
Dusty shelves within our minds
Dark labyrinth of passageways
Memories stored like aging wine
Where we keep… all our yesterdays
Moments… treasured, … forgotten pleasures
snugly tucked, in private places
Daydream fodder, and even odder
Private portfolio Of forgotten faces
Far off look…into empty spaces
Seeing sights of other days
Tasting memory’s wine, of other places
Divinely, takes your breath away.
Shadow dancers on the wall
memory’s vault in which they lay
Private…inviolate… memory hall
Where are kept… all our yesterdays
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tumbleweed Chalet.
There it was
A parafin coloured shack
All locked up and black.
Hidden amongst the trees.
A sort of don`t you see me.
But the river gave it
A mild reflection
And the fishermen
Were half-dozing
In the midday sun.
It`s the son of
Tumbleweed chalet.
Just like the old days.
I dreamt i was
A cowboy
Leaning on it`s broadwalk
Further on i went
Into the weeds.
Half a dozen ghost towns`
Strangled and forgotten please.
By council demand-
This land is private!
My feet fell through
Fallen canvas ceilings,
That lay upon the floor.
It`s the son
Of a tumbleweed chalet,
And maybe i am the valet
Or the wild cat
That darts in and out.
Half a broken gate
Leads to another
Ruin innate.
Punctured mattresses,
Cracked glass,
Daubed walls,
Turned over tables.
By council demand-
This land is private
And overrun!
poem by Peter Vealey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You know, we're very private, and I think that we really separate and try to keep our privacy to ourselves. There's things that people assume a lot of times, and we understand that people are interested, but we really try to keep our family life private as much as we can.
quote by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Within Cliques of Gossips
There are those programmed and convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
But when asked, none had close talks...
With the one claimed known.
And the one claimed known...
Had not a clue as to what was going on.
Other than the usual assumptions that take place,
Within cliques of gossips.
There are those who have created,
Lifestyles of others in their minds.
With sexual preferences believed known discussed.
With the goings on in the privacy of their homes,
And with whom they lust.
There are those programmed and self convinced...
People they assumed they knew,
With conversations had with others...
Family, friends and a collection of a chosen few,
Were people that they knew.
Until they got the opportunity to meet them.
And then became quite upset...
That those they met,
Were quite different...
Than the people they had kept in their minds.
Only to find themselves,
Living too confined and behind fast times.
To leave a narrow perception of life,
Left to go unaddressed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Private Life
This is my private life
I have no friends to fear
Ive got no problems no cross to bear
If you can find me
Come and get me out of here
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life . . .
These are my private things
There they are against the wall
The dirty pictures, religious objects
These are my private things
Come and get them out of here
This is my private bed
This is where I lie at night
Staring at a light bulb hanging on the ceiling
Waiting for a dream to
Come and get me out of here
Bridge
Here in my humble room at night
I often wonder what goes on out there
What makes them runs o scared
I often stare at the people passing by
But they cant see me thru my window shades
Just like Im not even there
Chorus
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Theres something dangerous I like
This is my private life
I know my problems arent your fault
What I really want to know
Has it always been this way
This is my private life
This is my private life
This is my private life
Come and get me out of here
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Man With All The Toys
Hes the man with all the toys
Someone found a lighted house late one night
And he saw through the window a sight
A big man in a chair
And little tiny men everywhere
Hes the man with all the toys
Well how thrilled that someone must have been
And he must have been tempted to go in
He stayed out in the cold
And when he left them he told
About the man with all the toys
Hes the man with all the toys
The man with all the toys
Hes the man with all the toys
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Unregained
I'm not remembering her;
chancing to meet.
we greet
synchronizing expressions
trying to collect
memory bits from the past
as to place
and circumstance.
The Universe between
the Not-Remembered and the Half-Forgotten,
is not joy, not pain,
not past, not present;
this is a small-talk world;
agenda-less.
We talk-
minutes going on-
both hoping
for memory to lurch
to the surface from our past
to penetrate to consciousness.
She, is someone I should know;
an old girl-friend or lover-foe?
Someone who loved me;
perhaps someone I had harmed?
Fumbling, I feint memory
hoping she’ll reveal who
I am
to her
and what had been
between she and I
and our last remembrances.
But she's neutral, not revealing much-
My blank stare frozen; still;
barriered from my own past.
I'm bereft
of attitude or anchoring,
and step away from this personal void;
memorylessness weakens me;
My tree has no branches.
But I see she knows now;
and I don't;
she in that instant
hides my own past from me
giving me no hint
as narrow-eyed we both squint
in morning light.
Now for me
the first memory bit
comes and then more of them;
ignited by her sad eyes.
I am to her the Forgiven One,
the one who did not love her
as she had loved me;
the one who loved not.
I am the Forgiven One
who had walked away
not seeing
the kindness she'd given me
of receiving from her love
that asked for nothing.
Sad are the eyes that remind
the Other was the person
who loved best.
Sad is the deadening spirit
of unrequited love's extent.
She said:
'You were loved far more
than you were able to give
and gifted
with more than you offered back.'
Piled high in her eyes
were all my regrets
un-intoned;
her love spilled by me
onto the Forgotten Floor.
After that time
I had taken her gift
and gave it to my next lover-
my atonement.
And she, too, similarly
had given me love that
she had deprived
from her previous lover.
We both walked away.
Sideswiped
by the Half-Forgotten and
the Unregained.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Apparently the new high-tech Star Wars toys will be in stores any day now. The toys can talk and are interactive, so they can be easily distinguished from Star Wars fans.
quote by Conan O'Brien
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is not a family
This is not a family...
No not to me... a family is people who are there for you they are the people that you trust to make sure your okay they are the people that believe in you and they are the people who will never lie to you and always be honest
This is not a family...
For a family its pretty sad to think we treat one another as nothing talk to eachother as if we dont care for one another and backstab and walk on one another because we can
This is not a family...
I use to think i had it good till i grew up and relized family shouldnt bring eachother down... family shouldnt make you cry... family shouldnt make you think you will be nothing and stay nothing for....
This is not a family...
Instead its just a sad excuse of people who put up with eachother not because they want to but because they have to... for this family that i have i hope that all of you will soon relize before its too late that i love my family... and i believe in my family... and that even though my household is not right at all... i know that i will become something... not because you make me think i cant... its because i believe in myself and with that i know i will someday do great things...
FOR this is not a family...
but it is my family
poem by Andrea Thanasas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We must remember that North Carolina is more than a collection of regions and people. We are one state, one people, one family, bound by a common concern for each other.
quote by Michael F. Easley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some material things make my life more enjoyable; many, however, would not. I like having an expensive private plane, but owning a half-dozen homes would be a burden. Too often, a vast collection of possessions ends up possessing its owner. The asset I most value, aside from health, is interesting, diverse, and long-standing friends.
quote by Warren Buffett
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Chronicles of Acid Part 2 Forgotten
Such a condemning word
People in herds use it all day
That is why I must say
My rhyme
Forgotten truly means so more much more
It means you've become one to abhor
It means you're not worth remembering
It means you're not worth loving
It means that you'll just fade when you die
Whether or not you do good and help your friends tie
Their ends and make them meet
With loss of memory they'll greet
You as a stranger
You who loved her
Because you're forgotten
Not remembered
Doesn't matter if you surrendered
And gave them everything, because now you're just a pen
Now you're just these words, just the memories you hold
The stories you told
Because all their memory of you
Is 'who? '
Cause now you're forgotten and that's even worse then 'Not Knowing'
poem by David Knox
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Good Family
When you see a man behaving well
People are curious to know his family
When a naughty interacts
His source is easily identified
Good family is a big attractive tree
That offers shade in rain and heat
Good family bears good branches
That produces good fruits
Good family has its firm roots
Which nourishes and beautifies
Good family gives birth to good nations
In peace, good family is there
In war, good family endures
Good family wipes away tears and sorrows
Loneliness is absent with good family
Security is guaranteed with nice family
He who has a good family
Is half done in life
See a man dancing on the street
No need to ask if his family is okay
If you have a good family
Sacrificially hold on to it
Never allowed it to crack
Pass the baton to others
To enable the world get better.
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Upon the Silent Woman
Hear, you bad writers, and though you not see,
I will inform you where you happy be:
Provide the most malicious thoughts you can,
And bend them all against some private man,
To bring him, not his vices, on the stage;
Your envy shall be clad in some poor rage,
And your expressing of him shall be such,
That he himself shall think he hath no touch.
Where he that strongly writes, although he mean
To scourge but vices in a laboured scene,
Yet private faults shall be so well express'd
As men do get 'em, that each private breast,
That finds these errors in itself, shall say,
'He meant me, not my vices, in the play.'
poem by Francis Beaumont
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Four Main Types of Writers (personal opinion)
The Lonely Writer
Some writings tell me
This person is lonely
And is reaching out
For the touch of a friendly comment
These writers are sad, solitary,
Isolated, but good persons
And quite often very good writers
The needy juvenile writer
Some writings contain words
Or language meant to shock
And to offend.
These writers are lonely also
But in a different way.
These writers are simply saying
Like a little child
“hey! I exist! Someone better
Acknowledge me! ”
These writers can often write well
But usually don’t, can’t, or choose not to
The Spite Writer
This writer can be of either gender
But seems to be in a female majority
They’ve been spurned or rejected
Two-timed or lied to.
And they are going to vent their ire
In the most public way they can.
These writers can also be very good writers
But too often let their anger get in the way.
The Religious Writer
These writers show people passionate
And zealously devoted to singing the praises
Of the Lord and goodness and charity.
They’re probably austere, honest people
Who almost always write very well.
For the most part these writers seem
To want to spread the word and
At the same time tend to be rather singular
In the subject matter of their writings,
Rarely attempting other genres.
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Throw My Toys Around
Ive got no time for fairy stories
Im not a little girl
So you can leave me all alone
And turn off the lights as well
If you are frightened
Then listen
But I dont think youd like it
Such a nice kid
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Somebodys being very bad
I wonder who it can be
Somebodys gonna get in trouble
I know it isnt me
Im just a little angel
But you dont know what Ive done
When your backs turned
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Pick up those building blocks
Chop off the babys locks
Swing dolly by the hair
Put down that teddy bear
Slam dunk a happy clown
I throw my toys around
Ive got no time for bedtime stories
Im not a little child
Everything makes me furious
And everything makes me wild
If you are frightened then whistle
And Ill come running you
As you boo hoo
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
Nobodys looking now
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
Ill throw my toys around
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll Throw My Toys Around
by No Doubt feat. Elvis Costello
Gwen Stefani - Elvis Costello - Gwen Stefani & Elvis Costello
I've got no time for fairy stories
I'm not a little girl
So you can leave me all alone
And turn off the lights as well
If you were frightened then listen
But I don't think you would like it
Such a nice kid
Nobody's looking now (Nobody's looking)
I throw my toys around
Somebody's being very bad
I wonder who it could be
Somebody's going to get in trouble
I know it isn't me
I'm just a little angel
But you don't know what I've done
When your backs turned
Nobody's looking now (Nobody's looking)
I throw my toys around
Pick up those building blocks
Chop off my baby's locks
Swing dolly by her hair
Put down that teddy bear
Slam dunk a happy clown
I throw my toys around
I've got no time for bedtime stories
I'm not a little child
Everything makes me furious
And everything makes me wild
If you are frightened
Then whistle and I'll come running to you
As you boo hoo
Nobody's looking now (Nobody's looking)
I throw my toys around
Nobody's looking now (Nobody's looking)
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
I throw my toys around
song performed by by No Doubt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hold Hands
lovers have forgotten
how to hold hands...
and children have forgotten
the wonder of being outside.
workers have forgotten
how it feels to be appreciated.
old people have forgotten
how it feels to be needed.
everyday people have forgotten
how it feels to grow their own food.
students have forgotten
the joy of learning...
the American people have forgotten
how it feels to believe...
in equality, dignity, and hope...
how it feels to hold hands!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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