Every author really wants to have letters printed in the papers. Unable to make the grade, he drops down a rung of the ladder and writes novels.
quote by P.G. Wodehouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Ladder Rung One
Ladder Rung One
Ladder Rung One
Tom Thumb and Thumbelina and baby thumbnail
Tom is starting now to speak:
“listen to me Thumbelina baby {thumbnail} ewe listen tewe
This old world has got me hypnotized and they stuck me on the bottom rung”
Thumbelina answers him:
“Tom my husband please do not speak so rough in front of the thumbnail baby she does not need to knoe about the way of the world she is just a baby not yet in collage…
Baby thumbnail is speaking baby talk in gibberish:
“The world is mye oyster and eye am gonna shuck it
Gonna learn to drive and gonna learn to party.
Narrator me:
Listen to me baby the old man still loves ewe the father of the daughter and the mother she adores ewe and the author of the poem. The ladder it is steep and hard to climb them all the steps are hard please stay upon the bottom rung.
poem by Charles Hice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jacobs Ladder
I met a fan dancer
Down in south side birmingham
She was running from a fat man
Selling salvation in his hand
Now hes trying to save me
Well Im doing alright the best that I can
Just another fallen angel
Trying to get through the night
Step by step, one by one, higher and higher
Step by step, rung by rung climbing jacobs ladder
Coming over the airwaves
The man says Im overdue
Sing along, send some money
Join the chosen few
Well mister Im not in a hurry
And I dont want to be like you
And all I want from tomorrow
Is to get it better than today
Step by step, one by one, higher and higher
Step by step, rung by rung climbing jacobs ladder
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not All The Angels Of The Lord Are On The Highest Rung
Not all the angels of the Lord are on the highest rung-
I ascended on the ladder
But have not touched the top rung
And will not -
An angel of the middle and the bottom rows
I nonetheless sing out my praises to God -
While trying to climb higher,
Yet somewhere always
no matter how high I think I come
never touching the top rung.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A story is a letter that the author writes to himself, to tell himself things that he would be unable to discover otherwise.
Carlos Ruiz Zafon in The Shadow of the Wind (2001)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Collages
When my third grade teacher
taught me how to make collages
by cutting figures from magazines
and pasting them on chart papers,
I never bothered to learn
as I found it too useless to be.
Now in Life when I see Men
cut and paste friends and
relatives, according to
their needs and I, unable
to do either, realize, my teacher
was teaching life to me.
poem by Pradeep Dhavakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In this industry, there are only two ways up the ladder. Rung by rung or claw your way to the top. It's sure been tough on my nails.
quote by Jack Nicholson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ladder To The Sun
From the very start
Came Earth parted
Broke up into pieces and
I was sure I could have missed it
It could risked it
But I put myself into your hands
Cause you're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
You're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
I can run my courses
Opposing forces
Then I...
If you want me you can have me
Oh take me, oh baby grab me
Cause if you want me then you can have me
Cause you're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
You're not just anyone
You're a ladder to the sun
you cannot run
I had it all and I risked it
I had it all and I risked it all
And I risked it all
And I risked it all
A ladder to the
A Ladder to the sun
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
And I risked it all
A ladder to the
A ladder to the sun
And I risked it all
I risked it all
I had it all
I risked it all
A ladder to the sun
song performed by by Coldplay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Letters
Red letters
Cut deep
Soothe the pain inside.
Red letters
Bold and loud
Scream silently.
Red letters
Secret and hidden
But a cry for help.
Red letters -
A way to deal with this pain.
As I cut these words into my skin
I remember seeing red words somewhere before
Then it hits me like a lightning bolt -
Words of Jesus are printed in red. Words of Christ in red.
Red letters
Real truth, piercing deep
Soothes my pain inside.
Red letters
Your passion, Your blood
Covers me.
Red letters
Hope and life
I cry, 'Fill me! '
Red letters -
You were pierced and bloody
So I wouldn't have to be.
'What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
Oh! precious is the flow that makes me white as snow!
No other fount I know -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus! '
Red letters... Nothing but the blood -
Red letters... Nothing but the blood of Jesus!
poem by Zoe MacRae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CX: Ability
It’s not unable, it’s just not a favor
It’s not unable, it’s just reluctance
It’s not unable, it’s just not my style
It’s not unable, it’s just wrong
It’s not unable, it’s just no time
It’s not unable, it’s just out of place
It’s not unable, it’s just not consideration
It’s not unable, it’s just objection
It’s not unable, it’s just not effective
It’s not unable, it’s just stubbornness
It’s not unable, it’s just not important
It’s not unable, it’s just mercy
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
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(Lyric) Setting Papers On Fire...
Remember that old fire place
we sat in front of
talking girl and taking
time out to make love
well that fire place and me
we're still keeping company
but lately my desire
is setting papers on fire..
i've been burning up pictures
old cards and letters too
don't need reminders
to remind me of you
I used to want to keep
the memory of loving you
but lately my desire's
setting papers on fire..
remember that old bathtub
we bought at a sale?
sure held a lot of water
oh, the tales that it could tell
well i busted it to pieces
and i put a hot tub there
been getting rid of memories
girl they was every where
I've been burning up old pictures
old cards and letters too
don't need reminders
to remind me of you
i used to want to keep
those memories of loving you
but lately my desires's setting papers on fire...
lately my desire's
setting papers on fire...
poem by Connetta Jean
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This Town
I could be anywhere else but here
But the rain wont let me go.
Theres a photograph
Hanging on my wall
Of a place Ive never been to...
Ill never make the grade
(feels like sunday everyday)
And I cant stop the rain
(feels like sunday everyday)
What do the papers say?
(feels like sunday everyday)
Get up and go now!
In this town - somethings gotta change.
In this town - somethings gotta change.
Im looking at the world -
Looking for a scene -
Waiting for a day -
Filling in time like Im digging
My own grave...
Ill never make the grade
(feels like sunday everyday)
And I cant stop the rain
(feels like sunday everyday)
What do the papers say?
(feels like sunday everyday)
Get up and go now!
(chorus repeats...)
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you're climbing the ladder of life, you go rung by rung, one step at a time. Don't look too far up, set your goals high but take one step at a time. Sometimes you don't think you're progressing until you step back and see how high you've really gone.
quote by Donny Osmond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the ladder to success there is always somebody on the rung above you and who uses your head to steady himself.
Sex is. There is nothing more to be done about it. Sex builds no roads, writes no novels and sex certainly gives no meaning to anything in life but itself.
quote by Gore Vidal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Words To Be Written
Words can be said, they can be written
they can be funny or sad or informed
words are sought after by everyone
papers, scripts, books, letters or texts
they can gossip, tattle or lie
honest, trust worthy, confusing
written to story or rhyme to rhythm
they can be found in our minds
written or printed they are strong
brought together the bring magic
imaginations, fantasy, real life
many stories and songs by words
have touched the soul with in
my words are to enlighten and entertain your mind
to put you in places we never dreamed
and to think I could of done that
my words to you is my soul to share
written with love, hate and sorrow
take the time to enjoy the words
words make ours dreams come true
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The mathematician has reached the highest rung on the ladder of human thought.
quote by Henry Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poetic Something
I think I am a poet
therefore I'm lying to myself
in just a line I saw it
just lying on the shelf
I reached for it
It moved out of reach
those words I knew
those words my mind grew
Unable to jot down
a mute to speak out
unable, unable it rocks
strange sounds, broken cradle
stop rocking, its unstable
now across the dinner table
I see it, I saw it
should I move towards it?
Turn back, just ignore it
now it follows
astounding, I have no use for it
it gives permission for those words
it writes, it reads ‘Hi'
Oh you got to be kidding
poem by Kelvin Owusu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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But novels are never about what they are about; that is, there is always deeper, or more general, significance. The author may not be aware of this till she is pretty far along with it.
quote by Diane Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Comfort of Obscurity
INSPIRED BY READING MR. KIPLING'S POEMS AS
PRINTED IN THE NEW YORK PAPERS
Though earnest and industrious,
I still am unillustrious;
No papers empty purses
Printing verses
Such as mine.
No lack of fame is chronicker
Than that about my monicker;
My verse is never cabled
At a fabled
Rate per line.
Still though the Halls
Of Literature are closed
To me a bard obscure I
Have a consolation The
Copyreaders crude and rough
Can't monkey with my
Humble stuff and change MY
Punctuation.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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