I loved to read and to write, but then something happened. As I made my way through school, I kept getting handed books to read that didn't excite me and didn't even remotely connect to the realities of my life.
quote by R.A. Salvatore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faint Of Heart
I wish you could have read
The Letters that I didn’t write
Would’ve liked for you to have heard
Words I didn’t say
I wish you could have felt the touch
Of hands that didn’t reach out at night
Would’ve liked to know
What you didn’t feel…
When you didn’t hear the words…
Words I didn’t say…words I couldn’t write
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Those Mammoth Trilogies
Those mammoth trilogies,
Dramatized to connect...
Similarities between plots and schemes,
As if to sing in three part harmony to excite.
But instead...
Lulls a listener to eventaully nod to sleep.
Would be wonderful to read...
If one did not need a dictionary to understand,
What was meant to impress...
Made less and less sense.
And did not connect on the onset of one's intention.
'So...
Did you read my messages? '
No!
But I did use them to line my trash can.
Thanks!
That was thoughtful of you to send them.
'You really know how to get to the point,
Don't you? '
It is a skill I've developed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Just Do It For the Enjoyment
I hear this all the time:
'Oh?
So you're a writer?
What else do you do?
How much money do you make? '
I write poetry!
'Ooooohhh!
So you like to write 'poooems'?
I use to do that,
When I was in elementary school.
You make money from doing that? '
No.
I just do it for the enjoyment!
'Oh gawd!
You're one of those sentimentalists?
One driven by emotions and unresolved issues?
Confused by life!
And abused by a dysfunctional upbringing.'
I suppose.
But I currently have two books out!
'Nooooo?
But no one's into reading poetry! '
Me either.
I didn't say I read it!
I write it!
'Oh!
Well...
You 'must' be doing it for the money? '
Not yet!
That's next!
'You want me to help you? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet
He — or was it she?
was a child who said little
but walked, endlessly, just looking
or stood still for minutes, hours,
and became what they looked at
was from a large family
but still people said, you’re an only child aren’t you
was it seems very happy in themself
but no-one asked, so never said
kept themself to themself, which annoyed
other children, who bullied them
and then were even more annoyed
when they didn’t play the victim
failed examinations and yet
was always wrapt up in a book
occasionally did things like cutting themselves
and was told off but never questioned usefully
wrote poems secretly but was unconcerned
whether people read them or not
was good to be with as long as you
didn’t expect anything of them
was secretly loved by some
who never liked to say so
because what they loved somehow
didn’t have a name
years later, some of them read the poems
and knew what they had loved
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Field Of Yellow Daisies
We met in a field of yellow daisies
Wild and young and free
And she picked a bouquet for me
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I...she'd go away..yeah
But they didn't say why
Have you ever been in a field of yellow daisies
Where the air is warm, pure and sweet
Just as if the world is at your feet
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeah
But they didn't say why
I may fail like petals from a daisy
But for her love I'll always yearn
Each year when yellow daisies return
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeahhhh
But they didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why.........
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember when I was a kid in school and teachers would explain things to me about what I read, and I'd think, Where did they get that? I didn't read that in there. Later you look at it and think, That's kind of an interesting idea.
quote by Norton Juster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I knew I would read all kinds of books and try to get at what it is that makes good writers good. But I made no promises that I would write books a lot of people would like to read.
quote by Carl Sandburg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I began writing, I didn't read any other children's poets... I didn't want to be influenced until I'd found my own voice. Now I read them all.
quote by Jack Prelutsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I didn't go to high school. I think that after you learn to read and write and do your numbers and flush the toilet behind yourself, you don't need no more schoolin'. You need to get out in the water and swim.
quote by Wilford Brimley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letters I Didn't Write
I wish you could have read…
The Letters
that I failed to write
I wish you could have felt the touch…
Of hands that failed to
reach out at night
Would’ve liked for you
to have heard…
Words I couldn’t say
Would’ve liked to have felt
The emotions missed…
When I failed to ask you to stay
What you didn’t feel…
When you didn’t hear …
The words I didn’t say
I wish you could have
At least…Felt the love
That you didn’t feel that day
I wish you could’ve known …
The feelings
that I didn’t show
The words I couldn’t bring to light
And tell you
Long ago
I wish somehow,
you could know now
Of things you knew not then
Of words I didn’t say or write
Of touch, or love
Of things... that might have been
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Co- Existence
Yes, you’re certainly true
That when you write
I am here to read it through
And really convinced
By what you’ve said
You didn’t demand
Comments or views
‘Cause I can hardly find
Any one or two
I don’t expect
Anything from you
I can live happily
Even if you wouldn’t read mine
But when the time permits
And the season for you is fine
You can explore my page
So that you may read and find
That I created a poem
Just for you poetic man
poem by Rose de Ramar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Will Live as Long as The Sun
In the basement
back by the sliding door
there is a cabinet full of notebooks
don't waste time on a funeral
say a prayer if it helps you
and read my notebooks if you wish to honor me
you are all in there, believe me
when I am in the ground
don't stand and sob at my stone
read my words aloud
read them because I didn't have the courage to
don't speak of my sad fate
you will have me forever
I am in those books
I will live as long as the sun
If you so choose
poem by Stephen Martin II
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I dont like any of them, because they don't read the books. In Kiss Me Deadly my story is better than his story. Anthony Quinn played in The Lond Wait and he didn't read the book either.
quote by Mickey Spillane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winters Over
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Time for some repairs.
Make it even better for the next year.
I must be prepared.
For the harsh realities that bring so much despair.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Stipping off all these cloths.
I was so overloaded.
Like a snake I'm shedding my skin.
Replacing it with something better then.
Putting out my sign soon.
Home made and hand crafted.
So green all I used was my surroundings.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
I made it through.
Another winters over.
She was bitter.
At one point I didn't know if I could make it.
Yet I did.
Still their is no single silver bullet when it comes to life.
No antidote to some difficulties.
Sometimes you must face things headon with a little sweat and hardwork maybe you'll come out on top.
Provide a helping hand to those who still have not.
Just because your better off doesn't mean so is everyone else.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The fate of possession
He cherished holding books.
He bought them to read and hold.
He breathed his last with the faith
That the books would get a fair deal.
The books were sold by weight.
With no eyes, his soul didn’t weep.
31.03.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In School
In school so much go's on
You read
You write
Friends are there to help you make it through
Teachers are there to help you learn
You got books
You got computers
In school
You get away from parents
In school
There are people that understand you
There are people that hate you
There are people that look up to you
In school
There are bad lunches
There are packed halls
There are smelly locker rooms
All in school
poem by Sally Minns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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~ O' Poetry I Read I Write ~
~ O' POETRY I READ I WRITE ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 December,2009.
Poetry ~
I read I read I read
Without asking,
Knowing why?
Poetry ~
I write I write I write
Without asking,
Knowing why?
O' Poetry ~
Read n’ write
To share
Dare n’ bare,
Don’t care
Love to dye
By
Hi and fie.
.
O' Poetry ~
Life I buy
Never sell bye bye
All I’ll do until I die
Lo! I’m no hi-fi.
----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Hell
You live by the book of wonders,
The book has hell on it when opened.
The inferno carries pits too grilling,
The grills are offered by devils,
Contagious diseases are handed over
To the body and bones, full of hatred.
A hell of books is opened by the librarian,
You choose a simple verb to read,
Then this verb is read, the verb that signals death.
Your death must never come by reading books,
Long scrolls so wonderful,
Of books the world is made
And the reason for books is reading,
Not living in Hell.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mama's Legacy
MAMA'S LEGACY
When I was just a little girl
I lay in Mama's bed
To listen to the fairy tales
From the little books she read.
Of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs
Cinderella and her Prince
Of Rumplestiltskin-Puss 'N Boots
And Aladdin and his tents.
I couldn't get enough of them
I'd ask her every night
But sleep would always conquer me
No matter how I'd fight.
I'd recite the words along with her
I knew them all by heart
She'd read to me from anything
Some knowledge to impart.
She taught me about the world around
From books she read aloud
She made my life worth living
And made me live it proud.
When I had children of my own
I read from those same books
To teach my children that in this life
You need brains, not just good looks.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
Ms. Caroline
© 2006 Ms. Caroline (All rights reserved)
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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