An Self Injection.
The creation of such a beautiful landscape.
And to place yourself within isn't that hard.
With a pen I tell you a story of a character of which I am.
But is it all make believe and pretend?
In good fiction their must be truth.
Clues litter the pages.
A question of who you are.
The answer can't be that far, that distant.
How could one ever have missed it.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
My Question for M lady Fay
There is a question I must pose
In the vain hope that someone knows
Who’s willing to enlighten me.
Before my birth where would I be
This question always puzzles me
and when I die where do I go.
I have asked priests who hesitate
to answer me, they vacillate.
Because in truth they do not know.
They quote their Holy Book to me
But I have looked and cannot see.
The answer that I seek to find.
Why is it that they pretend to know
from whence I came and where I go.
And yet they will not answer me.
My question is a simple one
I make it clear to everyone.
But no one seems to understand.
The truth is what I seek to know
From whence I came where do I go.
Will somebody please answer me.
20-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anna Questions Razel puppet
Anna Likes Razel puppet
who has no pupils in her dark eyes
Razel has dark hair and can turn dolls to ice.
Anna is happy to see me and play pretend games
Anna waited for me and Razel puppet to play.
Once play acting Anna would change Razel's name
to a character in her fantasy game.
Anna was the director and would tell Razel what to say
Razel would be instructed to use certain powers
to overcome the villain of the day.
We would act out her Pokeman character
and then we would stop playing for a while-
Anna would ask Razel questions like
'Razel why don't you smile? '
Even Razel puppet was amazed-
as Anna asked questions with a inquisitive gaze.
Another questions Anna asked is-
'Razel why don't you like Birthdays? '
Razel of course replied a sqinting evil eye-
I'm sorry to say, because my mother died.
She died on my birthday when I was a little girl
it changed the way I thought about birthdays
in my world.'
Of course every villain has a back story
Razel puppet's is drama filled not gory.
Then we would go to the outside playground
where play equipment was all around.
Anna asked me to talk Razel
with Razel not on my hand
I said I couldn't but now today I can.
Razel says 'Hi, Anna how have you been?
It was fun playing with you in 'let's pretend'
I am still an evil puppet, but that's what I want to be-
There would be no interesting story to act out for you & me.
The story would be boring if you didn't have to find interesting clues-
Clues to unfreeze the missing character friend who I turned blue.
Where do we find them and what really happened-
are questions asked in this land of pretend.
'So Thank You Anna for finding me interesting-
and playing pretend once so long ago with me.'
Written By Suzae Chevalier on February 21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I could write historical fiction, or science fiction, or a mystery but since I find it fascinating to research the clues of some little know period and develop a story based on that, I will probably continue to do it.
quote by Jean M. Auel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Ending Story Theme Song
Search around, look at what you see,
In her face, the mirror of your dreams,
Make believe I'm everywhere, hidden in the lines
Written on the pages is the answer to our neverending story
Neverending story
Reach the stars, and fly a fantasy,
Dream a dream, and what you see will be,
Lives that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon the rainbow is the answer to our neverending story
Neverending story
Story
Neverending story
Show no fear, for she may fade away,
In your hand, the birth of a new day,
Lives that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon the rainbow is the answer to our neverending story
(3x)
Neverending story
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No one of good character leaves behind a wasted life — whether they die in obscurity or renown. "Character," wrote the 19th Century evangelist, Dwight Moody, "is what you are in the dark." Your character is not tested on occasions of public scrutiny or acclaim. It is not tested in moments when the object of your actions is the regard of another. Your character is what you are to yourself, not what you pretend to be to yourself or others. Although human beings often attempt self-delusion, we cannot forever hide the truth about ourselves from ourselves. It will make itself known to us by means of our conscience despite our most strenuous effort to suppress it.
quote by John McCain
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Admit the truth
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me, to my straight question.
At what time that day did you bring
Your wife from her bosses flat?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
At what home did you get your maid
Aborted and at what cost to save your pride?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
How many son-in-laws did you change
Before you set her in a wealthy lord?
Tell me the truth once in your life
Before you die a death of beach,
Having built your fort on illicit bricks.
Admit the truth at least only once.
20.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Telling Stories
There is fiction in the space between
The lines on your page of memories
Write it down but it doesnt mean
Youre not just telling stories
There is fiction in the space between
You and me
There is fiction in the space between
You and reality
You will do and say anything
To make your everyday life
Seem less mundane
There is fiction in the space between
You and me
Theres a science fiction in the space between
You and me
A fabrication of a grand scheme
Where I am the scary monster
I eat the city and as I leave the scene
In my spaceship I am laughing
In your remembrance of your bad dream
Theres no one but you standing
Leave the pity and the blame
For the ones who do not speak
You write the words to get respect and compassion
And for posterity
You write the words and make believe
There is truth in the space between
There is fiction in the space between
You and everybody
Give us all what we need
Give us one more sad sordid story
But in the fiction of the space between
Sometimes a lie is the best thing
Sometimes a lie is the best thing
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Ending Story Theme
Turn around, look at what you see, yeah-eh
in her face, the mirror of your dreams, who-oh
Make believe I'm everywhere, hidden in the lines
written on the pages
is the answer to a neverending story, neverending story-eeh
Reach the stars, fly a fantasy
dream a dream, and what you see will be-eh, yeah, yeah, yeah-eh
Rhymes that keep their secrets, will unfold behind the clouds
and there upon the rainbow is the answer to a neverending story-eeh
neverending story-eeh
story-eeh
neverending story-eeh
Show no fear, for she may fade away, yeah-eh
In your hand, the birth of the new day-hee, yeah, yeah, yeah-eh
Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds
and there upon the rainbow is the answer to a...Neverending story! oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, woo-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, wo-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
Neverending story, Who-owo-oho-wo-oho-wo
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth must necessarily be stranger than fiction for fiction is the creation of the human mind and therefore congenial to it.
quote by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Luck Story
Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Cause I dont love the man
Dont ask me for my favours
I wont lend a hand
And if I had real power
Then I could disappear
Wouldnt have to be around you
Id sink into the atmosphere
Then I wouldnt hear
Your hard luck story
Its a hard luck, a hard luck story
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
For he is underhand
I can tell he is a woman hater
And he is a nasty man
Within reach lies all desire
For each and every soul
Stripped bare and stretching higher
You fall into the last balck hole
To end your hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
Ive never met the man
I only meet weekend preachers
Pictures of the promised land
All the new holy saviours
Who pretend to understand
Who do you think will save you
Modern day beggar man
Such a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its such a hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
He picked his time to leave us
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck story
Hard luck story
song performed by by Men At Work
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What's most interesting and most real to me in my work is to never make the role a complete character, because then you lose a part of the truth. I can't say that this person is just like this or like that. Because you can never do that with real people in real life, so if you try that on stage you lose the truth. Since I myself strive to be able to be a great many things, I also want my character to have that very same liberty. Eventually in that way it will add to a sort of completeness. But it is the story that is told that is the interesting thing and the situations the character is in. And as we humans always are shaped by a special situation or given circumstances, I can never ever say: Thus is my character.
quote by Lena Olin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Elsa And Joan
Elsa and Joan were truthful girls,
But just for fun they lied only once - on their day of birth.
On the 6th of April someone asked them:
When is your birthday?
Elsa used to say: It was yesterday.
Joan used to say: It will be tomorrow.
I will meet my dearest fellow.
The next day they were asked the same question.
And…the answer was just the same.
I don’t want anyone to blame.
But…. what is your suggestion?
When were they born?
Here I would like everyone to warn:
Getting the wrong answer
I will know for sure that….
You are a romancer.
If your answer is right
I will know that you like to fight,
You are very good in logic,
And… are very found to risk.
Your character is Nordic,
You are not psychic
And ….like to relax
And… have a beautiful sex.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 27th of December,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never Ending Story
Turn around
Look at what you see (yeah)
In her face
The mirror of your dreams (whoa)
Make believe Im everywhere
Hidden in the lines
Written on the pages
Is the answer to a never ending story
Never ending story
Reach the stars
And fly a fantasy (yeah)
Dream a dream
And what you see will be (yeah yeah yeah)
Rhymes that keep their secrets
Will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon the rainbow
Is the answer to a never ending story
Never ending story
Story...
Never ending story
(go!)
Show no fear
For she may fade away (yeah)
In your hands
The birth of the new day (yeah yeah yeah)
Rhymes that keep their secrets
Will unfold behind the clouds
And there upon a rainbow
Is the answer to a....
Never ending story... (whoa whoa whoa) (x4)
song performed by by New Found Glory
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please, Trust Me..
The earth trusts the sun,
The moon trusts the earth,
I trust you,
for me to revolve around you.
Unseen waves that attract,
make the solar system intact.
Unseen bonds that attract,
make the human love intact.
Mistakes could have been made,
Fights could have been enacted,
Silence could have been kept,
The love will overcome all odds.
Look for clues may weaken our hearts,
clues of betrayal and infidelity,
Look for clues may strengthen our life,
clues of sincerity and confidence.
No flowers needed, but need a helping hand,
No chocolates needed, but need sweet words,
No pretend needed, but need a friendly heart,
Not one day just enough, but need a life of full of love.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crazy Amanda
don't know what you really got
It's hard to stay and not pretend
Can't make sense to what you got
Seems i can't comprehend
Well im happy to be, only all that you see
And im not one to learn to be the same
I dn't want to hear you bitch no more
I was better off a year before
No matter how i try i can't ignore
But everytime i think my brain gets sore
When i'm with you
What's so hard about good-byes
Im sorry im just not as keen
Im planning out a perfect life
When i'm only 19
Cause im happy to be only all that you see
And i'm not one to learn to be the same
I don't want to try to just be freinds
Nothin's gonna change my mind again
If ever i had toughts they would be dead
I can't even think inside my head
When i'm with you
I'm on my way, can't you see that's the truth
So long, i can't stay, can't you see that's the truth
I'm on my way, can't you see that's the truth
So long, i can't stay, can't you see that's the truth
See that's the, see that's the...
Last that i can take
Because it's getting really hard to fake
It's not like it's my problem that your late
Why can't you just spare the lies i hate
When i'm with you
song performed by by Sum 41
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teacher as healer: an observation
Even before the question put,
they’re full of quiet attention; something
is already being listened to.. makes
that space, in which a question
may be floated on the air..
tentatively perhaps, or self-concerned,
the question’s put; and listened to;
perhaps with gentle nod of head;
a keen attention; even a half-smile:
you and they are meeting now
in the fullness of the heart, in
a place that’s fully shared:
the teacher, almost eager, so it seems,
to hear more of your truth;
to hear the truth of you.
And as the question nears its end,
the answer floats upon the air
as if it and the question are but one;
the answer gently given, as if
already shared; not given,
not received; but already shared;
(and I saw: each time they said
the words ‘it is’, their spine
relaxed into a greater straightness..)
Who can describe that unity of mind -
as joy in stillness; or the bliss of peace?
Somewhere in the world of name and form,
something has been healed;
wholeness has returned to wholeness;
perfection taken, and returned;
the teacher, too, is still;
gifts of grace have been exchanged.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bookworm
This alien land is made of paper
Its pages stay firmly stuck together
Until this foreign creature slides them apart
She ruins their land like she has no heart
In these pages there are symbols
For the educated, they are tools
At a fast pace, the creature drinks them down
It was amazing that she didn’t drown
The symbols tell a story, only the creature knows
In them she escapes all of her foes
It is joyful to roll in the words
To fly through them just like birds
She squiggles on her stomach,
The world only sees her back
She enjoys being so low down
The story will never make her frown
In the narrative she worms
In its pleasure she squirms
In the fiction words she’s lain
The bookworm is back again
poem by Lenore Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's All Understood
Everyone laughed at her joke
As if they'd never even heard it before
And maybe they were truly amused
But every word that she spoke was a bore
And maybe it's because they had seen
The previews on the TV screen
Well this part is good and that's well understood
So you should laugh if you know what I mean
But it's all relative
Even if you don't understand
Well it's all understood
Especially when you don't understand
Then it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
Everyone knows what went down
Because the news was spread all over town
And fact is only what you believe
And fact and fiction work as a team
It's almost always fiction in the end
That content begins to bend
When context is never the same
And it's all relative
Even if we don't understand
And it's all understood
Especially when we don't understand
Then it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
I was reading a book
Or maybe it was a magazine
Suggestions on where to place faith
Suggestions on what to believe
But I read somewhere
That you've got to beware
You can't believe anything you read
But the good Book is good
And it's all understood
So don't even question
If you know what I mean
But it's all relative
Even if you don't understand
Well it's all understood
Especially when you don't understand
And it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
But there you go once again
You missed the point and then you point
Your fingers at me
And say that I said not to believe
I believe
I guess
I guess it's all relative
song performed by by Jack Johnson from Brushfire Fairytales
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She of the Heavenly Happiness
No-one knew what subsequently became of her
after he went so dramatically, and after all those goings-on.
He got all the headlines.
The police didn't even bother
to take her in for questioning.
There was talk of riots,
they needed every spare man.
But the story never quite went away.
You know how it is with journalists -
we file it away for a rainy day,
then it sticks in our mind
for when we retire and write a best-seller, I wish...
I doubt we'll ever know the truth of it;
but every now and then
some nutter with a convincing sighting
makes a free gift to journalists
with no personal responsibility for us either.
France, Spain, Italy, gipsy communities -
you name it, they know her
except she was never there that day.
The story among her friends is
that she went on a long Mediterranean cruise
with two other ladies.
Yet there's no account of their returning
and there are stories that they all separated
and took up new careers in foreign places
where they acquired new names, locally
so the trail's gone cold.
But stories like his, and hers,
and whether they - well, you know -
never quite go away
and the part she played
though brief, sure was dramatic, so
it's made her a role model for those women -
and there have been many over the years -
whose lives have taken a turn for the worse
(no man can know what it's like
for a woman to hav e to sell herself)
and who see in her story
a hope of life's big U-turn
and all that we really hope for.
God knows we all need one.
Could be a Lloyd-Webber musical,
come to think of it.
After all, she was there
at one of the world's big events
- that most of the media
strangely missed...
Maddalena - it's a beautiful name
in Italian.
And then there's that delicate cake
that Proust dipped in his tea.
There's a place in Italy
where they take her story very seriously,
because some local writer
turned it into a classic of hope for the socially rejected;
a rather 19th century theme.
The critics panned it; but does it matter
whether it's truth or fiction,
if it goes so deep, that it's true in a different sort of way?
It's called 'Maddalena of the Heavenly Happiness';
it sounds better in Italian.
no, it never got translated into English -
it's rather
Catholic
if you know what I mean.
Though it actually took place
in the Near East
or whatever it was called then.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I think good radio often uses the techniques of fiction: characters, scenes, a big urgent emotional question. And as in the best fiction, tone counts for a lot.