For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further
Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me.
And if I tried
to give you something else,
something outside of myself,
you would not know
that the worst of anyone
can be, finally,
an accident of hope.
I tapped my own head;
it was a glass, an inverted bowl.
It is a small thing
to rage in your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself;
it was you, or your house
or your kitchen.
And if you turn away
because there is no lesson here
I will hold my awkward bowl,
with all its cracked stars shining
like a complicated lie,
and fasten a new skin around it
as if I were dressing an orange
or a strange sun.
Not that it was beautiful,
but that I found some order there.
There ought to be something special
for someone
in this kind of hope.
This is something I would never find
in a lovelier place, my dear,
although your fear is anyone's fear,
like an invisible veil between us all…
and sometimes in private,
my kitchen, your kitchen,
my face, your face.
poem by Anne Sexton
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More Than Myself
Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me . . .
I tapped my own head;
it was glass, an inverted bowl.
It's small thing
to rage inside your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Asylum Earth
Frustrated I stood in front
of the God to Pray,
And asked him why lunatics
are increasing day by day.
Why there is scarcity
of people in a synagogue,
Why popping up of
Prozac is in a vogue.
Why people look as they
are coming from morgue,
Why all minds are clouded
by the depression’s fog.
Then, God appeared suddenly
with his mischievous smile,
And he started to speak
in his inimitable style:
“Son! this earth is nothing
but asylum of the universe
But for marketing my poets
described it in beautiful verse.
But most fools are the people
who claim to be wise,
And labors to turn this asylum
in a pretty paradise.
But thing which fills me
with a gaiety and mirth,
Is your construction of an
asylum within an asylum earth.”
“Do you know why this asylum
earth is devoid of joy and fun?
Because men who turned wise
are poisoned or shot by guns.
Unless and until you
immediately rectify your error,
This earth cannot be freed from
madness, anxiety and terror.
Benumbed by god’s answer
I immediately left his premise,
In order to prevent becoming
one more mad wise.
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
11/01/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Dear Diary
Dear diary
Today I saw a boy
And I wondered if he noticed me
He took my breath away
Dear diary
I can't get him off my mind
And it scares me
'Cause I've never felt this way
No one in this world
Knows me better than you do
So diary I'll confide in you
Dear diary
Today I saw a boy
As he walked by I thought he smiled at me
And I wondered
Does he know what's in my heart
I tried to smile
song performed by by Britney Spears from Oops! ...I Did It Again
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Diary
Dear Diary....
this heart of mine is been confused
if it is love, infatuation or crush
he always in my thoughts all day and night
that keeps lingering on my mind
Dear diary....
here I’ am smiling all alone
and thinking him all day long
and see him face closer to mine
walking hand and hand
talking laughing and feeling
Dear diary.....
I don’t know what to do?
Tell me where do I start
I miss him each day of my life
can't explain this feeling I have
if it is madness... when it will last?
Dear diary....
I wonder what would happen next?
Song of my heart will be please
this feeling soon will reveal
a love I have been hidden and care about
Dear diary... tell me now
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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A handful of common sense is worth a bushel of learning.
Beautiful Mind
A BEATIFUL MIND IS A VIRGIN MIND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND THINK NO EVIL.ABEAUTIFUL MIND IS PREACIOUS THAN DIAMOND.A BEAUTIFUL MIND LIVE IN PEACE LIKE DOVE IN THE SKY.A BEAUTIFUL MIND IS PURELIKE OLIVE OIL.A BEAUTIFUL MIND HAS NO PLACE FOR HATRED.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL ALWAYS THINK OF LOVE AND CARE AND NOT TO HURT.A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL PUT A LIGHT IN THE WORLD THAT WILL BE BRIGTHER THAN DAY LIGHT.IF A THOUSAND PROBLEMS APPEARS, A BEAUTIFUL MIND WILL COME UP WIHT MILLIONS SOLUTION.
poem by Tijani Adebowale Destiny
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My Diary (Demo Recording)
I looked in my diary, no spaces today,
A life so eventful, stacked with appointments too important to break,
Lunch at the bistro, tea at the savoy cafe,
No time to contemplate the isolation,
No second can be wasted, no space to think because,
My diary is full but my life is empty.
Oh yes, my diary is full but my life is empty.
Its all so contemporary, the sheer pretension of it,
Its all so temporary, but all so shallow really,
Let me look, I might be able to squeeze you in between,
No, my diary is so full I couldnt possibly meet you today,
This evening is blocked out with potential investors in my lonely one-man play,
Perhaps next week maybe when there are fewer functions to attend,
So for now Ill pencil you in,
Between the visit to my doctor, my appointment at the bank,
This time its really crucial, thats why its written in red,
My diary is my life and my life is standing on my head,
Oh my diary is full but my life is empty,
Oh yes my diary is full but my life...
I look at your picture on my bedroom wall,
Im trying to forget you, thats why my diary is so full,
Chock-a-block with engagements but its only for show,
cause Im all dressed up with nowhere to go,
To stop my isolation, keep myself occupied,
My diary is my one salvation,
Names, dates, numbers, but inside I long to cancel all those entries,
My diary is full but my lifes empty,
My diary is full but my life is empty.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Diary
I looked in my diary, no spaces today,
A life so eventful, stacked with appointments too important to break,
Lunch at the bistro, tea at the savoy cafe,
No time to contemplate the isolation,
No second can be wasted, no space to think because,
My diary is full but my life is empty.
Oh yes, my diary is full but my life is empty.
Its all so contemporary, the sheer pretension of it,
Its all so temporary, but all so shallow really,
Let me look, I might be able to squeeze you in between,
No, my diary is so full I couldnt possibly meet you today,
This evening is blocked out with potential investors in my lonely one-man play,
Perhaps next week maybe when there are fewer functions to attend,
So for now Ill pencil you in,
Between the visit to my doctor, my appointment at the bank,
This time its really crucial, thats why its written in red,
My diary is my life and my life is standing on my head,
Oh my diary is full but my life is empty,
Oh yes my diary is full but my life...
I look at your picture on my bedroom wall,
Im trying to forget you, thats why my diary is so full,
Chock-a-block with engagements but its only for show,
cause Im all dressed up with nowhere to go,
To stop my isolation, keep myself occupied,
My diary is my one salvation,
Names, dates, numbers, but inside I long to cancel all those entries,
My diary is full but my lifes empty,
My diary is full but my life is empty.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poems As Diary
to know me
there is no other but this poetry
to know poetry however
please do not read
my diary
for this diary may fail the standards
of your poetry
but at any rate everyday poetry is a diary
what makes us fume like a mad cow
what makes us whistle like a satisfied lover
what makes us surrender in defeat and shout victory in triumphs
little things and big things
all summed up
in this new thing: diary as poetry
and poetry as diary.
we do not even have to rhyme
does life rhyme at all my friend?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Written In The First Leaf Of A Child's Memorandum-Book
My neat and pretty book, when I thy small lines see
They seem for any use to be unfit for me.
My writing, all misshaped, uneven as my mind,
Within this narrow space can hardly be confined.
Yet I will strive to make my hand less awkward look;
I would not willingly disgrace thee, my neat book.
The finest pens I'll use, and wondrous pains I'll take,
And I these perfect lines my monitors will make.
And every day I will set down in order due
How that day wasted is; and should there be a few
At the year's end that show more goodly to the sight,
If haply here I find some days not wasted quite,
If a small portion of them I have passed aright,
Then shall I think the year not wholly was misspent,
And that my Diary has been by some good angel sent.
poem by Charles Lamb
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Learning
I'm learning to say thank you.
And I'm learning to say please.
And I'm learning to use Kleenex,
Not my sweater, when I sneeze.
And I'm learning not to dribble.
And I'm learning not to slurp.
And I'm learning (though it sometimes really hurts me)
Not to burp.
And I'm learning to chew softer
When I eat corn on the cob.
And I'm learning that it's much
Much easier to be a slob.
poem by Judith Viorst
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Dear Diary
Dear diary, what a day its been.
Dear diary, its been just like a dream.
Woke up late. wasnt where I should have been.
For goodness sake whats happening to me.
Write lightly, yours truly, dear diary.
It was cold outside my door.
So many people by the score.
Rushing around so senselessly.
They dont notice theres people like me.
Write lightly, yours truly, dear diary.
They dont know what theyre playing.
Theyve no way of knowing what the game is.
Still they carry on doing what they can.
Outside me, yours truly, dear diary.
Its over. will tomorrow be the same?
I know that theyre really not to blame.
If they wernt so blind then surely theyd see.
Theres a much better way for them to be.
Inside me, yours truly, dear diary.
.
.
.
Somebody exploded an h-bomb today.
But it wasnt anyone I knew.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intro
My momma said
"It seemed like yesterday my brother
Said him was gunna leave here
Said he was gunna go and make some money himself"
See my brother wants still to be a rapper
And he can rap real good too
He use to have this book he carried around with him all the time
He use to call it a diary, He use to take it everwhere he went
One day he took it to church when we went to sunday school
And the pastor asked him "Boy, whats that you got in your hand"
And he said this is my diary
And the pastor told him that sinners couldn't have no diary (sinner)
My brother said he was lying, And my brother said if he couldn't have a diary
and he was a sinner, he would just call it a diary of a sinner (diary)
My momma told him don't worry bout what pastor says
My momma told him don't worry bout what nobody says
If that was your diary, that's gunna be your diary
Thats what my mamma said
He said he gonna turn it into an album, And I believe him too
I'm just waiting (One day) one day we gunna turn that radio on ....
[Music fades
song performed by by Petey Pablo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Narrow Your Eyes
I dont want to change your mind
I dont want to think about your mind
They say love is blind
I dont think youre blind
You dont want to understand
And I dont want to shake your fathers hand
And walk in the sand
And act like a man
I get on the bus
And ride past our stop
And though Im late
I cant get off
I just cant bear to tell you some lies
And narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Well take back every thing we said
Split up all the things and move ahead
Forgot how you said
Well split the side off the bed
I get on my bike
Ride down our block
Ride through the world
Through the green lights
But when I think of all your advice
I narrow my eyes
Narrow my eyes
I dont want to change your mind
I dont want to think about your mind
They say love is blind
I dont think youre blind
I get on the bus
Ride past our stop
And though Im late
I cant get off
I just cant bear to tell you some lies
And narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Now lets toast the sad cold fact
Our loves never coming back
And well race to the bottom of a glass
So narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
Narrow your eyes
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 2
my mind's eye from outer eye remove.
make senseless the argument of sense
that beauty not subject to sense prove
nor object to time that takes you hence.
then, mind from eye withdrawn,
in dark, sense may shine bright
and mind itself your beauty form,
forming mind to your illuminate.
but not thought's sense to hear
nor sense of mind in sense feel,
dimensional sight and intelligent ear
bereft of mind from mind would reel.
no war between your feature and form
exists except in eye - that does harm.
poem by Doug Bentley
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Purgatory
Beautiful people - got their beautiful lives - got their
Beautiful husbands - got their beautiful wives - got their
Beautiful bankers - got their beautiful lawyers
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people are sent to destroy us
Beautiful people - got their beautiful kids - got their
Beautiful schools where the beautiful other half live - got their
Beautiful futures in their beautiful professions
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people got the money for the lessons
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to laugh at it
Cos, I'm living in Purgatory 'n anything's better than this
Beautiful people got their beautiful clothes - got their
Beautiful mansions - down their beautiful country roads - got their
Beautiful Doctors - in their beautiful surgeries
All things bright and beautiful
The beautiful people like a little privacy
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to laugh at it
Cos, I'm living in Purgatory 'n anything's better than this
Beautiful losers on their beautiful estates got their
beautiful job centres on the beautiful welfare wait and wait
Beautiful dreamers - out of their beautiful skulls
All things are bright and beautiful
As long as they're beautiful, people stay beautiful.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
I'm living in purgatory - I know what purgatory is
This ain't no sanctuary - This ain't no way to live
You gotta have a sense of humour - you gotta know how to lau
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Beautiful Mind
a beautiful mind is a loving mind
words as
anger, filth, dirt, sordid, squalid,
hate, indifference, murder
curse, envy
are not found
in a beautiful mind
what have i in my mind then to call my mind a beautiful mind
God, please be there
Saints please be all there
Angels please please be all there
i look at this mind with all honesty because i claim it to be one
beautiful mind
i am crazy
i am not a beautiful mind
as i claim to be
i am afraid all that is found in there is
just you
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Today
Today
(Mark it in the diary -
then throw the diary away..) :
Today dawned with the unusual
wrapped intriguingly in the familiar;
a freshness unidentifiable;
a promise, that promised
nothing specific:
as if I walk in a world
whose infinite complexity
is no problem;
its multiplicity, a straightforward matter;
which delivers something hoped for
and yet never formulated with real meaning:
simplicity;
here and now, yet feels eternal;
a heavenly sense of down-to-earthness;
a freedom that can’t remember
what it’s freed from;
where activity only seems
to tell one more of stillness,
and noise just sings of silence;
a day that’s a gift, without
a need to ask, or to receive;
where surrender is instantaneous, and continual,
and barely worth the mention;
where paradox is just a game;
where being, itself, is gratitude enough;
a day that says, this is how things are;
this is how it is... raising a quizzical eyebrow
and the hint of a smile:
you thought it otherwise..?
a day that deserves a new-coined word
to mark it as exceptionally
unexceptionable: the word has
spoken of itself:
onefulness..
for the gift of just being is beyond
all thoughts of giver and receiver;
it’s a day that promises to itself and myself,
what it delivers right now
in each present moment –
the indescribably magnificent,
glorious, who-would-have-guessed,
strangely familiar, and yet utterly new,
sense of the ordinary.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Value Of It All
When does the teaching process end?
And the learning of lessons begin...
Starting the arrival of experience?
And not far behind is a common sense,
Waiting to be triggered without a nudge?
It is there connecting all of this,
Without a budge!
Ready when needed.
However...
If a mind relies too much on books,
To lead to a life reflecting what is written...
As common as it may seem,
A sense expected is missing.
And if a mind begins to lose sight
Of experience, lessons taught
AND common sense...
There will be problems.
Big time ego ones!
Who pays?
And at what cost?
Especially...
If the value of it all is lost!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Surprise For Myself....
on his diary he writes:
dear diary
i have sacrificed a lot
years are like
layers of steel on my back
time is running fast
abnormally
on engineered days
canals are overflowing
with water
the cities are flooded
i am drowning
and yet how helpless
can i be
how dumb
not to call for professional
help or even
to talk to a close friend
about it
only to find that actually
i do not have any
of these
closer encounters
or needed
intimacies
tomorrow my dear diary
i will write more
courageously
i pray for more strength
more wisdom
tomorrow dear diary
i will surprise myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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