These Things
these things that we support most well
have nothing to do with up,
and we do with them
out of boredom or fear or money
or cracked intelligence;
our circle and our candle of light
being small,
so small we cannot bear it,
we heave out with Idea
and lose the Center:
all wax without the wick,
and we see names that once meant
wisdom,
like signs into ghost towns,
and only the graves are real.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Charles Bukowski
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Related quotes
The Future is a Light
The future is a light
A moon
But there is a storm
And black clouds obstruct my view
The future is a light
A lamp
But the shade is dark
And the bulb is cracked
The future is a light
A candle
But the wind heaves
And the wick is short
The future is a light
A star
But it has shined too long
And must die soon
The future is a light
A reason
But it has disappeared
And so shall I
poem by Anonymous Person
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A Conceited Mistake
Once upon a time there was a mistake
So silly so small
That no one would even have noticed it
It couldn't bear
To see itself to hear of itself
It invented all manner of things
Just to prove
that it didn't really exist
It invented space
To put its proofs in
And time to keep its proofs
And the world to see its proofs
All it invented
Was not so silly
Nor so small
But was of course mistaken
Could it have been otherwise
Trans. Anne Pennington
Anonymous submission.
poem by Vasko Popa
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One Small Step
So many people
Need to go so many miles
How do we move them
To where the answer lies
Reach out to the ocean
Beyond the stars that shine
Weve got to take one small step in time
If we are the dreamers
Then the world must be the dream
Driven to question
All the things weve never seen
We search the horizon
Looking for a sign
Weve got to take one small step in time
One step beyond
All our hopes and our passion
There is the light of the universe flashin
All that it takes is one leap of faith
One small step, (one small step)
One small step in time
Deep in the darkness
(deep in the blackness)
Theres a wind that never dies
(theres a wind that never dies)
Out in the vastness
(out in the vastness)
Theres a road across the sky
(a road across the sky)
Out there is the reason
That we were meant to find
Weve got to take one small step in time
Weve got to take one small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
One small step in time
(one small step, one small step)
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whoever sets himself to see things as they are will find himself one of a very small circle but it is only by this small circle resolutely doing its own work that adequate ideas will ever get current at all.
quote by Matthew Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond The Gray Sky
It is a gift I know
A moment of bliss that we hold
A firecracker flash of light then on
To the next plane soul remain
Come along if you dare
It's gonna be that you're scared
Lovely life I thank you
For the reason to see the pain through
Light a candle for the dead
The wick is burning returning what we have
It's who we are
We'll reach you if you're beyond the furthest star
Don't give up the fight to stay alive and even if
you have to
Find the reason of another's pain if they lose you
If not for your self then those around who care
like I do
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
Light a candle...
The wick...
It's who we are...
One day you'll see the clear blue
Beyond the Gray Sky
I can't believe you didn't call
What made you want to end it all
Wasn't there something I should have tried
To help you see beyond the gray sky
song performed by by 311
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Small Town
Well I was born in a small town
And I live in a small town
Probly die in a small town
Oh, those small communities
All my friends are so small town
My parents live in the same small town
My job is so small town
Provides little opportunity
Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic thats me
But Ive seen it all in a small town
Had myself a ball in a small town
Married an l.a. doll and brought her to this small town
Now shes small town just like me
No I cannot forget where it is that I come from
I cannot forget the people who love me
Yeah, I can be myself here in this small town
And people let me be just what I want to be
Got nothing against a big town
Still hayseed enough to say
Look whos in the big town
But my bed is in a small town
Oh, and thats good enough for me
Well I was born in a small town
And I can breathe in a small town
Gonna die in this small town
And thats probly where theyll bury me
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Best Way To Avoid Publicity
The best way to avoid publicity in small towns,
Especially...
Where there are those who are quick to peek and probe.
Is to pretend to seek it!
That's right.
People living in small towns love to believe,
There are those living amongst them...
Who seek attention.
And there are very few people I know,
Who advocate the advertising for peace of mind.
People living in small towns,
Frown down upon others...
Just on general principle anyway.
Anything that does not conform to limitation,
Is ignored and left alone.
That's why many celebrities and other notables,
Choose these places to live to be shunned and go unnoticed.
And this feeling has a mutual understanding that is respected.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Train Window
Small towns
Crawling out of their green shirts…
Tubercular towns
Coughing a little in the dawn…
And the church…
There is always a church
With its natty spire
And the vestibule—
That's where they whisper:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…
How many codes for a wireless whisper—
And corn flatter than it should be
And those chits of leaves
Gadding with every wind?
Small towns
From Connecticut to Maine:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…tzz-tzz…
poem by Lola Ridge
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Light Blub and the Candle
Candle: 'You think your so bright.'
Light Blub: 'I'm supposed to be that way.'
But at least I don't go out, everytime a breeze blows in.'
Candle: 'Hey I have been here longer than you.'
Light Blub: 'Edison invented me, who invented you? '
Candle: 'Don't really know for sure, but I have been around longer.'
Light Blub: 'You already said that.'
Candle: ' I get so mad, everytime someone says, they have an idea
they compare it to a light blub.'
Light Blub: 'Who else.'
Candle: ' When the power goes out, were the first things people reach
for.'
Light Blub: 'Yes, but as soon as the power comes back on, they put
you away.'
Edison: 'Listen here you two, you both serve a purpose and are
needed very much, don't you see.'
Light Blub: ' He's right, I'm sorry candle.'
Candle: 'Your forgiven, light blub, so am I.'
(4-11-07)
Sonnet: Life’s Candle Flame
Our life is like a candle-wick aflame,
Whose glowing brightness drives darkness away,
And keeps on burning though a fierce Wind came,
To sputter, spew forth smoke, all night ‘til day.
A blowing Gale can make us burn too fast;
The wind can put the flame off premature;
Both wick and wax must synchronously last;
Our teacher best is dear Mother Nature.
How long each candle lasts? No one can tell;
How bright the flame can be? Depends on us;
Yet, some waste wick and wax to burn like hell!
God expects us to burn steady sans fuss.
A candle ought to light the world that’s dark;
Yet, burn with steadiness without a spark!
5-18-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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A Small Anonymous Word
A SMALL ANONYMOUS WORD
A small anonymous word
A word of praise-
How much this can mean,
To the lonely writer.
Writing far away and unseen
Forever to be unknown?
A small word of praise
How much it can mean?
Thank you my few readers
Whoever
You are.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I Am Only One Small Name In A Universe
I AM ONLY ONE SMALL NAME IN A UNIVERSE
I am only one small name in a universe,
Of billions of names-
I am only one small bodily being
Where there are billions of billions-
I am a beginning and an end,
As all living things-
A speck in vast spaces whose specks are uncountable-
No one or nothing need save me
No one or nothing need remember me
No one or nothing billions of years hence
Need smile because I was here.
I am so small I need never to have existed-
I am not even here now,
Whoever is writing this
Lost me a long time ago.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Acceptance Threatens the Status Quo
Small towns aren't the only places...
Where acceptance is regarded,
As difficult as learning a foreign language.
And spoken although despised...
By those noncomformists criticized,
And labelled to provoke...
As mavericks.
Acceptance threatens the status quo.
Those folks choosing to maintain unconditional control...
No matter how low the deceptive use of their tactics.
And...
Innovative are those tactics!
Acceptance fosters maturing as well.
Small minds uncomfortable with this process...
Are generally threatened by growth,
And the affects of all signs of intelligence expressed.
This is as evident as the planting of weeds,
To ensure the killing of floral bloom.
And the excitement of the anticipation of it.
This kind of acceptance is an infestation.
And some folks are just as thrilled to manifest the defects!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The candle melts too
The candle melts too
The candle flickers but melts too
This is what we meant for life and very true
It is sign of great dedication and sacrifice
Fulfilling dreams with lots of promises
Little wind makes candle to fear
Shake the light for dark to bear
It may take over without any warning
Something to happen with so much lightening
The same thing is with all the creatures
Birds too fear with weak wings for sure
Who can help them even if wanted?
No one, I fear, as everything will be distanced
Man must reason out and listen
To his inner call in crisis even
That may give some more time to think
As if with distress call before ship sinks
Each object has something to reveal
There is enough of in it and not to conceal
Give and take it back is nice to deal
Only satisfaction when rightly you feel
Vanish from the scene if task is not accomplished
Wind up the show when target is finished
Give no more attachment to the spoiled things
There may be pain and agony when you miss something
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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An array of candles
On that corner
There is this array of
Candles
That you see
If you only look
Carefully
There is one candle
There
Its light is about to
Stop
Its wick so short
To last for
Another minute
That candle is my
Life
And soon it will
Signify an
End
Do not ask me
I do not want an
Extension
Even for a
Second
I had enough of
This light
This little light
I had enough of this
Vast darkness
There is no time
Nicer enough
To convince me
For more of it
I had enough
Let me say it again
I had enough of
You.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Portrait Number Five: Against A New York Summer
I'd walk her home after work
buying roses and talking of Bechsteins.
She was full of soul.
Her small room was gorged with heat
and there were no windows.
She'd take off everything
but her pants
and take the pins from her hair
throwing them on the floor
with a great noise.
Like Crete.
We wouldn't make love.
She'd get on the bed
with those nipples
and we'd lie
sweating
and talking of my best friend.
They were in love.
When I got quiet
she'd put on usually Debussy
and
leaning down to the small ribs
bite me.
Hard.
Anonymous submission.
poem by Jack Gilbert
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Answers
I kept my answers small and kept them near;
Big questions bruised my mind but still I let
Small answers be a bullwark to my fear.
The huge abstractions I kept from the light;
Small things I handled and caressed and loved.
I let the stars assume the whole of night.
But the big answers clamoured to be moved Into my life. Their great audacity
Shouted to be acknowledged and believed.
Even when all small answers build up to
Protection of my spirit, still I hear
Big answers striving for their overthrow.
And all the great conclusions coming near.
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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With a Multiple and Diverse Agenda
The moment I hear someone gossiped about,
With a name unheard before...
I know immediately that person is making attempts,
To get something done.
And in a small town...
Where the rights and wrongs are tossed around,
That person talked about...
Has to be a new arrival trying to do,
What others refuse or choose not to.
And that is...
Something other than snooping,
In somebody else's business!
With a doing...
Hopefully that person will learn how to do,
In disguise.
Or with a multiple and diverse agenda,
In the getting of 'something' done.
Small minded folks in smaller towns,
Are provoked easily by change.
And anyone expressing intelligence.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Ghost Bear, page 1 of 4
Long ago, in a small village
Where the Great River meets the
Limitless Salt Sea, lived Muin Manitu,
An aging shaman.
Ghost Bear had two good wives
Who gave him four fine daughters
And many grand-children.
But now both wives were dead.
Ghost Bear was getting old,
So old that he made his death song
Mumbling it often under his breath
So he would not forget it.
One night, Raven came to Ghost Bear
In a dream, bringing an important message.
“You must leave wigwam and village,
before the sun rises again.”
“This must be my time, ” thought
Ghost Bear, “My time to die.
I am glad. It is a good time
to leave this world.”
And so, taking only his knife and
His Medicine Bag, Ghost Bear pushed
His canoe out into the river while
All the village slept.
“I will go west on the Great River, ”
Thought Ghost Bear to himself, “Then,
When it is my time to go, I will be
pointed in the right direction.”
All morning long, Ghost Bear paddled
Westward on the Great River, and when
Sun was directly above him, he saw
A raven flying high above.
“I am going true, ” he thought, “Raven
Has sent me an unmistakeable sign.”
And Ghost Bear kept paddling with
Neither food nor drink.
As day became night, Ghost Bear
Continued on, for the full moon was bright
And showed him the right path on the
Great River clearly, brightly.
poem by John Bliven Morin
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