To a Post Office Inkwell
How many humble hearts have dipped
In you, and scrawled their manuscript!
Have shared their secrets, told their cares,
Their curious and quaint affairs!
Your pool of ink, your scratchy pen,
Have moved the lives of unborn men,
And watched young people, breathing hard,
Put Heaven on a postal card.
poem by Christopher Morley
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Related quotes
The Arrangement
You could have been more
Than a name on the door
On the thirty-third floor in the air
More than a credit card
Swimming pool in the backyard
While you still have the time
You could get away and find
A better life, you know the grind is so ungrateful
Racing cars, whisky bars
No one cares who you really are
Youre the keeper of the cards
Yes I know it gets hard
Keeping the wheels turning
And the wife she keeps the keys
She is so pleased to be
A part of the arrangement
You could have been more
Than a name on the door
On the thirty-third floor in the air
More than a consumer
Lying in some roam trying to die
More than a credit card
Swimming pool in the backyard
You could have been more than a name on the door
You could have been more than a name on the door
You could have been more
You could have been more
You could have been more
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Humble People
Humble people
We both are
We are humble people
We are happy
We have someone that is watching out for us
Humble people
Are much happier than those who have too much
Humble people have little but they are happy
Humble people are rich in spirit
Humble people have more friends
Than those that are rich
We are not so materialistic either
Humble people
Like to enjoy other humble people also
That is the kind of people they mix with
Humble people don’t wear any expensive clothes
Humble people are good Christians
Humble people are hungry for the word of the Lord
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Sometimes.. all the times
Sometimes I keep on building high walls around me
Not to keep myself away
But to see who cares enough to break them all
Who cares enough to make them fall
Sometimes I keep on constructing barriers around my heart
Not to keep my heart safe
But to see who cares enough to start
Sometimes I keep myself inside a fence
Not as a defense
But rather to see who really feels me... who has enough sense
Sometimes I keep on creating obstacles for whoever wants me close
Not to play “hard to get”
But rather to know why am I the one he chose?
Sometimes I prefer to be isolated
Not to be lonely …
But rather to see who cares enough to come close and approach me
Sometimes I prefer to be remote
Not because of fear
But rather to see who cares enough to be near
Sometimes I prefer to keep the distance
Not to act arrogant
But rather to see who cares enough to be persistent
Sometimes I do not take any initiative
Not because I’m acting so protective
But to know to whom am I really attractive
Sometimes I intend to be passive
Not to show no interest
But to see who cares enough to be impressive
Sometimes I intend to be mysterious
Not because I want to look serious
But rather to see who cares enough to be curious
Sometimes I intend to be unsocial
Not to be rude
But rather to see to whom am I really special
Sometimes I keep on wearing masks hiding my real self
Not to pretend
But rather to see who will remove them in the end
Sometimes I keep all my secrets covered
To see to whom and how it will be discovered
Sometimes I lock my door
To see who is willing to explore
Who really cares enough to know me more
Sometimes … all the times ….
And until now I haven’t found the kind of care I need
I haven’t found that someone who cares enough to succeed
13 June 2006
poem by by unknown author
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Secrets 4
Second: secrets of (and this is hard to translate)
secrets of estate-water-fountain secrets-for lack of a better term
secrets which pertain to people in the flow of it all
unaffected by the course of desire
of woes never having never been earned per se
what might be an example? Let's see:
that so and so is getting a yellow slip,
that so and so is up to her ears in debt,
that someone is not well:
these must be conserved for half a year
under pain of the most abysmal Karma
and leaked to no more than two informees
themselves bid to secrecy for a similar time
the better to slow the secret's progress through a curious world-
the better to calm the snakes, to calm their hissing.
Conducting these secrets, one must burn the ghostly berries of mistletoe
Don't ask me why, I didn't make the rules,
I am just repeating what I read.
But the third kind of secret
is the heart secret-
bespeaking things that happen in the dark
between two or more individuals;
secrets which whisper of the wigglings of limbs
and cinematically depict the fissuring and collapse of the will
like a sanddune sacked by a seastorm, upon the mind's eye.
These secrets are considered the most sacred:
virginal. inviolable. beloved of the deese,
and while they are young
deserving to be.....
poem by Morgan Michaels
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So Hard
I double-cross you
And you get mysterious mail
I've tried hard not to shock you
It's hard not to with the things I could say
Tell me why don't we try
Not to break our hearts and make it so hard for ourselves?
Why don't we try
Not to break our hearts and make it so hard for ourselves?
You lock your letters in a box
And you've hidden the key
I go one better - I'm indebted
To a contact magazine
Tell me why don't we try
Not to break our hearts and make it so hard for ourselves?
Why don't we try
Not to break our hearts and make it so hard for us?
Everybody's got to live together
Just to find a little peace of mind there
If you give up your affairs forever
I will give up mine
But it's hard
So hard
I'm always hoping you'll be faithful
But you're not
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys from Disco 2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moved By His Love
Moved by The Lord’s amazing Love, sent to us free from Heaven above,
Just how could it be my dear friend, that we are so quiet about the end?
Indeed about the end of every life, and everyone’s need for Jesus Christ.
Could it just be a small possibility, some in the Church don’t care to see,
There are people today my friend, who know nothing at all about the end.
While we’ve been given eyes to see, God’s amazing Truth about Eternity.
You see my friend, you and me, have been blessed by God abundantly.
And His blessing we need to share, to show all men how much He cares.
The Spirit has given us the sight, to move our hearts from wrong to right.
And men still on the wrong path, must be warned about the future wrath.
Led from the path of Decimation, unto Christ and His Glorious Salvation,
Those of us, who with sight can see, should be signs pointing to Eternity.
Friend, it can be an awesome disgrace, if Christians latch onto this place.
For us this earth is not our home, but our hearts here continue to roam.
And in our hearts, at times we lust, for the worldly things surrounding us.
This is when our lives may seem to say, earth is the place I’d rather stay.
Maybe Christ in us, men can not see, because we are living too worldly,
When we should be strangers here, while living our lives in reverent fear.
With these days so evil my friend, Christians need to focus upon the end,
So before this world ceases to be, we can point more people to Eternity.
Sonnet -Blessed are the Poor on Earth
Let discontented men, learn from the poor,
Who smile despite the anguish in their hearts;
Hard-working all their lives for bread, succor;
Yet, struggling always to improve their lots.
No job is mean but honesty matters;
The vagaries of life tease them so much;
And scarcely clothed, that too in such tatters;
They wait with patience for God's magic touch.
Yet, all the while, their faces wear big smiles;
Their hearts are moved by beggar's cries for alms;
Barefoot in Rain or Sun, they walk the miles;
Their hearts are soft but roughened are their palms.
The Gates of Heaven are open to them;
Their poverty becomes their diadem.
poem by John Celes
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Dirty Sheets, and Secrets
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not to meant to keep.
Violence has no restraints.
A bruise with no complaint.
Women quite quaint.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Infidelity, a double cheat has his reasons indeed.
Never quite complete full of envy.
Theirs a tell tale sign jealousy.
He want nothing to do with you.
How many clues, how many?
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Keep the habit with such evil deeds.
Stealing the sun to buy the moon is just another impossibility.
He says he can't help it,
it taste and feels so sweet.
He has received the treatment.
What good did it do. How many clues, how many.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
Still you protect him, protect him.
Be done with the dirty sheets.
Some secrets are not meant to keep.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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In Deep Thought
In deep thought
as I walk
The world passes me by,
Then suddenly in a wink
I sit down and begin to cry.
To all my friends whom I said goodbye.
In deep thought
As I think,
Memories begin to appear.
Of all my friends
Whom I said goodbye
But suddenly, they now are here.
As life came easy,
Death came hard,
As it's faith last played card.
But then I smile
For friends do die
But their dreams die so hard.
In deep verse
As I speak,
The words they leave my mouth,
Of the memories that I thought
Formed into a cloud,
Shaped into a child.
They sit at my feet
And wisper in my ear
The secrets of being young.
But thern I smile
For their secrets are known
As my life becomes undone.
In deep stress
I finally confess
Of secrets I once had held,
I open up their door
That has been locked before
Being as deep as a wishing well.
They come to the surface
And they clear my mind
My brain now knows no crime.
But only that, of being alive.
In deep wonder as I sit
I begin to think and reflect
For people do die
And children do cry
But their dreams will always live.
And hopes they'll always give,
In deep thought, as I think.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Sonnet: Postal Stamp History
Sonnet: Postal Stamp History
The postal stamp started in England (1840)
And was destined to spread around the world.
It would soon reach as far as Brazil,
As the momentum continued to swirl.
It reached the United States of America
In the year of eighteen-forty five.
And a winner throughout the centuries
The postal stamp is very much alive.
The price of the first stamp was one cent.
But today, it would cost forty-four
And with so many rate hikes in between,
I am very sure that there will be more.
And as long as there is mail to send,
The postal stamp will never come to end.
poem by Walterrean Salley
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Sonnet: Blessed Are The Poor On Earth
Let discontented men, learn from the poor,
Who smile despite the anguish in their hearts;
Hard-working all their lives for bread, succor;
Yet, struggling always to improve their lots.
No job is mean but honesty matters;
The vagaries of life tease them so much;
And scarcely clothed, that too in such tatters,
They wait with patience for God's magic touch.
Yet, all the while, their faces wear big smiles;
Their hearts are moved by beggar's cries for alms;
Barefoot in Rain or Sun, they walk the miles;
Their hearts are soft but roughened are their palms.
The Gates of Heaven are open to them;
Their poverty becomes their diadem.
6-14-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's human nature to be curious about people, and to be more curious about young people than old people. We want to cheer something on at the same time we want to tear it down. That's just so normal.
Secret
Secrets are good,
Secrets are bad,
I have a secret,
It may make you sad.
Secrets deep,
Secrets shallow,
It may be hard,
To swallow.
Secrets heavy,
Secrets light,
This is to be told,
At night.
Secrets kept,
Secrets told,
This secret,
Is very old.
Secrets of love,
Secrets of hate,
This secret,
Is great.
Secret love,
Secret hate,
My secret,
Is who,
I love.
A guy so sweet,
A guy so great.
A guy so fun,
A guy so nice.
This guy is different,
This guy is a dove.
This is the guy,
Who I love.
Different is great,
Different is sweet,
No one knows us,
So it's great.
This guy is lonely,
This guy is friendless.
I like him,
And he likes me.
No one talks to him,
No one talks to me.
We are the same,
We are different.
He doesn't know,
That I love him,
Cause he knows,
We're the same.
I've no love,
He's caught a dove.
He's had no love,
He taught me how to catch a dove.
He's tall and smart,
He's sweet and friendly,
He's nice and fun,
He's the sun.
I have a secret,
One that's free like a dove,
I have a secret,
That's all about love...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
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Friday's Child
We've been told to live our lives
Just working on a feeling
Waiting for the sun on what
We do believe in
I'm every man
I hear the cry of someone else
A drowning man reaching out
But no-one hears
I know a man living out his life
Without a reason
And he says...
Chorus
Monday's got a beautiful baby
And Wednesday's child can never win
Little Saturday will work till he's crazy
But Friday's child was born to give
Now what about all the unborn people that will suffer
At the hands of Mr. Right
Who cares about no other
I see a mother who lets her children use her up
I know a father who sacrifices his wayward son
I wonder
What you give that someone else is needing nothing
Next to nothing
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Will Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Wonderful Wife
'I'm just me.' says she, but there's so much more.
She's just the one I have been looking for.
If I traveled the whole world round,
There's no one better I could have found.
She calls herself 'a gentle soul'.
Scores of friends attest to her role.
She hopes no one again breaks her heart.
Thank God she stold mine from the start.
Those gorgeous eyes and generous smile
Display an always-positive style.
She cares and cares and cares a lot...
And loves and loves with all she's got.
Her tears always a blink away
Belie her tenderness on display
For others less fortunate with life.
How lucky I am that she's my wife.
Everyone's birthday receives her card.
She always remembers and tries hard
To give every chance she can
And thinks of others time and again.
Her faith has been a guiding light
As she lives her beliefs and will fight
To help others whenever they appear.
She’s my life. I'm so grateful she's here.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Ain't That Love
I will always remember the first time that we met
And the first time that I kissed your lips.
Is a thing I wont forget.
The special way you held me is the way you hold me still.
And I knew right then you love me and I know you always will.
Ain't that love
Ain't that how it's supose to be
When two hearts come together as one.
Just like you and me,
Ain't that love,
Shining in your eye's,
Heaven sent from up above.
Ain't that love.
My grandpa and my grandma,
My momma and my dad,
Didn't have a lot of things.
But love is what they had,
Their love kept them together thru the many years.
Though life was hard,
They shared it all through the laughter and the tears.
Ain't that love
Ain't that how it's supose to be
When two hearts come together as one.
Just like you and me,
Ain't that love,
Shining in your eye's,
Heaven sent from up above.
Ain't that love.
Baby your the sunshine that brightens up my day,
And I will always stand by you.
Darling come what may,
And I will always love you,
To have and to hold.
And I'll keep my every promise to you with this band of gold.
Ain't that love
Ain't that how it's supose to be
When two hearts come together as one.
Just like you and me,
Ain't that love,
Shining in your eye's,
Heaven sent from up above.
Ain't that love.
Heaven sent from up above,
Aint tha't love
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letting You Go
It ain't no fun lying down to sleep
And there ain't no secrets left for me to keep
I wish the stars up in the sky
Would all just call in sick
And the clouds would take the moon out
On some one-way trip
I drove all night down streets that wouldn't bend
But somehow they drove me back here once again
To the place i lost at love, and the place i lost my soul
I wish i'd just burn down this place that we called home
It would all have been so easy
If you'd only made me cry
And told me how you're leaving me
To some organ grinder's lullaby
It's hard, so hard - it's tearing out my heart
It's hard letting you go
Now the sky, it shines a different kind of blue
And the neighbor's dog don't bark like he used to
Well - me, these days
I just miss you - it's the nights that i go insane
Unless you're coming back for me
That's one thing i know that won't change
It's hard, so hard - it's tearing out my heart
It's hard letting you go
Now some tarot card shark said i'll draw you a heart
And we'll find you somebody else new
But i've made my last trip to those carnival lips
When i bet all that i had on you
It's hard, it's hard, it's hard, so hard
It's hard letting you go
It's hard, so hard, it's tearing out my heart
But it's hard letting you go
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cupid's Mess!
Here comes the valentine day,
The season and time of the year,
When cupid is more busier than ever,
Shooting arrows to young as well as selected old hearts.
Cupid is known to play the game of love,
He with his symbolic bow and arrows,
Is known to ignite love among young hearts,
Creating love confusion is cupid’s favorite game.
His most successful moments,
When hearts become fully dipped in love,
And when their hearts act stronger than their mind,
And when the victims are not in their actual disposition.
So great was the joy of Cupid,
His sense of pride in his success,
To see the pain and excitement of people in love,
So Cupid was called by angels as 'Stupid Cupid'!
10/02/09
Valentine Day's special
poem by Winnie Angel
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Red Ink
Her many suicides.
Scrawled writing
on the card,
its ink
is bright red.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Business Of Others
People with a knack,
For keeping their noses...
In the business affairs of others,
Are often surprised and quite upset...
By secrets kept,
Others keep hidden away from them...
That are right under their probing noses.
And they become offended,
When the 'info' to another has been revealed.
'I thought you told me you two weren't speaking? '
~We aren't.
We email and text.
Finding this the best way to communicate.
Without the rest of the people 'twisting' what they hear,
Within listening distance.~
'And...
What are you implying? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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