Test
a harrowed ref equals
photojournalist's bucket
communicating targetted
wishes - blank images
source of imaginings
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Bucket T
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Bucket bucket t t, bucket t bucket t,
Found her in a barn in tennessee
I paid five bucks for my bucket t
Took me three years of sweat and blood
To clean off all that tennessee mud
Chorus:
My bucket t (bucket t)
Bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
My bucket t (bucket t)
T t t... bucket bucket bucket...
Cruise down the street in front of school
I wanna rev it up but I gotta be cool
Drivin down the road Ill get my kicks
Apoppin the clutch and aslippin the sticks
[chorus]
I was right, too, shes first in her class
Theres nothing on the freeway she dont pass
All the girls want to take a ride with me
But theres only one seat in my bucket t
[chorus]
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both of us
Both of us
equals trust.
It equalls happiness,
And forever lasting love.
It equals kind smiles,
as beautiful as the stars above.
Both of us,
equals never alone,
It equals joy
And never on our own.
IT equals we
not just you and me.
It equals love,
Don't you see....
Blank
Blank pages, blank lines
Blank heart, blank mind
Blank feeling, blank soul
Blank high, blank low.
I dont know why
You just cant see
That all you've ever known
Is the blank side of me.
Bucket Kicker
What rhymes with bucket?
'That depends.
Is the bucket empty?
And
Is there anyone kicking it? '
Let's say the bucket is full.
And it is being carried?
'In a Porshe?
Or a Mercedes? '
You know
Sometimes I wonder why,
I bother to ask you anything!
'Oh
So 'you're' the kicker?
That should be obvious.'
Why is it obvious now?
'Well,
If a bucket is struck by a kicker out of luck
And that bucket is not picked up,
That bucket struck aint worth
What's being dumped into it from an outhouse.'
What's an outhouse have to do with it?
'That's for you to figure out
That bucket I'm going to carry
Is going to be in the trunk of my limousine.'
Thank you.
But that doesn't rhyme with bucket
'My plucked duckets
In the trunk of a limo
Sitting filled to the brim
In my golden bucket
And your hands aint around
Or near enough to touch it
Uh, I don't know about you
But that sounds very poetic to me
And you can fuss and cuss,
While kicking your bucket all you want
Thank you for your inspiration.'
No problem.
I just know from now on
Not to ask you anything
'I'm cool with that
Bucket kicker.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I'd write a letter to you
And there'd be nothing to it
I wouldn't hem and haw
On just how to start it
I wish I was blank
I wish I was blank
I wish I could thank
I wish I was blank
I wish I'd stand up straight
I wish I'd said things different
I wish I'd said nothing
Things would be so perfect
I wish myself to keep
I pray my soul to sleep
I wish myself away
I wish I was blank
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from The Aeroplane Flies High
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Source Of Confort
God is a source of energy
God is a source of light
God is a source of love
God is a source of peace
God is a source of comfort
God is a source of hope
God is a source of freedom
God is a source of praise
poem by Aldo Kraas
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God's reasons for communicating with man must be subsumed under his reason for communicating to him his account of his creation of the world - and man.
quote by Leo Strauss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not a photojournalist.
quote by Robert Mapplethorpe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great appeal of the doctrine that the mind is a blank slate is the simple mathematical fact that zero equals zero.
quote by Steven Pinker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A workshop is a way of renting an audience, and making sure you're communicating what you think you're communicating. It's so easy as a young writer to think you're been very clear when in fact you haven't.
quote by Octavia Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Bucket Of Water
One bucket of water
Razed the city to ashes.
One bucket of water
Could not quench the fire
Blazing from the town's
Central pump.
One bucket of water
A man held, jumped the
Queue to the pump.
One bucket of water
At the pump, about to
Collect water, resisted.
They stared each other
In the eye. Their tribal
Marks were different.
They threw caution to
The winds. Including
All buckets on the line.
Everyone queued behind
Their tribal marks. And
The city burnt through its
Length and breath. Death
Sprung out of life. And life
Spilled out of the bucket.
poem by Adeoye Adetoba
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Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indelible Images
Idelible Images
That first day of school
That first friend
Indelible Images
That first play
That first fight
Idelible Images
That first graduation
That first car
Idelible Images
That first drunk
That first sober
Idelible Images
That first love
That first forget
Idelible Images
That first death
That first realization
Indelible Images
poem by Scott Tetreault
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We have been taught to believe that negative equals realistic and positive equals unrealistic.
quote by Susan Jeffers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
quote by Mignon McLaughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
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Images
Images.
Images invented.
Images invented to cement.
Images invented to cement and limit,
To give images purpose and intent.
A reason to solidify limitations that prevent,
A bombardment of unrestricted imaginations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We came equals into this world, and equals shall we go out of it.
quote by George Mason
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Speakers
"A equals X," says Mister One.
"A equals B," says Mister Two.
"A equals nothing under the sun
But A," says Mister Three. A few
Applaud; some wipe their eyes;
Some linger in the shade to see
One and Two in neat disguise
Decapitating Mister Three.
"This age is not entirely bad."
It's bad enough, God knows, but you
Should know Elizabethans had
Sweeneys and Mrs. Porters too.
The past goes down and disappears,
The present stumbles home to bed,
The future stretches out in years
That no one knows, and you'll be dead.
poem by Weldon Kees
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Dreamers
Oh if we knew
what life would bring
would we settle for that?
And not take wing
and fly to an adventure
that's far from here?
Something unknown to every man
would be my choice,
would be my plan.
Never included would there be pain
for there's enough of that
where we remain.
To fly to the imaginings
where man lives free,
to the place of dreamers
such as we.
But we do not know
what life will bring.
So we settle for
this incalculable thing.
And our imaginings
all disappear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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