Bewildering Emotions
The merriment that followed was subdued--
As though the story-teller's attitude
Were dual, in a sense, appealing quite
As much to sorrow as to mere delight,
According, haply, to the listener's bent
Either of sad or merry temperament.--
'And of your two appeals I much prefer
The pathos,' said 'The Noted Traveler,'--
'For should I live to twice my present years,
I know I could not quite forget the tears
That child-eyes bleed, the little palms nailed wide,
And quivering soul and body crucified....
But, bless 'em! there are no such children here
To-night, thank God!--Come here to me, my dear!'
He said to little Alex, in a tone
So winning that the sound of it alone
Had drawn a child more lothful to his knee:--
'And, now-sir, _I'll_ agree if _you'll_ agree,--
_You_ tell us all a story, and then _I_
Will tell one.'
'_But I can't._'
'Well, can't you _try?_'
'Yes, Mister: he _kin_ tell _one_. Alex, tell
The one, you know, 'at you made up so well,
About the _Bear_. He allus tells that one,'
Said Bud,--'He gits it mixed some 'bout the _gun_
An' _ax_ the Little Boy had, an' _apples_, too.'--
Then Uncle Mart said--'There, now! that'll do!--
Let _Alex_ tell his story his own way!'
And Alex, prompted thus, without delay
Began.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Related quotes
My Mother's Eyes
I am obligated
I am my mother's child.
She makes me drowned within her awful wry
Every words makes me even, perish to die.
I am obligated
I sense my mother's cry.
But she never knew how much I tried
to be someone, not upon her gruesome wry.
I am tormented
on, becoming my mother's child.
How I wish I could be splendid die
and have those parents other than—
my mother's eyes.
Alex Jhon
I have a story that’ll
I have a story that’ll
bury Tiger Woods
under 6 feet of sand.
It’s the wishful thinking
of any golfer
to eagle their balls
in Alice’s hole.
But I wonder if anybody
wants their balls
to shrink fast enough
in the time they fly
from the golfing club
to birdie Wonderland.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Apr©2010
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Every Face Tells A Story
Look at the man in the corner, hes sitting all alone
His blankets are made out of cardboard,
His pillows are made out of stone
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
See the man walking on the water, see the light in his eyes
He came into the world with a message to tell,
He came into the world to die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Youre always telling stories, youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories, why?
So think of yourself in the water, seeing your days flashing by
Its too late to see what you wanted to be,
Youve spent all your time, you must die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Step down
And make it work out right
Im trying to get to you with my warning
Been there
For nearly half the night
Look its nearly four in the morning
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Can Have the Future
You Can Have the Future
by Alex Lewis
The present is malicious.
difficulty=delicious
We will to Hell be sent
If this is only the present.
What is the future if this is present?
Peace must have come and went.
Why should mankind advance?
He started on his last chance.
The present is so bad
That the years just add and Add.
In the future, what will become?
We cannot reverse what is done.
You can have the future.
You can have the future.
Take it far away.
It'll last a day.
Never let me see it again.
wHAT, wHERE, wHEN.
You can have the future.
poem by Alex Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Way Out
No intentions
Whatsoever
I was gone for a night
Nothings forever
The cruel daylight
Brought me back to my senses (back to my senses)
Got caught in here
Under false pretenses
No way out
None whatever
I made up the story
Thought it was clever
She didnt ask
And I got no reply (got no reply)
But later that night
I heard her cry
Chorus:
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No accusations
Whatsoever
But can she forget
Nothings forever
Since yesterday
Shes a little bit colder (little bit colder)
Wont happen again
What could Ive told her
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
Doesnt buy my story
How can she tell the truth from the lies
When does she know when to close her eyes
She doesnt want to lose me
So she only sees what she wants to see
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out she doesnt buy my story
No way out, no way
No way out...
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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About You, About Pain, A Memory...
who can change you? Nobody.
There is a need for you to change
They tell you
Like you were a child and like a child
You do not listen
You have behaved like a moth
Wishing fire that you do not know shall burn your body
They grieve upon this
But As Fate always have its way of winning over Everyone
You are finally gone
There will be a deafening silence for a while
But the flock has to move on for a greener pasture
You are a memory
A footprint that we all leave in a sand dune
The winds from the desert comes at night
Blows you away
As they all leave for another land
To draw upon their palms
A map
for Another Beginning
They shall remember you as a sad story
And they respect you for all that you have given them
And then
They must forget....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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No Way Out
No intentions
Whatsoever
I was gone for a night
Nothings forever
The cruel daylight
Brought me back to my senses
(back to my senses)
Got caught in here
Under false pretenses
No way out
None whatever
I made up the story
Thought it was clever
She didnt ask
And I got no reply
(got no reply)
But later that night
I heard her cry
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No accusations
None, whatever
But can she forget
Nothings forever
Since yesterday
Shes a little bit colder
(little bit colder)
Wont happen again
What could Ive told her
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
Doesnt buy my story
How can she tell the truth from the lies
How does she know when to close her eyes
She doesnt want to lose me
So she only sees what she wants to see
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
She doesnt buy my story
No way out
No way out
No way out
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Children In Need Poem
Today is the day
To dry a child's tears
Give a little, save a lot
Pudsey Day is here
So many children
Cry each and every night
As illness suffocates them
They cannot see the light
Homelessness, abuse
Bullying and fights
This must not continue
Those children have rights
Please find it in your heart
On their behalf I now plead
Just give anything you can
For Children In Need
poem by Alex Daydream
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Story Teller
The story tellers
of different language
of different clothes
of different color
tells the same story
about the missing prince
in the palace.
People gathered around
and listen
to the story teller
who has the most beautiful face
and dressed like a princess.
One young man
dressed like a beggar
tells the same story
about the missing prince
in the palace
but no one came to listen.
Night comes
and the young man rides his horse
back to the palace
the young man...
is the missing prince.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Story For A Sweet Child
To a child who lives in a mansion
Where you be blessed with luxury
You are a child, so sweet, so sweet
You smile like an angel in pink
Child, dear sweet child
I am an old grandmother
Wretched not beloved
When there comes a time
I will tell you a story
A story of destruction
Destruction.
poem by Niji Chrys
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Floretty's Musical Contribution
All seemed delighted, though the elders more,
Of course, than were the children.--Thus, before
Much interchange of mirthful compliment,
The story-teller said _his_ stories 'went'
(Like a bad candle) _best_ when they went _out_,--
And that some sprightly music, dashed about,
Would _wholly_ quench his 'glimmer,' and inspire
Far brighter lights.
And, answering this desire,
The flutist opened, in a rapturous strain
Of rippling notes--a perfect April-rain
Of melody that drenched the senses through;--
Then--gentler--gentler--as the dusk sheds dew,
It fell, by velvety, staccatoed halts,
Swooning away in old 'Von Weber's Waltz.'
Then the young ladies sang 'Isle of the Sea'--
In ebb and flow and wave so billowy,--
Only with quavering breath and folded eyes
The listeners heard, buoyed on the fall and rise
Of its insistent and exceeding stress
Of sweetness and ecstatic tenderness ...
With lifted finger _yet_, Remembrance--List!--
'_Beautiful isle of the sea!_' wells in a mist
Of tremulous ...
... After much whispering
Among the children, Alex came to bring
Some kind of _letter_--as it seemed to be--
To Cousin Rufus. This he carelessly
Unfolded--reading to himself alone,--
But, since its contents became, later, known,
And no one '_plagued_ so _awful_ bad,' the same
May here be given--of course without full name,
Fac-simile, or written kink or curl
Or clue. It read:--
'Wild Roved an indian Girl
Brite al Floretty'
deer freind
I now take
*this* These means to send that _Song_ to you & make
my Promus good to you in the Regards
Of doing What i Promust afterwards,
the _notes_ & _Words_ is both here _Printed_ SOS
you *kin* can git _uncle Mart_ to read you *them* those
& cousin Rufus you can git to _Play_
the _notes_ fur you on eny Plezunt day
His Legul Work aint *Pressin* Pressing.
Ever thine
As shore as the Vine
doth the Stump intwine
thou art my Lump of Sackkerrine
Rinaldo Rinaldine
the Pirut in Captivity.
... There dropped
Another square scrap.--But the hand was stopped
That reached for it--Floretty suddenly
Had set a firm foot on her property--
Thinking it was the _letter_, not the _song_,--
But blushing to discover she was wrong,
When, with all gravity of face and air,
Her precious letter _handed_ to her there
By Cousin Rufus left her even more
In apprehension than she was before.
But, testing his unwavering, kindly eye,
She seemed to put her last suspicion by,
And, in exchange, handed the song to him.--
A page torn from a song-book: Small and dim
Both notes and words were--but as plain as day
They seemed to him, as he began to play--
And plain to _all_ the singers,--as he ran
An airy, warbling prelude, then began
Singing and swinging in so blithe a strain,
That every voice rang in the old refrain:
From the beginning of the song, clean through,
Floretty's features were a study to
The flutist who 'read _notes_' so readily,
Yet read so little of the mystery
Of that face of the girl's.--Indeed _one_ thing
Bewildered him quite into worrying,
And that was, noticing, throughout it all,
The Hired Man shrinking closer to the wall,
She ever backing toward him through the throng
Of barricading children--till the song
Was ended, and at last he saw her near
Enough to reach and take him by the ear
And pinch it just a pang's worth of her ire
And leave it burning like a coal of fire.
He noticed, too, in subtle pantomime
She seemed to dust him off, from time to time;
And when somebody, later, asked if she
Had never heard the song before--'What! _me?_'
She said--then blushed again and smiled,--
'I've knowed that song sence _Adam_ was a child!--
It's jes a joke o' this-here man's.--He's learned
To _read_ and _write_ a little, and its turned
His fool-head some--That's all!'
And then some one
Of the loud-wrangling boys said--'_Course_ they's none
No more, _these_ days!--They's Fairies _ust_ to be,
But they're all dead, a hunderd years!' said he.
'Well, there's where you're _mustakened_!'--in reply
They heard Bud's voice, pitched sharp and thin and high.--
'An' how you goin' to _prove_ it!'
'Well, I _kin_!'
Said Bud, with emphasis,--'They's one lives in
Our garden--and I _see_ 'im wunst, wiv my
Own eyes--_one_ time I did.'
'_Oh, what a lie_!'
--''_Sh!_''
'Well, nen,' said the skeptic--seeing there
The older folks attracted--'Tell us _where_
You saw him, an' all _'bout_ him!'
'Yes, my son.--
If you tell 'stories,' you may tell us one,'
The smiling father said, while Uncle Mart,
Behind him, winked at Bud, and pulled apart
His nose and chin with comical grimace--
Then sighed aloud, with sanctimonious face,--
''_How good and comely it is to see
Children and parents in friendship agree!_'--
You fire away, Bud, on your Fairy-tale--
Your _Uncle's_ here to back you!'
Somewhat pale,
And breathless as to speech, the little man
Gathered himself. And thus his story ran.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Story Of Life
The story of jesus
So easy to explain
After they crucified him,
A woman, she claimed his name
The story of jesus
The whole Bible knows
Went all across the desert
And in the middle, he found a rose
There should be no questions
There should be no lies
He was married ever happily after
All the tears we cry
No use in arguing
All the use to the man that moans
When each man falls in battle
His soul it has to roam
Angles of heaven
Flying saucers to some,
Made easter sunday
The name of the rising sun
The story is written
By so many people who dared,
To lay down the truth
To so very many who cared
To carry the cross
Of jesus and beyond
We will guide the light
This time with a woman in our arms
We as men
Cant explain the reason why
The womans always mentioned
At the moment that we die
All we know
Is God is by our side,
And he says the word
So easy yet so hard
I wish not to be alone,
So I must respect my other heart
Oh, the story
Of jesus is the story
Of you and me
No use in feeling lonely,
I am searching to be free
The story
Of life is quicker
Than the wink of an eye
The story of love
Is hello and goodbye
Until we meet again
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life Story
Dont want to stay here
Not very nice
You boiled me over
Now youre cold as ice
>from what you gave me
To what you made me
I should be homeward bound
Why am I hangin round knowing
Youre life story began with somebody else
Find your glory out there with somebody else
Ill be where you find me
Ill be somebody else
Somebody else
Dog in the manger
Teller of lies
I see a stranger laughing in your eyes
Though I dont know how
Im in the way now
No matter what you do
I go on loving you knowing
Your life story began with somebody else
Find your glory out there with somebody else
Ill be where you find me
Ill be somebody else
Deeper than your valleys
Longer than your memory
I got to your storys end
Your life story began with somebody else
Find your glory out there with somebody else
Ill be where you find me
Ill be somebody else
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I do have a stunt double because there are certain things that they won't let me do. Like they won't set fire to me. They won't like let me jump off a 20 story building. There are certain big stunts that it's just impossible to get insurance to let me do, but for the most part I'd say I do probably 75% of my stuff.
quote by Alex O'Loughlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Always expect the unexpected. Right around Thanksgiving, when the new Alex Cross will be out. It's called Four Blind Mice and it's a pretty amazing story about several murders inside the military.
quote by James Patterson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The M & M Candy Telephone
The M & M Candy Telephone
The device is switched to mute.
Not a sound comes from
the Raisin Bran guys except
for the pre-programmed
visual message on the LCD screen.
When the receiver flashes
instead of ringing
the Venus de Milo deodorant statue
doesn't move an arm
to pick up the handset.
~~~
Alex Nodopaka Feb©2010
AD Something
poem by Alex Nodopaka
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Just Another Story
Father comes home cos his moneys run out -
Seems a little loose tonight, he starts to shout.
Dinners not on the table, seems mothers not able,
Shes staring at the tv.
You can smell it on his breath, feel it in his touch,
He never meant to hit her hard, but hes like that when hes had too much.
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
Well the kids at school, shes getting good grades,
But the peer pressures starting now - too bad, she had it made.
Seems theres always someone trying to push you to do something, you know, aint
The way they told you to -
Its hard to see
The things you taught her, how to be, its like you told her nothing, selective
Memory.
Come on try it, its just a smoke, aint gonna kill you, so she takes a toke -
Fade to grey.
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
Well the guys at work seemed ok, theyd buy you a drink, get you laid, whats
Wrong with that?
Whyd they have more money than you, expensive cars, expensive clothes, dyou
Ever think of what they do?
At night theyre out, shakin people down, when theyre walking together seems
They own the town.
But hey, whos gonna talk, you are their alibi, dont turn around, dont ask
Questions, just walk -
Its just another story bout going too far,
Its just another story bout going too far.
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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