Years are magnifying Glass
the years are
magnifying glass
throw the years
talents, throw
the years paintings
poems, written works
a van gogh, an emily,
a leonardo, a cave painting
the most unknown works
the years would come back
with a vision whether the works
are of class, taste and great
to hold onto for posterity
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
The Tenants Of The Little Box
Throw into the little box
A stone
You'll take out a bird
Throw in your shadow
You'll take out the shirt of happiness
Throw in your father's root
You'll take out the axle of the universe
The little box works for you
Throw into the little box
A mouse
You'll take out a quaking hill
Throw in your head
You'll take out two
The little box works for you
poem by Vasko Popa
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She Works Hard For The Money
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Onetta there in the corner stand
and wonders where she is and
it's strange to her
some people seem to have everything
Nine a.m. on the hour hand
and she's waiting for the bell
and she's looking real pretty
just wait for her clientele
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
Twenty five years have
come and gone
and she' seen a lot of tears
of the ones who come in
they really seem to need her there
It's a sacrifice working day to day
for little money just tips for pay
But it's worth it all
just to hear them say that they care
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She already knows
she's seen her bad times
she already knows
these are the good times
She'll never sell out
she never will
not for a dollar bill
she works hard
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
She works hard for the money
so hard for it honey
she works hard for the money
so you better treat her right
song performed by by Donna Summer from The Donna Summer Anthology
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Life is pretty simple: You do some stuff. Most fails. Some works. You do more of what works. If it works big, others quickly copy it. Then you do something else. The trick is the doing something else.
quote by Leonardo da Vinci
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rewrites
there are works that wont be finished
after a thousand rewrites
the mind holds a larger sky
the years glide like the leaves
in the flame of autumn
and you hold the thought that
the pastiche of thoughts can look
a better season with time
like how wine matures
There are works that wont be finished
after a thousand rewrites
and after years that glide away
like leaves blasting the red of autumn
you hold the thought that the pastiche
of your thoughts can look
better than it should
There are works that won't be finished
after a thousand rewrites
the years glide away
like red leaves blasting autumn
your mind turns and turns and
you still find a larger sky coming your way
to improve the flow of your verses
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Last Years Man
The rain falls down on last years man,
Thats a jews harp on the table,
Thats a crayon in his hand.
And the corners of the blueprint are ruined since they rolled
Far past the stems of thumbtacks
That still throw shadows on the wood.
And the skylight is like skin for a drum Ill never mend
And all the rain falls down amen
On the works of last years man.
I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark
Oh one by one she had to tell them
That her name was joan of arc.
I was in that army, yes I stayed a little while;
I want to thank you, joan of arc,
For treating me so well.
And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight;
All these wounded boys you lie beside,
Goodnight, my friends, goodnight.
I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived;
Bethlehem the bridegroom,
Babylon the bride.
Great babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me,
And bethlehem inflamed us both
Like the shy one at some orgy.
And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil
That I had to draw aside to see
The serpent eat its tail.
Some women wait for jesus, and some women wait for cain
So I hang upon my altar
And I hoist my axe again.
And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began
When jesus was the honeymoon
And cain was just the man.
And we read from pleasant bibles that are bound in blood and skin
That the wilderness is gathering
All its children back again.
The rain falls down on last years man,
An hour has gone by
And he has not moved his hand.
But everything will happen if he only gives the word;
The lovers will rise up
And the mountains touch the ground.
But the skylight is like skin for a drum Ill never mend
And all the rain falls down amen
On the works of last years man.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Through The Years
Longing to sail on
Through the night to the stars
On until sunrise
Where the moon hides her tears
All through the years
If I could see the world through someone elses eyes
If I could see through you would I cast you to one side
And if you gave it all would I throw it all away
Like the leaves in autumn winds
From the window in the kitchen
To the fireside by the chair
Sat in familiar surroundings warm night air
Under the bridges that were burning
Before we reached the other side
All the feelings I remember I cannot hide
Not for want of trying
And if you held me here would the moment fade away
Into obscurity like the night becomes the day
For all the broken promises tell me where do I begin
To throw my caution to the wind
Longing to sail on
Through the night to the stars
On until sunrise
Where the moon hides her tears
All through the years
All through the years all through the years
All through the years all through the years
All through the years all through the years
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wasted Works
For years I sat at my desk,
writing words no one wanted to hear.
Wasted works of love,
with each page overflowing
with sunshine and pain.
They made a lovely bonfire,
to keep me warm when winter came.
The flames licked at every word,
that my pen had written.
When fire was finished
I dug a hole, and put the ashes in.
Finally covering them with earth,
buried those wasted works within.
poem by David Harris
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After you've done a thing the same way for two years, look it over carefully. After five years, look at it with suspicion. And after ten years, throw it away and start all over.
quote by Alfred Edward Perlman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like Centaurs
The fluid works for years and years and more,
This concentrates my time with you this time,
I carefully see twice, my right and crime,
They work together like ambassador.
Arms fully die, like what is there before,
Legs march once those who march can come and climb
Like those before, as fast as any longtime,
We search tonight, then wonder anymore.
Like centaurs many ride the plains for food,
These creatures time their tracks once they fetch it,
They warn and read the dangers so distinct.
My fluid works in ways that continued,
The creature cries just like one hypocrite,
This means my living just is all extinct!
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Dead End
THE DEAD END
The dead end
The road no longer open
Years to live
With nothing to do in them.
So many years wasted writing my works
No one will ever want them
More and more the sense
No one should.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Our Times
Our Times
13.7 billion years ago
4.5 billion years ago
3.5 billion years ago
200 thousand years ago
10,000 years ago
5000 years ago
3500 years ago
1800 years ago
500 years ago
50 years ago
One hundred years from now
Five hundred years from now
Ten million years from now
Ten billion years from now
We are where we are now
Where are we now?
Who are we now?
What will we be?
When?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Four Years Old
Hey
Why'd you wake me from my nap?
I'm not in the mood
To play your games
Or sit on your lap
You
Where's my Yankees drinking glass?
I want some juice
And I want it now
So you better move your ass
And feel bad for me
'Cuz I'm just getting over a cold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Somebody better tie my shoes!
Now
I run down the hall
I scream and I yell
And I cry 'cuz I fell
Bring the rubbing alcohol
Outside
I get mud on my shoe
I come back in the house
I get it on the rug
The cleanging's up to you
And I won't take a bath
Unless you make me Spaghetti-O's
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Mommy reads to me at night
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Well
I can't have a job
And I can't go to school
If no grownups are around
I can't go near the pool
I'm not alowed to climb
My neighbor's apple tree
I'm not allowed to sit
Too close to the TV
I don't know how to drive
And I don't know how to spell
But if I hear my brother cursing
I do know how to tell
'Cuz he made me eat some bread
That was covered in mold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I just threw up on my grandmother
song performed by by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After I Am Dead They Will Not Discover Me
After I am dead
They will not discover me
They have seen enough of my work-
To know now
It is without the miracle and mystery of Greatness
I have written for years many works
And the world has had many chances
To be enthusiastic-
There is too much evidence against me-
As in life I was not great
So in death I will not be
Still I pray I have done the work
God has given me to do.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I'm William Shakespeare
I’m born in April,1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon
I’m 100 miles northwest of London
I’m According to the records of Stratford's Holy Trinity Church
I’m baptized on April 26
I’m traditional birth date April 23rd, St. George's day
I’m married Anne Hathaway on November 27,1582
I’m 18; Anne was 26, eight years older than me.
I’m Susanna was born around May 26,1583; twins, Hamnet and Judith, were born around February 2,1585.
I’m likely educated at the grammar school in Stratford from the age of six or seven.
I’m published my first poem, 'Venus and Adonis, ' in 1593. I then wrote 154 poems and 37 plays, and my fame has only increased with time.
I’m recognized as one of the greatest writers of all time, known for works like 'Hamlet, ' 'Much Ado About Nothing, ' 'Romeo and Juliet, ' 'Othello, ' 'The Tempest, ' and many other works.
I’m With the 154 poems and 37 plays of my literary career, my body of works are among the most quoted in literature. I created comedies, histories, tragedies, and poetry. Despite the authorship controversies that have surrounded my works, the name of my continues to be revered by scholars and writers from around the world
I’m William Shakespeare
poem by Valya Madden
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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The performances of my works in the last 10 years are probably equal to all the previous years put together. There are so many venues now and there is a completely new public for opera that's grown up outside of the traditional core opera public.
quote by Carlisle Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Look At The Time That I Have Wasted Years Ago
i feel like a frozen glass filled with water in the freezer
when i look back to all the years that i have wasted
doing the things where i can never put my best
because that is what father want me to be
i leave all the traces of what i love in those years
that still ask me where i am
where i live what i have been doing lately
when they heard that i am into law they all laughed
and then sighed
that is not the name that they first know me
they have a word for me
written in the poems that i once wrote
my name was lust and love all bound together
in one piece
my name was written in the cover book of the literature book
in the maiden issues
of the poetry collections of lilia and tita
i look back again and they all raise their hands back
as though to embrace me
back into their bosoms again
they are calling my name
you are poetry.please come back to us.
i know the reason why i am sad.
i have forgotten my real name.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Years 1
For years I let the torment go on
Years I let you get in my head
Years I had to cry myself to sleep
your out now and last night
what you did to me replayed in my head again
I told myself i wasn't going to let it happen but it did
For years I have lived in scared quarters
For years I have looked for your face
For years I have never felt safe
For years I have remembered
poem by Marissa Ford
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O...what...?
women are
works...
with over the world...
very heary hard...
men also works...
but womens works many...
in house...
in office....
in others...
all wys womens
works...
over then men...
with vey hard works...
but...
money earn
men will bee high
women will bee low...
what is this...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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