En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Mixed Fruit

Why should I paint you a full picture,
When the giving of a scent will provide the hint...
Of every detail.
Saving me time.
And,
Additional words to attempt to define...
What you should already know.
Life is becomong more like a bowl of mixed fruit.

I don't care what language it is you speak.
And a picture may paint a thousand words.
I've heard all of that before.
But if you can not smell what is in the air today,
And you are needing an interpreter...
There is more than delusions going on inside your head.
A numbing of it is what I would suggest.
Do not waste a cent on seeking help.

The tasting is in the pudding.
And the freshness of the fruit can not be guaranteed.
But what is evident...
Those making attempts to influence with control,
Are the ones out of their minds.
And time is the teacher that will present that lesson.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If

If a picture paints a thousand words,
Then why cant I paint you?
The words will never show
The you Ive come to know
If a face could launch a thousand ships,
Then where am I to go?
Theres no one home but you,
Youre all thats left me too
And when my love for life is running dry,
You come and pour yourself on me
If I could be two places at one time,
Id be with you
Tomorrow and today,
Beside you all the way
If the world should stop revolving
Spinning slowly down to die,
Id spend the end with you
And when the world was through,
Then one by one the stars would all go out,
Then you and I would simply fly away
If a picture paints a thousand words,
Then why cant I paint you?
'Cause the words could never show
The you Ive come to know
And one by one the stars will all go out,
But you and I will simply fly away
We'll fly away

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paint My Love

From my youngest years
till this moment here
I've never seen
such a lovely queen

From the skies above
to the deepest love
I've never felt
crazy like this before

Paint my love
you should paint my love
it's the picture of a thousand sunsets
it's the freedom of a thousand doves
Baby you should paint my love

Been around the world
then I met you girl
It's like comming home
to a place I've known

Paint my love
you should paint my love
it's the picture of a thousand sunsets
it's the freedom of a thousand doves
Baby you should paint my love

Since you came into my life
the days before all fade to black and white
Since you came into my life
Everything has changed

song performed by by Michael Learns To Rock from Paint My Love
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Only Paint The Picture Once

(Teddy Gentry/Randy Owen/Ronnie Rogers/Greg Fowler)
Look at those evening shadows
Casting a peaceful light
The sun is disappearing
It's a beautiful sight
Moments caught forever
By the master's touch
A lasting reminder
To us
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
Love is the canvas
That's where it all starts
A lifetime together
Becomes a work of art
Just look what's been created
Between your heart and mine
Oh I believe that we're one of a kind
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
It's a portrait of life
You can't live it twice
You only paint the picture once

song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If

(david gates)
If a picture paints a thousand words
Then why cant I paint you
The words will never show
The you Ive come to know
If a face could launch a thousand ships
Then where am I to go
Theres no one home but you
Youre all thats left me too
And when my love for life is running dry
Youll come and pour yourself on me
If a girl could be two places at one time
Id be with you
Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way
If the world should stop revolving
Spinning slowly down to die
Id spend the end with you
And when the world was through
Then one by one the stars would all go out
Then you and I would simply fly away

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Each Word May Have A Multiple Definition

We must not protest,
Thoughtlessly...
The pre-sweetened taste,
Of truth...
That has been fed to mask the naturalness.
Set it aside.
But do not eagerly digest it!

And once that is done,
Everyone should at least get an opportunity...
To at least eat the fruit that has been peeled.
And not throw it away in belief it is not nutritional.
These are new days.
We must save the contents of the 'book' and cover.
Using everything to comprehend intentions.

In other words,
Even deceptions are viable.
And can effect the overall affects of understanding!
Remember...
A picture can paint a thousand words.
However each word used,
May have a multiple definition.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constant Time

Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,

Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?

Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,

By: ade

poem by Adeniran Oluokun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Devil You Were

I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything you say
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed

Because no other girl has been here since you left
and for no other girl have I shead a tear, I'm all cried out I have none left
cause I know you love to think that you took them all
but they were gone long before
for you I didn't watch a single one fall, I was never alive I was already dead
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and I paint it red
I paint it red
the colour of blood shows that it is already dead

I keep telling myself that I don't need you
but you keep whispering in my ear telling me that I do
and I believe you
I believe everything is red
even though it was everything you said
I paint the picture of you on my white ceiling when I'm lying alone in my bed
and it is all red
he paints it red
my picture of his horns it shows its now never dead.

poem by Daniel McCann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Edge Of Beauty...

wherein lies the edge of beauty?
of true expression?
be there more truth
in a picture of fruit....
or a picture of the eyes
of a starving child?
be there more love
in an ancient picture of Jesus,
or the picture of an addict,
shaking on a stoop?
be there more reality
in numbed words carefully written,
or in the story of the evicted family,
penned in raw blood?
be there more beauty
in a picture of supposed angels,
or in a tasteful nude?
be there more freedom
in a picture of the revolution,
or in a photo of freedom's protesters,
being beaten by cops?
be there more justice
in the books you burned,
or in the ones you actually read?
be there more spirituality
in the religious head turned,
or in the sensual bathed in awe?
be there more god in the silent follower,
or in the one who dares to speak?

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Empty Picture Frame

An empty picture frame sits upon my desk
Where once upon a time a picture in it did rest
But now the frame stands lifeless and bare
Now it reminds me of a love that once was there.
As in the past the picture brought me happiness and joy
Gave me the reason to live and to write my story
To glance upon and dream of when no one was near
To speak the words of love when them she couldn't hear.
But when she left me I threw her picture away
But I kept that frame to remind me of that day
In remembrance of what she did in and out of my sight
As she was my candle but she blew out that light
So that picture frame I keep it in my plain view
So every time I see it I know what to say and what to do
As once upon a time her picture was in the frame
But now picture is gone but the memories still remain.

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Author's Inspiration

My fingers do not type the words on the page; they do not draw delusions on a thin piece of white lined paper. They are not meant for the works of art to be used and unworthy for. My fingers are worthy enough to paint pictures inside your cognizance, more than painting a paintless sheet that means nothing to me. My fingers work as if every picture I paint in my mind, inspires them to write the unwritten page, to make it a master piece. But not every inspiration inside my mind, will take merely a second to create. It takes time, patience, and art to smear the writings onto a page. Author inspiration is from what comes from the heart; deep and dark, inspring and light - it's as if it was left inside its cage. No freedom, no light, no darkness, no being of a creature that the render of the paper, simply gave up on inspiring the little ones'. It's as if this mere creature was left within a white blank world. No colors to paint, no words to express. An author inspiration is formed when they see or hear other works of art, whether it's music to their ears, movies they wish to be in, life and feelings that they feel or positioned in, or other writings that they write something else about - but as an inspiration from them. An inspiration can be from anything from the outside world, from what happens inside one's life, to what creates such imagination within one's thoughts that coats the page with color and creativity. Anyone can be talented. Anyone can have an inspiration. You just have to feel and be it.

poem by Alicia Meyers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forbidden Fruit

all the forbidden fruit I ever
dreamt of--or was taught to
resist and fear--ripens and
blossoms under the palms of my
hands as they uncover and explore
you--and in the most secret
corners of my heart as it discovers
and adores you--the forbidden fruit
of forgiveness--the forbidden fruit
of finally feeling the happiness
you were afraid you didn't deserve--
the forbidden fruit of my life's labor
--the just payment I have avoided
since my father taught me how--
the forbidden fruit of the secret
language of our survivors' souls as
they unfold each others secret
ballots--the ones where we voted
for our first secret desires to come
true--there's so much more
I want to say to you--but for
the first time in my life I'm at
a loss for words--because
(I understand at last)
I don't need them
to be heard by you.

Submitted by Venus

poem by Michael Lally
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Speak easy

Ever had so much to say but cannot find the words, when you do you just do not have the nerve.

Waste time, time wasted over what might be said, conversations played out only in your head.

Silence is golden so they say, time keeps ticking its running away.

Never runs back just out of control, do soul searching to find the know.

The words you find seam just too few, say nothing at all keep it in you.

If spoken aloud could set you free, there inside, somewhere in me.

Maybe a magician could bring it to light, maybe a strong man to fight this fight.

Speak easy when spoken, say it so clear, I fear, these words, never hear.

The less you speak the more that is herd, screaming out loud not saying a word.

Speak easy to you, few words need say, speak easy to me, time slipping away.

poem by Gary Kedron
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Don't Have To Paint Me A Picture

The kiss was colder than I remember
When we first said hello
I guess the flame's now a little lower
I can feel you letting go
You know the pain drops a little darker
Then when you first put it on
I guess your love's like some old cheap and magic marker
Said forever nice go
But you don't have to paint me a picture
You don't have to say things at all
You don't have to paint me a picture
I can see in the writing on the wall
When we first fell, we fell a long way
Summer nights and winter days
Mountain sunrise, ocean sunset
Hand in hand in the haze
Now it's cold heart summer evenings
And there's clouds on my sunrise
But you don't have to smile and say you're happy
I can see what's in your eyes
You don't have to paint me a picture
You don't have to say things at all
You don't have to paint me a picture
I can see in the writing on the wall

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ode to Music

An Ode to Music

You don't words to touch my soul,
You don't words to bring light into my life,
You don't words to paint a picture,
You don't words to make me think of home.

You are a great leveller talking to kings and paupers alike,
You give people identity,
You can unite us,
You can give us hope.

You are as old as humanity itself,
You are always evolving with us,
You can show us our past,
You can show us our future.

You can inspire us to dream,
You can change the future,
You document our lives,
You can drive darkness out of our hearts.

You are a great force for good,
You can help liberate people,
You are mankind's greatest gift,
You could bring unity to mankind if we just listened to you.

You are perhaps my greatest love,
You are there for every occasion,
You are there for the happy times,
You are there for the great tragedies of life.

You can define time and eras,
You can define a man's life like nothing else,
You are the life-blood of me,
You are like the alpha and omega there at the beginning and at the end.

By Christopher Tye

poem by Christopher Tye
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You In My Poem

If I could paint a picture
and do it in a poem
I'd use beautiful colors
to brighten up my home.
My words would form a heart
so that I could view
all the beauty I feel you are
and how I picture you.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rainpictures On Glass Canvass...

Watching th' ever sadness, of th' rain....am i
Listening to it speak......between its torrents
On winded wings it strikes defenseless sod
Yet, thru these window panes of fog'n streak
I open th' Pandora's Box....natures teary fall

Water paint images streak th' clouded glass
Like an abstract, surrealistic...faux-pas finish
Streetlights, like spotlite...on a fresh Picabia
Before my watchful mind, th' picture changes
Kaleidoscopic lines invent.....with criss-cross

Some say: ''a picture paints a thousand words''
If true, th' artistry of rain, paint thousands more
Radiance of window panes adorned in nature
And, on th' other side...a smiling child marvels
With fingers pressed on fogged glass canvass

poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today I Died Again

The human drum
Beats a rhythm of life
The clothes he wears
Date back to the war
He talks alot
Often to himself
She dont say much
Just cuts his hair
She cant remember
Before the heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Towers in sand
America can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Back to a year
Back to a youth
Of men in church and drug cabarets
Is this the age
Of empires and dance
Oh what a world
Oh what a world
She cant remember
Before this heat
He cant remember
His wifes christian name
Paint me a picture
Bodies in sand
Presidents can fall
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Today I died again
I died again
I died today
Lyrics : j kerr music : simple minds (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission

song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disrespect Can Not Be Erased

If one needs to ask...
If their actions done,
Has offended someone.
What would they comprehend,
If an inability to acknowledge...
A deed that has gone into effective mode,
Is inappropriate?

That is comparable,
To someone consistently late for anything.
And although alibis and excuses are made...
The disrespect can not be erased.
It escalates until an irritation building fades away,
Everything heard coming out of an empty head.
What more can be said?

One can not use a thumb-tack,
To affix a picture to a steel wall.
No matter how many words that picture may paint,
To deliver a message to be digested.
It is best not to try to over-simplify,
What is never going to be understood!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Whither Thy Art, Man?

Yes, men and women, paint their eyelashes,
And dye their hair in hues and paint their nails;
And wear head-bands, multi-colored sashes,
And paint the tortoises and shells of snails.

Some paint their bodies fully or one-half;
Some paint their country’s flag over their face;
Some look like leopards, lions, clowns that laugh;
Some tattoo pictures or paint words so base.

Some paint their naked bodies as if dressed
Or apply stickers of men, Gods or beast;
Their art on human skins looks to them best
And dance in ritual for a sumptuous feast.

The art of man has gone so crazy now,
For men paint Dogs, cats, cattle, also cow.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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English Language

The English language it contains thousands of words
Which includes nouns, adjectives, constants and verbs
Structuring them together to create novels or speeches
So we can speak or read or listen while a teacher teaches
And of those thousands words that we have at our command
Some are the few words that decent people have banned
Sadly those few words most people use to swear and to curse
They are crude, coarse and obscene which are used alone or in a verse.

The English language contains thousands of words
Which equals to the stars in the sky or the multitude of birds
They are used in conversation and to define who we are
Words are the building blocks from a vast reservoir
But then we have those few words that are very crude
People use them to hurt or to insult and also to be lewd
Judge a book by its cover and the people by the words they use
When we speak, speak with caution and ponder and then be a muse.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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