In The Light Of A Dream
After such a mad dash through the
minutiae of adrenaline-driven reactions
in a fantasy world seen from a teenage
perspective - and denied the pleasure
of reading book 3 as my daughter is
still busy with it
I am left with ashes, the fires of the
characters' play-house emotions burnt
out leaving the reader with nothing to
take on our various versions of Pilgrim's
Progress, the excessively handsome
protagonists gone
Their artificial emotions in response to angels
and demons in conflict, their superficial life-
threatening injuries which heal immediately
showing no correlation with reality - left no
imprint on my psyche, wrought no changes
in my ideas and feelings
No catharsis experienced, a meaningless
romp through an imaginary world where
the storybook interactions of the super-
human characters are woven through
the tale like a silver chord shining in
the limelight of adjectives
The theatrical effect adorned with strobe
lights and applause and afterwards there
is nothing to take along, nothing changed
in my world view - since my purpose is to
understand society's shortcomings and
finding ways to change these
I resume my quest albeit with a sigh, escapism
is such an addictive drug, such a wonderful
thing, a moment of repose in the light of a
dream for which there is always space
according to quantum physics with its
postulate of infinities
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
In Shadows to Escape
After players have left the stage,
And the lights with excitement have dimmed...
On terrific performances given by them.
Cast away are masks adorned...
With emotions to address,
And no shoulder for one wished to lean on!
The ensemble finishes...
To scramble and move on!
Applause and ovations,
Given and received.
Actors breathing life...
Into characters believed!
And the curtain call is finished...
To leave a packed house emptied and cleared!
As a cigarette is lit,
To silhouette not happiness but regret.
Accompanied by tears!
This 'star' left living in a reality...
Unscripted and unspoken,
Unsuspected...
Or thought to conceive.
Walks to sit on a barren stage...
Unrehearsed to collect a peace of mind,
Cherished to protect away from an allotted time.
In shadows...
To escape a crowding maze.
And those who could pick moments to critique!
Or question why blocking seen,
Is kept restfully discreet!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Heat Of Feelings - Life's Vertices (Revised)
Life becomes senseless without dreams - the one
thing left, testing ideals by doing the opposite,
discovering alternatives that do not work, breaking
every rule to determine meaning
Pain for long-term gain is the only way to live happily;
humanity the sole religious authority whose embedded
ideals are fine as long as we're not forced to follow
teachings - I dream about miracles, read how
Quantum physics explains all forms of spiritualism,
how consciousness creates physical phenomena
supposedly only perceived, how a wise mind can
present inherently beautiful ideas conceptually
Cynicism kills optimism by abstract abhorrence; life's
value rides upon rays of insight colouring the world
with tinctures of feelings and emotions, created
intrigues, but won't change inner traits
Musing as I climb life's vertices, falling into ravines of
self-pity and failed self-esteem, trapped in the doldrums
of hum-drum routines eating my brain-circuits - only a
variety of constructed, carefully protected ideals
to keep me going….
[ORIGINAL: ]
Heat of Feelings
One thing left: the ideal tested by doing the
opposite, discovering alternative does not
work, breaking every rule to determine
meaning - life becomes senseless
without dreams
Sacrifice for long-term gain the only way to live
happily, humanity is the only religious authority
I love the ideals embedded therein as long as
we are not forced to follow their teaching, I
dream about
Miracles, read how quantum physics explains all
forms of spiritualism, how consciousness creates
physical phenomena supposedly only perceived,
a wise mind presents inherently beautiful ideas
wonderfully
A cynic destroys idealism by employing abhorrent
concepts; life's value depends upon light of insight
colouring the world with the heat of feelings and
emotions create intrigues but can't change
inner traits
Musing as I climb life's steep mountain, falling into
ravines of self-pity and fears of no self-esteem,
caught in the doldrums caused by never-ending
hum-drum routines which sabotage all my
brain-circuits
Only a variety of constructed, carefully protected
ideals to keep me going…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Unseen Academicals- 22/11/09
Pratchett’s Unseen Academicals was a
joy from beginning to end, the author is
a prince among men
Ridiculed fashion items like six-inch
stiletto heels and all kinds of bling,
empty-headed models
Remunerated exorbitantly for glittering
while toiling labourers doing necessary
things are paid next-to-nothing
Pratchett’s depiction of the Discworld
is bathed in a golden light of happiness
everybody joyously engaged
In activities normally depicted as unmitigated
Misery; does Pratchett realize how much the
positive attitude of his main characters
Contrast with his cynical omnipresent narrator
perspective, does he see the juxtaposition
between two aspects
His protagonists acting with integrity and his blasé
narrative voice, the dualism must cause a war
in his mind – verily, I suspect
That is happening at present, while Pratchett is
telling a world-weary tale of human nature, his
characters are presenting a morality play
He cannot subdue them, cannot force decadence
on his characters, they are whiter than snow –
how much does this irk him?
I would love to know...
Terry Pratchett ‘Unseen Academicals’ Doubleday 2009
poem by Margaret Alice
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Does God There Us Await?
perceive the cosmos
is grounded pervaded
by mind intelligence
perceive Quantum Theory
denies the concept
reality the world
is composed of objects
whose existence
is independent
of human consciousness
quantum mechanics
facts established by
precise experiments
decrees key to reality
reality is state of mind
quantum mechanics
decrees basic components
of objects particles
electrons quarks
are not 'self-existent'
quantum physics
decrees 'ultimate reality'
exists but is not
embedded in space time
therefore in what
form reality will we exist?
beyond this life pod
illusion when we shed
body matter restraint
step outside space time
into limitless eternity
does God there us await?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Open
Here there is nothing but open,
Nothing but pure space,
Nothing but a void of unknown.
In this place the only thing that exists in the mind,
Is what is made true through the spirit,
And actions made by the body.
In a world so empty and cold,
There is nothing to live for,
Yet at the same time nothing to die for.
Here, you just are,
You do not live or die or believe,
You just are.
It’s unimaginable to the worlds that surround,
A figment of a child’s imagination, maybe.
Abandoned over the years.
Maybe this place is the creation of a tired author,
Who has nothing to write, only characters without purpose,
No ideas left to create a solid world.
A lonely widow, perhaps,
With no one to please or be with,
Only an empty house filled with empty memories.
Or even a retired soldier,
Not wanting to live through the pain and dreams,
Creating a world so empty, so predictable, nothing could go wrong.
A mother who has lost their child,
Who goes from day to day following suit,
Wishing it was them instead of their baby who left the world.
The blackness of this world is unlike any other,
A simple world that is pure impurities,
Simple complexity.
Like the worlds we make for ourselves to escape to,
When our own reality becomes more than we can handle, less than we expect,
A world we can slip off to silently screaming.
A bright place of darkness,
A never ending end to what we live everyday,
A single lie that we live with as if it were true.
A world that is everything and nothing,
Completely incomplete,
Written and unwritten.
Open.
By: Bethany Maxwell
(c) September 29,2010
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Moment To Moment
Written by gerry beckley and phil galdston, 1998
Found on human nature.
There was a time I knew
All that there was to know
No one could tell me then
I was wrong
I wasnt strong enough
To see where my weakness lay
The world that you hold so tight
Could slip away
And from moment to moment
Your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
A sea no one can see
Somewhere around the bend
Right when you least expect
Someone can walk away
With no regret
Leaving an empty space
Breaking a sacred trust
All of your shiny dreams
Begin to rust
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
The sea you cannot see
Yes from moment to moment
Promise me youll never change
Promise me youll stay the same
Promise me youll never change
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a storm over the horizon
A sea youll never see
Yes from moment to moment your life can change
Theres a light when the sun is rising
A day after today
Promise me youll never change (promise me youll never change)
Promise me youll stay the same (the same)
Promise me youll never change
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
Every moment is a shining light
Every moment is the darkest night
Every moment gotta get it right
Every single moment
(fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imaginary
The imaginary power takes over the world, and the people in it.
Making minute things important, and important things unnecessary.
And so the world turns.
The imaginary status places and artificial happiness over the world, and the people in it.
Creating avoidable conflicts to arise at new magnitudes.
And so the world turns.
The imaginary wealth controls the world, and the people in it.
Presenting new desirable ideas to replace the already insufficient ones.
And so the world turns.
The imaginary need drives selfishness in the world, and the people in it.
Allowing happiness, fear, and lust to lead their lives.
And so the world turns.
This world is unfortunately not imaginary,
Going day to day with imaginary things at the center of the lives of all.
Soon the world will no longer turn.
poem by Kaitlin Schmidt
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The trite answer is that everything is true but none of it happened. It is emotionally true, but the events, the plotting, the narrative, isn't true of my life, though I've experienced most of the emotions experienced by the characters in the play.
quote by Patrick Marber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nevertheless, all of us who work in quantum physics believe in the reality of a quantum world, and the reality of quantum entities like protons and electrons.
quote by John Polkinghorne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damien
Things are done that I just don't understand
There's hardly no time left for the average young man
Works his arse off 'til his blue in the face
Drugged with hope so he can keep up the pace
And soon he joins the unemployed
Where all hope and ambition are destroyed
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
A situation that I don't understand
A desperation that just got out of hand
He didn't realize what steps he should take
He didn't realize that his life was at stake
He left us thinking yet again
Another passing of a friend
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
For you and me
Damien.
A contemplation left much to late
A deliberation we all left to fate
We didn’t understand the role we should play
We ignored the facts hoping they would simply fade away
He left us thinking yet again
Another passing of a friend
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
For you and me
Damien.
Copyright Colin Coplin 1984/2010
poem by Colin Coplin
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Heart Break
I don't understand how to begin,
how to stop my life from this slow death.
I tried to conceal it, to make believe
that I'm okay. But the more I am deprived of it,
the more it harms me anyway.
How effortlessly she let go off,
how fast she changed. While here
I'm feeling hurt, she chose to hurt.
I pleaded her to change,
to be more responsive and sensitive of my emotions.
But she chose to be who she is. Because I love her,
it didn't matter. Instead of complaining,
I chose to believe it.
Now I'm here all alone,
asking myself where I went south.
I've been sympathetic to all her shortcomings,
trying to believe that's how she is.
But still here I am, hurting and breaking.
I want to let go and move on,
but still I'm waiting and wondering
if she might understand.
Every night I want my next day without heavy feelings,
crossing my fingers that
the whole thing is unreal.
This night is finishing
and so is our heartbreaking story;
now I'm here writing this open letter to my life.
One day you will be all right,
and all this will just be one more tale.
poem by Nikhil Chandwani
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Through the artists eyes
The world reflected
In the authors eyes
Shall be as beautiful or tragic
As the emotions interpreted
In the verse of the inspired
Flowing almost timeless
A world beyond what’s real
A fantasy often shared
The dream interpreted
By the words which flow
A tale may be woven
Or a thought put into place
By the words when spoken
Through the artists eyes
How the world is seen
Can be more beautiful
Or more heartbreaking
When written
Through the artists eyes
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Limelight
(alan parsons/ eric woolfson)
Producer for bonnie: stephan power
I can see the glow
Of the distant sun
I can feel it inside
Maybe this day
Could be the one
I can hear the roar
Of the distant crowd
They are waiting for me
Calling my name
Shouting out loud
Limelight
You were all I ever wanted, since it all began
Limelight
Shining on me, telling the world who I am
Oh, limelight
Dont let me slip right through you fingers
Theres along way to fall
After all the years of waiting
Im going to show them all
I can see the world
In a different light
Now its easy to say
Where I went wrong
What I did right
Holding on isnt always easy
I am gonna change my mind
Limelight
You were all I ever wanted, since it all began
Limelight
Shining on me, telling the world who I am
Oh, limelight
Dont let me slip right through you fingers
Theres along way to fall
(instrumental)
Limelight
You were all I ever wanted, since it all began
Limelight
Shining on me, telling the world who I am
Yeah, limelight
Dont let me slip right through you fingers
Theres along way to fall
Maybe the roads not easy
Im gonna show them all
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost In A Book
SHHH!
don't bother me
I'm lost in a book
mixed up with
the complicated plots
and outrageous characters
when i'm lost in a book
I don't have to think
about my life
I'll get stuck in
a fantasy world
and never
have to come back
home again
one book
after another
I read, read, read
different places
different people
a new world
I start fresh
each time
I open up a new book
when i'm lost in a book
I am safe
no one can hurt me
I'm happy
when I'm lost
in a book
poem by Annie Janine
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A Mirror Image
How many times when reading a book,
do we identify with the characters within?
Their traits they have we share,
their loves and heartaches
their lives go through somehow mirror our own.
It’s as if the author was writing about us.
As though he has put us under a microscope
and then writing down everything, he saw.
However, we know this isn’t so
because he or she has written
segments of their own life
and by accident they happen to mirror ours.
Every writer will tell you
that they have their characters under control.
Having written numerous novels,
I know the characters take on a life of their own
and do what they want to do.
We become their instrument as they guide us on our way.
We end up writing what they want us to say.
To every writer his characters are real,
they live, breathe and feel.
The more you write about them,
the more alive they become.
So the next time you pick up a book
and the characters seem real,
they probably are to the author
who looks after them.
24 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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Started a New Play
My Scorpio colleague jumps into the day
with ice-cold precision and complete lack
of existential angst, no other emotion than
irritation apparent, the beautiful easygoing
Libran saunters gracefully through wide
scope projects that scares the little alien
clinging to the rafters in my head to death
Today the little alien is into Freudian self-
destruction and sabotages everything I do,
Agony Aunt within me gave up in disgust,
my inner Alice has withdrawn and only a
shell is left – luckily my characters have
started a new play and the story unfolding
makes a wonderful day, thank you
Thank you to everyone who consented to
appear in my life to become archetypes
populating my fictional universe, it is so
wonderful when I meet you here, creating
the perfect ambiance for the unfolding of
a most wonderful dream without my
having to go anywhere!
[Seeing me so destitute my fictional characters
started a new play and the sweetness obliterates
the world and its problems so that Agony Aunt –
grim-faced and tight-lipped – is left carrying the
consciousness while inside such a magnificent
emotional unfolding is creating the most perfect
delicate tracery of sublime emotion ]
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Imaginary Life
She would swim with the dolphins ,
In the sea,
In her dreams there is nothing she can't do or be,
She only wants to escape reality,
And for awhile she soars free,
Imaginary life,
sometime helps her escape,
The real world that surrounds her.
With her unknown fate,
She would soar the sky,
a butterfly,
A fairy tale princess,
who is saved,
By a knight in shining armor,
Making a cold lonely night seem warmer.
Than the morning comes,
and her dreams fade.
Reality awakens her in the sunrise,
Stealing her away from her imaginary life.
When she was a child,
Fairy tales had a happy ending,
And for awhile,
It was fun pretending,
But she learns to well,
Life is no fairy tale,
Sometime a princss never becomes a queen.
Only if she closes her eyes,
She can live her dream,
in a imaginary life,
Taking her away from reality,
She would swim with the dolphins in the sea.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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Be Not The Characters
Be not the characters,
Of fictitious and romantic tales,
And alluring folk legends;
How can we elope,
To the shadowy sheltering world,
Far away from the indifferent community,
All fatally against the lovers,
How can we escape from the net,
Woven around with the lacerating thread,
Of customs;
Romantic characters only suit,
To the dreamy books, films and fictions,
Or they are the substance of folk tales;
But in the world of reality,
Those who follow the counsel,
Of the unbridled hearts are lashed,
Flogged, whipped and thrashed,
And have to suffer nothing but pangs.
poem by Shahida Latif
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Limited To Three Dimensions
Finally read the last book in my favourite children's
series in which Stella Blakemore brought all threads
together, explaining desire to follow lines connecting
all holy places on earth, to throw off the yoke, follow
the dream of a great pilgrimage to experience great
myths embodying humankind's ideals - or to escape
responsibilities when too tired to make sense of our
lives when people differ too much for understanding
the meaning of love
Those characters who still live in my mind, lived
situations which explained how to deal with a lack
of communication - and too much devotion for all
the wrong reasons, illustrating why my favourite
professor and his wife grew apart - how false
sentiment engendered by admiration for talent
can be placed in perspective - maybe it would
have been meaningless in 1974 when printed
who knows -
But today it illustrates synchronicity, based on the
principle of ley lines and sacred geography, at that
time I would have concentrated only on Lohengrin,
its multifaceted story complements my theory that
reality is infinitely rich and every fantasy provides
a focus on one main theme, offering perspective
within which we can view ALL of reality until we
change to the next code - present the symphony
of life in a new way, changing everything
I love this feeling on reading something that makes
me feel too inspired to return to sensory perception
llimited to three dimensions…
Stella Blakemore - "Unwelcome at Keurboslaan"
JL Van Schaik,1974………
………14 April 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Sweet So I Can Have Peace
I feel terrible, the story I'm reading keeps me in suspense
because it does not make any sense, the unhappiness of
the characters suffering terrible passion and despair gives
me a headache, I don't believe anyone could be so upset
without falling ill; authors always give their characters too
much to bear, I cannot imagine so much intrigue in reality
without complete physical collapse
I make things charming and sweet so I can have peace yet
still take note of what others do to break the boredom of an
ideal existence, too much safety is just as bad as too much
pain, though I am fanatically opposed to suffering, the result
is that we are enriched by the wisdom it brings and the new
perspective that grows out of it makes me see the interesting
world in a different way, variety is
The spice of life - for me - in any case…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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