My Twin
She remembers unhappiness at age ten,
wanted to die, cried nights, an indictment
on everyone near – especially me who
slept fingers in ears to quietly dream
Why she was so unhappy I cannot say,
I lived life in between, mind empty-black
and sad, lonely until I read books, stories
or consummate facts
I backed out her world, frustrated mother
screaming hysterically, fury mad dad –
our loving Grandma overwrought,
overworked, fatigued
I lived my life invisibly, reading quietly,
playing imaginary games – around me
all hell was let loose, there was no
way of avoiding risible chaos
My sister could not escape, she was
punished for being visibly alive and
not disappearing like me, what can
I tell her today?
I am happy to not have felt my own
life, hearing about it from her mouth,
the hostility, anger and distance
I am so glad I was away mentally
Living in books – and pure fantasy…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
My little book
blind as I was, deaf as my friend yet! have
gone as furthest as the universe, I thought
that was only a great dream of my past
laughing me seems to easy, for once I was
a little child is always a child, it was the day
where my father and mother hold me so tight,
closing my bulging eyes as they read, telling
some fabulous stories and then gradually falls
my attentive ears down to my sight and there
no more
all comes to meet my fantastic imagination,
making my childhood memories filled it all, with
what is all remembered is not what it makes, for
what ever is heard now has gone as it is done
books tells me different stories, that relates my
ways, for I taste of what is the past and today, simply
I know that hearing is not reading and reading is
always remembering
my little book paved me the way that in my little
room I will be free....read and read and read...the
only way to visit and see, of what is yesterday for
the future belongs today.....and reading always
become part of me
poem by Antonio Liao
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A Story of a Life, Mine
Wishing for more
knowing I will always fall short
I don't live an unhappy life
just a lonely one
dreams of one day by my side
there she'll be my wife
unfortunately that's all it will be
'a Dream'
I don't live an unhappy life
just a lonely one
I allow my imagination to run wild
to have the simple things in life
a family who care too much
a trusted friend to keep me out
or get me into trouble
to have that girl look at me
the way I look at her
a simple life
I don't have an unhappy life
just a lonely one
like a fairy tale but mine's the opposite
the end of a story book
the only difference is
it's not they lived
just I lived happily lonely after
I'll possibly always be alone
but that's alright I'm not worried
I like me even if nobody else does
and that's all that matters in the end
poem by Kelvin Owusu
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I Belong To The Past/ My Mind Is An Old Mind
I BELONG TO THE PAST/ MY MIND IS AN OLD MIND
I belong to the past-
My mind is an old mind-
Books not tweets,
Songs which sing
Not rages which talk.
My mind is an old mind-
I live in the long readings of distance days-
When lost in books
I dreamed life
Greater than any I had yet known-
I belong to the past
My mind is an old mind-
I have lived many many years
And the book of my own life
So much less than what I read of others
And dreamed for myself once-
I belong to the past
My mind is an old man
Yet like a fool
I still believe
Some day somehow once
There will be
The book of my life
Others will read.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Who Am I to Deny It Promise?
If I am not living my life today...
With the fulness that I should,
To be left feeling betrayed.
Then everyday I have lived my life,
Has been invalidated.
If I can say,
I am not living my life today.
I am dreamless without hope.
I give empty reasons to mope!
I am a vacant shell...
Existing in a hell I've created.
If I am not living my life today!
Where did I store those memories?
When did any happiness come to leave?
Why am I not pleased...
With anything that comes my way?
If I can say,
I am not living my life today!
And I breathe just to witness my breath...
Fade away into a nothingness.
If I am not living my life today...
What is this,
That IS!
And 'who' am I,
To deny 'it' promise?
Like a gift one receives...
Selfishly to leave unwrapped.
Can I honestly believe,
I am not worthy to do that?
If I am not living my life today...
Perhaps I should.
And unpack...
From sorrows deeply stacked.
Trapping my sight in darkness,
Without daylight I alone hold back.
If I am not living my life today...
With the fulness that I should,
To be left feeling betrayed.
Then everyday I have lived my life,
Has been invalidated.
And I know there is 'something' I value,
I can give!
To say 'that' is the reason,
I am here to live!
If I can remove myself...
To cast shadows,
Instead of finding an escape within them.
To live and let my life,
Be the one I have and learn to like!
Unfrightened.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In Hell
You live by the book of wonders,
The book has hell on it when opened.
The inferno carries pits too grilling,
The grills are offered by devils,
Contagious diseases are handed over
To the body and bones, full of hatred.
A hell of books is opened by the librarian,
You choose a simple verb to read,
Then this verb is read, the verb that signals death.
Your death must never come by reading books,
Long scrolls so wonderful,
Of books the world is made
And the reason for books is reading,
Not living in Hell.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Before Your Love
I wonder how I ever made it through a day
How did I settle for a world with shades of gray?
When you go in circles all the scenery looks the same
And you don't know why
Then I looked into your eyes
And the road stretched out in front of me
And I realized
Chorus:
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
Before your love
I wanted more than just an ordinary life
All of my dreams seemed like castles in the sky
I stand before you and my heart is in your hands
And I don't know how
I survived without your kiss
Cause you've given me a reason to exist
Chorus
I never lived before your love
And I don't know why
Why the sun decides to shine
But you breathed your love into just in time
I never lived
Before your love
I never felt
Before your touch
I never needed anyone to make me feel alive
But then again
I wasn't really living
I never lived
I never lived
Before your love
song performed by by Kelly Clarkson from American Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Books
Books are my first love, I’m so proud to read;
They give me knowledge and help life to lead;
Hours, days just pass by, by reading life-time;
Life would not be worth, if not for my rhyme.
Great are those people who write books all life;
Burning just candles, with Goose-quills in strife;
Tired of writing though day-long or night,
They keep on writing in such a bad light.
Books serve a great cause; their value can’t cease;
It takes years to write but reading is ease;
Book-makers struggle to print a few books;
And keep spending time to, improve their looks.
Some find their way to libraries in town;
Some remain untouched and nev’r taken down;
Silver-fish, Moths eat the books that are old;
Some are gone obsolete, some sold like gold.
Some are in tatters and must be rebound;
Books are Man’s best friends where solace is found;
Reading for long hours, does help you to learn;
Books give much knowledge and wisdom to men.
Read books with great care whose weight is in gold;
Serve generations though they may be old;
Source of much Info, deserving respect;
Books are life-partners whom you ne’er reject!
poem by John Celes
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Literary Masterpiece
Rocked up at work, all confused,
we discussed books we loved as
kids, Hanlie reminiscences about
Bible and Vicky Villard Stories - I
recall a garage stacked with book-
club detective novels, hands killing
victims by giving them a fright in the
night, she read comic books at school
We got gargantuan amounts of photo-
books from grandma De Lange while
grandma Alice subscribed to Reader's
Digest, we read Shangri-La and Beau
Geste so condensed - they lacked all
fire and spice, only an outline left, then
I tried tackling a document, International
Warrant of Arrest - my mind wandering
Listening to an André Rieu DVD playing
because cold silence punctuated by the
tapping of keyboards is a symbol of the
end of all life; with Carmen and Zorba on
my earphones engaging my heart, I shall
try again to relay the quaint legalese of the
warrant of arrest - a literary masterpiece
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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War Zone
Kitchen turned into a war zone, books from
library making up for lack of colours removed
at your request, two wooden boards to lift
my books high for easy reading
‘Mind, Magic & Mysteries’, ‘Strange Stories and
Amazing Facts’, ‘True Stories of a Private Eye’
by Tillman and Hunter; Cecil Murphey’s ‘Aging
is Attitude’ – such fun finding these
I shall read them one by one, already doing fine;
discovering ‘in retrospect we turn trauma into the
best of times, our worst experiences are decisive
moments for change of direction’
Already - in my life - this is the best of times…
1. ‘The encyclopedia of Mind, Magic & Mysteries’
by Francis X. King
2. ‘The Reader’s Digest Book of Strange Stories and
Amazing Facts’, Reprinted July 1977
3. ‘The Man with the Turquoise Eye - True Stories of
a Private Eye’ – Norma Mott Tillman with David Hunter
Rutledge Hill Press; 1995
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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I Read Borges Poems
I read Borges poems
And the Night opens up a vast and different kind of Memory
Histories of place I have never been
Faces I have never seen
Questions of Identity
Streets I will never walk in
Too long and deserted
To truly contemplate-
Fame and its follies
The delusions of a name
Death and destinies
Games of words
Encyclopedias of strange tribes
Anthropologies of gestures
A voice and tones of thinkers long unknown
Books rewritten
Literature as life
Reading as adventuring
Labyrinths, hourglasses, imaginary swords and battles
And loves whose only realization is their longing
Solitude and its self- deceptions
Escape and its consolations
The long road in poems and parables
Old age and the regrets of what one has never done-
I read Borges
And there is the joy of the real thing
What only Literature can give
Life is more when read about
Than when lived -
A seeming in the silence
Where even the most beautiful words on the page
Are best seen as echoes of past worlds greater and more glorious
Long lines on the page defining worlds far away and forever mysterious
Time passing unapproachable.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Live ha haaa...
Books making
Some time
Boor of life...
Life is not a book...
Some books
Helps life...
Some books
Boored life...
Life is boor...?
Relax too read
Joke books...
live ha ah ahhhaaa....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Always, it is poetry time
Life is filled with work to do,
Always there is, with me,
Poetry time, an escape, like you
Were so tirelessly breathing
And then
Take a cat’s nap, in a corner
Of your mind on a frame hung
On the solid wall,
Always it is poetry time with me,
Otherwise, life is nothing but
One that is hammered with work to do,
Feeling like a funeral, like a murder scene,
& Without,
Poetry time, there is just a lonely face,
Reading and writing books and books
And serious looks in crazy nooks,
And where can smile be? Tell me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dad and Me
Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
Books on the bookshelf and surrounding it,
Books all over the house, every single bit!
Not a one of these books are non-fiction,
Different worlds are their depiction.
Fictional, sci-fi, dark and fantasy,
Horror and happy, more books for me!
Books belonging to my father,
Or belonging to me as I rather.
My father and I in bookworm heaven,
Until mum cleans up around half past seven.
She throws the books in a huff,
Says it's a mess and to clean it up!
Well dad and I try to clean,
But on the work we quickly wean
And in one of the larger nooks
You'll find dad and me reading our books.
poem by Lenore Lee
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All The World
All the world's forgiving the change is all around
And people everywhere have seen the light in what they've found
It's a happy place in the human race
When all our lives are lived forgiving
All the world's for living when love is what you find
Despair and loneliness you've got to leave them far behind
Tell the clouds to go let the feeling show
It's great when life is full of living
Everyone's aware they know to change the world we've got to care
And people all should know should have happened long ago
Or could it be that I just now found out
Life is meant to share and it means the same thing everywhere
Living everyday, helping people on their way
Cause sometimes life gives everyone some doubts
Can I have time? Is it right what I feel?
At times I doubt what I normally know is real
But right now I don't know what to do
And it's all because of you
I could tell you if I knew that you'd believe
As slight and elusive as life sometimes is
Right or wrong as we both know we all can be
I could never have denied that I need you by my side
'Cause without you life don't seem that much to me
I can see an old man cry, it's his time to die
And life no longer gives him any breaks
He hasn't got a home, no one to call his own
Still he tells no one that it is more than he can take
When the time is so unkind, an empty future plays in your mind
When the darkness cries out to you, can you escape it?
What can you do?
All the world's forgetting the hate that filled our hearts
The times of selfish reasoning that keeps all apart
This world was meant to share, let them know you care
By making someone's life worth living
All the world's believing that this felling's got to stay
till all the world is living
till all the world is giving
till all the world is loving every day
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today I Had to Forgive Myself (My Life Is Meant to be Lived)
I saw something I had never seen before,
Once I looked beyond my own sorrows.
I lifted my head and saw an open door.
A light was shining through,
To show me tomorrow.
With promises I once wished,
But had not pursued.
I lived with a stagnation...
That came and overstayed,
A temporary reservation...
I made when feeling down,
And knocked out!
Drugged on self debasement.
Feeling nothing could replace...
This empty space within me.
And I knew then...
If I was to walk through that door,
Today I had to forgive myself...
And not let my burdens feel too welcomed.
As I had done countless times before.
Tossing my pain and self doubt about!
They could stay for as long as they wanted!
And entertain grief that came to visit.
But I had no intentions to remain with them,
Sustaining their attention or their comfort.
I kept deep within to repeat again and again.
A hollow search I felt had no end.
My life is meant to be lived.
Not to sit and forget to refresh my perceptions.
My life is meant to be lived.
And when I made up my mind,
I knew I would find...
A release of darkness that would diminish.
Once I allowed my guilt to deplenish,
I prepared to say goodbye to despair!
Knowing to leave that behind me to become fully aware...
My life is meant to be lived.
My life is meant to be lived.
My life...
Is meant to be lived.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Walked Last Night In A District I Lived In For Almost Twenty Years
I WALKED LAST NIGHT IN A DISTRICT I LIVED IN FOR ALMOST TWENTY YEARS
I walked last night in a district I lived in for almost twenty years
I came back after being away for a time
To visit an old and ailing friend
The streets were empty and lonely as they often were then-
I thought for the first time I understood how lonely the district itself is-
‘A lonely district’
I wondered how I managed to live there all those years
And how anyone still manages to live there-
I looked up at the sky and wrote in my mind a small poem of a kind I wrote many of in my years there
I remembered teachers and friends who had lived there
No longer of this district or any district on earth
I wondered how life goes and how from so many years so much life has been lived without having any place in my memory
I felt as empty inside as the district without
I did not have to wait long for the bus
And relieved inside it I put my heart to home
So many years had been lived there
I remembered taking my small children to the playground there
Now they thank G-d have children of their own
Oh the years go by and the life we have lived in them largely dies
Forever to be unknown again-
I put my heart and mind in a different direction
And began to do what I always do – not think of the district again
Life is this mystery and question we live through and never wholly possess even as we are experiencing it
How long before all will be gone for me
Including the district I live in now?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Vale
So ends a life, lived to the full alway,
Thro' peace, thro' war, thro' honored peace again,
From youth unto the closing of his day
Lived simply. Yet a giant among men
Today steals quietly to seek his rest
As quietly he lived, yet none his peer.
In service of his land he gave his best
And, in simplicity, found greatness here.
Seeking no honour but his country's thanks,
No man among us won a place more high.
Comrade and leader where the myriad ranks
Stand now with bended heads as John goes by.
Ever a man, a soldier and a friend
In every heart some echo of the knell
That marks his passing throbs for this great end,
Saying in requiem, 'Pass, John, all is well.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Romance Of A Book
Reading a book, you're hit by romance,
No matter the subject matter,
You can read and read,
And every book is different,
Some stories are more pleasant than others,
While some are funny, but most are serious,
For the romance of a book,
Is in everyone's heart,
No matter their age or height,
Whether male or female:
It is all relative and I devour,
Each and every book,
I can read the classics,
Or even a heart-warming romance,
I just get through so many books,
I love every storyline,
Not so much the gory parts,
But the cleverness of the fictional detectives,
And those rock stars that roam the stage,
For a book is something that will never age,
No matter how many years on the shelf,
And stories can be shared with everyone else,
Yet everyone has their own views,
And books can be lifting when they're feeling blue,
For people have been reading fiction for centuries,
But, of course, not all books are fictional:
There're the historical books, interesting,
Even if a reader is just passing through,
And we can all learn something from the history books,
And let's not forget the autobiographies:
Many a man and woman fascinating,
Having lead unique lives and having had special loves,
And there is a romance to these people,
For they walked the same earth as everyone else,
Yet brought something strange and special to the world,
Like a scientist making a new discovery,
Or a rock star penning a hit song,
And all these things are which make books belong,
I haven't met anyone yet who finds books boring,
Because books are not boring: they are fascinating,
Unique, special, strange, romantic and enjoyable,
And every reader's dream: like hitting 'play' on a record,
For this is the romance of a book.
poem by Paula Glynn
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Bluer Than Blue
After you go
I can catch upon my reading
After you go
I'll have a lot mroe time for sleeping
And when you're gone
It looks like things are going to be a lot easier
Life will be a breeze you know
I really should be glad
But I'm bluer than blue
Sadder than sad
You're the only life this empty room has ever had
Life without is going to be
Bluer than blue
After you go
I'll have a lot more room in my closet
After you go
I'll stay out all night if I feel like it
And when you're gone
I could run through the house screaming
And no one will ever hear me
I really should be glad
But I'm bluer than blue
Sadder than sad
You're the only life this empty room has ever had
Life without is going to be
Bluer than blue
I don't have to miss no t.v. shows
I can start my whole life over
Change the numbers on my telephone
But the nights will sure be colder
And I'm bluer than blue
Sadder than sad
You're the only life this empty room has ever had
Life without you is going to be
Bluer than blue
Bluer than blue
Bluer than blue
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Lived One More LIfe... I Would
If I lived one more life
I would melt by the gentle sight of you
I would believe that your love is true
I would erase my fake intention
I would hold back all my foolish emotion
If I lived one more life
I would read all yr colorful envelopes
I would never burn your words of hopes
I would cherish your banner on the wall
I would make sure it will never fall
If I lived one more life
I would pick up your call night & days
I would guarantee your mind not decays
I would let my door open at all time
I would safe your sanity to prevent any crime
If I lived one more life
I would stand before you on my knee
I would beg your family to forgive me
I would plead to share your torture
I would fight to bring back your future
If I lived one more life
I would endure all your hate
I would accept you as my fate
I would strive to give you the best of me
I would die in your arms and be happy
If I lived one more life … I would
Dedicated to D.N.R – It’s been 14 years… This is my apology, I mean every word.
poem by Niken Kusuma Wardani
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