Twittering Like Miss Marple
Some of my innocent, Calvinistic colleagues cannot
stand friendliness, so when I get angry with them,
I simply start twittering just like Miss Marple, tottering
to them to share all my woes interspersed with my
always unappreciated jokes - some roll their eyes -
others flee, one or two listen for a moment or two
with superficial glee until they run away suddenly
Satisfied to have done my duty, taken my revenge
on a meaningless world, I return to my desk, ready
to catch any new victim, though when I'm garrulous
it is amazing how few people come in my direction,
it gives me immense satisfaction to penetrate the
social section for a few days - when I'm thoroughly
despised by all and the atmosphere turns hostile
I turn back into my mind, contemplate books and
theories, science and ideas, collecting new material
with which to drive hubby insane, terrorise the kids
and irritate brilliant scholars and great learned men
trying to indoctrinate the world to believe that we are
even more idiotic than we think - though I am on the
brink of understanding what they mean given
The books that I read about mental disorder and in-
stability and the programs on TV where razor sharp
voices belt out songs that hurt my ears in proof that
humanity's IQ is rather low, EQ is zero and falling…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
Songs Sing 05/11/2009
I love my family, I love my kids, I love
seeing their faces and hearing their
voices and holding them
I love hubby and all his schemes and
his plans for improvement and the way
he forgives
I love my mother and her hare-brained
ideas, I love my father and his notes
and his songs
I love my sister and her belligerence, I
love my poet friend who creates dreams
fragile and sweet
I love my colleagues who work so valiantly
design new forms and always help me to
conquer my fears
I love my brother and his love for words,
I love it when he cracks his whip
so that terms
Line up for him, I love his dismissal of things
that cannot be known by the senses and
sibling understanding
Of the games that I play; I love that we share
genes so that he understands everything I say
when I am confused
I love this beautiful world of music and sounds,
symbols and ideas, I love the love that I feel
for everyone
And most of all, I love the love they give me
when they laugh at my ideas, I love
eyes that are happy
I love songs that sing in my ears….
poem by Margaret Alice
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Myself Without You
When you walked out that door
I was so sure my world had ended
So sure I'd never get over you
On that first night alone
I cried so many tears it scared me
So many dreams that I had to let go
But now I know
That the world still turns and the sun still burns
And that's what I've learned without you
And the days roll on and my heart gets stronger too
Don't think I didn't love you
Just because I made it through
But I learned to love myself
Without you
I take myself to dinner
And I go to the movies solo
That's something I never did before
You may not understand this
But I don't' wait on invitations
I'm not afraid of the great unknown
Of being alone cause the
The world still turns and the sun still burns
And that's what I've learned without you
And the days roll on and my heart gets stronger too
Don't think I didn't love you
Just because I made it through
But I learned to love myself
Without you
I can even see myself
Falling in love with somebody else
Ready to take that chance again
Cause I know now
What I didn't know then
That the world still turns and the sun still burns
And that's what I've learned without you
And the days roll on and my heart gets stronger too
Don't think I didn't love you
Just because I made it through
But I learned to love myself
Without you
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And after I compose my programs, but it is very easy because I look to the music in a very natural way without fuss, and so I look always music, in my home, like books and books and books, choose books and you read the pages, so I do this with music, and I make programs.
quote by Victoria de los Angeles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Off to The Library Again
There she is again
Putting books back
In the right section
All nice and neat.
Then she turns
And smiles at me.
'Hi, found what your
Looking for? '
I think to myself,
Yes she's standing
Right in front of me.
But I bottle out,
And decide to play it cool,
'No, have you any new
Football books in? '
Bet she thinks ı'm
A right saddo now?
Sounded about ten years old.
But to my delight she tells
Me she's a football fan too,
And we chat for ages stood
In front of the football annuals.
Then an old lady pushes in
And wants to know where the
Mills and Boon books are,
So off she goes looking
For romance and passion.
I wait until she's at the desk
She looks at me and smiles
When she's stamping my books,
She's left her mark on me that's for sure.
I tell her to have a nice day,
And she replies and you,
And tells me to enjoy my books,
I wonder what time the library
Opens in the morning?
poem by Kevin Halls
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These days, there are many people around the world who listen to the songs that made me infamous and read the books that made me respectable.
quote by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ad Infinitum
Although not having read Alice in Wonderland or
Harry Potter or Martha Beck or Pride & Prejudice,
my colleague insisted we should read what she
recommended on the 100 best books’ list
Books appealing to her on the basis of reality while
she refuses to contemplate books I mentioned, such
as Michael Ende’s Momo and Le Petit Prince and
Adam - Martha Beck – but no, not an inch
Literary books should be tackled immediately; airily
I turned away blithely continuing on my way to start
reading Pratchett’s Snuff this weekend hoping for a
reprieve of the dreams my beloved cherishes
Of my joining his Facebook circle to follow brilliant
photographs taken by the aesthetically minded, used
for sentimental poetry about pain in their soul - while
I have great regard for their tender feelings
I am on a new mission: how to survive my life
without repeating all things ad infinitum
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Falling At Your Feet
Every chip from every cup
Every promise given up
Every reason that's not enough
Is falling, falling at your feet
Every band elastic limit
Every race when there's nothing in it
Every winner that has lost their ticket
Is falling, falling at your feet
I've come crawling, falling at your feet
Everyone who needs a friend
Every life that has no end
Every knee not ready to bend
Is falling, falling at your feet
I've come crawling, now I'm falling at your feet
All fall down
All the manic days
The faces that you pull
All the x-rays not under your control
The graffiti rolling down off of your tongue
And the compromise you make for someone
Every teenage with acne
Every face that's spoiled by beauty
Every adult tamed by duty
Are all falling at your feet
Every foot in every face
Every cop stop that finds the grace
Every prisoner in the Maze
Every hand that needs an ace
Is falling, falling at your feet
I've come crawling, now I'm falling at your feet
All fall down
All the books you never read
Just started
All the meals you rushed
And never tasted
Every eye closed by a bruise
Every player who just can't lose
Every pop star hurling abuse
Every drunk back on the booze
All falling at your feet, all falling at your feet
All fall down
All the information
All the big ideas
All the radio waves
On electronic seas
How to navigate
How to simply be
Don't know when to wait
Explain simplicity
In whom shall I trust?
How might I be still?
Teach me to surrender
Not my will, THY will
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Innocent World
I used to live in an innocent world
I had a car and a pretty blond girlfriend
We was too young to know what we were doing
And anyway I was just fooling around
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
There aint no reason to tell no lie
When youre young and youve got a lot of pie
Now I slink around like a killer
The things they say are just a lot of filler
In my mind, in my mind
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Running, laughing in the sun
And always having lots of fun
Smoking dope and just being young
In my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
With a cute little monkey on my back
And a total disregard for the facts
Id run away and never get back
From my innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
Innocent innocent innocent world
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen, my day job is also Chief Creative Officer for Marvel, and it's a very painful job because we publish a lot of books, and there are things I see where I can punch people out. Therefore, we have some new people now, and the kids are going to read our books.
Meaningless
Sometimes you do things for others
never realising what it does to you.
It feels as if you’re helping them
then realize what it has done to you.
You get lost along the way
withdrawing from the world
and no longer having anything to say.
Gone is that, that nurtured you
as you turn your back away.
Your world becomes a blank page
with just one word written on it
and that word is despair.
You no longer have anyone
to talk to and share your ideas.
You recede into apologies
for nothing that you’ve done.
The comfort zone you once had
is gone never to return.
You slip into boredom that you once knew.
Your life is filled with images,
which are meaningless to you.
Your stuck in a world
that is neither happy or sad,
but which is meaningless and empty.
Your creativity has all but ebbed away
and shrunk back into the void
that once controlled your life
and looks like doing it again.
You wander through each day
devoid of the things you need
to carry your life through. It happened why you ask.
The answer is not so readily available.
Slowly you fall into loneliness
where no thoughts are written down,
sliding into an empty world
where your voice is never heard
and no voices come back to you.
The world of desolation
where you are no longer an individual,
but just another empty drone.
Your emotions have been drained away,
your feelings are now gone.
You face each day without caring
whether it will be your last.
poem by David Harris
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What Has Changed
The world as I saw it as a youth
changed slowly in my mind.
It was warm and kind and friendly,
everything I wished to find.
The warmth of the sun,
never feared.
The kindness of people,
to me endeared.
The friendliness of strangers,
volunteered.
All of this my eyes did see.
The world as I saw it in mid-life
changed quicker in my mind.
It was filled with doubt and sometimes grief,
not something I expected to find.
The insecurities of life,
to me all new.
The losses that occur,
to me so blue.
The threats to harmony,
to me, to you.
All of this my eyes did see.
The world as I see it in riper years
changes not one bit in my mind.
For I've learned through living every day
there is something I can find.
The peace of understanding
that things don't change.
The spirit of humanity
that can rearrange
the acceptance of reality
which is strange.
The illusion of falseness
which tries to derange
everything good that comes your way.
And when we live through our very last day
we find that the only thing that's changed
Are we.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Gods
Ms. Sexton went out looking for the gods.
She began looking in the sky
—expecting a large white angel with a blue crotch.
No one.
She looked next in all the learned books
and the print spat back at her.
No one
She made a pilgrimage to the great poet
and he belched in her face.
No one.
She prayed in all the churches of the world
and learned a great deal about culture.
No one.
She went to the Atlantic, the Pacific, for surely God…
No one.
She went to the Buddha, the Brahma, the Pyramids
and found immense postcards.
No one.
Then she journeyed back to her own house
and the gods of the world were shut in the lavatory.
At last!
she cried out,
and locked the door.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Ice-cold Eyes (Revised)
A hostile and vitriolic atmosphere where
whatever is said is rejected with complete
and utter rancour – every opinion refuted,
dark suspicion, hatred and bitterness seek
eager company together
All optimism, expressions of benevolence
and uplifting interpretations evoke odium
of ice-cold eyes – sorry, I cannot agree to
such dour camaraderie, my dream-time
space is always sweet
I base my life on knowledge that human
consciousness changes what it sees while
it is changed by what is seen, I have tried
to keep my eyes focused only on things
that will fill me with hope
Things that create a world of love – while
I respect your right to be angry and bitter
with life, to dislike me immensely, it allows
my eyes to turn away to my thoughts and
rediscover special books
listen to music that energises my soul
with new melodies…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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These are books that want to be read out loud. These are books kids share with each other, and I think that's important.
quote by Brian P. Cleary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marilyn, Merry and Mariam
Working at Barnes & Noble in City Place,
books, c.d.’s and gifts filled the space.
I was a bookseller and liked books a lot,
I helped customers find books, I gave it my best shot.
I worked with Jennine, who sold books like you never seen.
My managers were Marilyn, Merry and Mariam Volk,
I never complained to them or bulked.
I kept busy putting books away,
I loved to watch kids in the kid section play.
I worked with Luz Cruz, her name rhymes with Blue’s Clues.
She is a really great bookseller, she works there till this day,
she always greets you with a smile and has a kind thing to say.
Only Luz is the last employee left from my crew,
unless Kao is still there working very hard too.
Page who helped me do readings with stories of make believe,
she went to Fort Lauderdale,
while Jim in receiving went to Boynton Beach.
Kim is now married and has another child,
she helped me get my books in the store for awhile.
Now it was fun experience while I was there,
happy memories I can share.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Not the days...
Now the days
Now the days of books have gone
E-poetry has excelled and most of the work done
You have outlived and performed nice
It was all you could do as per promise
It is nice to have desires
More to feel elated when readers admire
It is as good as achievement and satisfaction
The good smile must appear on face as an indication
In old days books were published
Some proof reading was done and finished
So much care was taken for spelling mistakes
Now no more such exercise and intakes
The word spell check does it all
You feed the word and it sounds nice call
All different words appear and supplement the need
Then the poem is ready for read
It has reduced the pain of storing
Previously composition was considered as boring
Now the scene is completely changed
The poems are well edited and managed
No need to go for its publication
It is stored and kept centrally at main stations
It can be clicked and read within no times
There is no fear of loss any time
I wonder for it as blessings
Nothing goes from it as missing
Everybody has equal chance for preserving
Good name and fame too for deserving
I would love to give credit to the emerging scientists
They come up with novel ideas and beautifully insist
On new technology and its development
It is one of the most credible movements too
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Book
Standing at the door, to your room, I lean against the frame,
I am frozen, I whisper your name.
The chair at the desk, where you always sat, to work
is in place, unmoved, in the dark.
I sigh, holding my breathe, I switch on the light
I say your name, adjust my eyes to the sight.
Everything is in its place, unmoved, just waiting
on your return, digital clock on desk blinking
in even rhythm, as time moves on,
unaware, uncaring that you are gone.
on the wall, family pictures of the past
moments in time, captured, held fast.
Afraid to break the silence, to enter the room, I wait
and for a moment I pretend you are just late,
that I will turn as I hear your footsteps on the stair
and see you standing, smiling, blue eyes full of care.
and then, that moment, that hope, has past
one heavy foot forward, I enter the room at last.
An inspiration, to me, to all of us, friends and family
you dealt with your illness, with strength and dignity,
I can still hear your laughter, your silly jokes,
remembering your love for books and gadgets.
reminiscing, I notice on your desk, a book
lying open, page marked, I move to have a look
As I read I start to smile, your last message,
the lyrics from Life of Brian, a circled passage
'Always look on the Bright side of Life'
for my children and my wife.
poem by Julie Duff
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Listen
I've lived 70 years and what have I learned?
Keep your mouth shut with ears open and you won't get burned.
I often talked thoughtlessly instead of listening well.
All the opportunities that this cost me is hard to tell.
My life would have been broader if I listened to new things said.
But I was too busy coddling old ideas molding in my head.
As for friends and colleagues, I offended more than my share.
With an attitude that my ideas were the only ones that were fair.
So after 70 years there's just one thought I'd like to emphasize…
During your life learn to listen to others, oh please listen, and you'll become wise.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Stress
The stress piles up like many books stacked up.
You push the books away, but more keep coming back.
You then start getting mean and tired,
And then you realize you should take a break before you let your monster out.
So you plug in your headphones and let the music take you to a relaxed new world.
Now you are ready to get back to work and not let the stress control you.
poem by Christina J. Williams
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Speak Quietly
Speak more quietly
Because one could hear us well
The world is not ready for your tender words
The world is not ready for us
They would quiet simply say that we are insane
Speak more quietly, but still speak
Of the insane love, of the strong love
That we passionately share
Born out of your tender care
Because one could surprise us well
You know very well
The world would never understand
That in our hearts
We found that thing
Which the world refused to give us
Speak quietly love
I'll hold u close to my heart
The era of our love would start
We are in a world of our own
Sharing the love, which no-one have ever known