What To Bring
(A collaboration poem with Catrina Heart)
What to carry to a cross country?
A wallet with cash, credits cards,
ATM’s to pay for your expenses…..
What to bring to an outing?
Food to eat and water to drink
to fill in our body needs…..
What to take to a meeting?
Some papers and pen
to take note of the events…..
Except for clothes, make up kit,
Phone, shoes and camera to pick,
What else do we need for our trip?
Isn’t it a book for us to read?
To enjoy, to learn beyond the words
To the fullest, and be filled to the brim
To nourish our mind, body and soul
And be our company along the way
It may be sad, lonely and happy
Carry a book, like carrying a friend
Sleep on it like a soft pillow in the early morn
Live by its words, read and love it like your own
Note: thank you, Catrina
A privilege to mix ink with you.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Related quotes
The First Poem
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
The words I love you
written by this beauty's tongue
turned a heart rosy red from a somber blue
and made me burn for my heart was wrung.
The first poem I ever read
is the first poem I ever said.
On her poetic lips love words refined
and shaped a sonnet on her flesh defined
On those lips I read a poet's song
And knew it was there my lips belonged.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I love you, I love you
What does it mean?
These words said, to start anew
something pure and something serene.
The first words I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
Those first words she whispered into my ear
And in my heart, her poem stood near
Those are the most beautiful words one ever said
I love you, I love you, will live till its dead.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I read her lips, I love you, I love you..
now to sleep I go in love's sweet bed.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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for R. from Emma
it is you in handcuffs, you claim to be,
not your body, you're in for something borrowed,
as we all are,
you do not sell
to me what you have, a body, a soul, a mind
in trichotomy,
i have much of these already, and i do not mind
getting into these all again,
your body, my body, without the mind and soul
it is possible
i did it and shall do it
over and over again
for i learn no lesson from anything
neither from anybody
nor any book
i shall set you free from handcuffs, and have me handcuffed
instead,
in return by & of your hands
and arms
i will not kiss you, you will be surprised
i will not even hold you, you will be appalled
i simply want to be a black bird perching on your
shoulders as branches to a tree
in my mind,
and then you see me flying away,
no drama, just a plain
for general patronage movie
it's like deplaning PAL
from New York via Cebu with a note that i cannot
be in Looc, Oslob, not even a shadow of
my giveaway phone
and then back to my hometown in Dipolog
you bet, i expect no arms, i hate streamers
and the band.
i still love to do all these
and finish all these tricks all alone by myself.
Till then, if you are not happy at least
Don't be gay.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I read a book
I read a book
Not to enhance my looks
I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook
I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook
I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light
I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook
I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took
I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook
I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Catrina Blues
It is time for you to smart up
Catrina
I hope that you learn to keep your cool
From now on
Catrina
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Books
Books take me to a place like no other
When I'm reading no one else madders
All my problems go away and it's just my books and me.
Books I like that word but when I read
My mom and dad and all my brothers and sisters go away
And I'm left there with no one but a book.
And then I pick it up and the word isn't so empty any more
It's full again. Like when you're a kid and your mom or dad
Come home after a long trip without you and you missed them
And then you're crying, laughing and happy all at the same time.
That how I get with a book I just found.
Happy because it's by my favorite Author but yet sad because
The book ended with questions still in my head.
And laughing because it was funny at one point in the book.
I love that felling when I pick up a book.
How do you fell when you pick up a book?
Happy, sad, a funny felling? You tell me please come on now don't be shy.
poem by Alley Rodriguez
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The Note You Never Wrote
Later on, the story goes,
A bottle floated out to sea.
After days, when it had found the perfect spot,
It opened up,
And I read the note that you never wrote to me
After all, Im sure you know,
The mayor of baltimore is here.
After days now he can finally appear,
Now at last hes here,
But he never is gonna get my vote,
cause he never is gonna get a quote
From the little note
That you never wrote to me.
Further on, along the line,
I was arrested on the shore,
Holding papers of governments galore.
I was taken in,
But I read the note that you never wrote.
Yes, I read the note that you never wrote.
Oh, I read the note that you never wrote to me.
To me.
To me.
To me.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning To Read
Very soon the Yankee teachers
Came down and set up school;
But, oh! how the Rebs did hate it, -
It was agin' their rule.
Our masters always tried to hide
Book learning from our eyes;
Knowledge did'nt agree with slavery -
'Twould make us all too wise.
But some of us would try to steal
A little from the book,
And put the words together,
And learn by hook or crook.
I remember Uncle Caldwell,
Who took pot liquor fat
And greased the pages of his book,
And hid it in his hat.
And had his master ever seen
The leaves upon his head,
He'd have thought them greasy papers,
But nothing to be read.
And there was Mr. Turner's Ben,
Who heard the children spell,
And picked the words right up by heart,
And learned to read 'em well.
Well, the Northern folks kept sending
The Yankee teachers down;
And they stood right up and helped us,
Though Rebs did sneer and frown.
And I longed to read my Bible,
For precious words it said;
But when I begun to learn it,
Folks just shook their heads,
And said there is no use trying,
Oh! Chloe, you're too late;
But as I was rising sixty,
I had no time to wait.
So I got a pair of glasses,
And straight to work I went,
And never stopped till I could read
The hymns and Testament.
Then I got a little cabin
A place to call my own -
And I felt as independent
As the queen upon her throne.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Fishing Hole
Some place quiet
peaceful
Preferably
I would like to
Walk
Or maybe
Ride a bike there
If I have to drive
I think too many people might know about it
It has already become too popular
Its purpose
The reason I would have went there
has already been defeated
I'm not trying to give an impression of exclusivity
Sometimes
I just want to be alone
In a place where
I can take a book
Read for hours
I can take a pen and note book
Maybe my laptop
Write for days
I'd bring my headphones
Or
Listen to nature's symphony
A radio would be too much
Too loud
Not something I would want to carry
I won't do what I did to my last one
One became two
Two became a few
A few
For me
Became too many
I won't tell anyone
Ill just leave a note,
Gone fishing
Be back
Sometime between
Now and Then
©Christopher F. Brown 2012
Technorati Tags: Fishing Hole, poetry, Christopher F. Brown, cfbrown.com
poem by Christopher Brown
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Your Stronger Than He Ever Was
When you’re down
And you think you can’t
Get back up without him
Think of your friend
Your family
The ones that love you the most
if you think you need him
To carry on with your burdens
bare in mind we are here
To help carry you to higher ground
if you think you can’t live without
Him who lays waste to your heart
bare in mind we love you
With all our hearts
And will protect you from harm
should you feel down and out
With the misery he causes to your heart
bare in mind we your family
Will be there to mend your broken heart
once you know you can live without him
He who tears the life from your soul
bare in mind we your family
Will be there to bring back
To your home your own living soul
bare in mind we will give back to you
Strength to carry on and make you strong
and when you learn to be strong
When you learn to move on
we smile with pride knowing
You’re stronger than he ever was
poem by Kaila George
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Healing Through Poetry
The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows
I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift
I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain
Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read
November 22,2009
Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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0234 The Book To The Reader
The book said:
I serve you. And
as you take from me, I
give myself to you; even
before you begin
to read me.
I note how gently
you pick me up from
where you laid me down,
pausing just before you touch me; and
I feel your mind surrendering
with relief all other matters which
weigh down the mind; as one
who sheds his clothes and dives
into cool, clear water on a sunny day
and when you begin to read me, I
feel your hands, not gripping me but
sensing the film of air between
your hands and my cover; the lovely
detachment of a shared love; you
respect me for my outer self as
you respect what I have to give
and when you put me down,
you put me down so tenderly,
first looking for the perfect place
to leave me; with, I sense,
an inward sigh of satisfaction, gratitude, but which
meets the sigh of parting; like
the parting pause of lovers
and, like lovers who have grown old together,
we put out of mind the passing sigh of
yet a different kind; that one of us one day
will be – not the first, that’s easy – but
the second one to go… that’s
the eternal test of love: loss to be measured
against gratitude, the final laying down
on the altar, of the book of life
all this I appreciate;
did you too know this? are we not
fortunate in each other, you and I?
said the book.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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0009 Favorite Poem
and you can’t remember much
about the first time you read it except
that it held you to the end, but most of all
this one line, which seemed to hold
the key to the whole poem
as if you were opening the closet of your mind
to bring out something which you knew was there
but instead something way at the back
called to you and you remembered
a moment from way back you thought
you had forgotten
and then you read the poem again
in company with the poet and
yes that’s it, and the two of you
became friends for life, almost
related.
So, now you’ve read all their poems,
feel some more than others but
as if you wrote them all in the same room
where you read them together
and you wait for their new book with
a sorta family pride
and like family,
you leave the poems for a spell,
grow up a little, then
come back to visit -
they mean more;
can it be,
you've both grown?
each time you come back to them
you carry them more close to you
in fact you feel that you could write
poems very much like theirs
as if you’d inherited, too,
the family gift
and though you wouldn’t of course
seek them out in person except
in a reading where you’d
have to share their warmth
with the rest of their extended family
but not say much since
you are a, well, close relative,
if you happened to be driving a route
not far from them, you’d detour,
park a little distance from their house,
but have it in your sight,
hope you might catch a movement,
wait a few minutes, then
start the car with almost a sigh
half relieved that you didn’t have to try
on their cautiously polite doorstep
to find words to say
you love them in their words,
which you almost wrote together,
lived them together;
love them like life itself,
love them
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Disturbance
When I was a little boy
My mama dropped me on my head
I felt kinda dizzy but the doctor
Made note of all I did
Chorus
Ever since then theres been a slight disturbance in my mind
A kind of disarrangement that the surgeons cannot find
At the age of seven I just couldnt read my abc
But I gave my teacher tips on how the caveman used to be
Chorus
Reach the age of 21 aint got no...to fit my clothes
Day and night Im looning around
Dont know what Im looking for
Will they carry me away?
Oh will they carry me away?
I was 97 and Im sure my brain it had enough
Racing round in jet planes cause
My sports car aint quite fast enough
Chorus
Will they carry me away?
Oh will they carry me away?
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disturbance
When I was a little boy
My mama dropped me on my head
I felt kinda dizzy but the doctor
Made note of all I did
Chorus
Ever since then theres been a slight disturbance in my mind
A kind of disarrangement that the surgeons cannot find
At the age of seven I just couldnt read my abc
But I gave my teacher tips on how the caveman used to be
Chorus
Reach the age of 21 aint got no...to fit my clothes
Day and night Im looning around
Dont know what Im looking for
Will they carry me away?
Oh will they carry me away?
I was 97 and Im sure my brain it had enough
Racing round in jet planes cause
My sports car aint quite fast enough
Chorus
Will they carry me away?
Oh will they carry me away?
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Left To My Own Devices (disco Mix)
I get out of bed at half past ten
Phone up a friend, who's a party animal
Turn on the news and drink some tea
Maybe if you're with me we'll do some shopping
One day I'll read, or learn to drive a car
If you pass the test, you can beat the rest
But I don't like to compete, or talk street, street, street
I can pick up the best from the party animal
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Pick up a brochure about the sun
Learn to ignore what the photographer saw
I was always told that you should join a club
Stick with the gang, if you want to belong
I was a lonely boy, no strength, no joy
In a world of my own at the back of the garden
I didn't want to compete, or play out on the street
For in a secret life I was a round head general
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Left to my own devices, I probably would
Oh, I would
I was faced with a choice at a difficult age
Would I write a book? Or should I take to the stage?
But in the back of my head I heard distant feet
Che Guevara and Dbussy to a disco beat
It's not a crime when you look the way you do
The way I like to picture you
When I get home, it's late at night
I pour a drink and watch the fight
Turn off the TV, look at a book
Pick up the phone, fix some food
Maybe I'll sit up all night and day
Waiting for the minute I hear you say
I could leave you, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Come on, baby, say goodbye
Or I could love you, if I try
And I could
And left to my own devices, I probably would
Left to my own devices, I probably would
(Come on baby)
Left to my own devices, I probably would
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A book.
Shelves of books with variant topics:
Medicine, Engineering and comics,
Languages, Management and Marketing,
Tourism, Text books and Computing,
House hold, Carpentry and plumbing,
Trucks, Driving and operating.
Must choose one to taste,
Read regularly to last,
A full term of life and love,
Nourish it with the dose of care,
Can buy it from the stores,
That sells New, second hand and old,
When the new book is bought,
The smell itself fresh and great,
To remember for the life throughout,
Keep it as a Holy book and enjoy,
When the used books are purchased,
Rarely used books, never opened,
A few half read and half left,
A few stained and battered,
A few has the quotations underlined,
When the old books are bought,
The papers are oxidized and yellow,
Touch it, fragile, handle with care,
Though the contents may be good,
Prints are washed out and hard to see,
Heavily tainted of weather.
Whether you buy the new or the used book,
Make sure that you choose the right book,
Then read chapter by chapter leaving no nook,
Sometimes it thrills and shrills,
It is hilarious and comical,
If it is full of mysteries,
Try to solve it with your knowledge,
Don't slam and tear it,
Not touch it with your drug fingers,
Not read it with your spirited mind,
You will misunderstand the contents,
Promise yourself you will not make,
Your book an used and neglected book again.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Valentine's Day is knocking on lover's doors
We are all eagerly awaiting for this day of the year to year
And all of us are carrying the most beautiful words and senses
Expecting to meet his/her loved to surprise him/her with the gift and words
Orchards will be full of the lovers and the red color will illuminate our world
The warmth of the embraces will warm our bitter cold
The dancers will be the hearts not the bodies, eyes will be in hold
How nice to see love fill the world, to read the real emotions that want to be told
How nice to carry the gift that been taken from your beloved
This day is a refresh for our hearts and souls to be clean like the gold
This day is for all people, babies, children, young and even for the old
Valentine's Day is knocking lover's doors
Came to put the light on you souls
Open your door and don’t hide your feelings any more
Happy Valentine's Day the prettiest girl for me
My heart is carrying words that can fill the sea
Love grows for you every year and every day
This day is for you to harvest what I have been hold
In my heart, in soul but all of them were for you
I love you
To God Give The Glory (Monchielle)
To God give the glory
Is a treasure to read
Christina R. Jussaume
Is great poet indeed
Her poems vanish gloom
To God give the glory
Her love for Christ is pure
It reflects thru poems
Her words are wise and kind
Uplifts the soul is true
To God give the glory
I'm glad I got a copy
You'll enjoy what you see
She writes witty and nice
Happy her book I read
To God give the glory
Poet tells some funny jokes
She writes of God and life
Of Christ and all she knows
Poet shares loves and strife
November 25,2009
Author's note:
'To God Give The Glory' is a wonderful
and very uplifting poetry book written by
the great poetess Christina R. Jussaume
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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You Are Not A Fixture Inside A Lonely Room....
the wonderful times are gone
but soon they will come,
they too, like us, are going on a break
a vacation that
they too badly need,
somehow
you enter the door of the lonely house
when the wonderful times are gone
you sit on a chair, listen to the carpets
talk to the paintings, and take a cup of coffee
you look around, stare at the ceiling,
read the papers, and then watch the news
it is evening, you light at candle
at the dining table,
you cook and you eat yourself,
and then you undress yourself
look at your body in the mirror
it is still beautiful and then you
take a shower, wipe the water,
spray some perfume, drink a glass of water,
turn off the TV and the lights at the lawn
and then you sleep alone.
you dream.
so many dreams to still dream
but you do not wish to remember
each episode of this dream
too many loads to carry
so much to think about
so much imaginings
and you do not need them
time is too short
for so much sentimentalism
when the wonderful times were once here
you had a nice dance with her
you made love in the morning,
you smoke her cigar,
you drink and savor the taste of the
sweet and sparkling wine
you remember the joys of ejaculations
intellectually on the romantic stories you have read
beside her
the wonderful times are over now
you had it, you once had it all,
savor the memories
and then you must forget to begin again
you leave a house,
go on another destination
meet another love,
for love is the cure for love
when the heart breaks,
it is but of essence that it must heal itself
because that is life,
a thriving, a revival of this heart of fire
it beats a pulse, it makes you run
and never does it make you stay
like some kind of a fixture
in that lonely room.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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(Inspiration Poem) A Book Never Read
Living by the fire
Living to admire
Living down to the wire
Still the wheels don't turn
I think it is because I want it
Urn for it
The beautiful almighty
I will not pray
Not as long as I live day by day
How much does my soul really weigh?
How many sins can be forgiven?
The fog will eventually choke you out
Whine and pout all you want
It won't make a dent in my steel cage
Because it was built from pure rage
If Its not a stage
What am I going through?
Its just another page of my book never read
Words as stale as the food I was fed
Maybe it was how many times I have been dropped on my head
I plead guilty to an unwritten destiny
I lied to myself in a mirror straight to my very own face
Memories erased
It's just another page of my book never read
I can't be lead astray
Especially if I'm willing
It's not much different then stealing
A moral yeng then yang
A oh so perfect harmony
Keeping things on a even keel
Always questioning what is real
It's just another page of my book never read
I hold on so tight to my comfy bed
Such a beautiful night
The stars are glistening oh so bright
I turn off the lights
Sleep for the dreams of a tomorrow
We are all living on borrowed time
So I ask again where's mine?
A question that continues to go unanswered
Draw your own conclusion
It's another one of the deep dark mysterious illusions
It's just another page of my book never read
It's as if every word has never been said
It's just another page of my tattered and torn book that will be never read
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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