She of the Heavenly Happiness
No-one knew what subsequently became of her
after he went so dramatically, and after all those goings-on.
He got all the headlines.
The police didn't even bother
to take her in for questioning.
There was talk of riots,
they needed every spare man.
But the story never quite went away.
You know how it is with journalists -
we file it away for a rainy day,
then it sticks in our mind
for when we retire and write a best-seller, I wish...
I doubt we'll ever know the truth of it;
but every now and then
some nutter with a convincing sighting
makes a free gift to journalists
with no personal responsibility for us either.
France, Spain, Italy, gipsy communities -
you name it, they know her
except she was never there that day.
The story among her friends is
that she went on a long Mediterranean cruise
with two other ladies.
Yet there's no account of their returning
and there are stories that they all separated
and took up new careers in foreign places
where they acquired new names, locally
so the trail's gone cold.
But stories like his, and hers,
and whether they - well, you know -
never quite go away
and the part she played
though brief, sure was dramatic, so
it's made her a role model for those women -
and there have been many over the years -
whose lives have taken a turn for the worse
(no man can know what it's like
for a woman to hav e to sell herself)
and who see in her story
a hope of life's big U-turn
and all that we really hope for.
God knows we all need one.
Could be a Lloyd-Webber musical,
come to think of it.
After all, she was there
at one of the world's big events
- that most of the media
strangely missed...
Maddalena - it's a beautiful name
in Italian.
And then there's that delicate cake
that Proust dipped in his tea.
There's a place in Italy
where they take her story very seriously,
because some local writer
turned it into a classic of hope for the socially rejected;
a rather 19th century theme.
The critics panned it; but does it matter
whether it's truth or fiction,
if it goes so deep, that it's true in a different sort of way?
It's called 'Maddalena of the Heavenly Happiness';
it sounds better in Italian.
no, it never got translated into English -
it's rather
Catholic
if you know what I mean.
Though it actually took place
in the Near East
or whatever it was called then.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Related quotes
Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXX: Story
Story about future is called imagination
Story about past is called memories
Story about present is called reality
Story that becomes true is called prophecy
Story that becomes unfulfilled is called regret
Story that becomes no end is called boasting
Small story is called experience
Epic story is called history
Forgotten story is called lesson
Story that becomes obsession is called ambition
Story that becomes untold is called secret
Story that becomes go its own way is called life
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Tell Me A Story
Tell me a story that isn't gory
tell me a story that isn't fake
tell me a story where you made a mistake
tell me a story where the cows come home
tell me a story I want to know
tell me a story where the princess finds herself
not a prince who is more like an elf.
Tell me a story that I can laugh out loud
tell me a story where storm makes lighting clouds.
For in the end we only have our stories to tell
what make them funny, give them hell.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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The Stories
The stories
Night bed its mats
And also we are
Wait and see
The narrative begins with the story
The stories of long time ago
Between fact and fiction
The stories from the ends of the earth
And depth of the ocean
We draw the characters and imagine
Live roles
And sail far and far
And overwhelmed with happiness
And the longing pulls us
And eyebrows painted terms on our faces
The story behind the story
Delight our nights
The stories of my grandmother.
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Faded Pages
Recently I started retyping
a manuscript of short stories
I had written twenty years ago.
The pages were faded;
too much time being opened to the sun.
As I typed, I smiled
at the things I had written
and the dialogue I had created.
The stories are about a cat
and looking at the world
through his eyes and thoughts.
I had even created him a language
that I had to write a glossary
at the back of the book to explain
what some of the phrases meant.
There is a vast array of characters
and most have a funny turn.
I also remember what prompted me
to write the stories long ago.
My original intention was to write
one story and one story only,
but a friend of mine at the time
persuaded me to write another and another.
Before long, a volume was finished
with enough stories to start another.
From a one off story I have written over sixty now
about the cat and all his friends.
Now as I flick through these faded pages,
which I haven’t read in years,
I find myself being reunited
with many long lost friends.
26 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Semi-true Story
By: mac mcanally
With his head out the sunroof
And his heart in the right place
Plan b was foolproof
He drove off to her place
He yelled out his feelings
Among other stuff
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
It was too much tequila
Or not quite enough
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the picture is fuzzy
And the details are sorted
It was on the same day that gods own drunk was recorded
A walking tall sheriff and a big cadillac
And me and golf shoes on the hood making tracks
This daring young singer was under attack
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they all run together
And turn out to be
A semi-true story
Well the things that Ive lived
And Ive dreamed
And Ive seen
And Ive heard
Youll take the good with the bad
And be glad that every word
Its a semi-true story
Believe it or not
I made up a few things
And theres some I forgot
But the life and the telling
Are both real to me
And they run like the rain
All the way to the sea
Semi-true stories
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nevermind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
I was not caught
I crossed the line
I was not caught
Though many tried
I live among you
Well disguised
I had to leave
My life behind
I dug some graves
You’ll never find
The story’s told
With facts and lies
I had a name
But never mind
Never mind
Never mind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
I don’t know which
So never mind
Your victory
Was so complete
That some among you
Thought to keep
A record of
Our little lives
The clothes we wore
Our spoons our knives
The games of luck
Our soldiers played
The stones we cut
The songs we made
Our law of peace
Which understands
A husband leads
A wife commands
And all of this
Expressions of
The Sweet Indifference
Some call Love
The High Indifference
Some call Fate
But we had Names
More intimate
Names so deep and
Names so true
They’re blood to me
They’re dust to you
There is no need
That this survive
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
There’s truth that lives...
I could not kill
The way you kill
I could not hate
I tried I failed
You turned me in
At least you tried
You side with them
Whom you despise
This was your heart
This swarm of flies
This was once your mouth
This bowl of lies
You serve them well
I’m not surprised
You’re of their kin
You’re of their kind
Never mind
Never mind
The story’s told
With facts and lies
You own the world
So never mind
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
My woman’s here
My children too
Their graves are safe
From ghosts like you
In places deep
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
song performed by by Leonard Cohen, music by Patrick Leonard, lyrics by Leonard Cohen (2016)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Writer's Author
GOD had written a story
in a book called 'destiny'
all things and even not-a-things are listed
and won't be missed
even Shakespeare could write the beautiful romeo n Juliet,
the story of Othello, Hamlet
or even he could made the beautifullest sonnet
GOD had written about all writer and poet
GOD is writer's author
March 2009
poem by Arif Furqan
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Story Of My Life
The story of my life
is very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave
The story of my life
begins and ends with you
the names are still the same
and the story's still the truth
I was alone
you found my waiting
and made me your own
I was afraid
that somehow I never could be
the man that you wanted of me
You're the story of my life
and every word is true
each chapter sings your name
each page begins with you
It's the story of our times
and never letting go
and if I die today
I wanted you to know
Stay with my here
share with me care with me
stay and be near
and when it began
I'd lie awake every night
just knowing somewhere deep inside
that our affair just might write
The story of my life
it's so very plain to read
it starts the day you came
and ends the day you leave
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Over And Done With
This is the story of our first teacher
Shetland made her jumpers
And the devil made her features
Threw up her hands when my mum said our names
Embroidered all her stories with slanderous claims
it's over and done with
This is the story of losing my virginity
I held my breath and the fey held a trinity
People I'm making no claims to no mystery
But sometimes it feel like
My sex lifes all history
I'm not saying these events didn't
Touch our lives in any way
But, ah, they didn't make the impression
That some people say
This is the story of watching a man dying
The subjects unpopular
But I don't feel like lying
When I think of it now I acted like a sinner
I just washed my hands
Then I went for my dinner.
song performed by by Proclaimers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Person
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six long years
On your trail
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to london and i
I booked myself in at the y ... w.c.a.
I said : "i like it here - can i stay ?
I like it here - can i stay ?
And do you have a vacancy
For a back-scrubber?"
She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me, equally dour
She said : "in the days when you were
Hopelessly poor
I just liked you more..."
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
I went to london and i
I booked myself in at the y ... w.c.a.
I said : "i like it here - can i stay ?
I like it here - can i stay ?
And do you have a vacancy
For a back-scrubber ?"
Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent too long on your trail
Far too long
Chasing your tail
Oh ...
And if you have five seconds to spare
Then i'll tell you the story of my life :
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
That's the story of my life
Sixteen, clumsy and shy
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
The story of my life
That's the story of my life
That's the story of my life
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Truth And Lies
Honesty flying around
The stories inconsistent
You tell me one thing
Another tells me different
Is there any truth left?
Are your words true words?
I know a lie's alive
I've been assured and reassured
Truth and lies
Fake or real
Messin' with my mind
Just take and steal
I'm not seeing straight
Literally, no lie
My eye for truth
Has been shot down, died
No mistakes and yet regret
Comes here and there and then
But when I step back
The situations a win-win
If your story is but true
I will believe it so
I will have made up my mind
Eyesight no longer blind
If only your mouth speaks truth
And your words are lies
I will pay attention & mention
And your story, you will revise
Ill mention your flawed words
Ill bring to notice:
Your story, you told it
My poem, I wrote this
Never in an ever
Fall for a clear lie
I see much much more
There's truth in my eye
poem by Jared Bradford
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11-15-09***- - I Miss Mirth
I've recently taken a long hard look
To see what's missing in this world
Things seem to be getting worse
What is making modern life so cold
Thinking back - - - what did we used to have
That made us eager to get out of bed
What did we have then
That was bouncing around in our head
I think it was the potential for mirth
I awoke expecting some joke to come
I knew a friend or my uncle would dropp by
Or I'd hear a story from an old bum
Sometimes a hobo's stories were best
He's tell us of his travels by rail
And for a nickel
Of lands he'd set sail
But each story always had a good laugh
I was expecting meriment every day
Not just on Christmas Eve
When did I lose this way
It was others making up stories
Just to get my money
Didn't create mirth
Those stories weren't funny
Whether told by my church
Or handed out as financial advice
There is no smile on my face
As I look at the resulta of the roll of modern dice
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Book Of Life
Life is like a book
A mystery
How many chapters will I have
Will the words bring joy or saddness
Success or failure
A book with no forward
For it is written day by day
With the ending known only by one
Will it be a novel, short story
Or an never ending story known by many
Lived by few
Oh how we would like it to be a best seller,
A classic endearing to the end of time
But sorry to say for most of us
Our story will be only be known by few
I will be happy with that
As long as I don't become one of the forgotten
I believe our storys go on
For as long as someone remembers our story.
poem by David Kush
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Inside Story
(eric carmen)
I heard my friends
Talkin bout your reputation
All the things you used to do
They called you cheap
Said a lot of guys had had you
Girl, I dont believe its true, no
But its alright
Im not in it for the glory
Yes, its alright
Got to know the inside story
The inside story
All about your love
About your love
Talkin bout the inside story
All about your love
You say they lied
Well, it really doesnt matter
Doesnt matter what youve done
Turn off the lights
Wont you tell me that you want me
Tell me Im the only one, yeah
cause its alright
Im not in it for the glory
Yes, its alright
Got to know the inside story
The inside story
All about your love
About your love
Talkin bout the inside story
All about your love
Listen, I dont care whats in your past
All I want is for our love to last
And I dont mind if youre a bit too fast
With me
cause its alright
Im not in it for the glory
Yes, its alright
Got to know the inside story
I wanna know the inside story
All about your love
About your love
Talkin bout the inside story
All about your love
Let me know the inside story, yeah
About your love, oh yeah
Got to know myself, oh yeah
song performed by by Eric Carmen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story Ends
Nothing feels right today
All whats left is nothing left to say
Each word seems so cold
And all stories seem told
How did it come this far ?
Is this the way, the way things are ?
Heres where the story fails
How did it come this far ?
Heres where the picture pales
Is this the way things are ?
No, Ive never found the place
To charm your chill, to wrap you in
Whatever the books may say
You get only whats on your way
Beyond our words we crave for more
Another road, another open door
Here is where my life begins
Leaving this world of sense
Here is where fiction begins
Here is where nothing stands.........still
When silence comes in , and creeps underneath the skin
If the lost word is lost and the spent word is spent
This is the time, this is the place where the story ends
Where the story ends
Where the story ends
song performed by by Xymox
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story Of My Life
Words and music by neil diamond
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
And ends the day you leave
The story of my life begins and ends with you
The names are still the same
And the storys still the truth
I was alone.
You found me waiting and made me your own
I was afraid
That somehow I never could be a man that you wanted of me
Youre the story of my life, and every word is true
Each chapter sings your name
Each page begins with you
Its the story of our times and never letting go
If I die today, I wannted yo to know
Stay with me here
Share with me, care with me
Stay and be near
And when it began Id lie awake every night
Just knowing somewhere deep inside
That our affair just might write
The story of my life is very plain to read
It starts the day you came
It ends the day you leave
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hope is a part of Life
Hope is for happiness to an ending
Hope is nothing if you don't beleive
Hope is a shooting star if you see one
Something can never end so, Hope is a part of Life
Hope is delicate from heaven to hell
Hope can't always help the gods
Hope shoudn't be about exciestence
Sometime when you're giving up on something, Hope is a part of Life
Hope can be an empty trail
Hope isn't for punishment or love
Hope is not a welcome guest
When is it that I saw you last time?
is it when we saw Hope is a part of Life
Hope can never be changed
What else that can be hope?
Hope is a passion
Hope can't always save you
Hope is something in Life that doesn't always happen everyday......
poem by Vanessa Sleeth
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Lands Far Away
One eye is made for gathering juice from a peach,
This peach called England, and not Italy.
They roll these eyes, as if goers of lands far away
Result in boredom for themselves, like Italy and Spain.
They roll their arms and strut on their legs,
Both of them caught inside tough weight of fruit and flesh.
One other eye has contacted the Brain, as far as the lane,
And what can inspire us into dreams
As much as sleep?
The English weather has a rainy day, an answer to question,
Then given over a Sunday lunch.
They go to Italy or Spain if tired, yet resent the art of going.
Go all to the beaches of Spain, or all go away.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Fiction and Truthiness
He said:
'The best fiction reminds us of what truth ought to be
and simultaneously calls that truth into being
if it doesn't yet exist.
Poetry is heightened awareness of that Fiction-Truth
heightened because we often are blind to truths we need.
Story telling is the art form which reminds us we are in fact
a small band before the fire, holding back the dark. There we invent
stories of hope to get us through the night.
The writer lives inside what-is- not- yet as a hedge against bad times
which may currently exist, and preserves for the future precious meanings murdered sometimes by the present.
Speaking is a capacity of the thorax, writing is the way the soul speaks.
When speech is silenced we only have our imaginations against bad times and this has saved the world time and time again.
People die, ideas don't; that is the purpose of fiction.
The miracle of life is that I can shake your hand while dreaming of home.
The only true gift of life is that out-pouring of love from us humans into anything. Thwart that and meet Hell.
Truth is not linear; truth now may not be truth later; truth then may not be truth now, Truth travels but it is not the world that has changed it is that the world has changed us.
Find a man obsessed with the absolute truth of anything, religious or scientific, and I will show you a fanatic.
Truth is not enough even if it is true.
Find a man who thinks he is right about anything totally and I will show you a man with a stick ready to use it to prove he is right.
How many times have our ideals of what ought to be allowed us to kill, hurt and harm flesh and blood.
Ideology is a serious disease resulting from a prolonged exposure to Idiots.
The purpose of truth is to make human and life on this planet possible.
Untruth is what destroys human life and this planet.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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