An Acrobat Reader's Note
you may write whichever way you want
but i will read with a 100 per cent
precision speed of a heart
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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My Education
At school I sometimes read a book,
And learned a lot of lessons;
Some small amount of pains I took,
And showed much acquiescence
In what my masters said, good men!
Yet after all I quite
Forgot the most of it: but then
I learned to write.
At Lincoln's Inn I'd read a brief,
Abstract a title, study
Great paper-piles, beyond belief
Inelegant and muddy:
The whole of these as time went by
I soon forgot: indeed
I tried to: yes: but by and by
I learned to read.
By help of Latin, Greek and Law
I now can write and read too:
Then perish each forgotten saw,
Each fact I do not need too:
But still whichever way I turn
At one sad task I stick:
I fear that I shall never learn
Arithmetic.
poem by James Kenneth Stephen

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The Fairness Of The Choices....
we choose
that is basic
whether to write
about the blooming
cherry blossom
come spring
or the falling
and wilting and
then rotting of
the leaves of autumn
sometimes
whichever way is that
whether to choose
what is inside
and shy away from
what is outside
whether you turn
left or
take the right
side of the two-faced
road
somehow
there is this fairness
of one's choosing
whether there is pain
or joy
beauty remains
unabandoned
truth resides in
both houses
and peeps in any
window
it is the same house
actually
the same road
same sky
same river
same heart
whatever, whichever
at the
end.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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I read somewhere that 77 per cent of all the mentally ill live in poverty. Actually, I'm more intrigued by the 23 per cent who are apparently doing quite well for themselves.
quote by Jerry Garcia

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam

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Here's the truth. The proposed top rate of income tax is not 50 per cent. It is 50 per cent plus 1.5 per cent national insurance paid by employees plus 13.3 per cent paid by employers. That's not 50 per cent. Two years from now, Britain will have the highest tax rate on earned income of any developed country.
quote by Andrew Lloyd Webber

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~ O' Poetry I Read I Write ~
~ O' POETRY I READ I WRITE ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 December,2009.
Poetry ~
I read I read I read
Without asking,
Knowing why?
Poetry ~
I write I write I write
Without asking,
Knowing why?
O' Poetry ~
Read n’ write
To share
Dare n’ bare,
Don’t care
Love to dye
By
Hi and fie.
.
O' Poetry ~
Life I buy
Never sell bye bye
All I’ll do until I die
Lo! I’m no hi-fi.
----
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.

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A Song About You
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You’re all I can every think about
How you flood my dreams each night
How thinking of you takes my breath away
When I look up to the satellites
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
The long lost butterflies returned
How I hope my number you’ll dial
And how your memory smothers me with smiles
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You were the only one
Who had enough of me to break my heart
And when love took over my heart
You tore it all apart.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
I gave you my heart
Caught up in the thought
That we were off to a great start
But how you threw a damn dart
Right into the center of my heart
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
About how you crushed my heart
Not bothering to look back.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
poem by Jess Schwarcz

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Steel Of Dreams
I write to forge thought
to timelessness..
as night gives way to light of day
morning rays transform
gray-scale vision
with magical, gradient, immaculate precision.
I write forging images
cold-rolled dialect
hammered for description
angles I select..
pulled red from the coals
these dreams are annealed
when shape is set,
feelings are revealed.
My anvil and hammer
transform wrought iron vision
with artistic, splendid, immaculate precision!
poem by Robert Scott Cohn

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Captaincy is 90 per cent luck and 10 per cent skill. But don't try it without that 10 per cent.
quote by Richie Benaud

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers

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She Is Sleepless, She Is Probing
They read your lines
They perhaps like you
They try to read you
In between
she is sleepless
And she pities you
she is probing
And she writes for you too
And you feel so honored
Comes our arrogance
You say you write
Only for yourself
For art’s sake
You say you cannot
Write for no other
You say you cannot
Stop writing
Your essence is just that
To write for no other
To write or you die
Be kind
Let them read you through the night
Let them follow you
Warn them though
They may have followed
A blind man eking his way through
His darkness
Without even a cane to feel his way.
The Virgin Mary
And Veronica
The crying mother
And the cloth to wipe a bloody face
Don’t stretch further
There is no Christ in me.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Our fifty principal cities contain 39.3 per cent of our entire German population, and 45.8 per cent of the Irish. Our ten larger cities only nine per cent of the entire population, but 23 per cent of the foreign.
quote by Josiah Strong

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writing Poetry
Some people write poetry
to fulfil their dream,
others write it as a personal diary.
While yet more write to protest.
Some write sonnets
for unfrequented love.
Some bring laughter
to sad faces somewhere,
while others dwell on memories
that they would like to share.
Some write of love, while
others write of God.
Write as you will on anything,
but the main point is that you write,
and give joy to all that will read.
poem by David Harris

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One can't write without having read - you have to read before beginning to write - and universities offer a very good opportunity to read.
quote by Nathalie Sarraute

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Write With My Heart
I write with my heart
My heart on my sleeve
I'm open and honest
At lest I try to be
I never question
If you're wrong
I never think
You're a mistake
To me you're just human
Just like me
I am who I say
I am whom I write
My life story is here
With each stanza I write
People they ask
Am I really for real
Yes I say with pride
Read the story of my life
poem by Kaila George

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Closest Is Always The Most Fun
I like to do this irrational thing
Some spirit of irony beckons me forward
Into this folly and fun, so onward I charge, onward I fling
My heart's words into this inked paper, praying they are ignored
Because the subject I write of is right there
Yep she's right there
Right here
This is when and why I choose to write
Because she is right there
So I write, I like to write as she watches
In complete ignorance; or that's the idea
Maybe she does know, but probably not
No one can read my handwriting, no one can read my thought
She won't see through the metaphor
How could she know it's her, she'd never it is her who it's all for
I play this fun game of risk and love
Throw my inhibition and write when she's on my right
Haha, I can write whatever I want and no one
Will eve know, surely I have won
Surely they will not see it's about them
I even tell them I am writing
I even allude to what I am writing
So roll the dice, pick a card, buy a stock
Let's take the risk
I'll do it and you'll never know
Irony calls to me to make it more and more
Obvious, you don't even notice me
I dare you to notice this
I dare you.
poem by David Knox

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Between rounds of speed chess I read enough of a programming manual to teach myself to write programs on the school's DEC mainframe in the language Basic.
quote by Eric Allin Cornell

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The depth of reading
To know I read; to learn I read.
To teach I read; to write I read.
To praise or criticize I read.
Atheists have known of religion
Deeper than theists have known.
01.09.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Roses In The Wind
take tribulations
like the roses in the wind
whichever way the breeze comes
the roses bow majestically
taking all in their stride
smile and smile to the wind
bow and bow in the wind
take criticisms like the roses
whichever way they come
stand tall like the roses
whichever way the breeze comes
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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Poetic Co -existence
when i write
there you are, you read
and i do not demand much
if you comment
when you write
i read yours too, and you do not demand much
if i copy your lines
and put them inside my heart
for that is the only
towards a symbiosis
of our mutual poetics
like cigar to my lips
like strawberry candy to my tongue
like rib from my side
like bed to my body
like mouth to my finger
like thighs to my
strong hands
like firewood to my
forest nights
like tent to my rain
like moon to my
winter roof.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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