Angle of Geese
How shall we adorn
Recognition with our speech?—
Now the dead firstborn
Will lag in the wake of words.
Custom intervenes;
We are civil, something more:
More than language means,
The mute presence mulls and marks.
Almost of a mind,
We take measure of the loss;
I am slow to find
The mere margin of repose.
And one November
It was longer in the watch,
As if forever,
Of the huge ancestral goose.
So much symmetry!—
Like the pale angle of time
And eternity.
The great shape labored and fell.
Quit of hope and hurt,
It held a motionless gaze
Wide of time, alert,
On the dark distant flurry.
poem by Navarre Scott Momaday
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love For Language
Sound denotes the tune
Tune shapes the word
Words sprout of strong feelings
Feelings have no limit, no boundary
But it is clothed by the language
Language endows with the identity
Identity confers recognition
Recognition offers self esteem
To the human beings in the society
Thus everyone has to devote time
and give all out efforts for protection
restoration and growth of one's own language.
poem by Ratnakar Rout
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... 'The Faithful Witness
Faithful Witness from before creations birth
The greatest ruler of all the kings on earth
He's the firstborn to have risen from the dead
The King of all kings is now our Living Head
The world is changing and people drift away
Yet still the Faithful Witness is here today
Firstborn of the dead, Ruler of God's kingdom
He's the One Who was and is and is to come
To Him may all the glory for ever be
For by His blood He cleansed us and set us free
Solemn words are spoken from the Great Amen
As we hear Him speaking to the church again.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
In making a speech one must study three points: first, the means of producing persuasion; second, the language; third the proper arrangement of the various parts of the speech.
Wake Up Dead
I sneak in my own house
Its four in the morning
I had too much to drink
Said I was out with the boys
I creep in my bedroom
I slip into bed,
I know if I wake her,
Ill wake up dead
Chorus:
I wonder, will she find out,
About the other, other lover.
Diana.
Wake up dead, you die
Wake up dead, and buried.
Wake up dead, you die
Wake up dead.
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Want To Wake Up
I heard what you said, and I can tell you its true
I heard youve said that I am crazy about you
Turn in my sleep, the bad dream is over
Think of you and shall I ever recover?
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
I stood at the kitchen-sink, my radio played
Songs like tainted love and love is strange
As I listened and the words hit my ears
I cried sudden tears
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
Wake up
(wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up)
(its mad, its mad, its mad)
Its mad, to be in love with someone else
When youre in love with him, shes in love with me
But you know as well as I do
I can never think of anyone but you
(all my life,
All my life
I want to wake up)
Play with fire, play with guns
Its easy to impress someone
Turning in my sleep, you call me a fool
To fall in love, is it so uncool?
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
Now, I want to wake up
Wake up
(wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up, with you, oh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh - oooh)
I, I want to wake up, with you, oh, ooh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh) I want to wake up, wake up, wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up, wake up, wake up with you
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh) I want to wake up, ooh, ooh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
Ooh
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ramdas, Start Talking With New Language!
Ramdas, start Talking with New Language,
Talk with people and every life,
That language which can take world to new dimension,
Or world shine with beauty and freshness,
Be the one among builders of new world!
Language of love and acceptance,
language that comes from the
depth of the heart,
affectionate and humble,
language that is full of gratitude,
Free of doubts and fear, Language of smile and presence
of mind,
Mindfulness which uses silence
and words well balanced,
the world to new dimensions,
Make world Look like a new world in the light of wisdom!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doing the right thing.....
Sometimes it means giving in
When you know that nothing else matter
Sometimes it means needing to be quiet
When words can no longer deliver the message
Sometimes it means going separate ways
When things have gotten unbearable and hopeless
Sometimes it means turning away
When your presence will do more harm than good
Sometimes it means giving up your dreams
When you no longer have time to dream
Sometimes it means stop hoping
When there's nothing else to hope for
Sometimes it means giving up your reasons
When you know that they just don't fit
Sometimes it means masking your true feelings
When you know that you have to put up a face
Sometimes it means keeping the love within your heart
When you know that it can only bring pain.
poem by Malaya Bodlaver
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Everything that we inherit, the rain, the skies, the speech, and anybody who works in the English language in Ireland knows that there's the dead ghost of Gaelic in the language we use and listen to and that those things will reflect our Irish identity.
quote by John McGahern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Violating The Tradition Of The Village
it is the custom of
this village
we have to visit the
dead
console the bereaved
and bring the flowers
and offer the prayers
my wife complains
there are five who are dead now
but i do not really bother
i ask her: when i go there
shall they wake up and
live again?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Our civil laws will never be supple enough to fit the immense and changing variety of facts. Laws change more slowly than custom, and though dangerous when they fall behind the times are more dangerous still when they presume to anticipate custom.
quote by Marguerite Yourcenar
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Language is legislation, speech is its code. We do not see the power which is in speech because we forget that all speech is a classification, and that all classifications are oppressive.
quote by Roland Barthes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Body language is a very powerful tool. We had body language before we had speech, and apparently, 80% of what you understand in a conversation is read through the body, not the words.
quote by Deborah Bull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A language least spoken...
Its not just a cast of words,
a play of rhymes,
an irony of thoughts,
dreamed up hyperboles,
or a medley of figures of speech.
Its a poet's heart,
his only companion,
his muses, his love,
grave pain, agony,
a written laughter.
Its a poets mirror,
in which he shows himself,
his vision,
a sight for the blind,
his thoughts,
touching your lives.
Poetry:
Its though a cast of words,
but uncannily placed in a language,
a language with the same grammar,
but still; least spoken.
poem by Chaitanya Dorwat
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Custom Machine
Check my custom machine
Well shes metal flake blue with a corvette grill
(check my custom machine)
And they say it looks better when shes standin still
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Well with naugahyde bucket seats in front and back
(check my custom machine)
Everything is chrome, man, even my jack
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
With stereophonic speaker set with fibrosonic sound
(check my custom machine)
Magnesium spokes, it stands an inch off the ground
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I ascribe a basic importance to the phenomenon of language. To speak means to be in a position to use a certain syntax, to grasp the morphology of this or that language, but it means above all to assume a culture, to support the weight of a civilization.
quote by Frantz Fanon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Route To Success
There sure is a route to success
Or similarly enhancement of progress
Divinity intervenes but only where there exist imagination
receptive mindset upholds human vision and sets it to a higher standard
Materialistic dreams give way to a promising ambition
Serenity intervenes but only where decisiveness becomes a common place
Decision makes an individual
It is also like a residual
Where pro activity is the manual
Tranquillity intervenes but only where perseverance has tentacles
Endurance overcome the tackles
Assurances breaks its shackles
There sure is a route to success
Or similarly enhancement of progress
poem by Khalifa Mustapha
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If words could kill
If words could kill,
then kill they will
without impunity
reaching out
and sucking in
and circle out.
Still a leader
prohibited by law
rages his hatred out
in a neighbouring country
and watch his words spread
by the media of his own land.
Now, a great man lies dead
who could have taken
his country to civil war,
but chose peace
and the Lord instead
chopped to pieces
with a Panga-blade
slaughtered without mercy
or conscience.
Where do we draw the line
and when and where
does the killings stop?
What will this government do
when civil war erupts
and military trained white men
take up the gun?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Good Speech
Think not, because thine inmost heart means well,
Thou hast the freedom of rude speech: sweet words
Are like the voices of returning birds
Filling the soul with summer, or a bell
That calls the weary and the sick to prayer.
Even as thy thought, so let thy speech be fair.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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A Linguini
I am the pronoun prisoner;
'I '
the letter's very shape
is a single bar;
many taken together
my prison make,
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
all lined up in a single poem-
sometimes too many.
We has the 'w'
open-ended to the sky
posture of the supplicant
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
all together taken
are the congregation praying.
Me has the 'm' all battened down
closed to further input
and scrutiny-
mmmmmmmmmmmmmm
reminds me of soldiers
off to war; 5th battalion.
The'u' in us
is my favorite symbol,
reminds me of home.
uuuuuuuuuuuuu
a wonderful image,
a fire place,
a cord of wood nearby.
Each letter I think
is part of the art,
little sculpture pieces
which added up
contain meaning
transmitted linguistically.
For me, of course, poetically.
there's nothing better conjugated
than a wonderful poem,
given and received.
If these shapes
on paper
convey short and long term
ideas, and feelings,
then I am content
to worship them
in their paper-based cathedrals.
So drawn my eye
so touched my soul
by word miens and countenances
it must be for me
a form of language-love-
good thing
for a poet to have;
like children on a page playing,
we tend to watch them there
Love, Pride and Anxiety
all in the mix conveyed.
Language is the arching sky
under which this all plays,
the linguistic linguini
we serve ourselves
for sustenance
night and day;
expanding and limiting
all we think or say;
revealing and concealing.
Words, and meanings are like play,
Excuse me while I Capitalize;
but lower case seems humbler
(ode to ee cummings)
but, then one can OverThink
any thing
and end up with mere wonder.
that goes no where,
has no second set.
But, again-
here the double guess;
language facilitates and confounds
something animals I think
know nothing of
cursed or blessed you think?
Still, it is all we have to communicate meanings.
Language is there at birth,
there at death,
weddings, war and famine.
With it we intermingle,
mute or loud,
our feelings.
We cannot be who we are
or are not
without it.
Needs and deeds are acted out
but, are mute until language intervenes.
Any powerful deed does not exist
if it goes unrecorded,
to a generation it is lost
to time
receding.
But add to it heroic words
or language colorful or condemning,
each deed is immortalized
memorized
introduced to each generation;
never-ending; culture-fused.
What magic here!
What wonder is this
to make pronouns and adverbs
the ultimate form
of word-play and human alchemy;
deed to word form genuine gold,
learning, generations, culture.
No, there is art here too
language art,
representational and otherwise;
the wonder of it
all living underneath
the mind's fine canopy.
Oh, watch next time
your 'P's and 'Q's'
Scrutinize their shape,
place them ever so gently upon
that lovingly written page.
No small deed here,
no greater responsibility;
this by the way
linguistically
does to me
smell like linguini.
Learn to play-
Language is good for you.
Good Bye.
Humm...notice how the 'G' seems to wave.
Ah, maybe it's only Me.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Brevity
Where leaves abound, much fruit is rarely found,
When words are more, finding much sense is hard,
As when nuggets are dug up from the ground,
Dross makes mountains, while gold yields but a shard;
We laud marksmen, when hitting with less shots,
Deftness as gauged in thrift of bullets spared,
So too, with speech of few words saying lots,
Whereby hearing, we know how well it fared;
Do nicer things, with less, make beauty be?
Like comely girl with shortened speech and dress?
But one is mute when there's nothing to say,
The way silence of sages would impress;
.......Like nudity, a curt fashion statement,
.......Of those who dared to say: 'Please No Comment.'
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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