Drawing-Room
I wanted to open the drawing-room door,
Looking so ordinary and collected;
Knowing my business, I ran in and collided
Running into clouds forming above the City.
I went on and on, but alas I knew the battering
Of the ball, the living in each other.
Spectacular images ran into my watery head,
Why fly as an outcast? Why have flight?
One could not laugh so much as heaven,
Exquisite moments were tampered.
Sitting down by me, the images of clouds
Were produced fortnightly.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Images
I think images are worth repeating
Images repeated from a painting
Images taken from a painting
From a photo worth re-seeing
I love images worth repeating
Project them upon the ceiling
Multiply them with silk screening
See them with a different feeling
Images, oh, images
Images, oh, images
Some say images have no feeling
I think theres a deeper meaning
Mechanical precision or so its seeming
Instigates a cooler feeling
I love multiplicity of screenings
Things born anew display new meanings
I think images are worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, oh, images
Images, images
Im no urban idiot savant
Spewing paint without any order
Im no sphinx, no mystery enigma
What I paint is very ordinary
I dont think Im old or modern
I dont think I think Im thinking
It doesnt matter what Im thinking
Its the images that are worth repeating
And repeating, oh, images
Images
If youre looking for a deeper meaning
Im as deep as this high ceiling
If you think technique is meaning
You might find me very simple
You might think that images boring
Cars and cans and chairs and flowers
You might find me personally boring
Hammer, sickle, mao tse tong
Mao tse tong
Ooohhh, images, images
Images
I think that it bears repeating
The images upon the ceiling
I love images worth repeating
And repeating and repeating
Images, images
Oh, images, oh, images
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And In My Head
I’m in serious need
I feel totally lost
And if I’m asking for help
It’s only because, deep inside of me
I am locked in, crying to be free
And in my head,
All the things ever said and
All the images ever seen
Are running, running but
Never leave my head
He said she said
They did he did she did
See this see that
Over and over
My minds broken vinyl track revolver
I keep asking myself how,
Wondering why it won’t leave my head
I’ve had enough, I close my eyes
And I see even more I can’t block it out
I cry, I need to be free fly without me
And in my head,
All the things ever said and
All the images ever seen
Are running, running but
Never leave my head
poem by Daniel Richards
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Indelible Images
Idelible Images
That first day of school
That first friend
Indelible Images
That first play
That first fight
Idelible Images
That first graduation
That first car
Idelible Images
That first drunk
That first sober
Idelible Images
That first love
That first forget
Idelible Images
That first death
That first realization
Indelible Images
poem by Scott Tetreault
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Pedring
when you said you were coming
the men have already prepared the boats
and the women
their food for the kids
when the clouds drift away and
comes the darker ones
the roads have become deserted
and the city as silent
as a cemetery
nevertheless they know when you come and rage
and everything has prepared for the worst
trees fell last night
the boulevard cracked
and engines of cars drowned
and then the rains fall
all eyes stare forming images
that eventually do not come true
i sleep.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Images
Images.
Images invented.
Images invented to cement.
Images invented to cement and limit,
To give images purpose and intent.
A reason to solidify limitations that prevent,
A bombardment of unrestricted imaginations.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Door I Open To Close
The door I open to close behind me,
Would be less routine...
If I knew,
You'd be awaiting in a room...
To greet me like you use to do.
With a barrage of pent up sentiments.
The door I open to close behind me,
Welcomes me with a peaceful silence...
I did not always find,
When remembering those times...
I wondered where you were,
And that disturbed me.
Today,
When I open that same door to close...
After missing you,
And going through those adjustments we made...
I think of us not having enough trust,
And so willing to give up.
When all I wanted was just five minutes...
To myself.
And you could never understand why.
The door I open to close behind me,
Would be less routine...
If I knew,
You'd be awaiting in a room...
To greet me like you use to do.
Sometimes now I wish,
I had given you ten minutes.
Since that's all you wanted from me to listen.
I'm all ears now,
Wanting to hear your voice!
But you made a choice to leave.
And I can not blame you for choosing to.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Although images of perfection in people's personal lives can cause unhappiness, images of perfect societies - utopian images - can cause monstrous evil. In fact, forcefully changing society to conform to societal images was the greatest cause of evil in the twentieth century.
quote by Dennis Prager
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Images Presented
The image that's presented,
Determines how impressive...
Those pretentious rush to protect.
And the image that's presented,
Has less to do with intellect.
Or competence and its effect,
Upon those expecting...
Much more than an image projected to accept.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented,
Do not feed!
Those images presented,
No one needs now!
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented,
Represent times gone.
Those images presented,
Have been rusted so long.
Those images presented do not feed.
Those images presented no one needs,
Now.
Those images presented represent a decadence.
And they represent with evidence pretentions that are meant.
Images old have molded.
Although repeatedly they have been sold!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The essence of cinema is editing. It's the combination of what can be extraordinary images of people during emotional moments, or images in a general sense, put together in a kind of alchemy.
quote by Francis Ford Coppola
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alas Alone Am I
As despair weaves a cocoon around my shadow
Alas, alone am I with my despair.
I had waited for these clouds to lift I had prayed
For these storms to cease
These deities I had tried to appease
By various diverse means; the day remained grey
The clouds did not move away.
Alas alone am I, and I tired, of constant
Conflictual battle; I do not have the necessary
Tools to open up wisdom's door;
Do not have the fierce strength to do that anymore.
There are cobwebs in my nightmares,
The night is peopled by strange shades;
Alas, alone am I, almost merging with the shadows
Dawn will come, I will walk in thy meadows.
Copyright: Rani Turton
poem by Rani Turton
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Clouds
Stop looking.
Lay back.
Can you see?
Shapes in clouds follow me.
Horse running free.
Camel walking desert dunes.
Ship sailing blue sky.
Stop looking.
Lay back.
Can you see?
Shapes in clouds follow me.
Winged dragon take flight.
Rabbit passes.
Tulip, petals falling.
Imagination growing.
Daydreams flowing.
Finger outlines shape.
One eye closed, now concentrate.
Stop looking.
Lay back.
Can you see?
Shapes in clouds follow me.
Collide, take form.
Breezes blow, rearranging.
Never knowing what materializes next.
Stop looking.
Lay back.
Can you see.
Shapes in clouds follow me.
poem by Gary Kedron
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The desired one is not desired.
Those days’ actresses whose images once
Captivated you, will fail to do now.
The frame in the brain holding those images
Had changed to hold the images of new ones.’.
25.02.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I have wanted to be a fine artist painter, and I reached the point in art schools were I'd like to understand more about images and how images communicate information to people. And I was not getting very far in that from my professors.
quote by John Hench
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Images of Time
The images in my mind is like my thoughts.
Expressing my thoughts is like expressing my feelings.
Words are spoken.All my images are broken.
Broken down into pieces, which can never be made into new dishes.
Those images of past.It takes time to last.
It will last forever for met to take over.
All those images wore my past life.
But it has nothing to do with my past life.
Those images can be forgotten.But not those people.
Those people who are in your images.Can be in a real image.
When you see those people in front of you.
You like to say 'How are you'?
If they say I am fine.Then you will think of those time.
poem by Yash Pradhan
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The Sun In Clouds
The sun in clouds,
Dim, dull and subdued outside,
Has ever lost his fierce sunshine?
The layers of clouds
That hide the sun in distant heaven
Could ever reach the worlds of the sun?
The sun is a giant living ball
That lights a hundred lightless worlds
Like a sole bright eye of a pitch-black heaven;
How the world of minute clouds
Reach the flames of the imperious sun,
Who guts all shams and burns all sins?
The sun is not in clouds,
But the eyes in clouds see so,
Those eyes lose shine in front of the light;
How can little frogs
Stretch beyond the clouds
And reach the truth of the sun’s splendours?
For the eyes caught in hazy clouds,
The proud sun is dull and subdued
And humbled by valiant windstorms;
Crack the clouds and see outside;
The sun is as bright and fierce as ever,
Whom no clouds touch nor storms reach.
Clouds may come and clouds may go,
But the sun remains the same,
A bright glow, far removed from the earth,
In gay abandon of an unattached soul,
With floods of light, thrown all round
For those who see with unclouded eyes.
The sun, so hot, none endeavour to reach;
The sun, so bright, none open their eyes;
The sun, the tough, proud lonely splendour
Reigns over heaven in imperial grace;
None reach his height, none withstand his might,
But, win his heart or avoid his sight.
The scorching heat of his inmost core
Creeps like lava on uneasy skin
Thro’ the layers of thick and black clouds;
His unsubdued heat
Rouses wild whirlwinds
That scatter clouds in the nether world.
Beyond the mortal measures, beyond praise and trials,
The sun shines forever;
Beyond minute clouds in the womb of black sky,
The sun shines forever;
For, the celestial glow should light the world
And meet universal goal.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Those' Images Made
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made.
People love to treasure those images made.
The ones flowered to sugar without a bitter taste.
Those images glammed up to spotlight,
On a public stage.
But behind the scenes indignities can be mean.
Yet...
People love to treasure those images made.
And their minds are affixed to them to defend...
Every blemish that is openly seen.
Since people who love their images made...
Have not been conditioned on reality to feast.
People love to treasure those images made.
Those images created to help them escape,
From depictions of reality.
And the way the displaying of it is portrayed.
People love to treasure those images made,
With an excusing of detrimental flaws and pain shown.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What He Did
as law professor teaching civil and political law
he did not tell his students that he writes poems during some
breaks of their studies.
as the students hurdle a legal problem in marriage
he preoccupies himself with some images: an old weary man
carrying an ax, debarking a tree without leaves.
it can carry him far away to some hills in his mind.
clouds and storms dock on his forehead.
he shakes his head, and goes back to the legal words
right on the page of his book. Finds himself again, strong willed.
Astute. Wise. Objective. Sharp.
A student raises his hand and recites a solution the problem.
He listens and claps his hands.
The class is dismissed and he is left alone in the room
It is 8: 45 in the evening.
Images come again. The tree is finally cut. The barks turn into paper.
He knows now the cause of the decay. Some termites.
The old man is dead. Cut by the ax. The ax is gone.
Who did it? Why?
These are his mind games.
He opens the door of the car and begins to drive himself back home.
He has a poem to write again.
It is about that old man who died beside a tree that he debarked.
It is not more of the ax or termites.
It is the tree. A tree without leaves.
A very lonely tree which is cut.
He is happy now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pareidolia- A Way of Perception
A depressed Guy
Was staring at sky,
Abruptly a form popped up
Assembled from
The lonely wandering clouds,
Appeared to him
Weeping inconsolably;
Suddenly, the warm joy welled up from within,
And the same clouds colluded to carve out,
A laughing form.
(Pareidolia is the phenomenon of finding familiar images in random scenes, like faces in clouds or religious icons in root vegetables)
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
24/05/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Grief
O who will give me tears? Come, all ye springs,
Dwell in my head and eyes; come, clouds
and rain;
My grief hath need of all the watery things
That nature hath produced: let every vein
Suck up a river to supply mine eyes,
My weary weeping eyes, too dry for me,
Unless they get new conduits, new supplies,
To bear them out, and with my state agree.
What are two shallow fords, two little spouts
Of a less world ? the greater is but small,
A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts,
Which want provision in the midst of all.
Verses, ye are too fine a thing, too wise
For my rough sorrows ; cease, be dumb and mute,
Give up your feet and running to mine eyes,
And keep your measures for some lover's lute,
Whose grief allows him music and a rhyme ;
For mine excludes both measure, tune, and time :
Alas, my God!
poem by George Herbert
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Sitting In A Dream
I'm just passing time before the Ball
Playing my guitar
I don't have to be where I don't want to be at all
Maybe I'll go far
Going nowhere, sitting in a dream...
Ah, in a dream
Sitting in a landscape full of sighs
Dream away the day
Making up a tune about the blueness of the skies
This is where I'll stay
Going nowhere, sitting in a dream...
Oh, in a dream
Watching as a red and white balloon
Sails across my mind
In between the images that drift along my tune
Smile as they unwind
Going nowhere, sitting in a dream...
Ah, in a dream
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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