Headed The Other Way
They were nowhere to be seen,
But now the sight defied analysis;
Picking up the story, we wrote this narrative,
Curling my writing utensil, defying the senses.
It was not overabundant but laughable
To see men in pictured form,
The form of animals and crossbreeds,
Looking at the walls, the facilities
And howling too largely for their size.
Behind them was a bloody walkway,
And then they pounced in that way
To avoid me, as if dogs too frightened
By their masters, picturing me as a planet.
The door showed itself open,
And I headed the other direction.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
It's probably why I'm a short story writer. I tend to remember things in the past in narrative form, in story form, and I grew up around people who told stories all the time.
quote by Tobias Wolff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coward
I'm in this form having
walls and ceilings
well constructed.I'm
a thinking form.I'm
the keeper of
my own idea.I'm
in this cave of
my conscience.I'm
in the solitude of
self, where only
forming forms of dreams
coexist with me.I'm
in the shadow of
my form.I'm the keeper
of everything I am and
everything I have, but
I cannot fight against
this coward that lives
inside of me, when I
need to open this door
of self in order to throw out
everything is useless and
to save the meaning of
the things I have to keep.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Just as the water of a river near its mouth, in its final form, is composed largely of many tributaries, so an idea, in its final form, is composed largely of later additions.
I did not think much what I was writing them for, except that I knew I wanted my next novel to be in some less conventional form than straight narrative.
quote by Nicholas Mosley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are some books that refuse to be written. They stand their ground year after year and will not be persuaded. It isn't because the book is not there and worth being written -- it is only because the right form of the story does not present itself. There is only one right form for a story and if you fail to find that form the story will not tell itself.
quote by Mark Twain
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For me, a play is a form of writing which isn't complete until it is interpreted by actors. But it's still a form of writing. And so most of my time is spent thinking about how to write a sentence.
quote by Wallace Shawn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Animals
I know what I need I need you
I cant see nothin else all I can see is you
I dont care what they say about my state of mind
I know whats good for me and you are just my kind
We are animals we are animals we are animals we are animals
I know what I want I want you
Shed your cloths forget your codes
You know this is nothing new
I smell your scent I taste your sweat
I feel this passion too
Lets trust our senses not our minds
Lets break all the rules
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
Come with me run with me leave this world behind
Come to me come with me I know that we will find
We are animals we are animals
We are animals we are animals
We are animals
We are animals
(m.charlton)
Copyright 1989 elgin music
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stella's Birthday March 13, 1719
Stella this day is thirty-four,
(We shan't dispute a year or more:)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled,
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green;
So little is thy form declin'd;
Made up so largely in thy mind.
Oh, would it please the gods to split
Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit;
No age could furnish out a pair
Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair;
With half the lustre of your eyes,
With half your wit, your years, and size.
And then, before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either nymph might have her swain,)
To split my worship too in twain.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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Open The Door - IV
Mom! Open the door
I have been waiting on the door
It is chilly cold, havn't sufficient clothes
Mom! please open the door
the sun is on head
may i get stroke
Mom! please open the door
Mom! open the door
it is raining cats and dogs
my clothes are fully drenched
Mom! please open the door
Don't be so truculent
I shalt be thy obedient son
Please open the door
poem by Ramesh Rai
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On Stella's Birth-Day, 1719
Stella this Day is thirty four,
(We shan't dispute a Year or more)
However Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy Size and Years are doubled,
Since first I saw Thee at Sixteen
The brightest Virgin on the Green,
So little is thy Form declin'd
Made up so largely in thy Mind.
Oh, woud it please the Gods to split
Thy Beauty, Size, and Years, and Wit,
No Age could furnish out a Pair
Of Nymphs so graceful, Wise and fair
With half the Lustre of your Eyes,
With half your Wit, your Years and Size:
And then before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either Nymph might have her Swain,)
To split my Worship too in twain.
poem by Jonathan Swift
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Headed In The Right Direction
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got love as my connection
Theres an angel showing me the way
Been reaching for love all my life
I couldnt find it always one step behind it
Now I know it was mine all the time finally I am
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got love as my protection
Theres no need for me to be afraid
I spend so much time with my head in the clouds
Now that Ive got my feet on the ground
I found that I am
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Ive got faith and intuition telling me that I will be okay
Down the path that I walked there was eyes
Somebody told me that I look like Im glowing
They just dried all the tears from my eyes now I can see that
Chorus
Headed in the right direction
I can see the light of day
Now Ive found my pearl of wisdom
Theres no need for me to be afraid
Headed in the right direction
Theres an angel showing me the way
I have found my inspiration
Headed in the right direction
song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A narrative is like a room on whose walls a number of false doors have been painted; while within the narrative, we have many apparent choices of exit, but when the author leads us to one particular door, we know it is the right one because it opens.
quote by John Updike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The War
There is a sound of thunder afar,
Storm in the south that darkens the day,
Storm of battle and thunder of war,
Well, if it do not roll our way.
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Be not deaf to the sound that warns!
Be not gull'd by a despot's plea!
Are figs of thistles or grapes of thorns?
How should a despot set men free?
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Let your Reforms for a moment go,
Look to your butts and make good aims.
Better a rotten borough or so,
Than a rotten fleet or a city of flames!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Form, be ready to do or die!
Form in freedom's name and the Queen's!
True, that we have a faithful ally,
But only the devil knows what he means!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Possible Peace In An Undying War
A lion and a lamb
Entangled in the likes of war
Headed off to the fiery sea
Marooned on the bloody shore
Battling these dogs of war
A peace within a war
But we haven't the key
To open the opportune door
And on the inside we seek
Salvation for the pain we bore
With an ending so sweet
The whole world under our feet
This ending but a dream
A dream that this war
Will be here nevermore
Nevermore in this life
We shall rapture and fly
Only moments
After we die
poem by Plague Rose
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A Sparrow's Thoughts.... (Number Six)
you can send the lie in the form
of the unemployment check, in the
form of food stamps, in the form
of Medicaid, in the form of new
policies, in the form of charity...
but the truth is you dont give a damn
until you are willing to share all
you have with fairness, until you're
willing to put your shoulders to the
load, until you're willing to get
involved in the work of equality!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Long Poems & Short Stories
Some think that a story has no place
in poetry - 'Put it in the short stories, '
he said, dismissing a poem I wrote
as a narrative, as though such verse
must be relegated to short fiction.
Must I go back to Beowulf, composed
in the first half of the eighth century,
to illustrate the validity of the form
(written in meter without using rime) ?
Robert Browning's The Ring and the Book
is a long poem of dramatic monologues
in twelve books concerning a murder
and an adulterous affair in Florence.
Less scribbling and more reading
might improve one's perspective,
don't you think?
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Only For Me
Down the end of this barroom,
Out of sight of the light in the window
His mind in his whiskey
And his body in a folding chair
Far beyond repair
I enter his vision
He watches me look for my seat
He makes his decision
And he stands to his feet
Lord, its a long way down
It happened to me
Wonderful sight
Only for me
Only for you
It happened to be a light shining through
Form one who was lost and found
Just like me and you
Old man says, young man, my youre looking
Pretty green
Like a stranger to this kind of place
Come sit at my table
Come and look into my face
Ive got a story to tell.
There was a father and son
But that was a long time ago
And when the time came to run
I just couldnt say no
So I left them behind.
It happened to me
Wonderful sight
Only for me
Only for you
It happened to be a light shining through
Form one who was lost and found
Just like me and you
We have seen it before
In times of great sorrow
That human compassion will flow from a well
That has long run dry
It happened to me
Wonderful sight
Only for me
Only for you
It happened to be a light shining through
Form one who was lost and found
Just like me and you
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The book, you understand, was not written for publication. It was the portrayal of my emotions, the analysis of my own soul life during three months of my nineteenth year. I wrote then all the time, just as I do now, but, though the book is in diary form, it is not a diary.
quote by Mary MacLane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Earthshine
On certain nights
When the angles are right
And the moon is a slender crescent
It's circle shows
In a ghostly glow
Of earthly luminescence
Earthshine
A beacon in the night
I can raise my eyes to
Earthshine
Earthshine
A jewel out of reach
Form a dream to rise to
Earthshine
Floating high
In the evening sky
I see my faint reflection
Pale facsimile
Like what others see
When they look in my direction
Earthshine
Stretching out your hand
Full of starlit diamonds
Earthshine
Reflected light
To another's sight
And the moon tells a lover's story
My borrowed face
And my third-hand grace
Only reflect your glory
You're still out of reach
Form a dream to rise to
Earthshine
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Planet Dearth
‘No other life form on the planet
knows negativity, but human ‘kind’..
No other life form on the planet
violates and poisons the Earth
that sustains it, but the human ‘race’..’
oh look, how unhappy that flower is!
how can we cheer it up?
and that oak tree – how stressed it looks!
how shall we help it to unwind?
out there, look, that dolphin
looks really depressed, I wonder
what we can do to raise its spirits?
and that frog – it seems to have
a problem with its self-esteem..
and no princesses handy…
pussy just can’t relax, doctor,
could you prescribe a pill, or
perhaps refer us to a pussychiatrist?
and how that tweetie-pie birdie
carries visible hatred and resentment
like a cage upon its back…
(was it watching Tom and Jerry yesterday..?)
the only animals that show anything of
these signs of neurotic behaviour
are, yes, those who live
close to human kind…
which animal do you take
for your teacher in the art
of living only in the present moment?
*
[with acknowledgements to the Blessed Eckhart Tolle]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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