Old Reading
Are you prepared to read on the back?
A brief rest starts the accusations straightaway.
Old wizards propose a solemn business,
That of writing and learning for the role.
They are footsore and tired, like a fatigue,
With orders to open the roasted gates,
The anger has managed solid nothing.
On the back of the book lies a rune empty,
It is magical, it designs your face with stupor.
The faces murdered are sequential mysteries,
Forced by terrible and ferocious animals
That attack due to their age as monsters.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Diamond
it starts as a double face
one for her and another for another
they all love you
despite the lies and deception
they like the gleams of your multiple faces
you give such a magical light
for them
you are a gem
a diamond
you get tired
looking for mud
you want
to bury what magical light is left
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Faces
I cant read faces but i can read yours;
I know it when youre sad or happy,
not through your smile but through your eyes;
and the lines of your forehead,
and the lines of your cheeks...
they tell your secrets and then mystery unfolds.
The beauty of your chin...and the lines of your lips,
they tell me of something that hasn't been told.
Sometimes you laugh, but you're empty inside...
sometimes you frown, but your heart glowed with pride.
Sometimes serious, but your face
has something to hide.
I know coz your eyes tell me everything,
everything within your soul.
You have so many faces...
and i wonder if the world knows.
I wonder if they can read them,
or see what you conceal..
I wonder if they can see your mysteries...
secrets to steal.
And i wonder if they can look into
your eyes like open doors.
I know i cant read faces...
but i can read yours.
poem by Jessel Jane Tevar
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Bed Of Lies
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
Dont think that I can take another empty moment
Dont think that I can fake another hollow smile
Its not enough just to be sorry
Dont think that I could take another talk about it
Just like me you got needs
And theyre only a whisper away
And we softly surrender
To these lives that weve tendered away
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
Dont wanna be the one who turns the whole thing over
Dont wanna be somewhere where I just dont belong
Where its not enough just be sorry
Dont you know I feel the darkness closing in
Tried to be more than me
And I gave till it all went away
And weve only surrendered
To the worst part of these winters weve made
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
I am all that Ill ever be
When you - lay your hands
Over me but dont go weak on me now
I know that its weak
But God help me I need this
I will not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
Im marking it down to learning
cause I am
song performed by by Matchbox Twenty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bed Of Lies
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
Dont think that I can take another empty moment
Dont think that I can fake another hollow smile
Its not enough just to be sorry
Dont think that I could take another talk about it
Just like me you got needs
And theyre only a whisper away
And we softly surrender
To these lives that weve tendered away
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
Dont wanna be the one who turns the whole thing over
Dont wanna be somewhere where I just dont belong
Where its not enough just be sorry
Dont you know I feel the darkness closing in
Tried to be more than me
And I gave till it all went away
And weve only surrendered
To the worst part of these winters weve made
No I would not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
I am
I am all that Ill ever be
When you - lay your hands
Over me but dont go weak on me now
I know that its weak
But God help me I need this
I will not sleep in this bed of lies
So toss me out and turn in
And therell be no rest for these tired eyes
Im marking it down to learning
Im marking it down to learning
cause I am
song performed by by Matchbox 20
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Removal
Remove him from the role he imposes,
So that connections be made for those who propose;
A leader like that needs removal, for a time,
And then this exile has been with us
For a long time, one of the spreading years
And the solution is simple too much.
He must leave forever, to be murdered
By the people, who walk like earthly animals
As fast as strong statements.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Open Book's Monologue (revisited the years later portion of part 16)
Maybe I'm the book, and maybe you're the reader
but who is you? is it not everyone
since I'm open, for all to point at laugh at, out of malice or for fun
because they know my thoughts, they know i love her? !
what did i do?
i never said i love you! ! !
how can they know?
how did i reap what i did now sow? !
The worst part
about being an open book,
is an open book can't close itself, can't have a heart
anyone can know all from just one look
there seems to be something wrong with being too open and honest
but it's too late a book can't close itself
can't move by its own accord to a shelf
an open book can never rest
so now I'm the book, so since im there just read
just read.... and watch my heart, my purpose, my soul, my life, me
watch.... watch them bleed
poem by David Knox
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The Chornicles of a Dark Heart Part 16 The open book's monologue
Red what is it to you black the color of death? maybe maybe not? anyone here play video games? FOR CHAOS? ring any bells help spread the taint more quickly? what might an open book write
what would a open book draw
what would an open book think
open books are predictable
so predict what the picture means
why is black black? why is red O infused? what is the meaning only you know maybe only me...
(added years later)
Maybe I'm the book, and maybe you're the reader
but who is you? is it not everyone
since I'm open, for all to point at laugh at, out of malice or for fun
because they know my thoughts, they know i love her? !
what did i do?
i never said i love you! ! !
how can they know?
how did i reap what i did now sow? !
The worst part
about being an open book,
is an open book can't close itself, can't have a heart
anyone can know all from just one look
there seems to be something wrong with being too open and honest
but it's too late a book can't close itself
can't move by its own accord to a shelf
an open book can never rest
so now I'm the book, so since im there just read
just read.... and watch my heart, my purpose, my soul, my life, me
watch.... watch them bleed
poem by David Knox
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No More Looking Back
Walking along a crowded street
I see thousands of faces before me.
Then I see a face that I used to know
Long ago in my life story.
It starts me thinking about the things you said
For your image is still inside me.
The past is gone but in my head
Youre still walking along beside me.
Is it something playing tricks with my eyes
Or just an illusion deceiving me,
Or is it someone in a disguise
Or visions of things that used to be?
But lately Ive been going to
All the places that we once knew,
And just when I think that I am free of you
I keep seeing the things that remind me of you,
And just when I think youre out of my head
I hear a song that you sang or see a book that you read.
Then youre in every bar, youre in every caf,
Youre driving every car, I see you everyday,
But youre not really there cos you belong to yesterday.
No more looking back,
No more living in the past,
Yesterdays gone and thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back.
Got to be hard,
Yeah, look straight ahead.
That s the only way its going to be,
Yesterdays gone and thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back,
Perhaps someday Ill stop needing you,
Then maybe one day Ill be free of you.
But lately Ive been going to
All the places that remind me of you.
And just when I think youre out of my head
I hear a record you played or see a book that you read.
Then youre in every bar, youre in every caf,
Youre driving every car, I see you everyday
But youre not really there cos you belong to yesterday.
No more looking back,
No more living in the past.
Yesterdays gone, thats a fact,
Now theres no more looking back.
No more looking back.
No more living in the past.
Yesterdays gone, thats a fact.
Now theres no more looking back.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bad Old Days
The summer of nineteen eighteen
I read The Jungle and The
Research Magnificent. That fall
My father died and my aunt
Took me to Chicago to live.
The first thing I did was to take
A streetcar to the stockyards.
In the winter afternoon,
Gritty and fetid, I walked
Through the filthy snow, through the
Squalid streets, looking shyly
Into the people’s faces,
Those who were home in the daytime.
Debauched and exhausted faces,
Starved and looted brains, faces
Like the faces in the senile
And insane wards of charity
Hospitals. Predatory
Faces of little children.
Then as the soiled twilight darkened,
Under the green gas lamps, and the
Sputtering purple arc lamps,
The faces of the men coming
Home from work, some still alive with
The last pulse of hope or courage,
Some sly and bitter, some smart and
Silly, most of them already
Broken and empty, no life,
Only blinding tiredness, worse
Than any tired animal.
The sour smells of a thousand
Suppers of fried potatoes and
Fried cabbage bled into the street.
I was giddy and sick, and out
Of my misery I felt rising
A terrible anger and out
Of the anger, an absolute vow.
Today the evil is clean
And prosperous, but it is
Everywhere, you don’t have to
Take a streetcar to find it,
And it is the same evil.
And the misery, and the
Anger, and the vow are the same.
poem by Kenneth Rexroth
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The End Of The Chapter
Ah, yes, the chapter ends to-day;
We even lay the book away;
But oh, how sweet the moments sped
Before the final page was read!
We tried to read between the lines
The Author's deep-concealed designs;
But scant reward such search secures;
You saw my heart and I saw yours.
The Master,--He who penned the page
And bade us read it,--He is sage:
And what he orders, you and I
Can but obey, nor question why.
We read together and forgot
The world about us. Time was not.
Unheeded and unfelt, it fled.
We read and hardly knew we read.
Until beneath a sadder sun,
We came to know the book was done.
Then, as our minds were but new lit,
It dawned upon us what was writ;
And we were startled. In our eyes,
Looked forth the light of great surprise.
Then as a deep-toned tocsin tolls,
A voice spoke forth: 'Behold your souls!'
I do, I do. I cannot look
Into your eyes: so close the book.
But brought it grief or brought it bliss,
No other page shall read like this!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Procrastination At 6 A.m.
the book is open
page 103 is waiting
to be read and to be
understood yet
you are into something
more that pleases your hands
it is the action now and not
the contemplation
it is the moving on with
what the lips shall utter
to make you understand what
is losing and what is regaining
what is it to decompose and
retake the composure
you do not read between the
lines of a fusing self
the book closes upon itself
showing you the face of the
trunk, solid, stoic, and
bland.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lost In A Book
SHHH!
don't bother me
I'm lost in a book
mixed up with
the complicated plots
and outrageous characters
when i'm lost in a book
I don't have to think
about my life
I'll get stuck in
a fantasy world
and never
have to come back
home again
one book
after another
I read, read, read
different places
different people
a new world
I start fresh
each time
I open up a new book
when i'm lost in a book
I am safe
no one can hurt me
I'm happy
when I'm lost
in a book
poem by Annie Janine
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This Song
Nothing left in me to fight for.
Go with all the rest.
You know what it is inside me.
Carry me back.
This song is all I have to give now.
Nothing more to say.
Words are running out, there's no more.
Carry me back.
I, I'm tired, torn, but trying.
Now all hope lies with you.
Carry me back home again.
A new world built on all the good parts.
Words are what we are, and words are where it starts.
Nothing ever brings me home. x8
song performed by by Quarashi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Refusal to Conform
I'm so tired of being sensible,
Tired of being wise,
All of the things I should do,
It's lies, lies, lies!
I want to get drunk instead,
I want to get right out of my head,
All of the things you told me to do,
All the ways I could have pleased you,
It's lies, lies, lies!
It comes as no surprise
That getting drunk is the only way out,
Let me stand on the rooftops and shout
'Lies, lies, lies! '
You'd have liked me to be a good boy,
Someone your colleagues could employ,
Someone who fitted in,
Who didn't have the courage to sin,
Someone to make you proud,
Someone who didn't shout out loud
'It's lies, lies, lies! '
I wasn't prepared to say yes to you,
I wasn't prepared to do what you do,
Go to hell, old father,
It's lies, lies, lies,
And that is the way a hero dies!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Inferior Man
He grovels at shooting ranges,
the peicemeal remnants of
luck that he cannot make
for himself. Greed,
laughing at the portent,
he is wholly fraught in his
present goodness. The wizards
and gods present his presentiment.
What call does he make to the
blue mountain ridge? His anguish.
What makes him laugh the most
is the suffering of animals.He
kills animals with high-powered weapons made
in Connecticut. They discharge back
back into his gloomy face, a
face to be reckoned with, red
and drunken with self-destruction.
His sex is violent and unworthy,
pocketed in $100-dollar jeans
he never paid for, his wives paying
him to master gravvity and graveness.
They are well-dressed, and they never think well enough,
or see the storm ahead.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Good Lives
There's a plastic toy four door in the cereal box and
He's licking off the sugar off the breakfast of chumps
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie
There is no floor 13 there's not even a second story
You got one to tell and its sad as hell
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie
Grad school kid with wall street glib
Got a suit and a tie and a record with winners
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie
I'm on my way back home now
Good lives are gold, like the oldest story
Will mine be told while I'm still young and horney
I know my role is to beond confusion
Set the clock back when I'm growing old
This kid came over and I let him crash
But he went into my wallet and he grabbed my cash
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie
And the good girlfriend she turned me in
I was lying with my eyes about adultery sin
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie
I'm on my way back home now
Good lives are gold, like the oldest story
Will mine be told while I'm still young and horney
I know my role is to beond confusion
Set the clock back when I'm growing old
Never wanted to be like you or all the rest
I've always been the first one to settle for second best
I never wanted to be I never wanted to be I never wanted to be
Like you
Good lives are gold, like the oldest story
Will mine be told while I'm still young and horney
I know my role is to beond confusion
Set the clock back when I'm growing old
Promise that forever we will never get better at growing up and learning to lie x4
song performed by by Eve 6
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I cannot.....
I cannot relax and read a book
There is always dinner to cook
I cannot think of staring into space
I may miss a chance in the rat race
I cannot sit back and read a novel
There will be snow in the pathway to shovel
I cannot spend an extra fifteen minutes in bed
There is always breakfast to be prepared
I cannot invite friends on weekdays to tea
There is always kids’ homework to oversee
I cannot, I cannot, I cannot
I am tired of being that super robot
I now need to break free from this drudgery
And stop feeling guilty endlessly
poem by Sandra Martyres
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The Book I Read
Im writing bout the
Book I read
I have to sing about the
Book I read
Im embarassed to admit it hit the soft spot in my heart
When I found out you wrote the
Book I read so
Take my shoulders as they touch your arms ive
Got little cold chills but I feel alright the
Book I read was in your eyes oh oh
Oh...Im living in the future.
I feel wonderful.
Im tipping over backwards
Im so ambitious
Im looking back im
Running a race and youre the book I read so
Feel my fingers as they
Touch your arms
Im spinning around but I feel alright
The book I read was in your eyes
Na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
Oooooh...Im living in the future
I feel wonderful
Im tipping over backwards
Im so ambitious
Im looking back im
Running a race and youre the books I read so
Feel my fingers as they touch you arms im
Spinning around and I feel alright
The book I read was in your eyes
Na na na na na...na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na na
Na na na na...na na na na na na na na
Na na na na...oh oh oh oh oh oh oooh..
song performed by by Talking Heads
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Asthenia
Last night it came as a picture
With a good reason, a warning sign
This place is void of all passion
If you can imagine it's easy if you try
Believe me I failed this effort
I wrote a reminder this wasn't a vision
This time where are you Houston
Is somebody out there will somebody listen
Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
I hope I won't forget you
My head is made up of memories
Most of them useless delusions
This room is bored of rehearsal
And sick of the boundaries
I miss you so much
Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
This time I don't want to
Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
I hope I won't forget you
Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
This time I don't want to
Should I go back should I go back should I
I feel alone and tired
Should I go back should I go back should I
I hope I won't forget you
song performed by by Blink 182
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The profession of book writing makes horse racing seem like a solid, stable business.
quote by John Steinbeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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