Opening
Open this book after closing it,
A page from a crafty pen is written;
The ink and sheets of paper stay together,
A dagger can not sigh on the word.
The book jests like a scrub and wash,
Cleaning the mind so offered,
The minds themselves exit the shrine,
Worship causes us to listen, to shatter.
This volume concerns us with its joy
And builds into a sandwich called knowledge.
We are offended by readers who just stare,
As they glare at the pages with triumph.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes
Scrub, Scrub, Rub-a dub dub
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning is such a chore.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub, dub
cleaning's such a bore.
Washing, dusting every day,
seems there is no end.
I know that when I'm finished
it will start all over again.
Windows, floors and kitchen sinks
just can't seem to stay clean.
The kids go out. The kids come in
and there's the same old scene.
Wash the clothes. Let them dry.
Put them on to wear.
Before the day is over
there's a spot that wasn't there.
Scrub, scrub, rub-a-dub dub
when will it ever stop?
If I could find those rub-a dub men
I'd gladly give them my mop.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Last Page
I always dread the last page in a book,
especially when the book was good.
So I close it up and put it aside
but some of those pages you can't hide.
They've become a memory to keep.
So the book just goes to sleep
for a while.
And some time in the future out it comes
just like a trusty old friend.
I open it up and start it once again
reading it from beginning to the end.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Book Of Days
Your life is as a book
Written on the pages are the weeks
For you would give anything to take just one look
Into the next chapter, the next page
Each page is a new thought, a new dream
Sometimes it takes so long to pass that page
And sometimes nothing is as it seams
For you know you can not go ahead or back
You know you are where you are
You know you can't change that
As you read page to page, so near to fear
You write the chapters as you go, with each turn
Each turn, each move changes what's to come
And you know each moment could be the last
With this in mind you go so mumb
So numb to the touch, to the thought
You turn page after page
until you reach the 'end'
And only then, you are freed from the title
The title that has kept your thoughts bound, and tight
You turn the pages one by one
You take the pain, take the joy
Until you are done
And your story becomes another on the shelf of eternity
(1/24/2008)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Book Of Life
Is my name written there on those pages bright and fair
Is my name written in the book of life
If you want to be up there then down here you must prepare
And your name must be in the book of life
Get down on your knees and pray you from sin must turn away
Or your name won't be in the book of life
If you'll turn to Jesus now at his feet just humbly bow
Then your name will be in the book of life
Don't you know that Christ was sent that from sin you could repent
So your name could be in the book of life
You will have a great surprise if you fell to recognize
That your name must be in the book of life
Get down on your knees and pray you from sin must turn away
Or your name won't be in the book of life
Don't delay and don't forget that from sin you could repent
Then your name will be in the book of life
Is my name written in the book of life
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen, Learn, Read On
In ages past when spells were cast
In a time of men in steel
When a man was taught no special thing
It was all done by feel
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Hear the song of lovely joan
Her sound so sweet and clear
In the courtroom of the king
Among children and the peers
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
now hear ye the words of taliesyn,
On the foaming beach of the ocean,
In the day of trouble,
I shall be of more service to thee
Than three hundred salmon...
The hare he bounds across the page
Past castles white and fair
Past dreaming chessmen on their boards
With a fools mate as a snare
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
three times I have been born
I know this from meditation...
The bird he flies the distance
From pages two to six
Past minstrels in their boxes
To the waters of the styx
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Dont take the pictures lightly
Listen to their sound
For from their coloured feeling
Experience is found
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
all the sciences of the world are collected in my breast,
For I know what has been, what is now,
And what hereafter will occur...
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Book Of Love
Written by lindsey buckingham and richard dashut.
Walked out, goodbye
I swore I never would cry
Tore a page of my heart
She wants me to be her friend
Im lonely again
Tore a page of my heart
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
In silence the lonely make all their mistakes
Tore a page of my heart
Someone in heaven above
Shop me how to love
Tore a page of my heart
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
Oh, tell me who wrote the book of love
Was it somebody from above
(ha, ha, ha)
Surely he must know all the rules
(ha, ha, ha)
Knowledge not meant for mortal fools
Must have been someone from above
Tell me, who wrote the book of love
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why.............?
The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!
The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.
The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.
Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Book Of Love
In the book of love come of age
When you lose your love, you turn the page
Hey-ho the book of love,
Life is written in your own blood
Say forever and it all sounds fine
When youre holding hands,
With the hands of time
Hey-ho the book of love
Laugh at the dead but tomorrow you cry
Chorus:
My broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Change of lovers endlessly
And this book of love is writing me
Chapter 2 you walk away
But in chapter 3 a man made me stay
Hey-ho the book of love
Why dontcha look up
All the games you played
Chorus
Theyll be sweet love in a darkness
But the book of love
Is a story of your loneliness
Finger tipped it on a holy night
And a page is ripped for a name of life
Check the back cause the datell be due
When theyll throw the book of love at you
They are broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Disappointed right to be
Celebrate a celebrity
K-i-s-s-i-n-g
Ah stupid cupid set me free
Took a look and whatll I see
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amazing Songs
Open the book of love so crying over you,
Over you the volumes of work are written.
Offer music so beloved underneath the feet,
Dancers will follow for the book of love is near.
Musical sounds are like a melody of importance,
Enrapturing our minds as long as we live, forming sounds.
This book of sound carries new meaning superbly,
Amazement corners our mind with action and ammunition.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Read The Book
Dolce said to read the book.
Don’t skip any pages though,
Lizzy; I want you to read it
From cover to cover. Ok lover,
You said and examined the
Book’s covers; the hard leather,
The well sewn pages. You knew
He wrote it without his name on
The spine with the title. It was
As he spoke, the words flowing
Across the page, the meaning
Carried on and over and into
Your head. You stopped on page
Nine; he’d written about the night
He’d screwed you five times, although
No name was mentioned, you knew
It was you. Even the bed and room
Were as it had been, written right
Down to the creaking springs and
The man next door banging on the
Wall with his darn shoe. You read on
Carrying that image with you, the way
He’d caught it all with the right words,
Hammered that night right home like
Some crucified butterfly onto the page
And into your head. You paused at page
Twelve. Some paragraph about some
Lark in the bushes in the park after dark.
That didn’t ring true, at least not with you.
Who was the woman? Who was the screw?
You closed up the book; refused to look
Or read anymore; you wondered who it
Was he’d had that night in the bushes
Beneath the moonlight. Maybe it was just
Poetic licence made up to make it sell well
And the cash machines ring loud and true.
But the bitch in the bushes wasn’t you.
poem by Terry Collett
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Open a Book
To unfurl the articles of a book
I read fashionably the one I partook.
Craving on the combinations like flowers
Sing aside each other, I gathered powers.
Form a scholarly mind in the bottom of the soul,
To force this is pleasant like the casserole.
You cook a book in suns and moons
That split up and become cartoons.
Moods eject some moods to assist
And are embittered by the checklist.
Instead, open a book by the pages of a book
To mean something or a fact or a look.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Blank Pages...
each day
we open the pages of a book
each page is empty
this book of our lives
we write some words
we are careful not to hurt
and be dismayed
we always take the opportunity
the somehow
we also know how to enlighten
ourselves and be happy
with the originality of our thoughts
everyday is always an opportunity
to discover the little wonders of our
unique beings
there is no one like me, and this
i will always say.
i love myself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mr Paddy's Capers.
Just when she thought
She'd found a place alone
To read her book, Mr Paddy
poked his nose between
Her and the open book, so
That pages are blanked out
By his huge head. Mr Paddy
Go off and annoy another,
She said, but he stood there
Determined to be where he
Was, between her and the
Brown covered book, held
Out in her small hands. Oh
Mr Paddy I cannot see the
Pages. Please go off and run
In the garden or in the kitchen
And steal a bone, she said. But
He wouldn't leave her alone,
He pushed his head against her
Young girl body, his damp nose
Dampening her wrist and her
White dress with blue sash, and
Dribble from his lips was wetting
The pages. Mr Paddy please let
Me be, I'm trying to read can't
You see? Mr Paddy's brown eyes
Scanned the pages, nothing there
But scribbled lines upon white paper,
And still he stood wet mouthed with
Big brown eyes and his silly old caper.
poem by Terry Collett
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Watch me!
I am an open book you see,
turn the pages look at me.....
So disturbing this game that you play,
not so smart at the end of the day.
I see through you can't you see,
what part of you isn't me?
Play away, look and see....
so far, so far, you will always be.
Don't mistake my open book,
look deeper inside....for me you mistook.
Thinking always...that is truly me...
my desire is truly to be free...
my book is my own...you will never write my story,
oh...I know...you think its for glory.
No, not now,
no, not ever......
I wish that you could be more clever!
The Writings Of A Writer
When my life is in despair
Against the wall I stand
And out the window stare
Towards the soft clouds
That seem to drift over head
Then in my mind a thought
Buds and blooms into an inspiration
My hand reaches out for papers and pen
Then as thoughts materialize in my mind
Words to describe it become frequent
Then with pen in hand and paper against the wall
I begin to describe everything my mind saw
Things of beauty, things grotesque
Moments of happiness, moments of stress
All captured within an inspiration
After a moments thought
And put down on paper
As a poem, book or a song
After it has been manipulated into shape
Within all the tenderness it can get
The format is laid out and the final closing set
(date written unknown)
poem by David Harris
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A book called life
You find a book. a book unopened for some time. binding worn, title aged and not legible. you open it to find it dusty and blank. it has sat untouched for a quite a while. this book is the story of you. a story not yet written, but exciting non the less. a story to be one of epic, and legend. a story to be passed down for generations. that will be stamped into the pages of history and inspire forever. we all have a story, we simply need to write it.
poem by Nick Feiner
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Home Alone Happy Without Working Computer
Home alone happy without working computer
I take my pen in hand
And slowly write these words –
Let the world click and paste and post
I am out of it for now-
I have before me an evening of any book I like
Of any page I want to write
-
Peace of Mind is one place of attention at a time-
Here weighing each word as I write
I am at home with my inner self-
I hear my own thoughts
I correct them at my own pace.
So many words and so many pages
Have been written in my life-
Now in this one
I am wholly at home
Peaceful, quiet happy
Each word a small blessing
As I write it-
This is the only poem I know
The only page I see
The only place of attention
I give myself and my soul to
At this moment.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Words Which Hold Me Captive
Told Nici I had finished the first book, with starry eyes
she brought the second volume also, I have almost
finished the third one too, she said, and I could not
withstand the charm of this series written for teens,
beautifully sculpted to keep readers on tenterhooks
as hero and heroine were driven apart
Unwillingly at first, trying to withstand its spell, I began
to read, was sucked deep into the story world, every-
thing disappeared and I read until the second book
came to a discordant end, threatening tragedy, I would
have to read the third book also, no stopping this lovely
sheath of dreams from carrying my spirit away
No realism can penetrate or dispel the beautiful illusion
or destroy the magic words which hold me captive -
and I am such a willing victim…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Man in the Chinese Moon
Both Zhang and Tao, and Wang and Chen
They stare at the Chinese moon,
For the fifteenth day of the eighth month
They’ve waited and prayed at noon,
They’ve thought of the woman whose name is known
And written in script and rune,
They ponder her beauty and sinuous shape
As they stare at the round, full moon.
While on some hill, four girls sit still,
Their eyes raised clear to the sky,
They sigh and dream at a cold moonbeam
As they flush, turn red, and cry,
The book could tell them their future loves
But the book is held on high,
And even the children that wait to be born
Are written in ink that’s dry.
The man in the Chinese Moon, Yue Lao,
Is known to them, every one,
He keeps the book under lock and key
Lists every daughter and son,
Writes every lover before they’re born
Their partner, and every swoon,
Then beams and frowns as their wishes sound,
The Man in the Chinese Moon!
11 December 2005
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Thru And Thru
You know that we do take away
We deliver too
Open 24 hours babe
Just waiting on a call from you
Waiting on a call from you
Well I'm in the yellow pages
You just take a look
Look me up under services
You know it's just an open book
Babe it's just an open book
It's just an open book
Well baby
Any minute
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Voodoo Lounge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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