The first lesson of life on Mother's lap!
*How sad my poor Mom pawned her earrings for my books and she replaced some cloves on her earlobe?
Poor Mother is an Autumn in the chilly Winter.
That warmth you never get anywhere?
She reads a passage from the book of life
Keeping me as a soft toy on her lap.
'Hey! My little rascal what you see in the books?
One day you have to be there and see from your visual eye.
Mountains, Seas, Rivers, Brooks, Streams
Caves, Animals, Real human and else!
I remember one full Moon day she asked;
'What's your intension Johnny? '
I said that I want to be a Pilot!
Then she said with a wry smile;
'Somehow that's good, but what you gain from the barren sky?
Try to be a Skin Diver if possible at least you could see the hidden treasure at the mysterious bottom of the Ocean! '
Humbly to all Mothers in the World!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Johnny went to Hollywood
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
You shoulda seen him at the prom back in high school
You woulda bet he’s gonna be a star
Dancin’ with the queen with his tux and his crown on
Now Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny poor Johnny
He played Bo Decker when the senior class did “Bus Stop”
He had the junior girls all in a rage
Lookin’ like James Dean in a leather coat and t-shirt
You’da sworn that Johnny was born for the stage
Go Johnny! Go Johnny!
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny, poor Johnny
He nearly got himself a diet Coke commercial
But they said he didn’t fit the part
Now he plays a waiter in a small café downtown
The way he says, “What will you have? ” is such an art!
Go Johnny! Go Johnny!
Johnny went to Hollywood
Said he’s gonna be a star
Things didn’t turn out so good
Johnny’s livin’ in his car
Poor Johnny, poor Johnny
poem by KMC Centlivre
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Picture-Books in Winter
Summer fading, winter comes--
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.
Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.
All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.
We may see how all things are
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.
How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Burn Those Books
I would love to believe
That education was a key
To open the jailed opportunities
I kept on comprehending
That education had by all means
Been a hero to rescue
All the captured visions
But today I turn around
And shout aloud up in the mountains
Today I come to disclose
The hidden truth
And I continue to voice out
'BURN ALL THOSE BOOKS'
I have seen so much cruelty
I have experienced the devil
All in human's body
conserved by the minds
And captivated by all their hearts
But so I never turned back from saying
BURN ALL THOSE BOOKS!
Racism, Poverty and war
But yet have all this stapled papers
Attached together to form a book
Then what could be the significancy of it?
I say put all of those in tha burning flames
Because the world is dieying regardless,
And they are very much useless
I say:
'Burn All Those Books'
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Poor Skeleton Steps Out
Poor skeleton steps out,
Dressed up in bad blood,
Bad brains, bad thoughts, and others deeds.
Poor skeleton no doubt,
One of these days,
You can cast aside your human, be free.
When the cities run with blood,
And you drink our health in mud,
All flesh be gone.
Save your dry and joyous shout,
For the day poor skeleton steps out.
Poor skeleton steps out,
Sprung from his life sentence,
Deep inside some muscle mask.
Poor skeleton devout,
Propping up truck drivers,
Filmstars, thieves or queens, your brave task.
When technology is rust,
And you write your book in dust,
All flesh be gone.
Cant buy tickets from a tout,
For the day poor skeleton steps out.
Poor skeleton steps out,
Liberated from sex organs,
And brown, black, white skin.
Poor skeleton you lout,
Dont you think that we might,
Like to have been asked to join in?
For good skeletons are we,
And were dying to be free,
All flesh be gone.
I will scream or sulk and pout,
Until my poor skeleton steps out.
Better watch out, here comes bony boy.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears
Tears, I poured from my eyes
you may have different names in your books.
dew, mirage, moisture, fog, mist, rainbow and rain
Those are mine.
Yoy may have different names
oceans, seas, rivers, streams, brooks and creeks
Yes, those are mine.
Then you may ask why?
I swear you to give an answer,
'because of the fading humanity
I am crying, nobody hear
an inner cry.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Union
An union has appeared before my eyes,
Sight yells hard health, due to heavenly hearing.
My amalgamated spirits are due to the words forming,
Collapsing and disintegrating like paper burning
The words spread into animals of heaven.
The books of knowledge gain proud residence
In the height of warmth, due to old age.
A connection is in order, a fuel for the brain
To contain a good thought that presides
Like the objects ornamenting the palatial doors.
A good thought is a good gate to the other side,
With springs and fountains, rivers of honey
And the seas of milk, the healthy wedding of the soul.
An union has been achieved with health as
One wonder too beautiful to the eyes of the One Above.
poem by Naveed Akram
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A book.
Shelves of books with variant topics:
Medicine, Engineering and comics,
Languages, Management and Marketing,
Tourism, Text books and Computing,
House hold, Carpentry and plumbing,
Trucks, Driving and operating.
Must choose one to taste,
Read regularly to last,
A full term of life and love,
Nourish it with the dose of care,
Can buy it from the stores,
That sells New, second hand and old,
When the new book is bought,
The smell itself fresh and great,
To remember for the life throughout,
Keep it as a Holy book and enjoy,
When the used books are purchased,
Rarely used books, never opened,
A few half read and half left,
A few stained and battered,
A few has the quotations underlined,
When the old books are bought,
The papers are oxidized and yellow,
Touch it, fragile, handle with care,
Though the contents may be good,
Prints are washed out and hard to see,
Heavily tainted of weather.
Whether you buy the new or the used book,
Make sure that you choose the right book,
Then read chapter by chapter leaving no nook,
Sometimes it thrills and shrills,
It is hilarious and comical,
If it is full of mysteries,
Try to solve it with your knowledge,
Don't slam and tear it,
Not touch it with your drug fingers,
Not read it with your spirited mind,
You will misunderstand the contents,
Promise yourself you will not make,
Your book an used and neglected book again.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Second Hand Books
Books! Books! Books! There are so many different designs.
There are some which, by the author, are personally signed.
Some books have pages with gilt edges, which look all posh.
Some have nice pictures on their covers, which are embossed.
Some books have hard covers, while some have soft.
Some are all dusty, where they’ve been kept in the loft.
Some books have fancy covers; some just have plain.
Some have suffered mishaps, and are now all stained.
Some books are all dog-eared at the corners of their pages.
Some have gone yellow, where they’ve been around ages.
Inside some books, there can be seen a pencilled name;
Someone, who once, on this particular book, had a claim.
Some are obviously well read; their spines are all creased.
From out of a book, amazing adventures can be unleashed.
Some books have pages which are spoiled or a bit torn.
Some have covers which are grubby and look well worn.
Some just have text, while others also include illustrations.
Some are former prize winners; once the toast of the nation.
There are books by famous authors, as well as the lesser known.
Some are former library books which, to the public, were loaned.
There are romances, poetry, classics, sci-fi, humour, and histories;
Gardening, cookery, travel, thrillers, manga, and murder mysteries.
In wooden bookcases, the books are categorised, and are neatly lined.
In a second hand bookshop, you just never know what you may find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Winter Comes A'Calling
Oh, Winter comes a'calling
To dampen life's warming days
Spreading across the meadow
Where the last leaf of autumn lays
How sadly does the dying leaf
Flutter ~ to the frosty ground
Its glow a fading ember
Falling softly ~ without a sound
No more to see the sunrise
Above the forest ~ deeply green
Nor to treasure the glowing twilight
As it passes now ~ unseen
Oh, yes ~ Old Winter's a'calling
Where the barren trees now stand
Spreading ~ a darkened silence
With the touch of its chilly hand
The Winter brings the ending
Of our summer and autumn days
Their warm memories ~ are now buried
Where the last leaf of autumn lays......
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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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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Of all the ways of acquiring books, writing them oneself is regarded as the most praiseworthy method. Writers are really people who write books not because they are poor, but because they are dissatisfied with the books which they could buy but do not like.
quote by Walter Benjamin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Have Seen Autumn
I have never felt the chill of winter
Nor the birth of spring
Only the two faces of Nature
The golden sun shining
Or the heavens openly weeping.
But I have seen autumn
As I looked at her
No cold winter in her smile
A promise of summer in her eyes
Her hair of autumn leaves.
I have never felt autumn
But I have seen it
It’s the canvass of Rembrandt
Dark, red, crimson, gold
But I have never felt it.
Is the autumn breeze damp and soft like her lips?
Is the autumn sky naked and warm like her skin?
But I have never kissed her lips nor touched her skin
I have only seen autumn
But I have never felt it.
poem by Shogunoka Ledesma III
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The top of the hill and the bottom of the ocean
The top of the hill in our heart
The bottom of the ocean in our mind
Refuses to give in to the acceptance of
Self immolation and give up emulation.
It is for this we get the responsibility
To spread the books of morality of the supreme
Through out the world among the whole communities
While others expressed their handicapped inability
Including the sun, the moon and the expanding stars
It is the top of the hill and the bottom of the ocean
Makes and creates chasm which is one another's problem
Some times even creates a block to accept the supreme
It is the round off the things, the top negates the hill
And the bottom refuges to carry the ocean.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Books Are Burning
Books are burning
In the main square, and I saw there
The first eating the text
Books are burning
In the still air
And you know where they burn books
People are next
I believe the printed word should be forgiven
Doesnt matter what it said
Wisdom hotline from the dead back to the living
Key to the larder for your heart and head
Books are burning
In our own town, watch us turn round
And cast our glances elsewhere
Books are burning
In the playground
Smell of burnt book is not unlike human hair
I believe the printed word is more than sacred
Beyond the gauge of good or bad
The human right to let your soul fly free and naked
Above the violence of the fearful and sad
The church of matches
Anoints in ignorance with gasoline
The church of matches
Grows fat by breathing in the smoke of dreams
Its quite obscene
Books are burning
More each day now, and I pray now
You boys will tire of these games
Books are burning
I hope somehow, this will allow
A phoenix up from the flames
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live ha haaa...
Books making
Some time
Boor of life...
Life is not a book...
Some books
Helps life...
Some books
Boored life...
Life is boor...?
Relax too read
Joke books...
live ha ah ahhhaaa....
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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I still love books. Nothing a computer can do can compare to a book. You can't really put a book on the Internet. Three companies have offered to put books by me on the Net, and I said, 'If you can make something that has a nice jacket, nice paper with that nice smell, then we'll talk.' All the computer can give you is a manuscript. People don't want to read manuscripts. They want to read books. Books smell good. They look good. You can press them to your bosom. You can carry them in your pocket.
quote by Ray Bradbury
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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If the book we are reading does not wake us, as with a fist hammering on our skulls, then why do we read it Good God, we also would be happy if we had no books and such books that make us happy we could, if need be, write ourselves. What we must have are those books that come on us like ill fortune, like the death of one we love better than ourselves, like suicide. A book must be an ice axe to break the sea frozen inside us.
quote by Franz Kafka
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Repartee of a Renegade?
Skinny Mom walked towards the gravel road
Where the Pawnshop stands,
Pawned the talisman and her few 22 carat gold jewelry!
She bought for me the valuable second hand books
from the senile professor's house.
Chemistry, Biology, Physics and Trigonometry.
Zoology, Psychology but not Sexology?
O my poor Mom gone with the wind?
The oil lamp's short wick half asleep
Not enough paraffin it seemed?
Moonless nights in the rainy days
Lightening helped me to read well the old books.
But my sad letters soaked with tears for the test papers
Heartless Examiner purposely rejected and I was failed.
Studies were stopped in the drought!
But still I learn in the life-school
The circles, triangles, full stops, commas
Semicolons, question marks & proper nouns.
How beautiful if the World's a Square[In geometry, a square is a regular quadrilateral. This means that it has four equal sides and four equal angles (90-degree angles, or right angles) .]
Then I could have hide in a dark corner and cry!
But it's global & rotates with educated politicians
Throws me here & there like in a Gymnasium?
[My dear poor Mom! ,
I requested from a Medical faculty in a University here that we're (beloved & myself) voluntarily willing to give our useless bodies one day when the breathing stopped that would give much benefits for others when they do a research of our mysterious souls! Not yet responded from that end?
Mom! Casket is very beautiful but expensive than the life here?
Everybody comes to the parlor and give their respects at last, that's all! ]
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Super-Moon
The astronomers, common people, kids are gazing
At the Super-moon that has appeared in the sky.
The super-moon is so big, so bright, so charming
That the bystanders cannot even blink their eye.
Next day, the burning furnace of the Sun will burn
The shimmering of Super-moon with its warmth.
What will change tomorrow? Will the waves turn?
Will fate of the poor change? Can death be birth?
The poor who sleep at rough footpaths of the city
Were sleeping starved in the chilly moonlit night.
They had nothing to do with the moon's luminosity,
If the moon were bread they could eat it with delight.
poem by Osman Gani
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