Who I Am
This is me
This is who I am
Look at me what do you see
Open this book
And read my pages
Can you see me?
Can you see all the changes?
I'm am a word
Not just any
I'm the light
At the end of your road
Who I am
I am not dangerous
I am not sweet
I'm not the girl
Living don't the street
This is who I am
I'm me
So who are you?
poem by Raesheka Antwine
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Related quotes
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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So, You Think You've Found Me
I am not here
Not in these words
not on these pages.
I know..
You think if you read
Enough
Of what I write
You'll know me inside and out..
One small problem though
(I say this as I smile)
I am no longer
Who I use to be
When I use to be
The 'She' who wrote this..
I don't publish until I've grown
From the poem I use to be
If I was her at all...
Sometimes the 'She' you read
She isn't me at all
But a friend,
Or a story I read in the paper
Or a conversation I overheard..
The she you're looking for
You'd have to confront
Ask her all the tough questions yourself.
I'm not there..
In the tattered old pages
Of the poetry book you love so much..
If you read enough
Maybe you'll get a glimpse of the girl
The fragile creature I use to be..
That innocent thing who believed
In magical things so easily..
She does make an appearance from time to time..
She was very sweet..
The me you seek, you may not find..
I hide even from myself from time to time..
I grow from day to day
Oops! You missed it,
I've already changed.
Now some things, those are constant..
But, they aren't found here
Where you look for me.
poem by Rabia Minhas
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I read a book
I read a book
Not to enhance my looks
I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook
I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook
I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light
I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook
I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took
I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook
I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Open Book's Monologue Part 3: My Lie
Maybe a lie was told
Believed by all of you now old
If you read the open book
You'd see
The words 'I care nothing about how someone might look'
When searching for love for that girl that I want with me
Remember that and pay attention when the open book says looks are not
An issue
But realizing the lie, this book will need a strong tissue
For, the book will cry
And need support, no spine
Because if I care nothing about looks
Why do I want (maybe crave) to hold her or share a kiss?
How can this
Be true? Why does that matter? It should not!
I should be content with talking....feelings....not if she is hot
I tell myself if she is hot, such things matter to me not
But if that's true why do I want to hug or touch?
Why do I want the physical contact and such
How can I reconcile my claim, when once before
I loved a girl only for how she looked and that made her perfect
Without defect
How can I trust myself after that am I not something to abhor?
What can you do when a book you read does lie
That is the case with this open book, crafty and sly
I can't trust myself, but who else knows how I feel, who knows
Where my heart goes
And to where does it belong?
O how I long for the completion of love and affection
But how can I have that, when I can't handle it, I'm not mature
Plagued by imperfection
The flaw of my nature
What do I love? And what do I love about you?
But also if what I say even to myself can be a lie then just who
Just..... just who am I? ! ? ! ? ! ? ! ?
poem by David Knox
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Words of an open book
Its been long enough
over the years my spine has grown tough
pages fading wishing they would go away
wishing i would be closed for just a day
i am tired of being so open with my feelings for all
anyone able to read me...or cause me to fall
its ridiculous can't you see?
being this open is killing me
i no longer want to be seen by every passer-by
i don't want everyone to read my
life after just one glance
can I read nothing more?
why am i so open?
but now everyone knows
everyone should not know everything about me i protest!
but its no use
there is no trick, nothing no abuse
that can take this way no way to close myself
I remain open to the world
as they tear out my pages and break all i have left
...my spine
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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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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A Little Bit
And it will take a little bit of extra time
To make it shine, to make it shine
And it will take a little bit of extra care
To bring it where you think it's there
And there's no one else around
This is what I've found Anyone you see
Anyone you meet
Some one at your feet
Anyone could be that one
Anyone you know
Anywhere you go
Some one in a show
Could be that one
And it will take a little bit of all you've got
To get a shot, get a shot
And it will take a little bit of extra care
To bring it where you think it's there
And there's nowhere else to go
This is what I know
Anyone you see
Anyone you meet
Maybe down the street
Anyone could be that one
Everywhere you look
Pages of a book
All the years it took
Everything got you down
And it will take a little while to get back home
The road is long, the road is long
And it will take a little work to get it back
To mend the cracks, to bridge the gaps
Anyone you see
Could be the one
Anyone you meet
Could be that one
Some one at your feet
Could feel the same
Maybe you'd complete
Could share your name
Anywhere you look
Pages of a book
Everything she took
Never let it keep you down
Holding out for used
Broken up and bruised
Losable to lose
Anywhere you go
Anyone you know
Think it doesn't show
Everybody knows
Anyone you meet
Maybe down the street
(And it will take a little time to get back home)
Some one at you feet
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Cover My Eyes
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
Cover my eyes
The light falls on her face
Dangerous lines
Dangerous colours & shapes
Ferocious designs
Connected and ready to play
Buttoned up tight
Crimson and halloween white
She's like the girl in the movie when the spitfire falls
Like the girl in the picture that he couldn't afford
She's like the girl with the smile in the hospital ward
Like the girl in the novel in the wind on the moors
Pain and heaven
Pain and heaven
The meaning of life
A hair falls out of place
Cover my eyes
Dangerous colours and shapes
And when she moves
Cover my eyes
She's like the girl on the t.v. with the red guitar
Like the girl with the dealer at the end of the bar
She's like the girl with the smile in the dream in the dark
Like the girl overtaking in the open car
Pain and heaven
Pain and heaven
Pain and heaven
Pain and heaven
Cover my eyes
The light falls on her face
Dangerous lines
Dangerous colours & shapes
Ferocious designs
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rat Reading
Rat's are
My home
Reading for book's
At night time...!
Each book's
On the book stand
Rat reading
Not very well....! ?
Rat simply
Read some of
Pages only;
Book's are broken
Rat read mean's
Rat bite's
Book's are crying
I am also...
Rat reading
O...sorry
Rat bite's...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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LIFE… An Epic.
Life is a book of epic!
Where are the pages to write the accounts?
Who gave this precious book,
And kept it open in front of the humans?
And kindled a lamp called life
For him to read at his will,
And forget himself, and live?
Enjoy each sentence in this epic.
It is embedded with exultation
And delight; vibrant with passion.
And love and lust, ravished by charms.
The lamp may extinguish to day or
Tomorrow, then there will be utter darkness,
The book will be illegible and fade away.
Idiots try to write accounts in its pages.
They add and subtract continuously.
But finally, all additions and subtractions
Turns to be erroneous, and faulty….
poem by Kunjubi Varghese
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Our Ever Thirsting Ignorance....
one does not go out into the open fields
to carry a book
read and pour upon all interests
in a picture
of birds and trees and
lakes,
one goes out into the open to watch a flock of birds,
homing
to a tall leafy tree
and hearing them all chirp
or sing
one goes into the sea to sail a boat
fish,
or swim and see the colors of the corals
or feel a school of
rainbow fishes
one finally leaves the book to its place
between the shelves
out there into the open fields
lies the unending pages of days, the lessons that no word
or groups of words
can ever trap,
for real knowledge like fish in the ocean
like whales
so huge, and slimy
always escape from our grasp leaving us the sound
that till today
shall mesmerize us
in the continual mysteries of
our thirsting
ignorance
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Book Of My Life
Let me watch by the fire and remember my days
And it may be a trick of the firelight
But the flickering pages that trouble my sight
Is a book I'm afraid to write
It's the book of my days, it's the book of my life
And it's cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife
And it's all there to see as the section reveals
There's some sorrow in every life
If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze
Then I won't understand 'til the end of my days
I'm still forced to remember,
Remember the words of my life
There are promises broken and promises kept
Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept
There's a chapter of secrets, and words to confess
If I lose everything that I possess
There's a chapter on loss and a ghost who won't die
There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry
There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies.
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
There's a chapter on fathers a chapter on sons
There are pages of conflicts that nobody won
And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat,
There's a page where we fail to meet
There are tales of good fortune that couldn't be planned
There's a chapter on god that I don't understand
There's a promise of Heaven and Hell but I'm damned if I see
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
Now the daylight's returning
And if one sentence is true
All these pages are burning
And all that's left is you
Though the pages are number
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Inspiration Poem) A Book Never Read
Living by the fire
Living to admire
Living down to the wire
Still the wheels don't turn
I think it is because I want it
Urn for it
The beautiful almighty
I will not pray
Not as long as I live day by day
How much does my soul really weigh?
How many sins can be forgiven?
The fog will eventually choke you out
Whine and pout all you want
It won't make a dent in my steel cage
Because it was built from pure rage
If Its not a stage
What am I going through?
Its just another page of my book never read
Words as stale as the food I was fed
Maybe it was how many times I have been dropped on my head
I plead guilty to an unwritten destiny
I lied to myself in a mirror straight to my very own face
Memories erased
It's just another page of my book never read
I can't be lead astray
Especially if I'm willing
It's not much different then stealing
A moral yeng then yang
A oh so perfect harmony
Keeping things on a even keel
Always questioning what is real
It's just another page of my book never read
I hold on so tight to my comfy bed
Such a beautiful night
The stars are glistening oh so bright
I turn off the lights
Sleep for the dreams of a tomorrow
We are all living on borrowed time
So I ask again where's mine?
A question that continues to go unanswered
Draw your own conclusion
It's another one of the deep dark mysterious illusions
It's just another page of my book never read
It's as if every word has never been said
It's just another page of my tattered and torn book that will be never read
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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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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I'd like to read a book sometime. I've never read a book before. That'd be an adventure. I understand they have pages and everything. Yeah, I've got to do that sometime.
A book read
At home...
Cheldren
Read book
Waching T.v.
Some of cartoon
Running on t.v
Father was
Sleeping
On bed...
Mother was
Washing clouths...
Children read
The book...
With waching t.v
Book pages was
Fly with
Air...
Read the book
Very fast at fan...
Children watch
T.v. feel free...
Father and mother
Not Free...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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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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