Victims Of The Search For Excellence..
the eyes are always
the innocent victims of
this search....
the minds are tunnels
searching for more light...
the hands are the miners
digging for nuggets
the fingers are the slave
drivers....
the quest is always an
anonymous mistress...
the finding is not a thing
it is a manual for another journey...
the diary at the end is a blank page
there is no word which says...END.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Nobodys Diary
If I wait for just a second more,
I know Ill forget what I came here for,
My head was so full of things to say,
But as I open my lips all my words slip away
And anyway,
I cant believe you want to turn the page,
And move your life onto another stage,
You can change the chapter you can change the book,
But the story remains the same if youd take a look.
(chorus)
For the times weve had I dont want to be - a page in your diary babe,
For the good, the bad I dont want to see - a page in your diary babe,
For the happy, the sad - I dont want to be another page in your diary.
Perhaps if I held you I could win again,
I could take your hands wed talk and maybe then -
That look in your eyes I always recognise,
Would tell me everything is gonna be fine,
Youre gonna be mine
For a long time...
(repeat above chorus)
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Nobodys Diary
If I wait for just a second more,
I know Ill forget what I came here for,
My head was so full of things to say,
But as I open my lips all my words slip away
And anyway,
I cant believe you want to turn the page,
And move your life onto another stage,
You can change the chapter you can change the book,
But the story remains the same if youd take a look.
(chorus)
For the times weve had I dont want to be - a page in your diary babe,
For the good, the bad I dont want to see - a page in your diary babe,
For the happy, the sad - I dont want to be another page in your diary.
Perhaps if I held you I could win again,
I could take your hands wed talk and maybe then -
That look in your eyes I always recognise,
Would tell me everything is gonna be fine,
Youre gonna be mine
For a long time...
(repeat above chorus)
song performed by by Yaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Redefine
Killing for the sacred one
Find the words and go beyond
Search for the word to find
Just follow me and redefine
Redefine
This will be the constant fear
That goes beyond the life-dead trail
Falls into the searching light
Falls to the bottom of this blind
Kill for the sacred one
Find the words and go beyond
Seach for the word to find
Just follow me and redefine
Redefine
This will be the constant fear
That goes beyond the life-dead trail
Falls into the searching light
Falls to the bottom of this blind
Finding the word
Please be the word
???
Wretched torture death dismay
Feed off the ones that go unto you
Finding the ones are sacred to you
Killing the souls and fighting the dead
We are the ones the coming of dread
The coming of dread
???
The temple which will do no good
The beast before will show you should
Search for the word to find
That penetrates the re-align
Redefine
This will be the constant fear
That goes beyond the life-dead trail
Falls into the searching light
Falls to the bottom of this blind
Search for the word to find
Just follow Me and redefine
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Each new day is a blank page in the diary of your life. The secret of success is in turning that diary into the best story you possibly can.
Douglas Pagels in A Wonderful Resolution For The New Year!
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Blank Space Inside Us
there are blank pages
some say that it is a must that something must be drawn
words to be written
thoughts to stifle, capture,
stuffed,
there is a day that you prefer
to keep a blank sky
a dark sky without stars
no light
when you close your eyes
you are at home with this blank page
words become
invincible
but they are all there
perfectly correct
well viewed by the eyes of your heart
somehow you go beyond
your every
day fences
move away, jump and run towards
an island of light
a patch of green grass
still no stars
pure blank
it is when you do not believe in the power of thoughts
when what preoccupies you
is nothing when you are finally one with all
space
it is too peaceful to even dropp a word
like a pin on
a shiny floor of tiles....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jeannies Diary
How does our world spin
Without me and her nest
Could there really be
Such happiness
Oh, shes got a dark side too
Even murderous
But I love that
Just like here
I dont have a change at writing the book
I just wanna be a page
In jeannies diary
One single page
In jeannies diary
Yes I am intense
Maybe quite obsessed
Everything she does is curious
Oh, shes going to let me in
I just know its so
Then again, who do I kid
I dont have a prayer at writing the book
I just wanna be a page
In jeannies diary
One single page
In jeannies diary
She could have anything she wants
So why not me
She could have anything she dreams
Oh, to be one single page
One single page
One single page in jeannies dairy
song performed by by Eels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
There would be a paragraph about some veteran digging tunnels for the Germans in a slave labor camp, or something like that. Finally I decided to look it up and go further into it.
quote by Charles Guggenheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Quest
What am I looking for?
What am I searching for?
What quest is this, I know not?
Where does this path lead to?
Where is my destination?
What quest is this, I know not?
Is my quest worth it?
Or is it just a pursuit for
some goal or purpose?
Or is it an exploration of
the journey called life?
Or is it a crusade for
meeting with the Lord?
What quest is this, I know not?
Copyright©2011Rizvana Parveen
poem by Rizvana Parveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Your Attention....
have a little time
to this page
it used to be a blank page
an emptiness, a void, a stare
it is calling for attention
its silence like roots call for more depths
it is not the normal page
that you open and leave
with your wet fingers
and dry tongue
listen with your eyes
let your ears see
this is this poem that perhaps
may not make you sleep....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Diary Of Me
Umm pum-pum-pum
Pum-pum, pum-pum, pum-pum
Look behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be some things I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct all the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be some things I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
'Cause
Where I'm from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (a child was born) (ooh)
And raised without a man (without my... father, and wonder why he's in these streets) (ooh)
My mother's gone (mothers gone, yet still... found the strength to pray for me) (ooh)
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book (na-na-na-na-na-na)
Turn the pages of my life (na-na-na)
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from (ahh...)
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery (ahh...)
Look in my eyes (ahh...)
You'll see the diary of me (pum-pum-pum-pum-pum)
Where I'm from (where I'm from, who could believe) (ahh...)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see) (ahh...)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) my diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes (ahh...)
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) (ahh...)
(And you will see) yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...) (ahh...)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Diary Of Me
Ummm pum pum pum pum pum
Looked behind myself
As I reflect on all the memories
The times they come and go
Lost everything from
Friends to Family
If I could turn back the hands
There would be
Somethings I'd change about me
I know that my past is not what my future holds
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain and misery
Look in my eyes and you'll see
The diary of me
Rewind my life
Just go back and correct
All the wrong
And ask God to direct my path
So that I can make it home
And if I could turn back the hands of time
There would be somethings I would change about me
But I know that my past is not what my future holds
Cause
Where I come from
Who could believe
All the pain, misery
Look in my eyes and you will see
The diary of me
Years ago a child was born (A child was born)
And raised without a man (without a man, raised in the streets)
My mother's gone
But still reached out her hand
Just open the book
Turn the pages of my life
And you will read
A true story about one man's journey
Where I'm from
Who would believe, yeah
That all the hurt and pain and misery
Look in my eyes
You'll see the diary of me
Where I'm from (where I'm from who could believe)
Who could believe (the hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes) in my eyes (and you will see)
(The makings of) the makings of
(My diary) My diary
(Where I'm from) look in my eyes
(Who could believe) you'll see
(The hurt and pain and misery)
(Look in my eyes)
(And you will see) yeah yeah yeah yeah
(The makings of my diary)
(Where I'm from...)
song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Dreamed.... (Hands)
i dreamed last night...
and all i could see were hands.
sometimes hard and calloused,
sometimes soft and feminine.
skilled hands, laborer's hands,
loving hands, nurturing hands....
fingers digging in the dirt,
fingers holding a pen.
fingers playing a piano,
fingers unbuttoning blouses.
hands extended, hands gripping the rope,
hands holding the shovel,
hands covered with resin.
hands folded in prayer,
hands balled into fists.
hands stuffed in empty pockets.
hands that define both history,
and destiny!
hands scarred and bruised,
hands covered with age spots.
hands that speak many languages.
hands that know mistakes, and failures.
hands that built fires,
hands that put fires out!
hands that wiped away tears,
that picked up trash,
and revealed souls....
whose hands?
my hands, your hands?
god's hands?
does it really matter?
hands engaged and involved,
in the very act of living!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Frantic Search
The Eternal Search
The Search Is On! The Search Is On!
Searching For The World Free From Fear
Searching For People Free From Greed
Searching For The God Who Went Missing
World Looks Small So Are The Minds
Person To Person No Rapport Exists
Suspecting Each Other Even In Sleep
Caring For Others No More A Desire
Craving For Comforts Order Of The Day
Ruthless Shortcuts In Clearing The way
Money And Status Passion For The Masses
Posh And Prestige Symbol For Power
Goons Are The Rulers! Gone Are The Morals
Twisting The Laws To Fill Their Coffers
Suppressing Voice Of Those Remain Sincere
Poisoning The Minds By Fuelling Hatred
Nature Losing Tranquility Causing Season's Hostility
Global Warming On The Rise Sounding Death Bells Causing Fear
Human Dwellings Spreading Fast By Felling Forests With No Foresight
Water Sources Drying Fast As Lakes And Rivers Remain Things Of Past
Warning Bells Are Unheeded Despite Impacts Highlighted
Damage Controls Not In Sight As Vested People Seal Them Tight
Paper Tigers On The Prowl But Actions Remain Always Nil
In Quest Of Ruling One Another Plans Are Drawn For Hell Together
The Search Is On! The Search Is On!
Searching For The World With Protected Nature
Searching For The World Without Race For Arms
Searching For The World Where Each one Gets Alms
Searching For The World Where Barriers Are Surpassed
Searching For The World Where Boundaries Are Withdrawn
Searching For The World Where People Are Free From Lust & Greed
Searching For The World Where God Is Seen In Every Human
poem by Somanathan Iyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blank Page
Blank page leave me be!
Blank page please stop taunting me,
reminding me of what I have failed to do.
Oh how I long to fill you,
to take up your very last line
with creative, riveting lyrics of mine.
Blank page stop harassing me!
I wish to show you my thoughts,
desires, emotions and all.
How difficult it is to answer your call.
Blank page how sweetly you whisper
tempting my pen to caress your paper.
I immaturely expect the verses to flow
then I realize that my thoughts are much too slow.
Blank page so often you defeat me
teasing and challenging until hours later
all that is left is the tiny dot
where my pen merely touched your paper.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Of A Miners Child
She is my flower
And she blooms for the one who loves her best
The miners stop to watch as she walks
They know her love is not for sale
She will never fail me cause I know
I watch her grow
And the mother of a miners child
Waits for me beside the kitchen door
She is my light
In this place where the darkness never ends
Shell guide me where the tunnels twist and bend
Shes the only one who listens when I tell her
I got less than I can spend
She knows the pace
Oh mother of a miners child
Was away the coal dust from my face
When the night shifts done
Shell be waiting by the table when I come
Searchin for another dream to chase
Oh mother of a miners child
I know that you still think about the day
When well be movin on
Remember dear old daddy and
The promise that I made to carry on
Sometimes I smile
In the cage where the cables softly hum
Id curse that old straw boss to the bone
But the mother of a miners child
Is waiting for her paycheck to come home
Come saturday
And he is just a miners boy
I hope that he will find a better way
She is my flower
And she blooms for the one who loves her best
The miners stop to watch as she walks
They know her love is not for sale
She will never fail me cause I know
I watch her grow
And the mother of a miners child
Waits for me beside the kitchen door
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ode to a Blank Page
Ode to a blank page
It’s blue seemingly thin lines flying across the page
Each producing a small space to place your thoughts on
Next lies the taunting red margin
Baring how sparsely you’ve done
You can strike the page with a single blow
Leaving a mark that did no good
Ode to a blank page
Why do you stare?
Taunting and shrieking in my ear
Emptiness fills the page
The blanks intimidate even the strong
How strong it is
To give a cut even to the toughest skin
Ode to a blank page
You know I’m jealous
How I despise all your characteristics
poem by Rachele ...duhh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Blank Page Blues
I know we have all done it,
sat in front of a pristine white sheet of paper
and got ready to write something down,
and then we are confronted
with the blank page blues.
The words of inspiration
then scurry and hide away.
You are left with pen in hand,
scratching your head
wondering what to say.
There is no cure for this syndrome;
writers get it all the time.
Some call it a writer’s block,
when nothing comes into your head.
You sit in front of a blank page.
You know what you want to write,
then someone disturbs you
and the words disappear out of sight.
How many times have we had that?
We sit down to write our masterpiece
and the telephone rings,
or someone shouts your dinner is getting cold.
You feel like screaming,
but you take it on the chin.
You lay down your pen,
answer the phone or have your dinner,
and when you come back,
the blank page confronts you.
Still you cannot write anything on it.
You stare at it for hours,
until finally you get tired
and journey off to bed.
Hoping and hoping tomorrow
a little peace, it will bring
and your words on that blank page
will really begin to sing.
10 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God
Multiple magic, myriad isms, sundry deities
Complexity, perplexity
Sobriety, pity, piety
Unmet entreaty, relentless activity
Quest, search, quest, search
The Abstract abstruse..
Peremptorily'O'God'
She, He, It
Name this and that
As you like
Believe mystical or rational
Believe not-be it your personal
Simply the abstract Absolute
Generates, operates, destroys
Quest, search, quest, search
The Abstract abstruse..
Peremptorily'O'God'
poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tabula Rasa
this is a blank wall
or as you wish it, this could be a blank page,
or you may consider this
a blank mind of a child and
you will be teaching him
some things for the first time,
go, scroll, and find something,
do you remember now, why the child is still in pain?
why the walls are stronger? why the blank page still have stains
of blood in there?
some sad memories that refuse to leave?
don't lose hope, there are still more blank spaces of the mind
imagine it to be some kind of a sky
now, put the stars and the moon, and try wishing
someth ing nice and beautiful
like a boat filled with flowers and some light and then silently it sails
on a very peaceful sea like a fine silky cloth covering the dining table
to the place that you always dream to live
forever.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blank Page
Blank Page
This new blank page, a word processor page, I cannot touch. I ought to leave it this
way, just look at it and dream of what I could have written on it. If I delet the words
I have written now, it will be blank again, no history, no crumbled up sheet of paper
in the wastebasket. For now it is too late but I might erase it when I come to an end.
My wife was in Johannesburg once for surgery, being born in Congo but light skinned
and travelling on a Portuguese passport, she boarded a bus for the blacks.
Great consternation, she was told by police to go on the white only bus since she
was Portuguese. Racism and anti Semitism are so stupid, it makes no sense, one race
thinks it is superior to others. Now it is the Moslems who are feeling the surge
of ignorance. We want them to be more like us and not Insist of doing their own things.
In Israel, for instance the European Jews feel vastly superior to Arab Jews, This in a state
that is an artificial construct. The culture of Europe in the Middle East. We know Israel,
as it exist today must come to an end. So there I said it, this white virtual sheet has been
befouled by an opinion no one wants to know about. So what do I do know? Erase this
page so it is blank again and I can write about the moon?
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!