An Orator’s Complaint
How many the troubles that wait
On mortals!—especially those
Who endeavour in eloquent prose
To expound their views, and orate.
Did you ever attempt to speak
When you hadn't a word to say?
Did you find that it wouldn't pay,
And subside, feeling dreadfully weak?
Did you ever, when going ahead
In a fervid defence of the Stage,
Get checked in your noble rage
By somehow losing your thread?
Did you ever rise to reply
To a toast (say 'The Volunteers'),
And evoke loud laughter and cheers,
When you didn't exactly know why?
Did you ever wax witty, and when
You had smashed an opponent quite small,
Did he seem not to mind it at all,
But get up and smash you again?
If any or all of these things
Have happened to you (as to me),
I think you'll be found to agree
With yours truly, when sadly he sings:
'How many the troubles that wait
On mortals!—especially those
Who endeavour in eloquent prose
To expound their views, and orate.'
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Related quotes
The Wait
(originally recorded by killing joke)
[one, two, three, four]
Motives changing, day to day
The fire increases, masks decay
I look at the river, white foam floats down
The bodys poisoned, gotta sit tight
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
After wakening, silence grows
The screams subside, distortion shows
Mutant thoughts, of bad mouthed news
Its just another birth, of distorted views
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
The wait
song performed by by Metallica
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not impossible to think that the minds of philosophers sometimes act like those of other mortals, and that, having once been determined by diverse circumstances to adopt certain views, they then look for and naturally find reasons to justify these views.
quote by Morris Raphael Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disagreement
With you, I do not always agree
Because I am not your ‘mini-me.'
Over the years, I have grown
And now have opinions of my own.
It must be a big shock when you find
I'm capable of making up my own mind.
From the things you say, I can tell,
That you think you know me very well.
You often say ‘I think this, don't you? '
But often I hold a very different view;
I do not mean to disagree,
But I am not you: I am me.
I do not mean to be a right pain,
But you and I are not the same.
It is all very well keeping the peace,
But, my own views, I like to release.
Sometimes I agree for a quiet life:
Not wanting to cause trouble or strife;
But it is hard to agree all of the time
When the views you hold are not mine.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Cant Wait
Rush/linde
Cant wait till we get back together
Cant wait, the sooner the better
Its late, I should have told you long ago
I hope that we can set things straight
What Ive got in my heart wont wait
Tomorrow may be too late to apologise to you
Ooh I wish that it was tonight
With our troubles behind us, tonight
Go where no one can find us tonight
With no city to blind us tonight
As I sit here and say oh gee
As the feeling just sweeps over me
Takes me into the night floating free
In a skyward direction
My soul has been freed by your love and affection
Cant wait till we get back together
Cant wait, the sooner the better
Its late, and I still cant taste your kiss
And you know that a love like this
It just cant wait
It cant wait, no no no
It cant wait, no no no
It cant wait, no no no
It cant wait, no no no....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem Versus Prose
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Enough with your predicates
And your subjects
In this poem you will find
No commas and semicolons
This poem
Is armed with rhythms
Stanzas and shifts
This poem has no end
There are no colons
In this poem
Your prose is replete with nuances
This poem echoes
The plight of the oppressed
And dispossessed
In your prose I find parentheses
This poem speaks of life
Your prose can be edited
Cut this poem and it bleeds
You do not like this poem
And I do not like your prose
Prose has pauses and hyphens
Prose comes to a stop
This poem plugs images
Even in your head
Prose deals with fiction
And nonfiction
This poem can be heard
It can be felt
It speaks of hunger
Of hopelessness
Homelessness
It speaks of a bitter reality
You do not like this poem
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Two schools of thought.
.
The lady chose to take offence
Although I said she wrote fine prose
She may not know the difference
between poetry and prose
She thought that she wrote poetry
But what she wrote was free form prose.
I offered no apology
It was not my fault that she chose.
Not to learn the basic rules
defining prose and poetry
Two very different writing schools
in which to show your artistry.
The so called experts can’t agree
and coined the term poetic prose.
Though writing cannot possible
be classed as poetry and prose.
If it’s not metered it is prose
no matter how poetical.
But you’re entitled to compose.
Fine prose and call it poetry.
Though I suggest respectfully
you should be proud of writing prose.
As some do most successfully.
But it was poetry I chose
Thursday,11 March 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When It Rains, It Really Pours
(words & music by w. emmerson)
You know what it takes,
Youve got it, baby.
You are the only one I chose.
Dont leave me here with all these heartaches,
Only you and heaven knows
About my troubles troubles troubles.
When it rains, it really pours...
You shouldnt have took away my loving
You know you thrill me from head to toe.
I got a feeling for you baby
And youre the only one who knows
About my troubles, troubles, troubles.
When it rains, it really pours...
You know what you did to make me love you
You really opened up my nose.
You got what you wanted, now you left me.
Thats the way the story goes.
Well, I got troubles, troubles, troubles.
When it rains, it really pours.
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never Knowing
Everyday we meet strangers
all the time never knowing
if one of them
will one day no longer be a stranger,
but become a new friend.
Someone who will stand beside us
when troubles rise
and who will walk with us
until our troubles subside.
3 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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My Poetry Has Become Prose
MY POETRY HAS BECOME PROSE
My Poetry has become Prose
I have lost my music
Nothing sings in me;
I have lost my richness of meaning
Nothing in me is not linear, flat and clear.
I have lost my poetry
And have become a writer of Prose
In pseudo Poetic Form-
There is in me no Line
That says more than itself-
I am Prose now not Poetry
And yet still secretly hoping
My inner irony will
In contradicting me
Save me.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dead To My Poem
DEAD TO MY POEM
Dead to my poem-
Dead to the poems of others-
Dead to poetry
In any way at all-
Into another way of feeling:
Dry- nervous- anxious- fearful.
Prose is my soul
Empty small literal flat prose.
Flat prose
Lines too flat to even need paraphrase
No poem no poetry
Prose.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Blow Away
May your troubles blow away,
so far away, with the whistling wind,
never to pass this way, ever again;
your feet on your own path
follow it faithfully, don't ever look back.
May your troubles blow away.
a smile on your face
knowing you go at your own pace.
May your troubles blow away.
even if friends who care are very few
you do what you've got to do.
May your troubles blow away.
stay forever true
to what it is your heart says to you.
May your troubles blow away.
don't lose hope
just keep going, and cut the binding ropes.
May your troubles blow away.
when everyone says you're different, and should change
you remember, you've got your own soul, your own name.
May your troubles blow away.
if you ever feel all alone
look way ahead, in the dark see there, the glowing lights of home.
May your troubles blow away.
keep singing the song God gave your soul
you know, somehow, you'll get where it is you've got to go.
May your troubles blow away,
so far away, with the whistling wind,
never to pass this way, ever again.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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You've Got Your Troubles
you've got your troubles
Fortunes
I see that worried look upon your face,
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
She's found somebody else to take your place;
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
I too have lost my love today,
All of my dreams have flown away.
Now just like you i sit and wonder why;
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
You need some sympathy, well so do i,
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
She used to love me, that i know,
And it don't seem so long ago
That we were walking, that we were talking
The way that lovers do.
And so forgive me if i seem unkind,
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
(counter: and it must seem to you, my friend
That i ain't got no pity for you,
Well, that ain't true,
You see i love that little girl, little girl, little
Girl.)
I'd help another place, another time,
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
You've got your troubles, i got mine.
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost And Found
You know the question, find the answer
Stirring deep within your mind
Don't Have to Promise, You have a reason
For what it is you need to find
I was searching, until I found it
And I saw it in you
It seems so real, but I can feel me
Getting closer to you
If clocks could stop, time wouldn't waste
And I could tell you once more
That we are running, without eachother
There's not much to live for
I tried to find, the side you hide,
The side that pushes me away,
You're standing close so, I can tell you
That I wish you would stay
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
As days go by, you're fading faster
Looking for something new
It's hard to notice, you're looking past me
When I'm right within your view
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you, no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
It's been a bumpy road
I'll try to carry your load
I'll try to understand
Your fate is in your hands
If you could see my side
I wouldn't know myself
I'm lost without you here
If you could see my side
I will wait for you no matter what you do
Cause you're a part of me now
We will see this through
Go on to something new
We were lost but now we're found
We were lost and now we're found
song performed by by 1208
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Traffic Jam The Sequel
Everybody has feeling
But not every time they feel the same
One side feels it’s annoying
Other side feels it’s arrogant
When they don’t realize the other feeling
What wait in front are only troubles
Everybody has feeling
Sometimes it’s difficult to remember that
One side feels it is freedom
Other side feels it is threat
They think they will lose
If they should always care about opponent’s feeling
Everybody has feeling
“I should be treated first! ”
One side crosses the path
Other side slices the road
If everybody ignores feeling
They only become trashes
Everybody has feeling
But what would happen to the world
Everybody has their own problems
Everybody has their own reasons
But not everybody has good tolerance
If the patience over …
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dear Lorca
Dear Lorca,
These letters are to be as temporary as our poetry is to be permanent. They will establish the bulk, the wastage that my sour-stomached contemporaries demand to help them swallow and digest the pure word. We will use up our rhetoric here so that it will not appear in our poems. Let it be consumed paragraph by paragraph, day by day, until nothing of it is left in our poetry and nothing of our poetry is left in it. It is precisely because these letters are unnecessary that they must be written.
In my last letter I spoke of the tradition. The fools that read these letters will think by this we mean what tradition seems to have meant lately—an historical patchwork (whether made up of Elizabethan quotations, guide books of the poet’s home town, or obscure bits of magic published by Pantheon) which is used to cover up the nakedness of the bare word. Tradition means much more than that. It means generations of different poets in different countries patiently telling the same story, writing the same poem, gaining and losing something with each transformation—but, of course, never really losing anything. This has nothing to do with calmness, classicism, temperament, or anything else. Invention is merely the enemy of poetry.
See how weak prose is. I invent a word like invention. These paragraphs could be translated, transformed by a chain of fifty poets in fifty languages, and they still would be temporary, untrue, unable to yield the substance of a single image. Prose invents—poetry discloses.
A mad man is talking to himself in the room next to mine. He speaks in prose. Presently I shall go to a bar and there one or two poets will speak to me and I to them and we will try to destroy each other or attract each other or even listen to each other and nothing will happen because we will be speaking in prose. I will go home, drunken and dissatisfied, and sleep—and my dreams will be prose. Even the subconscious is not patient enough for poetry.
You are dead and the dead are very patient.
Love,
Jack
poem by Jack Spicer
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Hearts Of The World
Give me a minute, give me some time, give me a second to make up my mind
Just wait a moment, i want a chance to think it over
You say you can't wait forever, but something holds me back
Between the two of us, we can't decide, just where the answer lies
Chorus:
You know hearts of the world will understand, you know they will
Hearts of the world will understand
I feel a pressure i can't resist, intoxicated from the first kiss
Over the limit, your invitations leave me breathless
Although i can't wait much longer, something holds me back
Between the two of us the tensions rise, this feeling won't subside
You know hearts of the world will understand, you know they will
Hearts of the world will understand
My mind is torn between right and wrong, the two extremes and i hate it
I won't give in to you, just 'cos you want me too, ooh, life's so complicated
Ah but given time i might change my mind, we just have to face it
Between the two of us, we can't decide, just where the answer lies
(guitar solo)
Although i can't wait much longer, something holds me back
Between the two of us the tensions rise, this feeling won't subside
You know hearts of the world will understand, you know they will
Hearts of the world will understand - you know they will
Hearts of the world will understand, hearts of the world will understand
Hearts of the world will understand, hearts of the world will understand
(repeats out)
song performed by by Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Territorial Pissings
{intro thing}
When I was a little lad
Coal trains were not built yet
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Never met a wise man
If so its a woman
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Just because youre paranoid
Dont mean theyre not after you
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Territorial Pissings
{intro thing}
When I was a little lad
Coal trains were not built yet
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Never met a wise man
If so its a woman
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Just because youre paranoid
Dont mean theyre not after you
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
Gotta find a way
I better wait
I better wait
song performed by by Nirvana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wait A Little While
Heres a sweet september morning, theres the sense of autumn on the rise
He steps into the wind and sadly sighs
Why does it always seem to be, theres a cold december wind in front of me?
The more he fills his empty evenings
The less he feels that theres a chance to find
Something that can bring a peace of mind
Is there a place where you can go?
A little something you should know to turn the tide to your favor?
Chorus:
Wait a little while to welcome what youre after
Give it the time to find its way to you
And soon as you no longer try, youll turn and find it standing by your side
Come and get it, when you let it, itll come to you
(instrumental break)
Chorus (with staring in your eyes)
When I run short on inspiration, I best recall what Ive known all along
n I remember sweet septembers song, there never really has to be
A cold and bitter wind in front of me anymore
Chorus (with staring in your eyes)
Just forget it and wait a little while, while, while
Wait a little while, everything will come to you in time
Wait a little while - everything will come to you in time
Wait a little while - every little things gonna come to you in time
Wait a little while - everything will come to you in time
Wait a little while - everything will come to you in time
Wait a little while
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Leader That Was Pushed
Once on a time a general whose name is handed down
To the present generation as a name of high renown
Once on a time this general - I trust you understand
This happened years and years ago, and in a foreign land.
This general once stood before his army, thinking hard;
And he talked about advancing, but he didn't move a yard,
For, to put the matter plainly, though he knew his cause was right,
And desired to be the leader, yet he didn't want to fight.
He bravely talked for hours and hours of tactics and defence
(In good sooth, he was a leader of undoubted eloquence)
Till his soldiers grew impatient, for they spied afar the foe,
So they started marching forward, and the leader had to go,
Though he begged for time to elocute, they forced him to a walk;
Then they broke into a double, and he hadn't breath to talk.
If his soldiers start to push him - well, that can a leader do?
Thus he led his army forward - of necessity, 'tis true.
Oh, they forced him to a run,
And the firing of a gun
Gave him qualms about the business, but he couldn't change his mind.
He'd have dearly loved to pause
And orate about The Cause,
But he had to keep responding to the pressure from behind.
Then he yelled a battle-cry,
And he waved his sword on high,
But he mournfully reflected as he viewed the foemen's horde:
Leadership may be all right
While the foe is out of sight,
But, like the pen, the silver tongue is safer than the sword.
The fight was won. That general, his heart swelled up with pride,
Delivered speeches eloquent to his victorious side;
And the peroration hinted they should rest while they'd the chance;
But the army wanted more of it and urged him to advance.
'Twas here the general resigned to join another band
That didn't yearn to go and fight the battles of the land.
'Twas a calm, reposeful army, and that leader suited well;
For it let him talk of fighting while it sat and took a spell.
He was leader of the tired,
And he never was required
To go ranging o'er the country to attack a savage foe;
And whene'er he thought it best
To sit down and take a rest,
Well - it's rude to push a leader when he doesn't want to go.
And, if by some mischance,
He should mention an advance,
They would let him talk about it and applaud him very hard;
They would hail him as the man
Who by right was in the van;
But they'd grab him by the coat-tails if he sought to move a yard.
Give attention now, my masters, to this general's career;
He was affable and eloquent, but let me mention here
This happened very long since - twenty thousand years or so;
For now, we know, a leader leads before he's forced to go.
But if, perchance, at any time, a leader you should find
Who objects to moving onward till he gets a push behind,
Far better shift him from the front; his place is never here;
And let him join the other crowd - the Army of the Rear.
Let us have a moving army, let its leader be a man
Who doesn't need a shove behind to keep him in the van;
And if he halts to elocute, let's shift him off the track,
And put him 'mid the baggage-carts and lumber at the back.
There to seek a reputation with the busted and the bushed:
For no man may seek for Honor who insists on being pushed.
And he who seeks to lead must keep ahead a yard or so,
For - it's rude to push a leader when he doesn't want to go.
For a leader of the kind
Who requires a kick behind
Isn't any sort of leader, when you come to think of it;
And the generals we need
Are the fellows who CAN lead
The men who know the track to go, and tackle it with grit.
Wherefore, when you hear the talk
Of these fellows who would baulk,
While they flood the land with eloquence till mentally you're bushed.
Just remember, words and air
Seldom lead to anywhere,
And reflect upon the story of the leader that was pushed
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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