My Book
Before I drink myself to death,
God, let me finish up my Book!
At night, I fear, I fight for breath,
And wake up whiter than a spook;
And crawl off to a bistro near,
And drink until my brain is clear.
Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength
To write and write; and so I spend
Day after day, until at length
With joy and pain I'll write The End:
Then let this carcase rot; I give
The world my Book -- my Book will live.
For every line is tense with truth,
There's hope and joy on every page;
A cheer, a clarion call to Youth,
A hymn, a comforter to Age:
All's there that I was meant to be,
My part divine, the God in me.
It's of my life the golden sum;
Ah! who that reads this Book of mine,
In stormy centuries to come,
Will dream I rooted with the swine?
Behold! I give mankind my best:
What does it matter, all the rest?
It's this that makes sublime my day;
It's this that makes me struggle on.
Oh, let them mock my mortal clay,
My spirit's deathless as the dawn;
Oh, let them shudder as they look . . .
I'll be immortal in my Book.
And so beside the sullen Seine
I fight with dogs for filthy food,
Yet know that from my sin and pain
Will soar serene a Something Good;
Exultantly from shame and wrong
A Right, a Glory and a Song.
poem by Robert William Service
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Related quotes
The History Of You And Me
Everytime you think of me.
Write it all down in your diary.
And never forget you were mine.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
On every page that you write.
Move your pen, with those old memories of me.
Holding me in your arms.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Try not to miss a word.
Don't miss a single word, about those old romantic nights.
The nights you spent with me.
'Cause you can write a book about love.
And you can write a book about history.
The history of you and me..
Yaahh! The history of you and me....
Love Song Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1990,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Book
If I write a book,
Would I approach
You to write its
Review?
Why?
If my book is
Worth reading,
Wouldn't you be
Tempted to write
Its review?
Why should I
Use you for its
Marketing and
Publicity?
If you like my book,
You'll yourself feel like
Sharing with everybody
It's an instinct
That comes
Naturally…
We believe in
Loving and giving,
And so if we genuinely
Like something,
We'll recommend it
Or choose it for gifting
So if I write a book,
I'll never beseech you
To write its review
I would rather wait
For you to feel free
To read it and perhaps
Write its review…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Book Of Guidance
Book of knowledge,
Book of truth,
The book of old,
Contains the youth,
This book has plenty,
On lies and deceit,
This reveals how to get up,
After every single defeat,
This book of love,
Tell the story,
Of the beauty's dove,
And Gods glory,
This book of life,
Is the way to live,
Be free be true,
Be pure all the way through,
Be trustworthy have honor,
Live long and prosper,
Please God and love your father,
Have fun and be one with your brother.
poem by Jordan Moore
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When I Write The Book
Nick lowe/dave edmunds/billy bremner
Plangent visions music, ltd.
Now I can remember like it was only yesterday
Love was young and foolish like a little child at play
But oh how lovers change -- I never dreamed how easily
cause now Im just a shadow of the boy I used to be
And when I write the book about my love
It will be about a man whos torn in half
About his hopes and ambitions wasted through the years
The pain will be written on every page in tears
When I write the book about my love
I was a fool to myself when I kept on runnin around
And I fared little better when I tried settlin down
Maybe some magic moment
Ive never known one, not for long
For all too soon the magic is in a moment gone
And when I write the book about my love
Itll be a heartbreaking story about love and luck
When I get down on the pages all I felt
It will make the hardest-hearted of critics hearts melt
When I write the book about my love
When I was young love was fun and I was so happy
I looked so good, and I dressed so snappy
Two-tone shoes on my feet, big old smile on my face
As I moved and grooved all over the place
Now Im down in the heels, my complexion is bad
cause my love life is sadder than sad
And when I write the book about my love
Itll be a pop publication, tougher than tough
When I get down on the pages all I missed
It will shoot to the top of the best-sellers list
When I write the book about my love
song performed by by Huey Lewis And The News
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Kings Cross
The man at the back of the queue was sent
To feel the smack of firm government
Linger by the flyposter, for a fight
Its the same story every night
Ive been hurt and weve been had
You leave home, and you dont go back
Someone told me monday, someone told me saturday
Wait until tomorrow and theres still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and theres still no guarantee
Only last night I found myself lost
By the station called kings cross
Dead and wounded on either side
You know its only a matter of time
Ive been good and Ive been bad
Ive been guilty of hanging around
Someone told me monday, someone told me saturday
Wait until tomorrow and theres still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and theres still no guarantee
So I went looking out today
For the one who got away
Murder walking round the block
Ending up in kings cross
Good luck, bad luck waiting in a line
It takes more than the matter of time
Someone told me monday, someone told me saturday
Wait until tomorrow and theres still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and theres still no guarantee
Someone told me monday, someone told me saturday
Wait until tomorrow and theres still no way
Read it in a book or write it in a letter
Wake up in the morning and theres still no guarantee
And theres still no guarantee
There is still no guarantee
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write synopses after the book is completed. I can't write it beforehand, because I don't know what the book's about. I invent something for my publisher because he asks for one, but the final book ends up very differently.
quote by Jackie Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mole
Said he: "I'll dive deep in the Past,
And write a book of direful days
When summer skies were overcast
With smoke of humble hearths ablaze;
When War was rampant in the land,
And poor folk cowered in the night,
While ruin gaped on every hand -
of ravishing and wrath I'll write."
Ten years he toiled to write his book,
Yet he was happy all the while;
The world he willingly forsook
T live alone in hermit style.
In garden sanctuaried sweet,
Full favoured by the steadfast sun,
plunged in the Past, a life complete
He lived. . . . At last his work was done.
A worthy book that few would read
Yet all would praise - each precious page
Starred with some truth the rare would heed,
The vivid images of an age,
Then blinking, to the world again
He came a sage, remote, austere . . .
When lo! his eyes were smote with flame,
The wail of war was in his ear.
He shrank and sighed: "Oh can it be
These old iniquities prevail!
That sons of men are still unfree
And time repeats her sorry tale!"
So with a long sad gaze and last,
Seeking his secret garden nook,
He slipped again into the Past
To live - and write another book.
poem by Robert William Service
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An Indicator
oh lord
of course
you dont need angels
to tell the sin of each of your men
of course oh lord
each man knows he
himself is the author of his deeds
given your breath
a blank new book he is
to write his own real tales
good or bad
how a thief
would always appear - a thief
in whatever way he might want to hide
oh god, you dont need
an angel to write down each man's deed
a liar would always look like a liar
only fools cannot tell them
from the good souls
their voice, their expressions, every of their acts
an open book to tell what they are
this physique an open book
we write our life tales
for god's judgement at the end of the day
we jot down our own heaven or hell
for god's convenience
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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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!
Be kind and considerate with your criticism... It's just as hard to write a bad book as it is to write a good book.
quote by Malcolm Cowley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Great nations write their autobiographies in three manuscripts - the book of their deeds, the book of their words and the book of their art.
quote by John Ruskin
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Great nations write their autobiographies in three manuscripts--the book of their deeds, the book of their words and the book of their art.
quote by John Ruskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Come By
If you come by
And I'm not here
Do not worry with a tear,
But just gives a smile
If just for a while
And remember, that I once was here.
And if you look
And you find my book,
To remember the things I have said,
Just give a thought
For you have caught,
Feelings, I once had read.
For I was here
Not long ago
Along with the freezing snow,
Writing dreams and remembering things
So man wouldn't let go.
But the dreams had died
One gloomy night,
When wishes were no longer made
So they didnt need me to write them down
So my book, they threw away.
If you come by
And I'm not here,
And you have a dream in your mind.
Just open a book
And then you look,
A dream, you might have found.
So write it down
Without a frown,
Or a lonesome tear.
But remember that thought
That you had sought,
For now, you are here.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Best Book In The World
the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature
the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within
the best book
the only true book
(every other book is distortion)
is the world itself
the Book of Nature:
read it
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Which is a wonderful irony, I have property there. I go back every chance I get. One of the main reasons I actually wrote the book, agreed to write it having never wanted to do that in my life, very intimidating by the way to write a book.
Talking Book
I wish I had a talking book
That told me how to act and look
A talking book that contained keys
To past and present memories
A talking book that said your name
So if you were gone, youd still remain
More than a picture on a shelf
In imagination I could touch
A talking, talking book
I wish I had a talking book
Filled with buttons you could push
Containing looks and sights, your touch
Your feel, your breath, your sounds, your sighs
How much Id bluster to ask it why
One must live and one must die
I wish I had a talking book
By my side so I could look
And touch and feel and dream, a look
Much bigger than a talking book
A taste of loving future and past
Is that so much to really ask
In this one moments time and space
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love really be replaced
By a talking book
Can our love ever, forever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
Can our love ever be replaced
(can our love really be replaced)
By a talking book
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Usually a feeling of disappointment follows the book, because what I hoped to write is not what I actually accomplished. However, it becomes a motivation to write the next book.
quote by Anita Desai
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I am 55 years old now. It takes three years to write one book. I don't know how many books I will be able to write before I die. It is like a countdown. So with each book I am praying - please let me live until I am finished.
quote by Haruki Murakami
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