Stage Props
Arts undergraduates crawl multi-purposely
through library mouldy mountainous mounds
prescribed listing litter lingers read supplementary
plastered educational material theory bounds.
Degrees chance declarations insight book bound
folded focused individualistic thrown paper darts
crash flies adrift on previously argued genre opinions
conveying contemporary redundant captured hearts.
Capped comedy completes constraint covered courses
readied for routine survival ritualistic graduation lines
quietly quiver finals finale studying scenting expectants
exemplar exhibition congraduatory radius exclamations.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
I must say I find television very educational. The minute somebody turns it on, I go to the library and read a good book.
quote by Groucho Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Manifesto Of Contemporary Poetry(2012)
Contemporary poetry is a junction zone of distilled sky and earth of
(1) .psychology
(2) .philosophy
(3) .ethics
(4) .new aesthetics
(5) .contemporary socio-cultural-economic-moral-political-technolog ical issues reflecting power and knowledge
(6) .initiated knowledeg and creative wisdom of contemporaneity6.moment-to-moment decision making process
(7) .Alchemy between existing contemporary literary theory and working definitions of a practising and operational poet after modernist's literature and poetry
(8) .the end of literary genre concept
(9) .the concept of the continuum-chance, change, revisiting and reconceptualization
and
(10) .Contemplating on quotidian mental and physical experiences.
POET NYEIN WAY
1: 25 pm February 21,2012
I wanted to be in a band that gave bang for the buck. I wanted to be in the band who didn't look like a bunch of guys who, you know, should be in a library studying for their finals.
quote by Gene Simmons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Venus' Advice To The Muses
Thus to the Muses spoke the Cyprian Dame,
Adorn my altars, and revere my name.
My son shall else assume his potent darts;
Twang goes the bow; my girls have at your hearts.
The Muses answer'd Venus, We deride
The Vagrant's malice and his mother's pride:
Send him to nymphs who sleep on Ida's shade,
To the loose dance and wanton masquerade:
Our thoughts are settled, and intent our look
On the instructive verse and moral book.
On female idleness his power relies,
But when he finds us studying hard he flies.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Multi-emotionalized
I'm the one that's suppose to feel,
Everyone's pain.
Including my own.
But less magnified.
I am suppose to pledge my allegiance.
No matter if I am spit and spat upon...
At the expense of my self expression.
On streets where my ancestors more than paid,
For displays of these misgivings.
Misunderstandings...
That I'm expected to internalize,
And make them my own.
To dispense and share,
With those in joyous despair and disillusioned.
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.
Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.
I'm only here for purposes,
To help you feel supreme!
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
I'm a mult-emotionalize thing you think you've made!
I'm multi-emotionalized with each emotion taught,
To be slick and smooth and as sharp as a razor blade.
Sharpened to display any emotion.
If asking for it!
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
And a swift change to those statistics come.
A stiff reconditioning to redo and rejuvenate...
A thought process needing to be undone.
With follow up statistics coming to shake up everyone.
In a multi-emotionalized doing!
Not everyone should be expected to feel or see,
From your perspective which is fading.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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July 1 2009***Giving His Boots a Rest
He is resting
In a comfortable Library chair
With his boots and jacket on
His backpack is nearby
He's reading today's paper
And has three plastic covered
Magazines stacked on the floor
To read next
He's in from the cold and rain
He's in where it's warm and dry
He's been to the men's room to
Wash himself and his socks and shorts
Wrapped in a plastic bag
He'll dry them later
Now he's trying to get his boots to dry
They're damp and well worn
They are not worn out
Just like him
They are well worn
They've covered many miles
He's worked in them
He's slept in them
To keep warm and to see
That they are not stolen
Where do you put your shoes at night?
Under you bed? In your closet?
It's been a long time
Since he's had either
How do you
Keep your feet from freezing
In the long hard-frost winter nights?
How do you keep warm?
If you'd never had to worry
You wouldn't appreciate
The warm dry Library chair
That gives his boots a rest
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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A Bit Of Paper
Every bit of paper
you see dancing on the floor
has a story to tell
of how it got there.
It could have been dropped
by some careless hand
or thrown away deliberately
by some litter bug.
Now that bit of paper
started its life as a tree,
standing tall and majestic
in some far off land.
It was probably the home
of some wild creature there
until a lumberjack
with no pity
came along and cut it down.
Now that bit of paper
goes dancing with the wind
until someone catches it
and throws it in the rubbish bin.
4 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Open Book's Monologue Part 5: Welcome To The Library!
Welcome to the library! come one come all
Welcome to the library! come with your brethren on this wall
Welcome to the library! come all you books tattered or new
Welcome to the library! come tired and overdue
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're most mundane
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're to endure most pain
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit unwanted
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit haunted
Yes welcome to the library where everyone's just like you
Yes welcome to the library where we're all books too!
Yes welcome to the library where you can take comfort
Yes welcome to the library where In the fact you're no longer unique
Yes welcome to the library You're just pen marks ink
Departing the library? I think not, even if you get out we'll bring you back
Departing the library? Here you rot, but we'll dust you to ease your passing
Departing the library? Don't make me laugh, here you're black and white
Departing the library? Nobody argues on your behalf, look more amassing
Welcome to the library! A place of keeping and safety
Welcome to the library! Take your place you'll like it, just wait and see
Welcome to the library! New books don't mind the old they're disillusioned
Welcome to the library! You've sold your soul... but it's too late for you
so WELCOME
poem by David Knox
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The Cycle
The practices of speeches
Sharing a little vision
An insight
To tonight, to tomorrow
With words borrowed
We do not own them any more then our thoughts
They meant to live beyond the pages
They meant to teach those off all ages
It as any love
Their there too give you a hug
Their there to remind you to not be so smug
Explaining the because as it was
What has happen
They crawl, walk, and talk
They are everything and nothing
Ink scribbled down and folded up.
It is love note
As a kid does
passed to another
read aloud in ones heart
then it is ripped and torn apart.
to be forgotten except by that which beats so hard
for a child does not lightly forget
reinventing it
with their own style and smile
it is the english language cycle
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Virtues Of A Written Word
Patience
A virtue
Most valued
Through genes
Remitted to offsprings.
Written word
Held the sway
Messages were conveyed
Though delayed
No one could betray
Read and re-read
Several inferences drawn
Assumed art form
For courses prescribed
Pre-cursor for generations to arrive.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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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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Idiom: No love Lost
Love poems, how trite they become.
Their hackneyed themes we want to scream.
We purposely shy away from
That genre, teeming so it seems
With grandiloquent, large supplies
Of conjured words with empty rings
Of cheating hearts and love that dies.
Ad nauseam is all it brings.
We wish just once that we could read
Where love’s expressed differently:
Brand new verses that supersede
Love’s banal themes in poetry.
Love-lost poems are sickening
But most of all they are boring.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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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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Listen, Learn, Read On
In ages past when spells were cast
In a time of men in steel
When a man was taught no special thing
It was all done by feel
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Hear the song of lovely joan
Her sound so sweet and clear
In the courtroom of the king
Among children and the peers
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
now hear ye the words of taliesyn,
On the foaming beach of the ocean,
In the day of trouble,
I shall be of more service to thee
Than three hundred salmon...
The hare he bounds across the page
Past castles white and fair
Past dreaming chessmen on their boards
With a fools mate as a snare
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
three times I have been born
I know this from meditation...
The bird he flies the distance
From pages two to six
Past minstrels in their boxes
To the waters of the styx
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
Dont take the pictures lightly
Listen to their sound
For from their coloured feeling
Experience is found
So listen, so learn, so read on
You gotta turn the page, read the book of taliesyn
all the sciences of the world are collected in my breast,
For I know what has been, what is now,
And what hereafter will occur...
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If the arts are held up solely as a means of social insight, fantasy is denied the chance to be commonplace and reality the chance to be exotic.
quote by Richard Eyre
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Read A Book
Und wenn ich einen Wunsch frei htte
Ich wnschte wrden wir verstehen
Alle Schatten hinter uns lassen
nur weies Licht vor uns zu sehen
No hate, no fight hearts killing
I wish no trouble anymore
There's nothing more to tell about
There's nothing left to be decided
Just read a book
So, read a book about love (reaching love)
Read a book, read a book about love
Und wenn du einen Wunsch frei httest
Ich wnschte, wrdest du verstehen
Nur weies Licht vor uns zu sehen
And if we just should be together
oh, we could feel so warm an tight
All we need is only two of us
to show the world that we've decided to
read a book
to read a book about love (reaching love) ...
Take a look about yesterday
I guess you know
that you're here to stay
Read a book, ...
Read a book, read a book about love (rep many times)
Read a book, ... (rep till fade)
song performed by by Falco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After That.
After that
the only
thing she thought
mattered was
the sunlight
coming through
the tall trees
as you and
she lay on
your backs by
the large pond
listening
to birdsong
and the wind
coming through
the branches
and she there
full of life
breathing in
the sharp air
and she said
Van Gogh could
have captured
this morning
with the trees
and sunlight
and the way
the wind moves
through branches
and you said
but Renoir
despite his
arthritic
hands could have
captured your
young beauty
on canvas
somewhere off
a dog barked
a cow mooed
and your hand
like a crab
moved over
the green grass
and touched her
small warm hand
and she smiled
like da Vinci's
painting of
the Mona
Lisa you'd
seen in that
old art book
in the school
library
tucked between
a battered
old atlas
and book of
poetry
which no one
ever read
no doubt the
pond's still there
the sunlight
and the wind
but she's not
she gone now
all silent
amongst the
peaceful dead.
poem by Terry Collett
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I Dont Know Why I Bother With Myself
I dont know why I bother with myself
Im a fool , Ive taken no advice
And Im so cruel , Im talkin to you nice
But then again you may not take me back
Oh just to put my hat back on your rack
Guess I dont know why I bother with myself
You will find a part of me in someone else
I never argued with the fact that she is mine
I only hurt her and kissed her three times out of nine
You have the edge to talk to men and make them feel at home
You spent that every lasting cent on someone thats not your own
Bear with me theres bound to be a chance
To heal the wound and start back our romance
I gained a heart and part of it is yours
Oh just to see my love walk through these doors
Oh and my lifes bound out ahead , I can not look
And if you read me , then I am just a book
You dont care if rain falls in my room
You wont be there if trouble fills my spoon
Im just a clown that plays around with misery in my way
Forgetting all the rules of love ....(fade)
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Transitologists
Election in Tunisia without meeting the
most important criteria for successful
government and the highest good of
the nation-state:
Educating the leaders of Africa, how to
bring about separation between church
and state, how to provide for multi-ethnic
-religious, and -cultural peoples
Moving from Western-style democracy
- which always fails in Africa - towards
Federalism – studying Transitology to
change authoritarian regimes…
Searching for Transitologists: Contemporary Theories of Post...
faculty.wcas.northwestern.edu/~jlg562/ .../Gans-Morse-PSA.pdf
File Format: PDF/Adobe Acrobat - by J Gans-Morse - 2004 -
Carothers (2002) ... definitions of modernisation theory and
transitology.... economic, social, then political evolution—
….authoritarianism and democracy (Brown,2000)
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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I think young writers should get other degrees first, social sciences, arts degrees or even business degrees. What you learn is research skills, a necessity because a lot of writing is about trying to find information.
quote by Irvine Welsh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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