Control Freak
Her father was a control freak.
He had to know what she was
reading and seeing and hearing
and whom she was meeting and
hey he said who was that kid I saw
you talking to outside school today?
Archie she said he's just a friend who
likes the bands I like oh so he says
her father said you know what he's
really after? I'll tell you shall I? she
hated it when he went on like that.
Hated his presumption of knowing
what other's thought or what their
deep desires were. He wants to get
inside your panties that's what he's
after her father said and she blushed
and said no he's not he's not that kind
of boy oh what you telling me the kid's
batting for his own team? Huh? Huh?
And some other time as she was reading
a Dostoevsky book he said who's he?
some Russian writer? You read the enemy?
What's a matter with good old American
writers? Not good enough? She closed
the book and put it away in her schoolbag
and took out a battered copy of Naked Lunch
by William Burroughs and started to read.
That's better a good old American writer
her father said and smiled and sat back in
his chair by the fire not knowing the book
opened out a different world for her and
a whole new other kind of deeper desire.
poem by Terry Collett
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Related quotes
Relax the night
At bed
Your's...
Sleeping
Time...
You read...
Some book's...
Every budy
Good reading spot
Is bed...
Bed is not
Good reading spot...
Reading spot is not bed...
But...
At your's
Bed read some book's...
At your's sleeping time
With quick sleep...
Read the book's
At bed...
With out sex...
With out crime...
With out serieas...
Just joke book's
Read with your's sleep
And relax the nighrt...
Good night...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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My little book
blind as I was, deaf as my friend yet! have
gone as furthest as the universe, I thought
that was only a great dream of my past
laughing me seems to easy, for once I was
a little child is always a child, it was the day
where my father and mother hold me so tight,
closing my bulging eyes as they read, telling
some fabulous stories and then gradually falls
my attentive ears down to my sight and there
no more
all comes to meet my fantastic imagination,
making my childhood memories filled it all, with
what is all remembered is not what it makes, for
what ever is heard now has gone as it is done
books tells me different stories, that relates my
ways, for I taste of what is the past and today, simply
I know that hearing is not reading and reading is
always remembering
my little book paved me the way that in my little
room I will be free....read and read and read...the
only way to visit and see, of what is yesterday for
the future belongs today.....and reading always
become part of me
poem by Antonio Liao
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She Sinful Or Wild
All or nothing at all
her father had said
and it seemed right
until she met Harpoon
and he seemed her
Mr Right the one she
had been waiting for
the one she'd dreamed
about but then it all
went wrong and he
became Mr Wrong
and oh yes that was
the downfall that was
the way to her deep
depression and that
episode in the bath
when she tried to
drown herself as her
mother had before her
and she discovered her
as a child coming home
from school and the
door was ajar and when
she went in there was
her mother with her
wrists slit and blood
and her mother drowned
and dead and now sitting
there in her mother's
chair her father some
place her husband poking
some other and all or
nothing at all seemed all
there was left apart from
the few books on the shelf
the Bill Burroughs her mother
had read and left and that
Bukowski book she'd found
in some second shop and the
battered Bible which her
father had beat her about
the head and backside with
as a child when her father
had been boozing or she
had been sinful or wild.
poem by Terry Collett
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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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I get letters from readers who say that they have always hated reading, but somebody suggested one of my books, they actually finished the book and enjoyed it, and they're going on to read another book. I'm thrilled that they have figured out that reading is fun.
quote by Caroline B. Cooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Father Told
Father Told
i
Father told, ink filled pen causes writing
I poured ink into pen and started to write.
ii
Father told, the door if knocked
Some one or other will open that
I knocked at the door
From other side the door opened.
iii
Father advised me to walk carefully
I proceeded step by step
But I stumbled on the walking way
Father told, this is ornaments of walking path.
iv
Father asked to return back at practical world
From the world at poetic imagination
I returned back at practical world
And started to proceed
That walking path of mine followed me.
v
Father advised to read and learn
I read book and learnt
Also informed the neighbors
They learnt, taught and informed
Their surroundings.
vi
Father advised me to behave gently with all
I behaved gently with all, but
Some persons misbehaved with me
Father told me to be forgiving
So, I forgave them.
vii
Father told, open your incite, you will
Find everything is easy- straight and charming
No sooner I opened my incite
Infinite butterfly built their dwelling there.
viii
Through eye that you see
That is only present
Through mind that you see is past, present and future
I closed my eye and spread
I spread mind at wings of butterfly.
ix
Father told, every moment is under control of creature.
Even a leaf moves at his direction.
I listened, flying at sky as cloud
Falling in dropp as rain- bloomed as flower
And I extended over the air as aroma.
x
Father told, physique of creature dies, not soul
I close eye and become the king
Of far unknown kingdom.
xi
Father told, sun rises in the east
And sun sets in the west
I heard, saw and believed.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Father, son, spirit
The father conceives his son
the son grows with his father
the spirit allows the heritage
Father, son, spirit. The father says sweet things to his son
the son is a rosebud to his father
the spirit remembers the instant of conception
Spirit, father, son. The father works, gladly
the son at school, learns much
the spirit, lovingly, joins them
Son, father, spirit The son makes his father, a good father
the union of father and son,
is the work of the spirit of love
Spirit, son, father.
poem by Teresa Gonzalez-Lee
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The Book
I have found myself searching for a book in my father's attic.
A book that he meant to burn, but instead hid away.
On his deathbed he told me categorically to destroy it,
by burning each page come what may.
The book was a Greek translation from ancient Aramaic text,
which was discovered in eastern Turkey in 1886.
The goat herder that found it sold it for a few Turkish lira
to a Greek mountain climber and archaeologist.
In Athens he read it and told a learned friend about its contents,
his so called friend told someone else and so did he.
This inevitably led to the book being stolen and repeatedly sold,
until my father bought it from a French soldier in 1943.
As a young man my father studied ancient Greek at university
and soon realised what the book contained.
It was a powder keg of mind blowing revelations about the psyche,
its development and expansion were explained.
It detailed the mind control of others, mysticism, and the occult.
The practice of spiritual and angelic communication.
The transportation of the body to other dimensions,
and life's process of perpetuation.
My father read the book though didn't practice it's teachings,
he realised the enormous threats to life it contained.
But for many reasons he found its destruction impossible,
so it's fate with me remained.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Yesterday
My friend says I was not a good son
you understand
I say yes I understand
he says I did not go
to see my parents very often you know
and I say yes I know
even when I was living in the same city he says
maybe I would go there once
a month or maybe even less
I say oh yes
he says the last time I went to see my father
I say the last time I saw my father
he says the last time I saw my father
he was asking me about my life
how I was making out and he
went into the next room
to get something to give me
oh I say
feeling again the cold
of my father's hand the last time
he says and my father turned
in the doorway and saw me
look at my wristwatch and he
said you know I would like you to stay
and talk with me
oh yes I say
but if you are busy he said
I don't want you to feel that you
have to
just because I'm here
I say nothing
he says my father
said maybe
you have important work you are doing
or maybe you should be seeing
somebody I don't want to keep you
I look out the window
my friend is older than I am
he says and I told my father it was so
and I got up and left him then
you know
though there was nowhere I had to go
and nothing I had to do
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man That I Loved So Much
Since I was born,
I love him so much
I see him everyday I wake up
Cooking my breakfast,
Fixing my Lunch, and
Taking care of my younger brother
I know he's fantastic, perfect, and kind...
He may be a hero like superman., , ,
But for me he will remain as my father
no matter what may happen
I just want to tell everyone
how good it feels to have a father
I'm so honored to have a father
poem by xHeLeEn aShiyA
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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If You Hate Poetry
i have read that somewhere,
if you hate poetry
you have to get
this book,
buy it, and
you will love
it.
sales talk.
if you really hate poetry,
why buy
a book of poetry?
you may dislike me
but poems
are nothing but
spits
of something
that you do not
want to stay
inside your throat
all i need
is a little relief
from this
urge to vomit
and here you
are
reading mine.
(i am
laughing)
so do you really hate
poetry?
k, buy that book
you will really
love it
(the book)
and hate the more
what you hated most.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I never thought I'd be a writer. I never thought I'd be able to read a book, let alone write one. So if books like this inspire kids to write, or even read a whole book, I think it's good.
quote by Don Novello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Father Unite Us
Today my prayer will be short and sweet for you Father has given me yet another day to stand with strength upon my feet. Father I ask only one thing in this short little prayer. I ask Father that you unite all the people of this earth as one. I ask Father that you help us to realize that we really are sisters and brothers, that we are covered by the blood of the lamb, that no one can come between us while we are holding your glorious hand. Father unite us so that we will grow strong and able to fight the enemy. Protect us Father while we stand as soldiers under your great umbrella. Let us find peace in this world Father. I leave it all to you Father for you are our great leader, you are the King, You have the ability to make great mountains crumble and to part the rough waters of the sea, you are the all knowing and the great almighty.
Father I leave this prayer for peace to you, knowing that you will know what to do.
I pray Father in the name of your precious son Jesus. Amen
Written: March 2,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
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The Letter My Father Will Never See
if only one last time i could see you. if only one time i could tell you what i think. if only one time i could say what i've been thinking for all these years. if only i could just not care. if only it didn't hurt so much. if only i could say that you dont matter. if only i could tell you. if only one time you'd listen. if only you knew. if only i could tell you your an ass. if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through. if only you were around to say good job.
as a father you have failed. as a father you were never there. as a father you never held me. as a father you never cared. as a father you never gave me praise. as a father you never brushed my hair. as a father you didn't teach me about life. as a father you didn't teach me how to care. as a father you never showed me love. as a a father you you let me cower in the corner. as a father you scared the hell out of me every night of the week. as a father you came home drunk. as a father you didn't put me to bed. as a father you never gave me a hug as a father you were my worst night. however, for some reason i cant fathom your my father. and for the same reason i cant fathom how you earned the title when being a father was one thing that you never were and dont seem to want to be.
Read Me Like a Book
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
You will find each piece to fit.
Very little of it will be misunderstood.
I am not a one dimensional quick read at all.
I lay it on the line.
You will find I wont allow anyone,
To sit and pick my mind.
I don't waste that kind of time.
Unless,
Of course...
You are divorced from that as well?
Hmmm...
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
You have no idea how much I wish,
To get you hooked.
Craving to salivate.
Drooling!
Each chapter has been crafted,
With some sentiment and pain.
You will find some sorrow and regret.
And some expression of heartache left.
You will discover blemishes and flaws,
With attempts to have them corrected.
Notice I admit imperfection...
With self reflection I don't neglect.
Or regret it is you I wish to impress.
No games of tit for tat I play.
I say what I mean.
Not what you wish to hear me say.
And none of it is from mumbled lips.
I want each word read you 'read' conveyed!
I want what I say in your mind to stay.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
But you will never comprehend...
How long this process took.
Flip through each page,
As if you seek definition.
You will discover I am not perfect.
But freed by a peace...
To solict your complete and total admission.
Willing to show you mended scars.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
I knew you were coming!
That's why it is already open.
Take your time.
I want you to find me an easy read.
Hopefully to collaborate on new chapters.
Together,
You and me.
You wish to read me like a book?
Good.
Take me with your eyes.
Hold me in your hands.
And bring me close to your heart!
There we are.
Touching!
That's how I like it.
Do you?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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