Burning Books
Throw your books in the fire. What do they say
As the pages crisp in soft, warm embers?
When the paper blackens the words away,
What thoughts will the ashen scraps remember?
Erase the nostalgia of history
And abandon semiotic recourse
In the shrouding exhaust of mystery.
Let them vanish in the singeing heat's source.
Destroy the facts that exceed their meaning.
Allow truth to shribble inside the pit
Underneath illiteracy's screening.
Let the ledger's binding begin to split.
Stoke the blazes of intolerance
That make all information ignorance.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Related quotes
Books
The universe (which others call the library). . .
-Jorge Luis Borges
Books which are stitched up the center with coarse white thread
Books on the beach with sunglass-colored pages
Books about food with pictures of weeping grapefruits
Books about baking bread with browned corners
Books about long-haired Frenchmen with uncut pages
Books of erotic engravings with pages that stick
Books about inns whose stars have sputtered out
Books of illuminations surrounded by darkness
Books with blank pages & printed margins
Books with fanatical footnotes in no-point type
Books with book lice
Books with rice-paper pastings
Books with book fungus blooming over their pages
Books with pages of skin with flesh-colored bindings
Books by men in love with the letter O
Books which smell of earth whose pages turn
poem by Erica Jong
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Blank Pages
Blank pages
Blank books
Lie with only drowning white
No pretty messages in the sand
No clocks to turn a hand
Blank pages
Blank books
Looking into an empty void
Like staring at purgatory
Words with no meaning making up a story
Blank pages
Blank books
Stay staring at the celing
Empty without effort
Nothing without words
poem by Autumn Winds
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Under The Falling Sky
Warm and lovely mystery, fire smiling through
Before this moment fades away I want to know you
Ive got lightening in my pocket, thunder in my shoe
Have no fear Ive got something here I want to show you
Low, under the falling sky
Easily we will lie
While I bring it to you
Its a low road, a high wire going from me to you
And in your eyes the distance left is closing
Ive got a feeling in my oceans
Blood underneath my skin
That into your bright fields this prison is opening
Low, under the falling sky
Easily we will lie
While I bring it to you
Our shadows wake each day though they dont know why
They hope and try -- live and die
So leave them in their frozen world
Come and be my lover
If only for one stolen moment
We will live forever
Warm and lovely mystery, can you hear the choir?
Voices can no longer hold my desire
Abandon your sad history and meet me in the fire
Our angels wait to take us higher and higher
Higher and higher
Low, under the falling sky
Easily we will lie
While I bring it to you
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Know Me
Oh baby
You know me
Verse1:
I know people say they know you
But they've each a different face to show you
Honest people don't they take you
When they know you and they say they hate you
Why don't we take the time
To get to know each other
Isn't it worth it
Chorus:
Cause you, you remember what i say
Don't throw my words away
And that means the world to me oh baby
You know what i do what i do
Not a wall you can't see through
You look inside, yeah you know me
Verse2:
I've five fingers to count friends on
And they stand for what my life depends on
I don't get it those who don't try
So many molds and rules to live by
Break out of your shell
Put all hearts and souls out there
So glad i found you
Chorus
Chorus:
You, you remember what i say
Don't throw my words away
And that means the world to me oh baby
You know what i do what i do
Not a wall you can't see through
You look inside, yeah you know me
Bridge:
Now the surface is skimmed
Who knows what's in it
People can't feel what you're meaning
Chorus
Chorus:
You, you remember what i say
Don't throw my words away
And that means the world to me oh baby, baby, baby
You know what i do what i do
Not a wall you can't see through
You look inside, yeah you know me
You, you remember what i say
Don't throw my words away
That means the world to me oh baby
You know what i do what i do
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darkness Hopes
In each of us lives darkness
black as coal and full of desire,
that lies dormant in the midnight
though it longs to feel a fire.
The fire brings great brightness
to the heart of the darkest dark;
as it dances with abandon
flirting madly as it sparks.
When the sparks flash in the darkness
the blackness feels the heat,
that's created by a passion
when light and darkness meet.
Once the darkness is ignited
white light burns deep inside,
emboldened by combustion
once begun, won't subside.
Though as the fire burns lower
and the light begins to dim,
embers glow with excitement
for what will come again.
The darkness is quite patient
as it quietly sits and waits,
for the fire to build inside again
and reconnect the fates.
You see, the darkness holds out the hope
for the passion of the light,
to dance again with abandon
to bring a fire, burning bright.
(September 10,2010)
poem by David L. Harkins
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The Boy with Fire in His Eyes
The boy with fire in his eyes
Stands there waiting.
It is his soul inside;
It keeps him standing.
And if ever the fire goes out,
He will freeze in the cold.
It is his heat
And all that keeps him living.
Or if it never is put to use,
It will consume him;
He will burn to the ground
His ashes left behind.
But if the fire blazes,
If kindled, kept and carried,
If the boy with fire in his eyes
Finds life inside that fire,
His fire will light the world,
Will pierce the mist,
A fire to drive the dark away
Forever and ever more.
poem by Daniel Nairn
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The Book Of My Life
Let me watch by the fire and remember my days
And it may be a trick of the firelight
But the flickering pages that trouble my sight
Is a book I'm afraid to write
It's the book of my days, it's the book of my life
And it's cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife
And it's all there to see as the section reveals
There's some sorrow in every life
If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze
Then I won't understand 'til the end of my days
I'm still forced to remember,
Remember the words of my life
There are promises broken and promises kept
Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept
There's a chapter of secrets, and words to confess
If I lose everything that I possess
There's a chapter on loss and a ghost who won't die
There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry
There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies.
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
There's a chapter on fathers a chapter on sons
There are pages of conflicts that nobody won
And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat,
There's a page where we fail to meet
There are tales of good fortune that couldn't be planned
There's a chapter on god that I don't understand
There's a promise of Heaven and Hell but I'm damned if I see
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
Now the daylight's returning
And if one sentence is true
All these pages are burning
And all that's left is you
Though the pages are number
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Of Poetry
The mystery of words wisdom of the heart to each
angelic form, the voice of emotion in verse.
The melody of heart speak in words that feels the
emotion to express the deepness of feeling in the mind.
Thoughts of words flow to the emotion to make meaning,
to the essence that moves, sensitivity inside emotion
through the words.
Intellect of mind with the knowledge of experience power of
wisdom transcend to composition to unlock the perfect will of
words justify hidden truth.
The magnificent power compose words gives roots
blossom to the garden of heart and bring fruits to the heart of men.
Love kind words are power to win oneself to transform the
beauty of inside emotion to one particular individual.
The poetry, words of wisdom comes from inner motives of
good heart that gives us privilege to express the hidden
beauty of thoughts inside mind to put it in words.
The power to dominate inside individual for beauty and
wonder purpose of life.
Copyright (c) Jocelyn Dunbar
13th of May 2006
7: 50 A.M.
poem by Jocelyn Dunbar
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Ice-cold Refusal
Act of God Graham Phillips - a very academic
account, the first 200 pages are bone dry but
I forged on, set on reaching wonderful theories
about cataclysm & history, nearly did not make
it, getting buried under a dearth of facts, names,
funerary rites, conventional Egyptology
Ice-cold refusal to consider Graham Hancock
theories about pyramid age determined by
precipitation marks - all irrelevant, I'm only
guided by a need for the enthusiasm of the
inspired researcher but the first 200 pages
fail to touch the reader
After suffocating in a desert of words, names,
facts and conjectures, the author promises to
prove that the Egyptian events were the effect
of ancient cataclysms, I hope to reach this part
of the academic dissertation before losing my
mind in boring reams of facts
It's clear why maverick Zechariah Sitchin
is so much more interesting to read, especially
when one has no use for the ancient lore
in designing a dreamy life...
Act of God - Graham Phillips, Pan Books,1988
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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You Became My History
You were once a mystery,
The one I loved to solve.
Deciphering your code,
Always got me lost.
I thought of understanding you more,
But before I realised it,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Discovering you was a thrill,
Every puzzle I put together,
Granted me fulfilment,
But as time flew by,
you became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Every clue brought me closer,
Every step brought me nearer,
Only to make me smile,
I thrived on your addiction
But after a while,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
the very foundation that kept me stable,
Once I comprehended you, I began to feel able,
You were the ocean to my boat,
The cell to my system,
However, even without the distance,
You became my history.
You were once a mystery,
Clouded in question marks,
Trying to understand,
Trying to comprehend,
I was left with numerous thoughts,
The more I tried, the more I learnt,
The less I craved, and before I knew it,
You became my history.
poem by Zushan Hashmi
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Second Hand Books
Books! Books! Books! There are so many different designs.
There are some which, by the author, are personally signed.
Some books have pages with gilt edges, which look all posh.
Some have nice pictures on their covers, which are embossed.
Some books have hard covers, while some have soft.
Some are all dusty, where they’ve been kept in the loft.
Some books have fancy covers; some just have plain.
Some have suffered mishaps, and are now all stained.
Some books are all dog-eared at the corners of their pages.
Some have gone yellow, where they’ve been around ages.
Inside some books, there can be seen a pencilled name;
Someone, who once, on this particular book, had a claim.
Some are obviously well read; their spines are all creased.
From out of a book, amazing adventures can be unleashed.
Some books have pages which are spoiled or a bit torn.
Some have covers which are grubby and look well worn.
Some just have text, while others also include illustrations.
Some are former prize winners; once the toast of the nation.
There are books by famous authors, as well as the lesser known.
Some are former library books which, to the public, were loaned.
There are romances, poetry, classics, sci-fi, humour, and histories;
Gardening, cookery, travel, thrillers, manga, and murder mysteries.
In wooden bookcases, the books are categorised, and are neatly lined.
In a second hand bookshop, you just never know what you may find.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Dust In The Wind
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin?
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
I'm through with all the bullshit I've heard from you
Totally cut off
Seclusion
Walking into an illusion
Never ever land
Who has a plan?
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
Am I the undertaker?
Am I the heart breaker?
The one you never see coming
Till I'm gone
Took off running
Back to the hills
No more thrills
Dust thrown to the wind
Where does this truly begin?
When will it come to an end
Deja vu
Split in two
Whose who
What is a friend?
What is a lover?
Such words bring so much misery
Hate to love
Love to hate
Can anyone see the irony
Attraction isn't the same as destiny
A choice that is like not in me
Its just more dust
I throw it to the wind
Hoping I never see it again
Its just more dust
I throw it to the wind
Hoping I never see it again
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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History Lessons
Notoriously, history books are warm
and bland.
This one is smaller, neatly compacting
years into large print pages.
Somehow, the near coverless book
reappeared from the long, dim
Nun's library, dug up, specifically for
a reprisal of the 1918 Influenza Revisited.
It was a custom to pass out last editions.
A clear out of the aging history Teacher's
Library section.
An acknowledgement of the past
pressed onto a pupil for a masked honor.
Smells of old lockers, chesty
coughs, and fatigue. So many class
smiles and collective ease.
The book holds the marks of many
boys' notes, hen-pecked bits of scratch paper.
History written within history.
poem by Mary Anderson
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I Wish I Could Erase It
I want to be able to take away your pain
Like a magic fairy
Just erase it all
To make everything go away
Make your bad history, the history that hurt you, disappear
To make you happy, not live with the shame of having no way to protect yourself
I want to make your life a breeze
I want to destroy your pain
poem by Shelby Jasmin Estrada
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXXVI: How to Bury the Truth
Erase the answer
Keep the secret
Guard the treasure
Destroy the proof
Kill the witness
Faith the death
Slip the track
Ploy the mystery
Vague the time
Friend the darkness
Make an alibi
Web the power
Watch the rebel
Cover the news
Rewrite history
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Throw It All Away
How could you
Just hurt me
And leave me
(leave me all alone)
How could you destroy my life
How could you throw it all away
What made you
Desert me and deceive me
Why did you just let me down
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw...
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
When I gave my all, baby
How could you throw it all away
And I gave my all
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
You destroyed my life, baby
How could you throw it all way
How could you
Just lead me
Into thinking
(thinking you would be there)
How could you destroy my heart
How could you throw it all away
I love you
Believe you
And I trusted you
(put all my trust in you)
How could you just let me down
How could you throw it all way
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Girl how could you
Throw it all away
How could you just take it all
How could you throw it all away
Oh how could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all
Throw it all away
When I gave my love
How could you throw it all away
I love you girl
You love me so
Where did we go wrong
I know that i
Gave my all to you
But somehow that wasnt good enough
How could you throw it away
How could you throw it all away
How
Throw it all away
How could you destroy my life baby
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw
How could you throw it all away
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all away
When I gave my all baby
How could you throw it all away
Oh, how could you throw
How could you throw it all away
Throw it all
Throw it all away
How could you destroy my life
How could you throw it all away
Oh, girl I will
How could you throw it all away
Always love you
How could you throw it all away
Forever and ever
How could you throw it all away
song performed by by 112
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Astonishing And Astounding
My aura is violet tapering off into a soft,
rosy pink - the best explanation for what
is happening, I think; without planning I
browsed and found paper lined in violet,
pink, purple and green
And purple things: a mousepad, glitzy tiles,
a fairy dress - also discovered the softest
pink fleece - the same shade as the rose-
coloured satin throw I had bought for my
mother's bed
Also dug out my purple bag with pink diary
and my pink paper roses - yes, this must
be the colours of my aura, how else explain
everything perfectly fitting together with-
out my planning anything?
Borrowed 7 books from the library, Reader's
Digest ‘Did you Know? - New Insights Into a
World of Astonishing Facts and Astounding
Stories', ‘Space - The Hands-On Approach
to Science'
‘Visual Dictionary of the Universe', ‘Amazing
Facts', ‘Myths and Legends', ‘Symbols, Signs
& Visual Codes'; - best to begin with ‘How to
Improve Your Mind' by Andrew Wright to
prepare for the others
My son complains the book is for juveniles -
well, I'm old enough to be reckoned senile,
so this book is perfect for me - voilà!
Saturday 18 August 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Philadelphia News
I came to Philly
with only postiive thoughts
In mind
I was encouraged, and focused with a
Determination to find
The essential elements needed, that
Would make life very fine
Yet, I found the very source of
The effort forcing
Many things to fall behind
The deception of a few
Distortion of information
Rhymes and riddles also
Shady clues
All mixed together
Simply to fool
Now that I know the facts
My future plans have been renewed, and
No matter where I may find myself
In this life
I now know what I must do
Never put trust in anyone
Who continues to lie and
Hide the truth
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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Exhaustion Is So Fast
Peer pressure sets you on fire.
Their applause fans the fire lit.
You exhaust your fuel fast
And falls as embers so soon.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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I remember her words..
I remember her words,
By the terylene sky
In unblemished soft voice.
I remember her words,
In the bleak tinge of cold
And the warmth of her touch.
I remember her words
As a vesper of past,
In the urn of my heart.
I remember her words,
I remember her love,
On the caprice of my thoughts.
poem by Dinesh Sairam
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