The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: CXIII
TO ONE WITH HIS SONNETS
This is the book. For evil and for good,
What my life was in it is written plain.
These are no dreams, but things of flesh and blood,
The past that lived and shall not live again.
This is the book. I dare not bid you read.
Too much of my poor soul you would unlock.
Your own soul, if it tender were, might bleed.
I could not bear that you should only mock.
My life lies here. And yet in vain, dear heart,
The tale is told. One page it yearns to see,
One play where one best actor should find part.
But that, alas for love! shall never be.
Yet, if a sign you seek between these lines,
One hidden lies for you, a sign of signs.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes
The good of a book lies in its being read. A book is made up of signs that speak of other signs, which in their turn speak of things. Without an eye to read them, a book contains signs that produce no concepts; therefore it is dumb.
quote by Umberto Eco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Book's Monologue (revisited the years later portion of part 16)
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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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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So Long Ago
'To thee, who lost a love as I,
Allow this little book of living song
To bring thee solace, and the comfort
That is thine, to know thou livist not alone,
To bear a burden such as mine.
Addie Marketier,1853.'
As if it were a live, hot coal
That seared my heart,
I held this little book of love sonnets
That she had held so long ago.
I turned the pages she had turned. I touched
The teardropp stains on lines of verse
That she had underscored,
And left the pressed rosebud
Where it had lain a century or more.
I thought of what the past had wrought
With images of her soul-grief.
I seemed to feel her presence, as a being
Without shape or form.
A disquieting sensation sat upon my heart,
That she had lived in solitude
Within the shadow of the shatter
Of her dreams.
There is no separation between the soul
And its deep pain, except the grand sweep
Of passing time, which does not erase
But, only softens sorrow.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Poetry
These words are not porcelain
Nor are they sculpted from a certain glass
Nor do they shine even after the hour is passed
But they break like flesh and bone
They are a metaphor
For china
For fragile things
And underneath lies the poetry
Beneath the skin
It lives and breathes
Some senses burn hot
Some passion dry cold
But beneath the tempest
Lies the still hour glass
Of all thats told
And these words are the flesh and the bone
The lines in your head
The shadow in the photograph
The stories you have lived
For who can read you, after words?
Who can know the journey you have taken?
Or understand such imprints in the sand?
And yet they the live and leave their sign
In the body of one life
yvette smith feb 09
poem by Yvette Smith
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How Many Lies ?
Once there were times,
Once there were reasons filled with rhymes,
Everything shared, everything told
You keep me so warm,
Protect me from all those mighty storms
And dreams seem so old
So look at us now, just look at us now,
With our hands on our hearts
And lines on our brow
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
Do you read through the lines,
Or believe the tv and the times?
Where can we find more ways to see?
You strain on the truth,
And make believe all when you cry wolf,
And the lies youre giving me
So look at us now, just look at us now,
With our hands on our hearts
And lines on our brow
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
Oh, well the truth is hard,
So when they write the book,
Fictions what you wanna be
Well, its your freedom of choice,
But you know that lies, are the cancer of democracy
Youve painted your face,
And now youve tainted your words
And now youre ready and armed with love
Well if youre head is steady,
And your soul is ready,
Were going up above
So whatever you wanna be,
Just come on along with me,
If theres truth in our hearts,
Maybe we can break free
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
How many lies must we tell?
How many lies must we see?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave truth as the casualty?
How many times must we say, its for the best?
And leave nothing, yeah
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contract In Love
written by Lamont Dozier, Janie Bradford, & Brian Holland
(c) 1962 Jobete Music Co., Inc. (ASCAP)
Baby, baby, sign my contract on love
Baby, baby, sign my contract on love
Baby, baby, sign my contract on love
Baby, baby, sign it
Sign it
Sign it
Sign it
You say you love me
And I believe it's true
But before I let myself go
Here's what you've got to do
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
You've got to sign
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
My contract on love
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
Write it in your heart
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
That you'll never do anything
To ever make us part
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
Yeah, I know it may seem strange to you
Yeah, but I've lost a love so many times before
Yeah, and now that I know the score
No one's gonna hurt me no more
And I'm takin' all my chances with romances
Yeah
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
So just sign
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
Right here on this dotted line
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
Where it says you'll be mine, all mine
(You, you, you'd better sign it)
Until the end of time
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
So come on, come on, come on, and
Sign, yeah
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
Sign, yeah
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
Sign, right here on this line
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
Yeah
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
(Sign it)
Sign, yeah
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
Sign, yeah
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
Sign my contract on love
(Baby, baby, sign my contract on love)
FADE
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was Written
Chorus
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
Verse 1
Well did you know the pen was stronger than the knife
and they can kill you once but they cant kill you twice
did you know destruction of the flesh is not the ending to life
fear not of thee anti-Christ
Did you know that I exist before the earth
and did you know my eyes are windows to the world
Did you know you cant go a Zion and a wear jerry curls
Cant tell the boys from the girls
Ya body just a vehicle transporting your soul
Its what inside the people is beauty to behold
Fear not of evil
Everyday them fleshed growed
Changes of the times they get told
Chorus
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
Verse 2
Me say me want
Freedom, justice, equality
As it was written on the book of lights and sociality
Me want fa big up Marcus Garvey say me big up Huey P
Me na want no brutality in a me reality
I can see it in the signs everyday I live
Its clear to ma mind somthin getta give
The system is the problem but it aint just gonna change
The people got to fight as one and break free from the chains
We livin in a time where whitey got us corned
Shackles on the brain police on every corner
They lookin for some soldiers but they so hard to find
My elders say be patient cause things come in time
Not fast enough because
They want fa rewrite ma history and make the motherland a mystery
cause we to strong fa them to dis we
because if it wasnt how it is then it would definitely be
because the days is up
blaze it up
AFRICAN WARRIOR raise it up
Push it up
Fill up ya cup
We had enough so were gonna buck
Now is the time open ya mind
Then you will find its a design
You matter what you do no one can stop the time
Dont want no KKK no CIA no brutality
Ghetto youths and RBG we ridin fa liberty
Been here before the start still here after its over
And its written in the heart of every soldier
Chorus
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
And it was written
up in the book of lights
theres and mansion and your forever more
song performed by by Dead Prez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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Healing Through Poetry
The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows
I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift
I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain
Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read
November 22,2009
Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.
poem by Dorian Petersen Potter
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The Diary
Dot the I's, cross the T's
and read this once again.
Close it up. Take the key.
Lock it. Put down the pen.
This diary I will always keep
bringing to my mind
all the endless things I do
that I leave behind.
All the meaningless, tireless words
that sum up all my days
never seem to express my dear
the costly price one pays
for loving someone much too much
like I loved you.
No one will ever find your name
if some day they view
what I've written in this book,
what I did impart.
Your name ny love, I could not write.
I kept it in my heart.
So when my life is finished dear
if they come upon this book,
they won't even know you existed
for they won't know where to look.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Requiem II - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem II
From life's dark, unwholesome cage
where love frets, siege raised in rage,
set free who sad lived, glad the page
turns uniting night to day.
Crave no rave elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here actor lies in heart arrest
retractions over his clay.
revised 25 December 2009
robi03_0796_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
for previous version see below
Requiem II
In a dark, unwholesome cage
let me fret and seethe in rage,
sadly I’ve lived and glad the page
turns uniting night and day.
Rave no crude elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here lies life’s actor under arrest
with a tractor over his clay.
Requiem I
Through the artificial flowers
let me slide when all my powers
have passed as pass man’s mortal hours,
and let me burn.
Spurn graven verses for my head,
spade not the body laid, instead,
as I’ll no longer look ahead
book me no urn.
© Jonathan Robin – Parody written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he long’d to be
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Robert Louis Stevenson 1850 - 1894
Requiem
Under the free and open sky,
There let me rest, nor breathe a sigh, -
Gladly I’ve lived, and gladly I’ll lie,
Content by night and day.
Grave no rude tombstone to mark my rest;
But deep in your soul may you say with zest;
“Here is the Seeker after his Quest,
And the Actor after the Play.”
Hamish Mann 1896 – 1917 A Subaltern’s Musings: 1918
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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Requiem I - Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Through the artificial flowers
let me slide when all my powers
have passed as pass man’s mortal hours,
and let me burn.
Spurn graven verses for my head,
spade not the body laid, instead,
as I’ll no longer look ahead
book me no urn.
© Jonathan Robin – written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem for alternative version see below
robi03_0795_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
Requiem II
From life's dark, unwholesome cage
where love frets, siege raised in rage,
set free who sad lived, glad the page
turns uniting night to day.
Crave no rave elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here actor lies in heart arrest
retractions over his clay.
© Jonathan Robin – written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem revised 25 December 2009
robi03_0796_stev02_0001 PXX_DIZ
for previous version see below
Requiem II
In a dark, unwholesome cage
let me fret and seethe in rage,
sadly I’ve lived and glad the page
turns uniting night and day.
Rave no crude elegy to test
verse prowess, - without protest
here lies life’s actor under arrest
with a tractor over his clay.
© Jonathan Robin – Parody written 2 December 1995 Parody Robert Louis STEVENSON - Requiem
Requiem
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me
Here he lies where he long’d to be
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.
Robert Louis Stevenson 1850 - 1894
Requiem
Under the free and open sky,
There let me rest, nor breathe a sigh, -
Gladly I’ve lived, and gladly I’ll lie,
Content by night and day.
Grave no rude tombstone to mark my rest;
But deep in your soul may you say with zest;
“Here is the Seeker after his Quest,
And the Actor after the Play.”
Hamish Mann 1896 – 1917 A Subaltern’s Musings: 1918
poem by Jonathan Robin
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(Inspiration Poem) A Book Never Read
Living by the fire
Living to admire
Living down to the wire
Still the wheels don't turn
I think it is because I want it
Urn for it
The beautiful almighty
I will not pray
Not as long as I live day by day
How much does my soul really weigh?
How many sins can be forgiven?
The fog will eventually choke you out
Whine and pout all you want
It won't make a dent in my steel cage
Because it was built from pure rage
If Its not a stage
What am I going through?
Its just another page of my book never read
Words as stale as the food I was fed
Maybe it was how many times I have been dropped on my head
I plead guilty to an unwritten destiny
I lied to myself in a mirror straight to my very own face
Memories erased
It's just another page of my book never read
I can't be lead astray
Especially if I'm willing
It's not much different then stealing
A moral yeng then yang
A oh so perfect harmony
Keeping things on a even keel
Always questioning what is real
It's just another page of my book never read
I hold on so tight to my comfy bed
Such a beautiful night
The stars are glistening oh so bright
I turn off the lights
Sleep for the dreams of a tomorrow
We are all living on borrowed time
So I ask again where's mine?
A question that continues to go unanswered
Draw your own conclusion
It's another one of the deep dark mysterious illusions
It's just another page of my book never read
It's as if every word has never been said
It's just another page of my tattered and torn book that will be never read
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Book Of Love
In the book of love come of age
When you lose your love, you turn the page
Hey-ho the book of love,
Life is written in your own blood
Say forever and it all sounds fine
When youre holding hands,
With the hands of time
Hey-ho the book of love
Laugh at the dead but tomorrow you cry
Chorus:
My broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Change of lovers endlessly
And this book of love is writing me
Chapter 2 you walk away
But in chapter 3 a man made me stay
Hey-ho the book of love
Why dontcha look up
All the games you played
Chorus
Theyll be sweet love in a darkness
But the book of love
Is a story of your loneliness
Finger tipped it on a holy night
And a page is ripped for a name of life
Check the back cause the datell be due
When theyll throw the book of love at you
They are broken hearts from a to z
Dos and donts on bended knees
Disappointed right to be
Celebrate a celebrity
K-i-s-s-i-n-g
Ah stupid cupid set me free
Took a look and whatll I see
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
This book of love is writing me
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Book
Have you ever opened a book?
And feel like it’s your life
As you watch each page go pass
You think where did I get lost
Each chapter is an ending
Of what was or what could have been
But each new chapter a beginning
Brings you hope to live again
But the hardest thing in life
Is as you turn each page
You must learn to pass the pain
That lies between the pages
Each chapter a lesson
In life’s little games
Then we smile at ourselves
As we close the last page
To look forward to anew
Of a new chapter in our life’
We smile and nod
At the new book of life
poem by Kaila George
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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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Finding The Good
I was once told take the good out of every situation. But where is that? The wind has blown the grass flat. The glass was broken. So it cant be half full any more. When I'm sober, I see the tears poor. I walked out the door, never to turn back. I was once told take the good out of every situation. Just where is that? Its like some hidden contract. Where do I sign? Read it. Oh never mined. I get on a train to nowhere, anywhere but here. To hell with the white tailed dear. It will snow then it will go like they always do. I was once told take the good out every situation. Just where is that? Tell me where is it? I must have missed it by miles. Maybe I lost in a file. I feel just like a child. Its all pretend. The white house with the picket fence. All the lies are slowly choking me. Please console me. For my misery hates your company.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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