Pages
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1998
Found on human nature.
In this bookcase full of stories
You find some of them are true
Tales of love and glory
Many lives of daring-do
There is mystery and adventure
They lie waiting there for you
So step inside and find the other you
Take the high road tomorrow
But the low road today
Reading others sorrow
Might just be the only way
The father hears confession
While the mothers feeling blue
These characters do what you want them to
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
Theres glamour and dementia
A message from the tomb
Staircase to the heavens
And secrets in the room
When you are riding on that dark horse
To the one that got away
Theres no regrets and no dues left to pay
cause in these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
Drifting down the river of the make believe
We laugh and grieve
Hoping for an ending of our own design
Where all is fine
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born
Speaking to the senses lifting the forlorn
In these pages we consume
Lives in many colors lovers in full bloom
And through the ages words are born... (fade)
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
This Fun
it's fun
in fact it's more fun
being here
i am thinking
a lot
about people that
i've met
that i barely know
there are only
glimpses
outlines of their lives
in such
a short conversation
it makes me feel
so elated
comforting me that
i am not alone
in this...
say,
sorrow joy
sweet-sour memories
like fish and sauce
on a platter
this fun thing
it's more fun really
on these islands
i am taking more
hours of my life
on the plane
hopping from one island
to another
threshing out stories
of real people
that i met
and talk with
in such a short
witting hours
i do not care
anymore
if what they are
telling are true
does not really matter
sort of
short stories themselves
that they are
weaving
like spiders
in the far corners
of the cities
it's more fun
to be frank with you
merely listening
somehow
the words that travel in my ears
make my senses full
i am not alone
all of them
are telling me
this world is a place
of stories
sounds and colors
it is real
they are all telling me
how come
that i did not really know that?
must i be dumb?
or was i just sleeping for all those years
or simply pretending
to know a lot
from books and pages of the newspapers
?
i am seeing a big river
i put myself inside a wooden boat
take the paddle
and start my way
in the water
i stop a while
to touch the ripples
and then
we are going
into something that we have
never know
under the moon
my shadow speaks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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It's Christmas And I Miss You
It's Christmas and I miss you
Your memory
Still lingers on
You're not really gone
And this message
Will find you
Through space and time
This love lives on
Here and beyond
And I will hear you
When Christmas bells are ringing
I will touch you
Though we're far apart
And I will feel you
When I hear the voices singing
Like magic when I'm dreaming
You are here
An angel in my heart.
But it's Christmas and I miss you
How simple it used to be
Just you and me
But when the bells ring
I will hear you in the music
When the angels sing
It will be our song
I will call you
With a love across the ages
I find the words beyond the pages
To describe my love
But it's Christmas and I miss you
Bridge: No one can tell where this road will lead
I guess we should follow our hearts
I'm not sure of much, but I know one thing
Nothing can keep us apart
And I will hear you
When Christmas bells are ringing
I will touch you
Though we're far apart
And I will feel you
When I hear the voices singing
You're a shining star burning in my heart
And when the bells ring
I will hear you in the music
When the angels sing
It will be our song
And I will hold you
With a love across the ages
I find the words beyond the pages
To describe my love
It's Christmas and I miss you
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Ages
I am coming out of dark ages
And I lived half way through my life
Also I got my hand dirty in the mud a long time ago
I did it and got my tshirt and that job is over
I am coming out of dark ages
Because I spent most of my life in dark ages
And I saw so many dark skies while I went through my life in dark ages
I am coming ou of the dark ages
To help the children in their daily life
By teaching what is right and wrong
Because the children needs to learn what is right and wrong
So they don't became a criminal when they grew up
Because here on earrth are full of criminals already and we have more than What we can handle
I am coming out of the dark ages
To show my love to the children that lives here on the earth with us
I am coming out of the dark ages
Because I want to play with the children everyday here on the earth Because I know that I can make the children happy for once
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Her Lovers Play.
Beatles tunes
And deep maroons
Swirl in my head.
As dancers
Under crescent moon
Twirl round my bed.
As symphony
In a sky blood red,
Starts to play.
And
As I am asking why
Stars just look the other way.
Teardrops
Never dry
Until sun is born.
And love
Will never die
But float alone
Forlorn.
She took a lancet
To my soul.
At first
I felt no pain.
Now waves of agony roll.
Her lovers play,
In which I lived a role
Faded.
With midnight train.
And now I lay
Within this room
A new today.
Another flower to bloom.
Another lovers play.
poem by Kevin East
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Conjugating
I conjugate the verb to be:
miracle sentences;
non-existent one moment
then coming into Being
utterly unique the next;
perhaps never before
uttered
in all of existence
before this
moment,
on this page
at this time
from this mind.
Miracle this,
shared by all of us.
I conjugate the verb Coming into Being
from Potentialities of Being
trolling for words not yet extent
having some portion of Being
but not yet born
on Poet Pages.
I conjugate the verb Now Being Born
words coupling in sentences
flowing down
forming paragraphs
couplets, rhymes,
emotional hieroglyphics,
history,
Ideas
and glifs,
and then they
are on to Being Past.
In single verbs
we lash together
all Being;
that which is Now Born on pages,
that which was written yesterday
and those word-stories
we borrow
from future sentences
yet to be born
which live only in our dreams.
We conjure all this
from that Beautiful Nothingness
where Creativity lives
where unexpectedly
these Beings
come as daytime
and night-time sprites
into life
shine as diamond-faceted
moon-beams
changing who we are
as they transit.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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True Colors
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh I realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small
But I see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And that's why I love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from True Colors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kiss Me Softly
Theres a state of grace that happens every day
Its a feeling I thought lost of locked away
Another question to an answer that I know
Oh, are you coming home, coming home for sure
Id walk a thousand miles, just to hear you calling out my name
Chorus:
Kiss me softly kiss me slowly
I get lost in you like only lovers do
Hold me closer love me tender
I get swept away like only lovers do
Youve awakened something deep inside my soul
And every moment, every breath I feel it more
Your hidden treasures that you keep down deep inside
We make love freely as we watch the new sunrise
Id live a thousand lives if every one I loved could be with you
Repeat chours
Id live a thousand lives
If every one I loved could be with you...
Repeat chorus 2x
Only lovers, only lovers, only lovers do
Only lovers, only lovers, only lovers do
Only lovers, only lovers, only lovers do
Only lovers, only lovers, only lovers do
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colors Of The Spirit
We are one, we are one
Distant rhythm in a troubled sky
Angry clouds divide the sun
Feels like thunder and so do i
Bloody silence has begun
Flying like a wounded dove
Tomorrow comes undone
Surrender dont come easily
We try to get over... over
Falling together... together
Many colors of the spirit
Many lives below the sun
We are colors of the spirit
We are many... we are one
Ask the question - whats goin on
Why raging children run
Wheres the fathers legacy
Wheres the harvest of the son
Close your eyes and tell me what you see
I see the same thing... same thing
Many colors of the spirit
Many lives below the sun
We are colors of the spirit
We are many... we are one
No, surrender dont come easily
We try to get over... over
Many colors of the spirit
Many lives below the sun
We are colors of the spirit
We are many... we are one
We are many... we are one
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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400 ~ Bloom
Just begins to bud,
a rose,
holding hopes and fears
behind
black-red, velvet-soft petals.
Startled by a bright, new world,
it opens,
revealing petals of humility.
Blushing, growing,
opening as it becomes
accustomed
to beauty in light.
Proud color spreads wide across,
full bloom,
not as dark as at first,
glowing
from light that has filled it.
This rose can never die.
As love,
It can lose color, wilt, fade,
but in the mind,
the rose
will forever be in bright, full bloom.
This rose stands a symbol,
to time.
What has occurred to arrive at
now?
All the bloomings have led to one bright bloom,
this rose.
As someone has made me bloom,
she is
beauty and
light. Changing
my colors, releasing
my fears,
I owe her much, love
will never die, like
the glowing bloom of this,
a rose.
poem by Stan Pelfrey
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Cactus Dreams
when i toss in my bed
my own thorns prick me
i dream of a soft bed
every night i retire
when i see my neighbour
in full bloom splashing colors
i look forlorn at my thorns
dreaming of the day i bloom
when tears drip down my
thorny epidermis, i unwittingly
raise my arms to wipe them away
it's then i dream of soft hands
when around me i see
shades offered to the weary
i look at my thorny self in shame
and dream of a rebirth...
15jan2010
21.45hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Rainbow of my Life
You put rainbow into my life
Different colors, so bright
Rainbows that full of life
That gives colors to the lonely skies
Rainbows end is a pot of gold they say
A treasure to keep as long you stay
Rainbow is like a man or a woman in our lives
It shines, gives us colors, gives us life
That would shine through the rest of our lives
But sometimes rainbows are gone
Not shining nor not giving colors in the clouds
Nor not giving life to the lonely skies
When its so hot and dry
Rainbows is like a life
Giving us water when everything is drought
Giving us colors when everything turns out dark
Making us smile for the different colors they had
You are like my rainbow
You give colors to my life
You give meaning to my lonely nights
But as like rainbows
Sometimes they are gone
Sometimes they don't show
Sometimes not giving us life
You are my rainbow
For a moment in my life
But now, my rainbow is gone
The shines, the colors, the bright
For my rainbow will never shine again
To my lonely life
(09/05/09)
poem by Gil Caguiat
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True Colors
You with the sad eyes
Don't be discouraged
Oh i realize
It's hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness inside you
Can make you feel so small
But i see your true colors
Shining through
I see your true colors
And thats why i love you
So don't be afraid to let them show
Your true colors
True colors are beautiful
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Twelve Deadly Cyns ...and then some
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Reoccuring Dream
Words and music by joni mitchell
This is the reoccurring dream
Born in the dreary gap between
What we have now
And what we wish we could have
More fulfilling--and less frustrating!
Out of the envy in our eyes
Look!
Glamorous picture people rise
Radiant!
Gleaming down from screens and pages
Ooh--glamour--before your very eyes!
Isnt it true--isnt it true?
Good question--i know--who cares
Look here they tell you
If you had this
If you had that
Latest styles and colors
If we had that for us mmmmm
Wouldnt it be fabulous
If you had that house, car, bottle, jar
Your lovers would look like movie stars
Movie stars, movie stars, movie stars
Order your youth secrets of the stars
Call now--just $9.99
Our discontent is their delight
They offer relief for the purchase price
Love in a bottle
Love on four wheels
Is that our new car charles?
Isnt it true--isnt it true?
We guarantee it--pick up your phone and dial
See here they sell you
If you had this
If you had that
I want a new truck!--more power!
If you use this shampoo
True love will come to you
If you had that house, car, bottle, jar
Your lovers would look like movie stars
Movie stars, movie stars, movie stars
Hollywoods greatest legends
Recognize this?
Dreamer
Soft sexy hair
Dream on
Hes going to love me in this ruby, ruby lipstick
Others will notice!--sexy!--who cares!
Recognize this?
Dreamer
Latest styles and colors
Oh, dream on, dream on, dream on
The fashion looks youve been hoping for
Sexy--sexy
Recognize this?
Dreamer
So special
Dream on
We will have happiness in heaven
The place you dreamed of retiring to--
Who cares
Recognize this?
Dreamer
I know that glamour is--sexy
Oh dream on dreamer
What could go wrong?
Dream on
Who cares!
Recognize this?
Dreamer
Im afraid I cant go below two million
Dream on
Life would be easy if I had that new appliance
Food processors for all of us
Who cares!
Recognize this?
Dreamer
There are lots of strings
Dream on
We can solve everything in science
Naturally
Science
Its a picture of how to get what you want out of life
Recognize this?
I love it
Dreamer
Isnt there some other way?
Who cares!
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In An Old Diary
Faded pink petals
tween old yellowed pages
In a time worn ol’ diary
Filled with eras and ages
Leaves, red and golden
Pressed between old yellowed pages
Of old diaries beholden
to lives unfolded stages
Still linger on pages
Faint aromas and memories
Of phases and stages
All now, long lost histories
Tarnished brass clasps
Still holds e’er so tight
As did young hands once grasp
To their breast in the night
Fervent feelings writ in faded black ink
Young hopeful yearnings from the past
Love and longing, an enduring link
Diaries, as do lives, grow old e’er so fast
on withered old hands one laid on the other
Lines of blue veins trace out as a map
In repose on a tattered old cover
Of an old diary, in an old lady’s lap
poem by David Whalen
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Flowers and Pages
Flower petals saved
Between holy pages
Dryed and faded, both are
Deep words of life,
Love simply stated.
Memories and hopes
Together combine, ever to
Transcend places and time...
- Life is not a simple dream,
There is so very much
Beyond what is felt, heard and seen...
- Lifes paradox is of such:
So full of beauty
At the start,
So worn and weary
At the finish;
Boundless knowledge
Cannot free the heart,
Endless effort
Cannot still the days
That continue to diminish.
- Perhaps tis truly the other way around,
Only with relaxed acceptance
Through the real beauty of age
And understanding
Can love of life
Ever fully be found.
Humanity,
Wrong from the beginning
Of sin;
Redemption right
To the very end...
For what truly is the meaning
Of the mysterious messages
Life to us does send?
(Tacit translation
Terra-incognita
Revenant revelation unto
Beautiful buena-vista.)
Life, like the beauty of the flower,
So gradually fades
Like the slowly disappearing wonder
In a sunset,
Nearly imperceptable end of days.
- Will our lives be found
Only to end
Like the sun,
Burning down the Western horizon
Blazing so beautiful and bright,
until finally captured and killed
by the darkness of night...
Shall the flowering Garden bloom again?
Will that beautiful sun ever return?
(some seeds planted
only grow after all the weeds
have been thoroughly burned)
Yet for now
the weeds still thrive,
And the flowers are barely able
to remain alive.
So, how shall our lives be found saved,
preserved eternally
between some sacred pages?
(the Words there upon print
to the flowers beauty and reason
do give quiet hint)
Who the answer knows?
One and the same:
The books Author,
The lover and saviour
Of the true beauty, that is the Rose.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Wisdom Of The Ages
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Listen, to the wisdom of the ages
Listen, to the words of many sages
Live each day, as if it were your last
Its written in the stars, your destiny is cast
And that hourglass, runs too fast no doubt
For the sands of time are running out
Listen, to the wisdom of the ages
These words, can be found in historys pages
Live each day, for happiness cant wait
And love while you may, but heed the hand of fate
If the finger points, its too late no doubt
For the sands of time, are running out
But the man who turns, and escapes somehow
Is the wisest of men
And to such a man, Id bow
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Colors Of Life
See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
Wherever you go
Wherever you may go
Trust in hope, trust in your real friends
Planet colors alive, you hold it in your hands
Realize you have to open your eyes
And Ive learned everything has always two sides
You're not alone
The world is one family
You're not alone
Find your way to be free
You're not alone
Love is the hope to survive
You're not alone
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
See the colors of dreams
They are wild and free
See the colors around
See the colors around
The colors you have found
See the colors of life
See the colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
The colors of life
The colors of dreams
The colors of life
There's a land, there's a place in your heart
Tolerance is the key to make a better start
I've been waiting for my lessons of life
And I've learned everything has always two sides
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Children
welcome dear heart of the few, who lives and
drink through out the ages, the race that guide
every phase of the earth, renew and subdue, all
what the world can give
as you go, seldom I hear your sweet yawn! The
little tiger as it cried, the laugh that makes all
smile, the smooth and shinny skin makes the
whole morning bright, the small finger that move
slowly, of which stroll our way so easy, all is a
miniature of what our lives so funny and happy
now the endless ages has gone, you become
one, in the universe, where everyone have to
stand, the wonderful echo of call, I hear it before
and now have come to talk with me on the sand I
want to land
the children of today, wake your own senses, its
you who should lead the way, the you, the I, the
we that will brings unity in the day to come, where
only the children of today has brought reality of
this world we stay
come as you run, the smile the cheer, the
laugh and the fancy joke, to the wonderland are
gone and diminish, be alert the world is so
slippery and the pathway is so dark, lou! the star
above now it shows, for the guiding star always
look below and the eyes that see find it easy, for
the way of the children lives in every pupil
everyone can see
poem by Antonio Liao
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Now You Begin To See The Colors Of My Painting In Words
sadness is painted in some words
that go like a monologue
stuttering at times like one grasping
for breath and yet
still wanting to say more,
you know at first glance
seeing some syllables
about what i feel.......today, the anger that gropes
for words
explosives and
screaming soul while the storms rage on the corner
of the shores
then you ask, needlessly, the words speak for themselves
how is it here
they picture my jagged jaw, my eyes that shout
and curse
sometimes i am surprised with the way my senses
are born
remembering the first cry, the first slap
how it was
for a mother to see my first encounter with reality
how it was
that i have succeeded to simply forget
the colors of the poems i have written last night
screaming red turning to patient blue
and then silent green
and then that feeling of having control
with the purples feeling noble
and the orange still
promising to live for another day
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Brephos
Although it is easy for one to think, it is not always easy for one to write
Not all thoughts can be expressed into words, nor should they. Rousseau said in his solitary walks or was it his confessions? That his most beautiful thoughts died in him as quick as he thought them and how he at the time wished he had a pen in hand to write them all down. Those thoughts are dead, but perhaps those same thoughts are born in others written down somewhere in all of infinite time. Some thoughts like some lives are not meant to be born. The seed of this thought, watered by my serene tears, germinates in my soul as I write this letter. Still I can't find the words to express its beauty, its paradox, its mystery. The seed germinates but no plant is born, no flower blooms. For every child that isn't born, for every thought trapped in the moral order nature's thought; the ineffable, the unborn, the unknown, I hope one day you find expression and tell the world what you are and what beauty really is—To eloquence that never speaks, to thought that never thinks, to life that never lives, in my heart you speak, think and live.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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