To A Young Writer
Achilles Holt, Stanford, 1930
Here for a few short years
Strengthen affections; meet,
Later, the dull arrears
Of age, and be discreet.
The angry blood burns low.
Some friend of lesser mind
Discerns you not; but so
Your solitude’s defined.
Write little; do it well.
Your knowledge will be such,
At last, as to dispel
What moves you overmuch.
poem by Yvor Winters
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Related quotes
Anger With A Friend
Today I was angry with my friend
And I decided everything came to an end
I was irate for no reason
I acted as if my choice was treason
He sat with me like everyday
But today we did not talk or play
I avoided him as much as I could
Because I was angry with him, my friend
He tried to solve things out
By having a little spout
I turned my face away
Because I was angry with him, my friend
All his tries were in vain
He was true but I took it feign
Whatever so, I shunned him
Because I was angry with him, my friend
A friend or foe, now I thought
It baffled my mind, a doubt
But I bored him, ignored him
Because I was angry with him, my friend
What if I heard him through out?
Wouldn’t our fury be hindered?
Then we would still be friends
I should listen to him, my friend
He said words of fret and regret
He said of defense and confusion
He was a sad, mad lad
I forgave him all at once
He was my friend after all!
(WRITTEN FOR AND ABOUT MADDY....FOR A REASON I KEEP TO MYSELF)
OCTOBER 24,2008
poem by Sania Harris
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A Promise to Keep This Secret
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
Why would somebody have an elicit affair?
With a promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
And do it while sneaking around,
In the clear open air?
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A friend can be a friend to another,
Until the end.
But a friend can not be trusted,
When a cheating begins.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
And a friend can't be expected to defend a friend.
When that friend is also 'friend',
To those who swap and cheat on spouses...
Of,
Other friends!
Oh.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses,
Living just next door???
Keeping this a secret is a hard job.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses...
Living just next door???
Keeping this discreet is just too hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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(Strange Poem) Angry Aliens
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
Their is nothing you can do.
Your fear is pointless.
Your defenses are useless.
When they're done, their will no one left save.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
With instruments both sharp and dull.
An incision right across you skull.
An plantation technology unknown.
You will be a clone.
Do what they say.
How they say.
Their is just no other way.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
They will not explain their reasoning.
For your limited minds could never comprehend such matters.
It would drive you completely insane.
They do not understand why you struggle so much.
They see you as cows they need to herd in their pens.
For food, for experimentation, for divination.
Does the reason even matter.
A purpose that will never be exposed.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
If you had the power would you not do the same.
Do we not do this to other creatures we consider of lesser intelligence.
And if given the power do you think they would take upon a swift vengeance.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
Angry aliens their coming to get you.
Invading the body by unknowing means.
Taking control of your mind.
Their no stopping them now.
You better just listen to what say.
They expect you to completely and fully obey.
They are the angry aliens.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Fadeout 1930
Fadeout 1930 era
I never really tried you out
But all my friends who used to be
Just never had the time for me
You can change your colours
Ill just change my point of view
Ill live a lie to prove my point
Or Ill turn all my thought to you
Fadeout 1930
Keep a low profile
Strange how it gets around
Out of sight, out of mind
I look through me, Im out of mine
Everything I say, Ive heard
And nothings mine except my wall
Do you being (begin? ) to see
There really is no me at all
Fadeout 1930
Please dont feel scared
Nothings ever quite what it seems
I hope the sadness doesnt show
For I still cling to some old dreams
Private thoughts just to you
My head liked private ways
Ive never tried so hard before
Ive really nothing left to say
Fadeout 1930
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tomorrow
Bring me in to the world full of wisdom,
As I sit here to ponder how I’d become.
OH! It is such a little knowledge, I would be lost;
So teach me of what you know – skills of no cost.
For I was born and raised by the hands of poverty –
Callused by dirt and mud in the farm of lesser dignity;
Mother! Where were you when I was young?
Your death made me crave to crossroads of unknown.
Father! My hands are too small yet how can I help you;
Or am I too short for a man to work like you?
Siblings of my older blood who oozed away from me,
Come and reach me! Here, I can’t find my way.
For I’m naught today and future isn’t it tomorrow,
In “War of Knowledge, ” where! ...Where else can I go?
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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Anima Ignis (Soul Fire)
This is the gift unto me: The power of the Judah Lion!
A holy, holy, present I see: It comes from the Mount Zion!
My Soul burns, My Spirit truly yearns,
God has given the power that discerns,
And gives my Soul Fire!
Many and many a moon ago,
A devil of temptation brought man low!
Yet a sacrifice was given to sinful man,
And achieved the impossible, which only holy blood can!
Through great pain and tempting,
His death brings me gain and my soul is singing...
Of all this weariness of Mortal Attire,
I sing of my Salvation, and my Soul Fire!
This is the Gift unto me: The power of the Judah Lion,
A holy, holy present is He: He comes from the Mount Zion,
My Soul burns, My Spirit yearns,
God has given the Power that discerns,
And gives me my Soul Fire!
poem by Joseph Oliver
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A Poem Explodes In This Poets Mind
flying flocks travel in flight,
another faulkner puts down
his shovel, and writes, writes
and writes.
spare me the out cry,
spare me the empty familiar,
spare me the muddled spirits,
and write your own words
with your own blood.
flying flocks travel in flight,
sextan turns up with her friend
plath, and they both write, write,
and write with their own blood.
spare me the out cry,
spare me the empty familiar,
spare me these muddled spirits,
and write with your own blood.
Flying flocks travel in flight, and
a poem explodes in this poets mind,
and i write, and write, and write,
and on this white paper, my blood.
poem by David Gerardino
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The Depression of the 1930's
The depression of the 1930's was the time of my childhood days,
There were a lot of worries and hardships in many ways.
Whatever time people could spare, they would help each other out,
Bad times also came when there was a draught.
The depression of the 1930's our parents would help make quilts of all kinds,
They would work long hours, day and night, it was alot on their minds.
Fathers would work on the W.P.A. just to make ends meet,
Breaking stones was very hard work, some of them fell to their feet.
The depression of the 1930's there were problems about work, severe
winters and war,
People never know from day to day what may be in store,
There were children of all ages, sick with an illness,
Some of them passed away with the long nights of stillness.
The depression of the 1930's made it bad for all ages,
Work was scare, there was pay of low wages.
During the depression, we all learned how to survive,
A lot of people shared the hardships by showing love and being alive.
The depression of the 1930's will be in my heart for the rest of my life,
I, Margaret L. Hockenberry, now Margaret l. Rodkey lived in those hardships
of struggle and strife
My parents were loving and caring in every way,
They taught me to respect people and show them we care.
poem by Margaret Rodkey
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I Don't Write Because I Can
I don’t write because I can
I don’t write because I’m told to
I write because when the day is done
I know it’s a friend I can turn to
It’s a friend who always laughs
And it’s a friend who will always care
And better yet I’ll always know
It’s a friend who will always be there
We’ve together faced rough times
and eventually older I grew
But when I get a pen and paper
we both feel as good as new
So I don’t write because I can
and I don’t write because I’m told to
I write because when I’m lost and alone
I know an old friend will help me though
poem by Lauren Saari
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At last is Hector stretch'd upon the plain,
Who fear'd no vengeance for Patroclus slain
You should have fear'd, what now you feel
Achilles absent was Achilles still
Yet a short space the great avenger stayed,
Then low in dust thy strength and glory laid.
Hymn 165
Unfruitfulness, ignorance, and unsanctified affections.
Long have I sat beneath the sound
Of thy salvation, Lord;
But still how weak my faith is found,
And knowledge of thy word!
Oft I frequent thy holy place,
And hear almost in vain;
How small a portion of thy grace
My memory can retain!
[My dear Almighty, and my God,
How little art thou known
By all the judgments of thy rod,
And blessings of thy throne!]
How cold and feeble is my love!
How negligent my fear!
How low my hope of joys above!
How few affections there!
Great God! thy sovereign power impart
To give thy word success;
Write thy salvation in my heart,
And make me learn thy grace.
[Show my forgetful feet the way
That leads to joys on high;
There knowledge grows without decay,
And love shall never die.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing The style of writing
Write long but not to be lengthy.
Write short but not to be ambiguous
How you write highlights what you write.
Write and keep in mind for whom.
04.02.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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We Sing Our Love In Life Worships
'hope always to write more
not to be a good poet'
the words of my friend
Hosny Soliman defined
my thoughts perfectly
to write just a little more
to gift just a little more
to give just a little more
with no thought wasted
upon desire to write
a good poem a great poem
poetic thoughts passed
through me part of mind
song whale song sung
through huge oceans
throughout this world
through water world
oceans are like God’s tears
cried through love of us
love creations slaughtered
as you hunt us down kill us
delight in seas red harvest blood
feast upon our sacrifice flesh
until then we sing mind songs
in love life swimming oceans
in light near surface or darkness
found in pressure ocean depths
all is same one in love life waters
we sing our love in life worships
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I would advise you to write, my dear friend, because with your active nature, solitude is simply intolerable to you, and after some time your solitude would become perhaps attractive if you were to people it with creatures of your own fancy.
quote by Wilfrid Laurier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All I Can Do Now Is Write Another Poem
All I can do now is write another poem-
The poems are small,
And do not require the long hours and long years
Of the books-
Like the world as a whole
I seem to have a shorter attention span
And less patience-
A poem can be written and given a name
In minutes not years-
Though some would say a great poem
Takes the travail of years of waiting
And years of work-
But I did not say
‘All I can do now is write another great poem'
Perhaps I have in all the years of the nights never written one-
I can write the poems I write
My kinds of poems
In a fairly short time-
All I can do now
Is write another of my kind of poems-
Whether they be worth anything,
Or not.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why Underestimate Us
Why undestimate short people
they are not dull but simple
short or tall we will all have a pimple
although we wont have dimple
in different socities you call us different names'
although we all we play the same games
we all receive all the blames
we dont burn in flames
although we are short we are so good
we even grow your food
then you will start to reject us so soon
even though we will meet in the afternoon
poem by Tanaka Chirombo
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Not Understood By Anyone
Neutral, frothy, flowering, flowering
I'm neutral, I'm clear, I'm beautiful
The atmosphere in the color of the morning, fresh and free
Neutral, I want to be like the cool water!
Give me give a ray of your light
Necklace of time hanging around my neck
Looked up at me was still a friend.
Neutral, shining like the sun
I'm running short on time where?
I was neutral and was crying.
My friends who do not understand all gone
Alone in the solitude in a natural death
Glasses of the future of stem occupies my nose
Screams in silence, and hatred, I still
No theme, continues to leave me alone.
Screams in the storm, the color.
I can not enjoy it, I can not cope
Mother!
Who made me like this
No one helped me.
But I like to help
Will I hunt down time
I will make love with my loneliness
Loneliness is always with me and are familiar with
Here, I choose my destiny
Solitude will change but he is a true
Loneliness is a vanity that I can not understand
No one can touch me
Except, I choose solitude friend also
I can't play in the dark
I was scared of the dark I ran away
Break through reality, I entered the illusion again
For example, the face was turned to tears
How old is humanity, what about the story
I hope I meet everything in a neutral and friendly
With solitude, loneliness and eternity
For example, if this sort of entertainment for me
My best friend why did you all go.
Why do not you love me as solitude
Impartiality and the eternal.
poem by Irvan Hermawan Saichu
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David’s Child
IN face of a great sorrow like to death
How do we wrestle night and day with tears;
How do we fast and pray; how small appears
The outside world, while, hanging on some breath
Of fragile hope, the chamber where we lie
Includes all space.--But if sudden at last
The blow falls; or by incredulity
Fond led, we--never having one thought cast
Towards years where 'the child' was not--see it die,
And with it all our future, all our past,--
We just look round us with a dull surprise:
For lesser pangs we had filled earth with cries
Of wild and angry grief that would be heard:--
But when the heart is broken--not a word.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Fear Not, Dear Friend, But Freely Live Your Days
FEAR not, dear friend, but freely live your days
Though lesser lives should suffer. Such am I,
A lesser life, that what is his of sky
Gladly would give for you, and what of praise.
Step, without trouble, down the sunlit ways.
We that have touched your raiment, are made whole
From all the selfish cankers of man's soul,
And we would see you happy, dear, or die.
Therefore be brave, and therefore, dear, be free;
Try all things resolutely, till the best,
Out of all lesser betters, you shall find;
And we, who have learned greatness from you, we,
Your lovers, with a still, contented mind,
See you well anchored in some port of rest.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Farewell To The Non-Thinkers
Farewell to the lesser people,
They fist their hands instead,
Ready to punch the heart,
Eager to fight the learned,
Wishing the redness of their blood
Was brighter and sweeter.
Their beautiful and comforting smiles are less,
Since it hides the inner ability to think,
Inside it is awkward and right,
Loving and polite,
Instead the freedom is theirs,
But mine for the moment.
Then I see lesser men do smaller tricks,
Like an animal with fur, and not just skin,
I see further and I want more to awake in the mind,
Just like the elephant in its size,
Like a buzz and a swift flight
Into the midwinter when it is safe from the sun.
Much is littler than me when I think.
My thinking has compelled me to enjoy
But no lesser man is me.
poem by Naveed Akram
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