Vagueness: The Letter
I was angry
and high.
anger is always high.
-When I brake all my rules and standards.-
I wrote
a vague
letter
to Eileen,
i was vague,
my anger was vague,
as well as the words,
the comma, and the vague spacing between the dots.
I should be simple
in writing
all my letters to her.
the vagueness should be left to the ink.
poem by Atef Ayadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sehnsucht
Whence are ye, vague desires,
Which carry men along,
However proud and strong;
Which, having ruled to-day,
To-morrow pass away?
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
Which women, yielding to,
Find still so good and true;
So true, so good to-day,
To-morrow gone away.
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
From seats of bliss above,
Where angels sing of love;
From subtle airs around,
Or from the vulgar ground,
Whence are ye, vague desires?
Whence are ye?
A message from the blest,
Or bodily unrest;
A call to heavenly good,
A fever in the blood
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which men who know you best
Are proof against the least,
And rushing on to-day,
To-morrow cast away.
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which women, ever new,
Still warned, surrender to;
Adored with you to-day,
Then cast with you away,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which unto boyhood’s heart
The force of man impart,
And pass, and leave it cold,
And prematurely old,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Which, tremblingly confest,
Pour in the young girl’s breast
Joy, joy, the like is none,
And leave her then undone,
What are ye, vague desires?
What are ye?
Ah yet! though man be marred,
Ignoble made, and hard;
Though broken women lie
In anguish down to die;
Ah yet! ye vague desires,
Ah yet!
By Him who gave you birth,
And blended you with earth,
Was some good end designed
For man and womankind;
Ah yet! ye vague desires,
Ah yet!
The petals of to-day,
To-morrow fallen away,
Shall something leave instead,
To live when they are dead;
When you, ye vague desires,
Have vanished;
A something to survive,
Of you though it derive
Apparent earthly birth,
But of far other worth
Than you, ye vague desires,
Than you.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Electric Co.
Boy, stupid boy
Dont sit at the table
Until youre able to
Toy, broken toy
Shout shout
Youre inside out
If you dont know...electric co.
If you dont know...electric co.
Red, running red
Play for real
The toy could feel
A hole in your head
You go in shock
Youre spoon-fed
If you dont know...electric co.
If you dont know...electric co.
One two three four...
[vague words]
If you dont know...electric co.
[repeat 6 times]
(more vague words)
Just to hear me
(more vague words)
Ive found me way home
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lying Down
To the right, the sky, to the left, the sea.
And before your eyes, the grass and its flowers.
A cloud, the road, follows its vertical way
Parallel to the plumb line of the horizon,
Parallel to the rider.
The horse races towards its imminent fall
And the other climbs interminably.
How simple and strange everything is.
Lying on my left side
I take no interest in the landscape
And I think only of things that are very vague,
Very vague and very pleasant,
Like the tired look you walk around with
Through this beautiful summer afternoon
To the right, to the left,
Here, there,
In the delirium of uselessness.
poem by Robert Desnos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If we ask a vague question, such as, 'What is poetry?' we expect a vague answer, such as, 'Poetry is the music of words,' or 'Poetry is the linguistic correction of disorder.'
quote by A.R. Ammons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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People watch movies - and it's vague ideas, it's vague notions, but people pick up on these things, that they are supposed to think certain ways or that they're not supposed to think, basically, and they don't.
quote by Crispin Glover
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Vague
Chemicals keep me under control (Repeat 4x)
Sleeping at the wheel. I cant feel my face.
Maybe its better this way.
My stomachs twisted, all tied up in knots.
And Im feeling like I dont want this.
Killing time as the clock goes tick tock, tick tock.
Theyll never keep you away from me.
I know where youll be tomorrow.
What difference does it make to you?
I dont care, aint got the time.
Winning the race for another line.
Its written in my mind.
Just to get it all away from me.
Away from me.
Cause I think Im falling.
[ Segment 1 ]
Cause I think Im falling.
Falling out of touch with life.
And Im thinking its all just a big mistake.
I think Im falling.
Falling, out of touch with life.
So what have I been telling myself?
[ Chorus ]
Must be the rage deep down inside of me.
Eating me away. Eating me away.
Feelings are so vague, so wrong.
So what have I been telling myself?
So Ive been chosen to be the victim of your misery.
Thats right Im frozen. Chemicals keep me under control.
So cold from all the ice and amphetamines.
That I just might make you think that Jesus was your middle name.
As though it seems to be an act of God.
But for now go ahead and believe what you want to believe.
Cause I think Im falling.
[ Repeat Segment 1 ]
[ Repeat Chorus ]
Myself. (Repeat 8x)
You know what kills me?
Chemicals keep me under control. (Repeat 15x)
Why is everybody hooked on...
When you feel so desperate you got your grip on me.
I take away all the trust and all the sympathy.
Why is everybody hooked on everybody else.
Ill guess Ill never understand it.
Come and fill your head with lies.
No I cant explain.
Why everyone seems so vague.
[ Repeat Chorus ]
Feelings are so vague.
So what have I been telling myself?
[ Repeat Chorus ]
Deep inside its eating me away.
Feelings are so vague. Feelings are so vague.
song performed by by Orgy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The characters are that vague TV high school age, but they'll be in high school as long as we need them to be.
quote by Josh Schwartz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Confetti In The Wind
He wrote a letter in his mind
To answer one a maid had sent;
He sought the fitting word to find,
As on by hill and rill he went.
By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane,
The cadence sweet and silken phrase
He incubated in his brain
For days and days.
He wrote his letter on a page
Of paper with a satin grain;
It did not ring, so in a rage
He tore it up and tried again.
Time after time he drafted it;
He polished it all through the night;
He tuned and pruned till bit by bit
He got it right.
He took his letter to the post,
Yet long he held it in his hand.
Strangely his mood had veered, almost
Reversed,--he could not understand.
The girl was vague, the words were vain;
April romance had come to grief . . .
He tore his letter up again,--
Oh blest relief!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vague Expressions
Vague expressions of directed hatred,
To generate a protest...
By those encouraging the spreading of distress,
Has those who began this agitation quite upset...
Confused and much bewildered.
If those accused are not connected,
To the theft of their possessions...
Why have they been whipped into a frenzy,
Exposing their vague expressions...
Of directed hatred.
Is this just to generate a protest...
Against those who are themselves,
Historically disconnected from their own destinies,
They have not been allowed to protect!
Leaving many to see the culprit not previously suspect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So I was in America and I thought I'll stick around while I'm here and just see what happens. The next film I did was High Art, so I guess it started with a sort of vague idea but really just a fantasy.
quote by Radha Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picking It Up
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up...
Like that does not ensure,
Self assurance to occur.
It is a strategy that one should seek.
With satisfaction first examined.
To make sure that one increases harmony!
With a proactive way,
Of life to live.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
It is the heat that one releases.
When nothing satisfies to analyzing eyes...
Only seeing with a vision that's fixed.
As if in a tunnel,
To rip through quick.
It's not a riddle when one plays it second fiddle,
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
With proactive actions to prevent blurs.
And...
Don't be vague!
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Proactive actions do prevent blurs.
Don't be vague.
Proactive actions do prevent,
The making of excuses.
Oh...
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
From the middle can be critical.
Picking it up.
Picking it up.
Picking it up,
One should think of self assurance that endures.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For the novels I wrote before selling anything, I didn't outline much. I had a vague idea of the story.
quote by George Stephen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Vague Image Of Life
a vague image of life
against a shade
of daylight
outlines of motions
of arms
and hands
and naked
bodies
bathing in the river
a leap
of desire
certainly like a frog
from my belly
like some
butterflies
wanting to come
out from
my chest
like some
bees
hiding in the hive
of my mouth
wanting to swarm
to the trees
of life
to the nectar
of flowers
life wants to shine
for us to see
what life really is:
desire, ambition,
passion, love,
hope, faith
come to think of
it
what is vague
is actually
death always
lurking
in some
dark corners
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anger buried deep inside me
My anger is angry.
Its pain.
Its frustration.
Its irritation.
My anger is angry.
My anger is confusion.
My anger is past, present and future.
My anger's disappointment.
My anger builds
up and explodes
like thunder on
a stormy day.
Its fiery red.
Its envy.
Its greed.
Its temptation.
My anger's TOO angry.
Won't you please help me stop?
I'm a blazing volcano
that's ready to pop.
poem by Ricky Baker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Anger is Angry
My anger is angry.
Its pain.
Its frustration.
Its irritation.
My anger is angry.
My anger is confusion.
My anger is past, present and future.
My anger's disappointment.
My anger builds
up and explodes
like thunder on
a stormy day.
Its fiery red.
Its envy.
Its greed.
Its temptation.
My anger's TOO angry.
Won't you please help me stop?
I'm a blazing volcano
that's ready to pop.
age 13 going on 14
poem by LuRyza Penn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Angry, so Sad
Anger is a form of fear
Anger is a force that can never die
Anger building up
Anger is a virus
Anger is a like vicious circle it goes,
around and around
Anger,
The root of all evil
Anger is such a strong emotion
So angry,
So sad
Anger is bubbling away at me
I have good reason to be angry
No one understand,
No one cares
It tears out my heart
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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And So I'm Writing...
I'm hard-pressed for time,
yet I do have the heart
And so I'm writing
Know not what to pen down,
have a paper to write on
And so I'm writing
May be I'll write about 'you and me'
Or may be of 'us and them'
Feel like playing with words
And so I'm writing
May be that starving beggar's hungry looks
Or that homeless Child's beckoning eyes
Are making me scribble these lines to you
And so I'm writing
May be you'll find my words vague
Or you might decipher a meaning
Intend to leave you in the oblivion
And so I'm writing
Whatever might be the impression I create
Wish to see its reflection on your soul
And leave an imprint on your mind
And so I'm writing
May be you and I've become immune
To the pathos of mankind
Or may be there's still
A dropp of humanity flowing deep within us
Wish to arouse 'The Human Being' in you
And so I'm writing...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry (Poesia) by Pablo Neruda (Translated by Edwin Tanguma)
And it was at that age…Poetry arrived
Looking for me. I don’t know, I don’t know from where
It came, from the river or summer
I don’t know how nor when,
No, it wasn’t voices, it wasn’t
Words, nor silence
But from a street it called to me,
From the branches of the night,
Rapidly between the others,
Between violent bouts
Or returning alone,
It was there without countenance
And it touched me.
I didn’t know what to say, my mouth
Didn’t know
How to name,
My eyes were blind,
And something was pounding at my soul,
Lost wings or fever,
And I went on alone doing,
Trying to make sense
Of that burning feeling,
And I wrote my first vague line,
Vague, without body, pure
Foolishness,
Pure knowledge
From the one who knew nothing,
And I saw quickly
The sky
Disintegrated
And open,
Planets,
Pulsars,
The perforated shade,
Tormented
By arrows, fire and flowers,
The overwhelming night, the universe.
And I, infinitesimal,
Intoxicated by the vastness
Starry eyed,
Similarly, the image
Of the mystery
I felt I was a pure part
Of the abyss
I rode the stars
My heart unraveled in the breeze
poem by Edwin Tanguma
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When I have an idea, it goes from vague, cloudy notion to 100,000 words in a heartbeat.
quote by Lynn Abbey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Usually it is uses of words, not words in themselves, that are properly called vague.
quote by J.L. Austin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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