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Favourite poems and ouotes


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Mine are:

--All the suttle flavours of my life, I become bitter seeds and poisioned, leaves without you, you represent whats true. (also my signature)

--Dont be afraid of shadows, it means only light nearby

--When you're in love you never really know whether your elation comes from the qualities of the one you love, or if it attributes them to her; whether the light which surrounds her like a halo comes from you, from her, or from the meeting of your sparks.

--Love is all we have, the only way that each can help the other.

--Love is an act of endless forgiveness, a tender look which becomes a habit

--Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. Sometimes age just shows up all by itself.

-- Every person is a damn fool for at least five minutes every day; wisdom consists in not exceeding the limit.

(reminds me of muzik tyme)

--Without music, life would be a mistake.

and finally

Vaporescent tears of memories

Cruoric perspiration leaves

Suppurate external masterpieces of my mind

Rape the inner distribution

Of a simplistic solution

Subcutaneous profusion of a pain that drove me blind

One of my faves which was beautifully written by Bobo

anyone got any more? ::

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That was part of a song I wrote, which I could give to you in a couple minutes sometime.. obviously I couldn't bundle in the whole song, as it was too many characters..

But as a quote, I feel it does my life justice. In its way.

Love and mercy.

Vaporescent tears of memories

Cruoric perspiration leaves

Suppurate external masterpieces of my mind

Rape the inner distribution

Of a simplistic solution

Subcutaneous profusion of a pain that drove me blind

anyone got any more? ::

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The most simple of songs, and even simpler chorus but it brings tears to my eyes everytime I hear it

Something in the way mmmmmm something in the way yeah mmmmmmmmm

-Nirvana-(There's just something about it, anyone who hasn't heard the song "Something in the Way" should go find a copy of "Nevermind" right now and pop it in, beautiful :puppyeyes:)

I love poetry myself, I'll read some Whitman, a little E.B. White, but what I really go for is rock poetry (you know poetry by rock stars) like Jim Morrison and John Lennon's stuff (and of course Kurt Cobain's poetry ::)

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Yeah, I've always thought that About a Girl has a great throwback sound to it, probably because Cobain had been listening to The Beatles non-stop at the time that he wrote it, (wow this is great, it's an actual conversation about Nirvana that doesn't revolve around wether or not they suck/sold out :laughing:)

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I know, I absoultly love them! Ya know the song Rape me? yes well my bro says that its about that girl polly and that its her response to the rapist, but my friend says its about Kurt being "raped" by managers, record companies to get money, do you know? ::

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A couple of my favourite quotes are by Sir Isaac Newton.

"To myself I seem to have been only a boy playing on the seashore, and diverting myself in now and then finding a smoother pebble or a prettier shell than ordinary, while the great ocean of truth lay all undiscovered before me."


"If I have seen farther than others, it is because I was standing on the shoulders of giants."

The second quote is the source for the inscription on the UK's two pound coin which reads "Standing on the Shoulders of Giants". [Please correct me if I am wrong. It seems that a few years ago there were two possible sources for the inscription, and but now every site on the net tends to point to Sir Isaac Newtwon's quote.]

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I've always been fond of the works of e.e. cummings. This is one of my favorites.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:

in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,

or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me

though i have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and

my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,

as when the heart of this flower imagines

the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals

the power of your intense fragility:whose texture

compels me with the color of its countries,

rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens;only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

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I've also grown up reading Robert W. Service.

For your enjoyment....


A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;

The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;

Back at the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,

And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.

When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,

There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog dirty, and loaded for bear.

He looked like a man with a foot in the grave, and scarcely the strength of a louse,

Yet he tilted a poke of dust on the bar, and he called for drinks on the house.

There was none could place the stranger's face, though we searched ourselves for a clue;

But we drank his health, and the last to drink was Dangerous Dan McGrew.

There's men that somehow just grip your eyes, and hold them hard like a spell;

And such was he, and he looked to me like a man who had lived in hell;

With a face most hair, and the dreary stare of a dog whose day is done,

As he watered the green stuff in his glass, and the drops fell one by one.

Then I got to figgering who he was, and wondering what he'd do,

And I turned my head -- and there watching him was the lady that's known as Lou.

His eyes went rubbering round the room, and he seemed in a kind of daze,

Till at last that old piano fell in the way of his wondering gaze.

The rag-time kid was having a drink; there was no one else on the stool,

So the stranger stumbles across the room, and flops down there like a fool.

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;

Then he clutched the keys with his talon hands -- my God! but that man could play!

Were you ever out in the great alone, when the moon was awful clear,

And the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear;

With only the howl of a timber wolf, and you camped there in the cold,

A half-dead thing in the stark, dead world, clean mad for the muck called gold;

While high overhead, green, yellow and red, the North Lights swept in bars --

Then you've got a hunch what the music meant ... hunger and night and the stars.

And hunger not of the belly kind, that's banished with bacon and beans;

But the gnawing hunger of lonely men for a home and all that it means;

For a fireside far from the cares that are, four walls and a roof above;

But oh! so cramful of cosy joy, and crowned with a woman's love;

A woman dearer than all the world, and true as Heaven is true --

(God! how ghastly she looks through her rouge, -- the lady that's known as Lou.)

Then all of a sudden the music changed, so soft that you scarce could hear;

But you felt that your life had been looted clean of all that it once held dear;

That someone had stolen the woman you loved; that her love was a devil's lie;

That your guts were gone, and the best of you was to crawl away and die. 'Twas the crowning cry of a heart's despair, and it thrilled you through and through --

"I guess I'll make it a spread misere," said Dangerous Dan McGrew.

The music almost died away ... then it burst like a pent-up flood;

And it seemed to say, "Repay, repay," and my eyes were blind with blood.

The thought came back of an ancient wrong, and it stung like a frozen lash,

And the lust awoke to kill, to kill ... then the music stopped with a crash,

And the stranger turned, and his eyes they burned in a most peculiar way;

In a buckskin shirt that was glazed with dirt he sat, and I saw him sway;

Then his lips went in in a kind of a grin, and he spoke, and his voice was calm;

And, "Boys," says he, "you don't know me, and none of you care a damn;

But I want to state, and my words are straight, and I'll bet my poke they're true,

That one of you is a hound of hell ... and that one is Dan McGrew."

Then I ducked my head, and the lights went out, and two guns blazed in the dark;

And a woman screamed, and the lights went up, and two men lay stiff and stark;

Pitched on his head, and pumped full of lead, was Dangerous Dan McGrew,

While the man from the creeks lay clutched to the breast of the Lady that's known as Lou.

These are the simple facts of the case, and I guess I ought to know;

They say that the stranger was crazed with "hooch," and I'm not denying it's so.

I'm not so wise as the lawyer guys, but strictly between us two --

The woman that kissed him -- and pinched his poke -- was the lady that's known as Lou.

By Robert Wm. Service (1874-1958).

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This poem seems to fit me perfectly:

Memorizin' Mo

Mo memorized the dictionary,

but can't find a job

or any one who wants to marry

someone who memorized the dictionary!

~Shel Silverstein~

I have many favorite quotes. A few are:


I'm not lying. I'm writing fiction with my mouth.

~Homer Simpson~

I used to be temporarily insane. Now I'm just stupid.


I told you never trust a monkey!

~Brak's Mom~

Let's have some shiny fun today!

~Brak's Dad~

Of all the Charlie Brown's in the world, you're the Charlie Browniest

What if the Hokey Pokey really is all it's about?

Rock journalism is people who can't write interviewing people who can't talk for people who can't read.

~Frank Zappa~


I have always imagined paradise will be a kind of library.

~Jorge Luis Borges~

Let's not look for things. Let's find them.


How can you see when your imagination is out of focus?

~Mark Twain~

It's never too late to be what you might have been.

~George Elliot~

I am large. I contain multitudes.

~Walt Whitman~

The usefulness of a bowl is in its emptiness.

A room without books is like a body without a soul.


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There are so many instances of wonderful Frank Zappa quotes to be gleaned from a dedicated site which I frequently visit.

Interviewer: "So, Frank, you have long hair. Does that make you a woman?"

Frank Zappa: "You have a wooden leg, Sir. Does that make you a table?"

When asked why he gave his children names like Moon Unit, Dweezle and Diva, he responded to a reporter who asked of him the reasoning behind his children's names:

"Consider for a moment any beauty in the name Ralph."

Judgement shall not be passed!

Love and mercy


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"The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost is my favorite poem. I feel like it sums up my life and how I got to this point. At 18, I never would have imagined I would be where I am right now at 35. Although I never made the "conventional" choices in my life, I know I am happier now than I would have been "doing the right thing". I've always said I had to go halfway across the country to find myself. And that has made all the difference...

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

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This is an epitaph from an old grave in the town next to mine. I thought it was very clever.

"Patrick Tully is my name

Ireland was my nation,

Bialla is my resting place

May heaven be my eternal habitation.

Beware you man, as you walk by,

As you are now so once was I.

As I am now, soon you will be

Prepare yourself to follow me"

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I love writings as these:

There was never a time when I did not exist, nor you...nor will we ever cease to exist in the future.

Conquer thine enemies and enjoy prospered kingship.

By me myself they have already been slain long ago.

Be thou the mere instrument.

-The Bhagavad Gita (the song of God)

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I also like this, its a song

We come one

All the subtle flavours of my life have become

Bitter seeds and poisioned leaves without you

You represent what's true

I drain the colour from the sky

And turn blue without you

These arms like a purpose

flapping like a humming bird

I'm nervous cuts

I'm the left eye, you're the right

Would it not be madness to fight?

We come one

In you the song which rights my wrongs

In you the fullness of living

The power to begin again

From right now

In you, in you, in you...

We come one

We come one

We come one

I'm unafraid

Never never scared

You always watched, pressed air

I'm the left eye, you're the right

Would it not be madness to fight?

We come one

We come one

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  • 2 weeks later...

Hey Katie, the last 4 lines of that epitaph are, with the exception of the phrase "beware you man", included in the song "Mary Jane" by thrash metal band Megadeth, which is apparently about a child killed by her father for being involved in witchcraft. In the Megadeth song, the lyrics noted above are adapted to "beware my friend", but the rest is word-for-word. Anyone know if this is part of an older composition, or maybe Mustaine & Ellefson have visited the same graveyard??

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The Conqueror Worm E.A. Poe 1843

Lo! 'tis a gala night

Within the lonesome latter years!

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears,

Sit in a theatre, to see

A play of hopes and fears,

While the orchestra breathes fitfully

The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,

Mutter and mumble low,

And hither and thither fly-

Mere puppets they, who come and go

At bidding of vast formless things

That shift the scenery to and fro,

Flapping from out their Condor wings

Invisible Woe!

That motley drama- oh, be sure

It shall not be forgot!

With its Phantom chased for evermore,

By a crowd that seize it not,

Through a circle that ever returneth in

To the self-same spot,

And much of Madness, and more of Sin,

And Horror the soul of the plot.

But see, amid the mimic rout

A crawling shape intrude!

A blood-red thing that writhes from out

The scenic solitude!

It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs

The mimes become its food,

And seraphs sob at vermin fangs

In human gore imbued.

Out- out are the lights- out all!

And, over each quivering form,

The curtain, a funeral pall,

Comes down with the rush of a storm,

While the angels, all pallid and wan,

Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"

And its hero the Conqueror Worm.

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A few of mine are:

Her voice is like clear water

That drips upon a stone

In forests far and silent

Where Quiet plays alone.

Her thoughts are like the lotus

Abloom by sacred streams

Beneath the temple arches

Where Quiet sits and dreams.

Her kisses are the roses

That glow while dusk is deep

In Persian garden closes

Where Quiet falls asleep.

Sara Teasdale

It's not easy being green.

- Kermit the Frog

Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand

- Plato

The kiss originated when the first male reptile licked the first female reptile, implying in a subtle, complimentary way that she was as succulent as the small reptile he'd had for dinner the night before.

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

The sin was mine; I did not understand.

So now is music prisoned in her cave,

Save where some ebbing desultory wave

Frets with its restless whirls this meagre strand.

And in the withered hollow of this land

Hath Summer dug herself so deep a grave,

That hardly can the leaden willow crave

One silver blossom from keen Winter's hand.

But who is this who cometh by the shore?

(Nay, love, look up and wonder!) Who is this

Who cometh in dyed garments from the South?

It is thy new-found Lord, and he shall kiss

The yet unravished roses of thy mouth,

And I shall weep and worship, as before.

Oscar Wilde

The universe would be incomplete without man;

but it would also be incomplete without the smallest transmicroscopic creature

that dwells beyond our conceitful eyes and knowledge.

John Muir

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  • 2 weeks later...

I don't care to belong to a club that accepts people like me as a member. ~ Groucho Marx

I generally avoid temptation unless I can't resist it. ~ Mae West

If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bull. ~ W.C. Fields

The first thing I do in the morning is brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue. ~ Dorothy Parker

I love these acerbic one-liners.

Dorothy Parker was a wizard of quick-witted repartee and curmudgeonly commentary (" This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.").

Find her famous "honeymoon" postcard.

I remember hearing this exchange (probably staged) between Mae West and a reporter.

Q: Miss West, How do you keep your youth?

A: I give him a hundred a week.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Mark Twain had a lot of good quotes. Unfortunately, he stole them from a lot of people, but I guess he made them well known, and easy to locate nowadays. (just type Mark Twain quotes into a search engine). One of my favorites: "Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please." Also, "Pretend you're a congressman. Now pretend you're an idiot. But I repeat myself.."

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