- David Carradine

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

did-you-kno:

Lost Generation.

I’m a part of Lost Generation

and I refuse to believe that

I can change the world

I realize this may be a shock but

“Happiness comes from within”

is a lie, and

“Money will make me happy”

So in thirty years I’ll tell my children

They are not the most important thing in my life

My employer will know that

I have my priority straight because

Work

Is more important than

Family

I tell you this

Once upon a time

Families stay together

But this will not be true in my era

This is a quick fix society

Experts tell me

Thirty years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of my divorce

I do not concede that

I will live in a country of my own making

In the future

Environmental destruction will be the norm

No longer can it be said that

My peers and I care about this earth

It will be evident that

My generation is apathetic and lethargic

It is foolish to presume that

There is hope

And all of this will come true unless we reverse it.

Source

myinkstainedheart:

I was the child who cried wolf,
in the dead of the night
and aroused from sleep the folks.
But to say I lied, you cannot accuse me,
because in truth he stood before me, fiercely.
But my fatal fault, which admittedly I am guilty,
was I cried wolf after I had lured him to me.

poemsofthesoul:

     Your                           Where to start?        

         Starting                          There

              Point                    Really      Are

                    Makes         Is                     Many

                               No                            Pathways

                            Difference                     That

                            To                            Lead

                     Human                 Ultimately        To

                 Hearts                         To               Sad

                If                                   A                   Dead

             You                             Fantastic             Ends.

    Think       Are                          And

   About           Hopelessly          Soul-

      It                          In          Fulfilling

Logically,                           Love,

              Though                    And

                             I                     We

                   Feel         Will          Will

                   I’ve                  Never     Pretend

                 Known              Know          We

                    The                Them            Have

                     Best.               All.           Chosen

                                Today                      The

                           We         There                 Finest.

                         Are                  Simply          This

                          United                  Is             Is

                              By                      No      The

                           A                                Right

                    Beautiful                        Way

                       Heart-                   To

                        Felt              Read

                        Love         This

                                Poem,

                                       As

                                         There

                                               Is simply

                                           No wrong turn.

thisfoliage:

I’ve been told
that people in the army
do more by 7:00 am
than I do
in an entire day

but if I wake
at 6:59 am
and turn to you
to trace the outline of your lips
with mine
I will have done enough
and killed no one
in the process.

Shane Koyczan

fyeahenglishmajorarmadillo:

I did not create this, and I did not come up with this little poem.  My friends sent this to me, and I thought it was appropriate—in the English major sense—for this site.

Once upon a dim stage dreary, while I twirled, weak and weary

Under many quaint and curious gaze’s of voyeurs wanting more

While I spun round, nearly falling, suddenly there came a calling
…
the voice of which was quite appalling, appalling and it screamed out “WHORE”

Tis’ some drunkard, I muttered, screaming out the insult “WHORE”

Only this and nothing more.

poemandsong:

by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.


if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.