Quotes about slate
My Slate Is Clean of Miseries
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
And if I do have any enemies...
May they live an afterlife,
In a realm that's more acceptible.
I've wiped my slate clean of those miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've sliced and diced all that away from me.
And I wont slit my wrists...
To bleed in dripping pity!
There is a happiness in me increased.
With a peace of mind I own,
Straight from sorrows I'd adopted.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My first day in school
More than half a century ago,
the Monsoon showers had just brought relief from the sweltering summer,
just when I was dreaming of playing soccer whole day outdoors,
My Dad decided that I have to attend an elementary school.
I was dragged a mile by my older brother to my new school,
It would be my favorite Durga Temple converted into a school,
My dreams of a class with benches and chairs just vanished,
As we were sitting on the floor in open partitioned classrooms of the school.
I thought I would get a nice colorful uniform to wear to school,
but it looked like that the dress code was a futuristic dream,
At least every class had a black board bigger than my slate,
the teacher had a duster whereas I had to wipe the chalk with my hand.
The fear of some burly kids and nostalgia of home made me sad and homesick,
I could not stop crying and asking my teacher to let me go home.
I still remember the teacher with big black cane,
every time I cried to go home, I got a whack on my palm with his cane,
[...] Read more
poem by Jay P Narain
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Malmaison
I
How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there,
beyond the high wall! How quietly the Seine runs in loops and windings,
over there, over there, sliding through the green countryside! Like ships
of the line, stately with canvas, the tall clouds pass along the sky,
over the glittering roof, over the trees, over the looped and curving river.
A breeze quivers through the linden-trees. Roses bloom at Malmaison.
Roses! Roses! But the road is dusty. Already the Citoyenne Beauharnais
wearies of her walk. Her skin is chalked and powdered with dust,
she smells dust, and behind the wall are roses! Roses with
smooth open petals, poised above rippling leaves . . . Roses . . .
They have told her so. The Citoyenne Beauharnais shrugs her shoulders
and makes a little face. She must mend her pace if she would be back
in time for dinner. Roses indeed! The guillotine more likely.
The tiered clouds float over Malmaison, and the slate roof sparkles
in the sun.
[...] Read more
poem by Amy Lowell
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On The Shore
One child on the shore
With a stick on his hands
Writes on the sands
Some drawings
Playful
A wave comes and slides
On the shore
The drawings are gone
And a new slate is given
By the water that runs
That advances to him
And later surrenders to itself
Another young man
Draws a heart on the sand
Swearing a love eternal
All encompassing
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Warning to Children
Children, if you dare to think
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Graves
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A Ballad Of Nursery Rhyme
Strawberries that in gardens grow
Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
Spring from the woodland vine.
No need for bowl or silver spoon,
Sugar or spice or cream,
Has the wild berry plucked in June
Beside the trickling stream.
One such to melt at the tongue's root,
Confounding taste with scent,
Beats a full peck of garden fruit:
Which points my argument.
May sudden justice overtake
And snap the froward pen,
That old and palsied poets shake
Against the minds of men;
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Graves
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Ryan's Journey
There cannot be something bigger than me.
My body and mind it would say.
The things I see and the things I hear.
They must be the only way.
For years I truly believed this.
And then one day I did fall.
The things that I thought were the truth and were right.
It wasn’t the truth at all.
I then set out on a journey.
To places that I’d never known.
It was a journey to go in my mind and my heart.
And to soften my heart made of stone.
I was given a book and some angels.
To lead me on my new quest.
My old journey it brought the worst out of me.
I hoped this new one could bring out the best.
[...] Read more
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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This Grudge
14 years
30 minutes
15 seconds
I've held this grudge
11 songs
4 full journals
thoughts of punishment I've expended
not in contact, not a letter
such communication, telepathic
you've been vilified
used as fodder
you deserve a piece of every record
but who's it hurting now?
who's the one that's stuck?
who's it torturing now
with an antique knot in her stomach?
I wanna be big and let go
of this grudge that's grown old
all this time I've not known
how to rest this bygone
[...] Read more
song performed by Alanis Morissette
Added by Lucian Velea
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I think there is a difference between Slate and Salon. I think we both serve important functions on the Internet. As more and more Websites disappear, I'm thankful Slate is still around because it makes things less lonely.
quote by David Talbot
Added by Lucian Velea
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Empty Slate
A simple time,
that I remember,
when life was blank,
And I could write anything,
Become anyone and be anything,
with imagination and tales,
so strange,
life was simple with,
my clear and empty slate,
now my slate,
Cluttered and flaked,
leads my life,
Taking hold,
Instead of me,
choices made,
Stay in my heart,
and scar the future,
with the past.
poem by Rebecca Adams
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