We should realize in a vivid and revolutionary sense that we are not in our bodies but our bodies are in us.
quote by Ruth St. Denis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Extasie
Sat we two, one another best,
Bodies were left; souls rose and met.
They transacted their love at best.
Struck by the sight of their bodies,
Motionless, the souls asked themselves:
‘Our bodies why so we forbear?
They are ours, though they are not we.’
We are flames and they are matter.
‘We owe them thanks because they thus
did us, to us, a first convoy
yielded their forces, senses to us.’
The souls returned to their bodies,
And declared in solemnity:
“To feel love, we live in bodies.”
29.10.2008
[ Based on the poem with the same title, written by the famous love poet John Donne 1572-1631]
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Busy Bodies
So you think that you have seen her
When youre lying in between her
And you tell me that you dont care
Busy bodies getting nowhere
Evrybodys getting meaner
Busy bodies
Caught in the concertina
You check her outline
Break her regulations
You watch her legs through several
Service stations
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youre ready for the merger
With the company youre part of
And you do the dirty business
With your latest sleeping partner
Youre becoming
Automatic
Busy bodies
Out playing with the traffic
You want attention
You try my patience
With the best intentions you are nothing but a nuisance
Busy bodies
Busy busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youve given your performance
Though the matinee was idle
And you find that a wave of her right hand
Could seem so tidal
Just a second
Satisfaction
Busy bodies
Temporarily out of action
You wash and brush up
You want to dress up
You want to kiss her
But shes busy with her makeup
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere (x6)
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The great city can teach something that no university by itself can altogether impart: a vivid sense of the largeness of human brotherhood, a vivid sense of man's increasing obligation to man; a vivid sense of our absolute dependence on one another.
Body Architects
i'm starting from scratch
i'm putting the pieces together
day by day.. one by one.. i'm the only one
my surroundings affect the structure.. of my state of mind
just when you think everything is fine
the foundation cracks... in a fraction of time
so look in the mirror.. it doesn't lie
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
i skipped the school of the learned for the... majority
but i figured it out the hard way.. my own way.. the only way
and it made me stronger... bigger than the rest
i'm the architect that knows my body best
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we rock the party that rocks the body!!
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
we... we all forget
that we're the architects of the bodies we inhabit
song performed by by Tommy Lee from Never A Dull Moment
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Robes and Bodies
Kings, juries or priests are known by their robes.
Robes, not their bodies, demand attentions.
Souls are known by bodies they occupy.
Bodies shade souls as robes shade bodies.
(15.05.2011)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Breaking Free
The heat begins as the movement starts,
Two bodies, two hearts,
One place, one dream,
The sweat becoming a steady stream.
One against the other skin pressed,
Their bodies together, both undressed,
Together they move, together they feel,
Both wondering how this feeling could be so real.
They lay together fingers raoming, tracing,
Bodies steady, minds racing,
Bothe wanting, both longing.
The feelings so vivid, the so taunting.
Lips roam over features, memorizing turns, dips, taste.
Bodies tangled together, hands laced,
Breathing so uneaven, yet so right.
Together they stay, through the long night.
Moans break through the air,
Into eachither they melt, into their eyes they stair,
Both so lost, yet forever lost in one place,
Skin together as one, as hearts race.
The bodies meet and one enters the other,
Both in pain, both in longng for the other,
Both wanting more, bothe lost in their dream,
as they melt together soft as cream.
Their eyes flash bright and open,
Both hoping, both wanting to feel it again,
Together they smile, love is all they now see,
Their eyes close, their hearts slow, they break free.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Auto Modown
Auto modown
Down in youngstown
Bodies in the street
Auto mowdown
Noon in downtown
Bodies with no feet
Auto mowdown
Down in youngstown
Bodies got deblues
Auto mowdown
Noon in downtown
Bodies with no shoes
An acidhead goon in a 55 dodge
Didnt mean to do it
But a sidewalk run in the noonday sun
Ten to one he had to lose it
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Which Disease You Suffer From?
Those who are having an obsession
to make their bodies thin suffer
from, 'Anorexia Nervosa'.
Those who are having an obsession
to make their bodies muscular suffer
from, 'Bigorexia Nervosa'.
Those who are having an obsession
to make their bodies perfect
suffer from, 'Athletica Nervosa'.
Those who are preoccupied with an
imaginary defect of their body
suffer from, Body Dysmorphic Disorder”.
Those who love their bodies
while yelling, “To hell with the world”
suffer from, “Narcissistic Disorder”.
Those who refuse to take care
of bodies while shouting, ” To hell with it”
suffer from, 'Diogenes Syndrome'.
Hey! Buddy, Which disease you suffer from?
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
05/05/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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Model Clay Bodies
dawn fire moves
model clay bodies
bodies of breathing
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Following The Sickness
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
Fighting our own shadows, fooled by our enemies.
They are the ones you just can't see.
The unaccepted theory is rejected yet again.
But still the chorus plays.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
To whom it may concern.
A poetic letter, dressed in feathers.
Does it make it any prettier?
A distraction from the purpose.
Delivering the simplest of messages.
And still they are not heard.
Oh no they are never heard.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
And man is yet to learn.
And man is yet to learn.
Foolish know it alls.
A change in circumstances will cause a sudden fall.
A broken bone, or ego?
A laceration or a severed artery?
Is it serious or superficial?
An inflamation that just won't go down.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
And it has brought me here.
A million passersby's.
An angelic looking sky.
Prying the heavens for just one peek.
I wonder if it has what I seek.
A cure
A cure
For this world.
Follow the sickness.
As the bodies dropp the fire burns.
And man is yet to learn.
If you are ever lost just follow the sickness.
Its everywhere.
Just go from there.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The air is full of souls those who are nearest to earth descending to be tied to mortal bodies return to other bodies, desiring to live in them.
quote by Philo Judaeus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't think politicians should be allowed into power who are not familiar with their bodies, because that's where our bottom line is. And I know that they would make totally different decisions if they felt responsible simply for their own bodies.
quote by Twyla Tharp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Children Of Love...
sometimes it seems we travel
on long journeys as far away from
ourselves as we can....
before we can find the way
and the means to come home.
often, somewhere in the seasons
of our living, love is like that.
we become so numbed by the struggle
to merely exist, that we lose our
intimate connection....
we lose our sense of taste, of smell,
our very sense of touch...
and it is this loss, if we are lucky,
that redeems us, that strips us
and brings us back to the basic
instincts of our heart...
the storm comes, destroying
all the false images we've worshipped....
yet the rain washes our bodies,
the very bodies of our souls clean....
and only then, naked and vulnerable,
without any props... are we able again
to know love... to feel, to touch, to taste....
and again, through suffering, the candle is lit.
at our best, and our worst, naked...
we are the children of love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Our bodies are at once the receiving and transmitting stations for life itself. It is the highest wisdom to recognize this fact and train our bodies to render them sensitive and responsive to nature. art and religion.
quote by Ruth St. Denis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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August 17th
Surely I will be disquieted
by the hospital, that body zone-
bodies wrapped in elastic bands,
bodies cased in wood or used like telephones,
bodies crucified up onto their crutches,
bodies wearing rubber bags between their legs,
bodies vomiting up their juice like detergent, Here in this house
there are other bodies.
Whenever I see a six-year-old
swimming in our aqua pool
a voice inside me says what can't be told...
Ha, someday you'll be old and withered
and tubes will be in your nose
drinking up your dinner.
Someday you'll go backward. You'll close
up like a shoebox and you'll be cursed
as you push into death feet first.
Here in the hospital, I say,
that is not my body, not my body.
I am not here for the doctors
to read like a recipe.
No. I am a daisy girl
blowing in the wind like a piece of sun.
On ward 7 there are daisies, all butter and pearl
but beside a blind man who can only
eat up the petals and count to ten.
The nurses skip rope around him and shiver
as his eyes wiggle like mercury and then
they dance from patient to patient to patient
throwing up little paper medicine cups and playing
catch with vials of dope as they wait for new accidents.
Bodies made of synthetics. Bodies swaddled like dolls
whom I visit and cajole and all they do is hum
like computers doing up our taxes, dollar by dollar.
Each body is in its bunker. The surgeon applies his gum.
Each body is fitted quickly into its ice-cream pack
and then stitched up again for the long voyage
back.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Public Pervert
If time is my vessel, then learning to love might be my way back to sea
The flying, the metal, the turning above - these are just ways to be seen
We all get paid
Some get faith before they die
Then through the stars we will navigate
Through the holes in your eyes
How many days will it take to land?
How many ways to reach abandon?
Swoon, baby, starry nights
May our bodies remain
You move with me I'll treat you right, baby
May our bodies remain
There is love to be made
So, just stay here for this while
Perhaps heartstrings resuscitate
The fading sounds of your life
Swoon, baby, starry nights
May our bodies remain
As deep we move I'll feed you light, baby
May our bodies remain
In history I'll treat you right
I'm honest that way
song performed by by Interpol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Belinda
Death comes by man but,
Belinda is my lover so sweet;
In this life,
There are heavenly bodies and earthly bodies:
But, i will always remember Belinda.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Your Body the Chip
why? why bother embedding chips
onto the human bodies when the
bodies themselves are the most
foolproof chips? the aliens posed
to earthlings how to really put the world
under surveillance
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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All People Have A Breaking Point
all people have a breaking point
of mind or body fractured stressed
although some do know it not
bodies can break in random accidents
bodies can break in undue pressures
bodies can break in life misfortunes
poking other people with sticks poke poke
standing on deceit power base pedestals
believing themselves immune to fortune fall
did their mothers never teach manners
not to poke especially poke in the eye
sad it is to watch ego poke poke patterns
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The roadside bathers
The water of life streamed
Through the broken roadside tap
The sun burned like a death-fire
On bodies, bloodless and charred.
The white cloth clung to flesh
Laying bare embers of lost hopes
Unceasing the water flowed
Onto the soap-lathered bodies
And thence into the foul gutter
If only time went reverse
These ebony bodies would love
To swim back to the safety
Of that primeval water body
From where they had journeyed here
A journey back from fire to water.
poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri
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