I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.
quote by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That I did always love
549
That I did always love
I bring thee Proof
That till I loved
I never lived—Enough—
That I shall love alway—
I argue thee
That love is life—
And life hath Immortality—
This—dost thou doubt—Sweet—
Then have I
Nothing to show
But Calvary—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Suttee
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?
Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Eternally Adored
God's mentation surely shorted thee naught-
For if you aren't an Angel, then, to be, thee ought!
He hath bestowed upon thee, eyes most resplendent;
Beyond comprehension-my emotions for thee, transcendent!
The first, when I was very young; Perchance, last whence I, doddery!
As I live my life of wonder, I shall covet thee as my feodary!
Heaven hath no response more beauteous than thee-
Likewise, Earth hath no consort more duteous than me!
Wheresoever you may be, whatsoever you may do-
Whensoever I may have cause to do so, I shall ruminate, of you!
My life was inexorably altered when you sought, then did find, me;
Should you ever doubt your grace, I shall be there, to remind thee!
You are my soul's accompaniment and my heart's reward, -
Perchance, you trust not in forever, yet you shall be eternally adored!
Maurice Harris,8 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Poems On Life
Life is given to us,
we earn it by giving it.
Let the dead have the immortality of fame,
but the living the immortality of love.
Life's errors cry for the merciful beauty
that can modulate their isolation into a
harmony with the whole.
Life, like a child, laughs,
shaking its rattle of death as it runs.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Mediator
O Christ, true Son of God most high,
Thy name we praise for ever;
Whoe'er to Thee for help doth cry
Shall find Thee fail him never;
'Tis Thou wilt plead,
Thou intercede
With God, for us who need Thy prayers so sore:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
To Thee the Father giveth now
All power in earth and heaven;
Sin, Satan, Death to Thee must bow,
All fetters Thou hast riven,
Bade fear to cease,
And made our peace,
That now to God we dare our hearts outpour:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
Fulness of grace is in Thy Word;
The Life, the Truth, the Way
To life eternal art Thou, Lord;
To Thee alone we pray,
Who didst appear
A servant here
To bear the sin that crushed the world before:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
poem by Hans Sachs
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Oh Sailor Sails To The Shore!
When the sea is clam
Moon light shines thee
Sit and think what life desire
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor imagine what
you doing to your life thee
And in others life thee
When the sea is clam
Sit in the moonlight
Ask yourself are you true
With life that God grant
Loyal to your inner spirit
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor think if you
Are in love with thee
And all words desires
With honestly and faith
When the sea is clam
Look at above the sky
Declare to god I am true
My love is pure thee
I truly fall for this woman
I send email across thee
Clam Sea in silent night thee
When the sea is clam
Thou' wave you may not see
But silent nights ask thee
Are you certainty in love?
And sending this email
With your love connect thee
When the sea is clam
Oh sailor sails to the shore
Where aspiration thee
Take her in your arms
Thus ``I love you ``
Let's sail together thee
Legend enlighten our love
Everlastingly in this clam sea
poem by Ezna Stephna
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Memories Of Thee
Memories of thee, infused within me, with effeverscence;
Thoughts abound of thee, love of thine own presence;
Walk with me, hold my hand, for I am your Dad-
Speak to me, I shall protect you, though removed was, what we had!
Love for you, paternal, hath been since your genesis-
Thus with your love for me, as shown, does define us!
My life's purpose, from then, defined through you-
Fatherhood, for me, means everything because of you!
My little lady you are, always shall thee be-
My special gift, an offering from Heaven, as the world does see!
He, Himself, proffered you to me, as we needed one another-
Nary could we have found satiation with any other!
I love thee, with effusion and without bounds-
I love thee, lo, surely the love betwixt, astounds!
Maurice Harris,11 December 2007
poem by Maurice Harris
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Book Of Suleika - Hatem 01
NOT occasion makes the thief;
She's the greatest of the whole;
For Love's relics, to my grief,
From my aching heart she stole.
She hath given it to thee,--
All the joy my life had known,
So that, in my poverty,
Life I seek from thee alone.
Yet compassion greets me straight
In the lustre of thine eye,
And I bless my newborn fate,
As within thine arms I lie.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Sonnet VIII: Love's Lovers
Some ladies love the jewels in Love's zone,
And gold-tipped darts he hath for painless play
In idle scornful hours he flings away;
And some that listen to his lute's soft tone
Do love to vaunt the silver praise their own;
Some prize his blindfold sight; and there be they
Who kissed his wings which brought him yesterday
And thank his wings to-day that he is flown.
My lady only loves the heart of Love:
Therefore Love's heart, my lady, hath for thee
His bower of unimagined flower and tree:
There kneels he now, and all-anhungered of
Thine eyes grey-lit in shadowing hair above,
Seals with thy mouth his immortality.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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I Love my Life, but not too well
I love my life, but not too well
To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell
Deep in its perfume but an hour.
I love my life, but not too well.
I love my life, but not too well
To sing it note by note away,
So to thy soul the song may tell
The beauty of the desolate day.
I love my life, but not too well.
I love my life, but not too well
To cast it like a cloak on thine,
Against the storms that sound and swell
Between thy lonely heart and mine.
I love my life, but not too well.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Birth of death
Birth of death
(Stream of consciousness poetry)
This is a well thinking thought
How to control
A robot
Before inventing,
How do you cherish
The success of poetry
Before composing,
This is a well thinking thought
Of the immortality
To give the meaning
The state of being
As the creator
Can not create
The enemy of
Immortality,
Which He Himself is,
Death
Is the success
Of the game plan
Before the game
Was invented
But loophole lies
The immortality
Does not have life.
What's the pleasure
Of being an entity
Of immortality
Without taste
Of life and death!
(He Himself knows)
poem by Abdul Wahab
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But A Matter Of Time
My beloved, upon this day of myriad amorous thought,
I shall attempt to convey what your love hath brought!
Bestowed unto me hath been days, beauteous and bright-
Whence even the Sun hath not been within my sight!
Days are rife with jollity, whence upon thee I ponder,
Many more, yet to come, in our life, of unending wonder!
Count me now, most fortuitous, my heart's elation abiding-
To thee, and all the world, this soul's capture, I am confiding!
As though I had wished upon a 1,000 stars, falling-
God hath answered this loving heart's calling;
He hath not just seen to my love's fitting requite,
He hath ensured I may love, with all my might!
Ne'er before, in time's hallowed history
Hath this greatest of emotion's enlightenment
Been anything but an unattainable mystery-
My loyalty to love, He did sight and sent
His most beloved beauty, His Angel, most highly regarded
To see fitting continuance of a love, many years ago, started!
God smiles upon me, each and every day-
Taken away so much pain, supplanted with this beauteous ray
Of resplendent beautificence, mine eyes have never seen-
As sikerly, in the world's annals, there hath ne'er been!
My life, entire, I could most certainly spend
To endeavor recompense, yet it would never end-
To honor you, proper, I shall surely strive, still,
With time's infinity, its only lasting rival!
Ne'er did I believe true love, as this, attainable-
As it was my own belief, I must be amenable
To love of another more than of self, heightened and true-
At a time most disbelieving of same, I found this, with you!
Time and distance mean naught, as now I know of your existence-
Shown to be hopelessly futile, is any form of resistance;
I was meant to become, for your consort, prime-
I now know my true love's avail is but a matter of time!
Maurice Harris,10 February 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Something at the back of your mind.
If I had done something wonderful in my life
Or left a book with my name in print
Would that be my immortality?
Or is immortality a done deal
If you believe in Christ
Then where are the rules?
Kindness, love and an attitude
That would please Christ
Surely that is the answer?
Man interferes and proposes
A complete turn
Even if there has been murder
Theft or a lapse in the ten
Commandments
Be born again
What is that?
In my life I have learnt
And seen people savaged
By corruption and fear
In the next life will
All of us be there?
Good or bad?
The holocaust survivor
And the men that sent
Thousands to their death?
It is the eternal question.
poem by Willow Moon Pearce
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Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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My Life's Destiny
I anxiously await rendezvous with my life's destiny;
She hath seen mine own heart, now shall-the rest of me!
An Angel hath called for me-yet, am I prime?
I feel my heart's true exaltation, for the very first time!
I shall present for thee, my beloved: myself, true;
I shan't prevaricate, not even slight- I do so adore you:
Mine eyes have seen glorious, inspired beauty,
Yet, to secern for the world, your's-my God-given duty!
Be not afeared, I shall covet thee as I would, my own wife;
I proffer aegis-I shall protect thee and thine as I do, my own life!
Naught could be more lovely, no more pleasance may be,
Your grace-the most resplendent light, shining brightly, for me!
This magnificent mirth I feel in my soul, naught could portend!
I shall love thee ever more my beloved, as time doth wend!
Maurice Harris,12 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Xliii
How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Autograph Verses
'Prove what Life can give of gladness;
Seek for aught that merits trust —
All thy mirth will turn to sadness,
All thy bliss to cold disgust.
Soon revolving years will banish
Fairest hopes, in darkness laid;
Earthly treasures soon must vanish,
Strength and beauty fail and fade.'
Thus, life-weary, spake the preacher,
Closing his misguided quest.
Heed him not, the half-truth teacher,
Deaf to Love's supreme behest.
But with Faith thy life adorning,
Serve thy race as Heaven hath plann'd;
Sow thy seed at dawn of morning,
Nor at evening stay thy hand.
Never shall this path seem weary;
Never hath such purpose fail'd;
Nor the retrospect proved dreary,
When Life's furthest heights are scaled.
And in bright realms still above thee,
On some ever-verdant shore,
Those thou servest, and who love thee,
Shall rejoin, to part no more.
poem by Joseph Furphy
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In the spirit of Rumi 44 -Between, lies beyond
Some men argue all their life
against predestination
Some men argue all their life
against free will
You argue with yourself all your life
about predestination and about free will
Wise men say that God is to be found
where opposites meet and are resolved
Between predestination and free will
is to be found belief.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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