No one ever approaches perfection except by stealth, and unknown to themselves.
quote by William Hazlitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Art is a reality, not a definition; inasmuch as it approaches a reality, it approaches perfection, and inasmuch as it approaches a mere definition, it is imperfect and untrue.
quote by Benjamin Haydon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unknown
This unknown figure...
This unknown place...
Where am I at anyways?
This unknown feeling that I have,
This unknown pain inside;
I can't run away from.
Unknown heart, Unknown soul,
All unknown and all gone.
Sadden by all of this and all that's left..
Is me with no feeling...
I'm gone and lost and can't find a way out!
I'm an unknown person,
And an unknown girl who can't be seen.
I'm invisible, I'm a nobody,
I'm an unknown figure to people.
I'm gone forever and ever...right?
poem by Jessica Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Victim In Me
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
I know what I'd do put in the position.
I know how I would do it.
Reading minds.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Coordinating the attack.
Knowing they won't be able to do jack.
How I love the powerless.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Can feel the desperation.
Can you see the celebration.
The joyous occasion of misery.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
On the retreat.
A sign of defeat.
Isn't it neat.
The blood flows right beneath your feet.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
It's never easy for a king to capture his throne.
Be careful of mercy.
Be you not considered weak.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
One taste of sweet victory and theirs no going back.
The brutality of ambition.
Look at all the heads of your enemies.
Piked all over your kingdom for all too see.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Tears fall upon their deaths.
Jeers and cheers fall upon their deaths.
Rage fills some.
Others completely fall apart.
A sickness that cause them to come undone.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Or these thing I would not be able see.
A fortune teller be.
A march right in the midst of destiny.
The wounded are so plenty.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Or these thing I would not be able see.
A fortune teller be.
A march right in the midst of destiny.
The wounded are so plenty.
They are always so plenty.
And one is me.
Oh yes one is me.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The perfection of anonymity
Even in the place where some knew my name
I walked unknown though, occasionally, some would mutter,
some would mouth a whisper:
That's him
and point in the direction.
Here, however, is the perfection of anonymity
for I
not only go without an identity,
I go too without a name.
Here, however, as
I slip through department stores and streets
and get off trains and walk into stations
like a shadow
as one more in the crowd
is the perfection of my anonymity for I not only
go without an identity, I go too without a name.
(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))
poem by Raj Arumugam
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(Reading Poem) An Escape
To an insight forever more
To the unknown worlds I explore
Travel the unknown
Something ventured
Something gained
Open the book and close your eyes
Whether of the grim
Whether of the greatest
Its still there
In all its glory
It doesn't have to be the fabled story
Perfection is but a mere reflection of such horrid experiences
To tell is my deaths escape
With a single kiss I embrace
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I am what you would call a stern taskmaster. I expect perfection. And then a little more perfection when perfection is offered.
quote by Estee Lauder
Submitted by Simona Enache
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The closer a man approaches tragedy the more intense is his concentration of emotion upon the fixed point of his commitment, which is to say the closer he approaches what in life we call fanaticism.
quote by Arthur Miller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfection
Perfection is a life-time work,
We try attaining through sheer toil,
And hardly see the peak at all,
But keep sliding down, even fall!
Perfection is akin mirage,
That dupes our senses and our mind,
And drives us crazy, crestfallen,
Like horizon that stays untrue!
Perfection is subjective then,
And differs from issues, moments,
Making man give up halfway through,
And leaving him imperfect still!
Perfection is a ghost-like goal,
That hardly can be half-attained,
Despite our best perseverance,
Defeating us well in the end!
poem by John Celes
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How The Heart Approaches What It Yearns
In the blue light
Of the belvedere motel
Wondering as the television burns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
In a fever
I distinctly hear your voice
Emerging from a dream, the dream returns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
After the rain on the interstate
The headlights slide past the moon
A bone-weary traveler
Waits by the side of the road
Wheres he goin?
I dream we are lying on the top of a hill
And headlights slide past the moon
I fold in your arms
And your voice is the heat of the night
Im on fire
In a phone booth
In some local bar and grill
Rehearsing what Ill say, my coin returns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
How the heart approaches what it yearns
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfection
Your cold and poor-spirited love
Was like running water upon my hands...
I did for your love, all that I could....
As an imperfect man that I am...
I offered you just possible things...
Warmth when you were cold,
And consolation when you felt hopeless...
You search for perfection
Which you will never find...
Perfect is the rain that falls
In the spring time...
Perfect are the flowers that grow
in a real garden of love....
Perfect is the smile in a child
Who plays with toys...
Perfection is a man
Who had it all
And now is getting tired and old...
Perfection are the memories
In your heart and mind...
Perfection is something
You shall never find
On me or any other man
Since perfection is just
In your dreams and imagination...
Now perfection becomes
Just like a story untold....
How sad it is
That my love you can no longer have
Neither my hands again hold...
o! Woman, wish you good luck
In your new try...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Perfection
Hush little baby, gotta be strong
cause in this world we are born to fight
Be the best prove them wrong
A winners work is never done
Reach the top number one
Perfection...
Oh perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
Ive worn my pride as my perfection
Perfection....oh!
I was taught to be tough
That the best that you can be aint enough
Crack the whip, sacrifice
But I found out paradise had a price
I didnt know it then
But oh I know it now
You gotta work as hard at love
To make the love work out
You know this heart of mine
Had made some big mistakes
I guess that when it comes to love
I just dont know what it takes...
Chorus:
All my life Ive been driven by perfection
Pushed it to the limit every day and night
Whoa...Ive been driven by perfection
But nothins perfect when love aint right
Nothins perfect when love aint right
Gave it all played my part
I gave everything I had but my heart
Worked so hard made a name
But the loneliness inside stays the same
When love is here to today
And then its gone today
You got a list of lovers like a resume
You gotta take some times
To make it something real
I guess that when it comes to love
I just dont know how to feel
Chorus repeat
Oh perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
Ive worn my pride as my perfection
Im goin crazy with perfection
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yogi post-it to William Carlos Williams
Thanks for leaving one…
I can only say,
that in the passing moment
the cold perfection of that plum
reflected my perfection
reflecting all perfection
and the beauty of that moment
was but my own beauty
which must be, is, the beauty of the One
so I hope the remainder
were as perfect, beautiful
for you
so why not
write a poem about this?
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Destination Unknown
Im getting outta here cause theres too many complications
Yeah Im getting outta here dont get driven any information
And if they ask you for a number to call just say Im gone thats all
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Ill be gone, gone, gone
Destination unknown, destination unknown
If anybody wants me just say you dont know the address
Cause Ive had enough of the confusion and the madness
And should anybody ever try to stall, just say Im gone thats all
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Ill be gone, gone, gone
Destination unknown, destination unknown
Im tired of playing other peoples games
Tired of waiting for some things to change
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Ill be gone, gone, gone
Destination unknown, destination unknown
Im tired of playing other peoples games
Tired of waiting for some things to change
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Ill be gone, gone, gone
Destination unknown, destination unknown
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Ill be gone, gone, gone
Destination unknown, destination unknown
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
Destination unknown, Im a long way from home
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stealth, Health and Wealth
Stealth, health and wealth, each a curious breed
Are not such strange bedfellows indeed.
Stealth, with its cunning and mysterious ways,
Escapes notice matter not the attention one pays.
With the suspicious this surreptitious wins in spite
Of all who strain for a glimpse of its sight.
Then there's health with its nefarious aim,
Favoring young and wealthy in its merciless game.
What justice is there as it forsakes the weak,
Choosing to stand by and laugh at the meek?
Or why does it change with no reason at all,
Ignoring vanquished victims imploring its call?
Now lastly take wealth, oh wealth so dear.
The worst irony of all may, indeed, lies here.
Many forfeit love and happiness for a chance
To tiptoe with this god in an all-too-short dance.
Then as stealth teams with wealth, it's time to pay
Costs of health escaping more notice every day.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Fragment 10
Perfection
Where is this perfection?
In our fingers
That do not have the same sizes?
In our feet that stumble?
In our eyes that do not see too well?
In our skin that sheds off from time to time?
In our broken selves?
In our shattered days, our past haunting
Our future dwindling like
Stones powdered by
Time’s hammering
Hours
Perfection
You feel it sometimes
It is there
It is not yet here
It waits for us
And we are not rushing still
We are frozen
Like trees in winter
Come summer
We shall wilt like twigs
And leaves
Perfection remains
A quest
For the waters
To quench our thirsts
And it is not yet here
Our wells are dry
The rivers too muddy
The sea too salty
The spring polluted
Where then?
Wait, just wait,
He has the answer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Osmotic Approaches
If one lacks desire to understand,
Another's culture or aspects of it...
What good is the interpretation,
Of a language unknown?
Especially if the people are distanced.
Like a painter who wishes to do it,
Without either the canvas or the paint.
To achieve what purpose is it one seeks?
A comprehension is not revealed,
Without one's committed involvement.
A clarity does not deliver through,
Osmotic approaches as some would choose.
Or one's maintaining of assumptions done.
Some want to have their experieces delivered.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It's Like An Impatience Waiting
The hour for the last time,
You allow someone to get on your nerves...
Approaches.
And something inside of you knows it.
It's like an impatience waiting,
To pop the cork...
On a bottle of champagne.
The hour for the last time,
You allow someone to get on your nerves...
Approaches.
And unaware is this person,
They assist in helping you to celebrate...
A time in your life,
You thought would never come!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The known and the unknown
Life is known as known.
Death is known as unknown.
Self is unknown as known.
But God? It is unknown as unknown.
05.08.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Human Perfection?
Perfection:
The Holy Grail of human beings
Yet;
Masked by parental ignorance
Fogged by societal imprinting
Deemed impossible by self-loathing victims
Impugned and judged by the self-righteous
Struck blind by fear and guilt
Perfection:
Cannot be attained by deeds,
Rather by recognizing true self
As a Divine Act of God here and now
As all is fashioned from the “Light of Creation”
Rejoice precious ones' for perfection lay within
A Master once taught, “Know thy self”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Lycanthrope
The moon calls to me
A dark message of the wolfs howl
A yellow moonlight feed to me
The strength in me grows
A power i not often feel consumes my being
A fear of me develops in the hearts of men
The women dare not approach me
Priests curse me to send me to hell
All as my senses raise as i await for attack
a Light of dim approaches
I run
Faster deeper into the unknown
were darkness consumes even the most bold of hearts
and death grasps the souls of the righteous
The light continues to follow its demise
a crack of sticks under foot
The shuffling of creatures unknown
The hiss of the silent unknown wind
The unwary approach me
Unknowing of there death resides in the darkness
She becomes visible in the yellow moonlight
her beauty is revealed
brown hair
green eyes
her soul untormenting
My heart begs to leave her unharmed
The taint inside forever grows though
so i approach her
death approaches her
My howl to weaken the hearts of the strongest
though she stands firm with love in her heart
My taint grows ever stronger
My murderous rage ready for another unwelcome soul
But yet she remains calm
Love remains in her heart
I howl ready once again to take life
But the rage
It is gone
Warmth returns to my blood
My heart resumes control
My form of the natural and once again i can love
She had placed a hand on the chest of a beast
and that hands remains still on the chest of a man
I have been saved from the beast
and i love her for it
But the beast remains
resting now
the beast now no longer answers to the moon
the beast now tamed answers to love.
poem by Daniel Laurence
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