Much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
quote by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pain XVI
And a woman spoke, saying, 'Tell us of Pain.'
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain
And a woman spoke, saying, 'Tell us of Pain.'
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your pain is....
Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break,that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your
heart, even as you have always accepted
the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the
physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink
his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided
by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Pain
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its
heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart,
even as you have always accepted the seasons that
pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the
winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within
you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy
in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by
the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has
been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has
moistened with His own sacred tears.
poem by Khalil Gibran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A double edge sword
They say love is
a physician,
or a medicine for
the hearts pang.
But is not much
accurate when love
slugs you many times
and it never heals
the heart,
Much more then that it
shatters it every time.
For my heart is wounded
in numerous ways it is not
a proving thing,
Is like a myth a
fairy tale;
Love is a double
edge sword,
they might say love
is an antidote that
heals or an aspirin to
ease the pain,
Not in my world,
in my veins,
but yet the only
love that heals my wounds
and my aches is
the Lord's love.
A mans love
has no remedy,
it is the worst love you
can conceive
love is a tainted touch
when coming from mortal,
A dark veil with
poison desires,
love has come to me
with untainted eyes,
and hidden thorns,
covering his identity,
A pet can give away
his best to you,
a pure innocent love,
with meekness eyes
and pure soul.
Love is not a healer
to the heart,
to me it is a thieve of my
peace and bliss,
a harmony turn to war.
So love is a physician,
that's what they say,
but medicine posthumous
is unreachable unless by
Godly
The love of God is
a true love,
it has no envy
no confinement,
no conditions,
is perpetual and
immaculate.
Don't tell me love
is a physician,
a physician is
what I need after having
the love of thee.
Jehovah is my physician indeed
copyrightElenaToledo2009
poem by Elenushka Toledo
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I Am Sick....
I am sick …. The pain I feel.
I am sick…. This must be surreal.
I am sick…. I will not die.
I am sick…. But I must live on with this lie.
I am sick…. It’s not like cancer it’s not that bad.
I am sick… but the say depression goes with this pain I have.
I am sick…. It will never disappear.
I am sick…. My days will go on with the same o’l tear.
I am sick…. That I have thought of taking my pain away.
I am sick…. For that I cannot for the pain must stay.
I am sick… and no one can fix me.
I am sick…. That no one can see.
I am sick…. They believe nothing is wrong with me.
I am sick…. Because of this disease.
I am sick…. Because I beg god please.
poem by Winifred Harkness
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One must not forget that recovery is brought about not by the physician, but by the sick man himself. He heals himself, by his own power, exactly as he walks by means of his own power, or eats, or thinks, breathes or sleeps.
quote by Georg Groddeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Sweet
(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
Bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
I never thought Id understand
Never thought I could
The way I feel about you
And how much I need your love
How much I need your love
Bitter sweet
If I analysed each feeling
And captured every thought
Id not be any nearer
To the beating of your heart
The beating of your heart
Bridge:
Its neither pain nor pleasure
Ice cold or tropic heat
Your love is hard to measure
But its taste, mmm, its taste
Is bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
Bitter sweet
Now as I think about you
And the way you make me feel
You hurt me and I doubt you
You smile and my heart heals
Smile and my heart heals
Bridge
Bitter sweet (x5)
Bridge (x2)
Bitter sweet (x7)
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God is.....
God is my provider, For everything I need,
When I am hungry, I rely on Him my feed;
But even more, He supplies for me each day,
Strength for the day, And rest for me at night.
God is my great Physician, he helps every hurt and pain,
He heals when I'm not well, my trust in Him is not in vain;
He also heals past hurts, every anger and every fear,
Because He promised to never leave, but to stay so near.
God is my Teacher, and my very best Friend,
I don't need to worry, on Him I can depend;
There are many things I need to learn from His Holy Word,
And He helps me to understand, I thank my loving Lord.
poem by Margaret Haig
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A physician is not angry at the intemperance of a mad patient, nor does he take it ill to be railed at by a man in fever. Just so should a wise man treat all mankind, as a physician does his patient, and look upon them only as sick and extravagant.
quote by Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick all
Sick for all...
All are sick...
Today...
Morden world...
Sick is not disease
Sick is little of
Back pain...
Little of leg pain...
Little of sneezy...
Little of head ache...
Little of tired....
All are sick...
Sick for all...above
With a badley life style...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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London Rain
I'm coming, i'm coming home to you
I'm alive, i'm a mess
I can't wait to get home to you
To get warm and undressed
There've been changes beyond my dreams
Everybody wants me to sing
There've been changes beyond my grasp
Things i'm sinking in
So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
And when somebody knows you well
Well, there's no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well, there's no drug like that
So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
And when i'm home, curled in your arms
And i'm safe again
I'll close my eyes and sleep, sleep
To the sound of london rain
So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
So keep me, keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like london rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like london rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like london rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like london rain
Nothing heals me like you do
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sicckk
sick of it..
im so sick of it
im sick of waking up in the morning.
im sick of you saying im nothing,
im sick of you calling me down.
im sick of you drinking all the time. |
im sick of you blaming everything on meh.
im sick of you
im sick of this
im sick of everything..
but must of all your the one im sick of..
i relise your the reson for my pain...
sorry mom..
its time for me to goo..
poem by Cheylayna Bear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Potion
Chorus
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
End chorus
I'll wait for you by the fireside
Even if it takes me all night
All night would certainly be worth
Getting rid of this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll sit with you, alone there
Sharing stories and trading laughs
Those laughs would all be worth
This pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
Later on we'll sit there, old as dust
And you'll wish you could have willed me away
But I'll hold you close as we die
These days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
I'll brew you a love potion
Even if it takes me five days
Five days would certainly be worth
All this pain you've secretly been giving me
But you didn't know it
At the end of life I'll wish to bring
Those old days back from the dead
Relive them over and over again
When I brewed you that love potion
And it took me five days
Five days were certainly worth
All that pain you blasted me with
But you didn't know it
And now you know it
It's too late, you fell in love
You fell in love potion
Like the one I brewed for you
Keep Me
I'm coming, i'm coming home to you
I'm Alive I'm a mess
I can't wait to get home to you
To get warm, warm and undressed
There've been changes beyond my dreams
Everybody wants me to sing
There've been changes beyond my grasp
Things I'm sinking in
So keep me, keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
And when somebody knows you well
Well there's no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well there's no drug Iike that
So keep me, keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Keep me keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
And where l'm home, curled in your arms
And I'm safe again
I'll close my eyes and sleep, sleep
To the sound of London Rain
So keep me, keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Keep me keep me
In your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London Rain
Nothing heals me like you do
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Great Healer
Time is a great healer
for the sorrows we must face
and the sadness we bear
when life deals us a bitter blow.
As the pain diminishes
as the years roll on by
we never forget
and alone in our privacy
tears occasionally leak from our eyes.
The pain is not as harsh,
but in us, it still resides.
Time heals the open wounds,
but never quite takes
all the pain away.
14 April 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whenever God Shines His Light On Me
Whenever God shines his light on me
Opens up my eyes so I can see
When I look up in the darkest night
I know everythings going to be alright
In deep confusion, in great despair
When I reach out for him he is there
When I am lonely as I can be
I know that God shines his light on me
Reach out for him, hell be there
With him your troubles you can share
If you live the life you love
You get the blessing from above
He heals the sick and heals the lame
Says you can do it too in jesus name
Hell lift you up and turn you around
And put your feet back on higher ground
Reach out for him, hell be there
With him your troubles you can share
You can use his higher power
In every day and any hour
He heals the sick and heals the lame
Says you can do it too in jesus name
Hell lift you up and turn you around
And put your feet back on higher ground.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chi
Pain!
Buried so far away. into my life of nothing
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
I am so high always. burying my life so slowly.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
It opens my mind to feelings. cant face bottom without something.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Re-entering my head, feeling like Im god
With the world around me, cant you feel this pain?
Ripping through my heart!
Screaming through my mind!
Nothing I can kill!
Screaming a...
Lie! i! am!
Cant you tear my eyes out?
Cant you take my heart?
Away to heart
Good-bye...
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole this big
So I dig a hole this...
Pain, pain, pain...
song performed by by Korn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tired of living a lie
I 'Am sick of all the crying
I 'am sick of not knowing
I'am sick of not showing
I' am sick, of people
I'm sick of pretending is
all perfect.
Tired of living a lie
sick of loving you
Tired of the tear I cry
Sick of anger
Sick of pain in my heart
Sick of having to do this
Again.
Marisa Taylor
poem by Maria Luisa Taylor
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