It is with an old love as it is with old age a man lives to all the miseries, but is dead to all the pleasures.
quote by Francois de La Rochefoucauld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Why Be A Bukowski Or An Emily? They Are All Dead
hey friend, dear poet
why be an emily dickenson or a charles bukowski
or a walt whitman or an ezra pound
look man, they are all dead
they're great, they have given themselves
extraordinary fames
commensurate to their extraordinary works
but they are all dead
and they have no more possibilities
they are all impotents
and faded and (forgive the word)
gone, gone, gone, gone.
let them be but part of our memories,
nothing but maps, guides, to the roads that we must now
take,
ghosts, famous ghosts, but ghosts just the same,
spirits, their poems are here with us
as a legacy
but we are alive, we are the possibilities
we are more than miserable with our
search for meaning
our quest to justify our insignificances
these little cravings for light
and scent and color
these little lives we have
if true to our miseries
as they were true to theirs
we can even be more
than what they had in their own time
in their own lives
have become......
sail on man, sail on, in the ocean of possibilities
in the vast space of our potentialities
we can be ourselves, truly ourselves,
that to me,
is greatness enough
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: My life
My poverty has been my best Teacher;
My selflessness has been my best helper;
My miseries have been my best lover;
My love of God has been my best Master.
If not for poverty, could I turn great?
If not for miseries, could I change fate?
If not for enemies, could I be sane?
If not for evil minds, could I God gain?
Our freedom won hard is not for abuse;
Our liberty is not to ignore laws;
Our literacy is for use, not misuse;
Our will-power is not like Eagle's claws.
A righteous life is what God wants of us;
And love, we must our neighbours without fuss.
poem by John Celes
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Monologue Of A Commercial Fisherman
“If you work a body of water and a body of woman
you can take fish out of one and children out of the other
for the two kinds of survival. The fishing is good,
both kinds are adequate in pleasures and yield,
but the hard work and the miseries are killing;
it is a good life if life is good. If not, not.
You are out in the world and in in the world,
having it both ways: it is sportive and prevenient living
combined, although you have to think about the weathers
and the hard work and the miseries are what I said.
It runs on like water, quickly, under the boat,
then slowly like the sand dunes under the house.
You survive by yourself by the one fish for a while
and then by the other afterward when you run out.
You run out a hooky life baited with good times,
and whether the catch is caught or not is a question
for those who go fishing for men or among them for things.”
poem by Alan Dugan
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Cool Relief
You are my lovely dedicated wife
A cool relief in this hot hell of miseries.
You are my noble friend
A cool relief in this hot hell of miseries.
You are my obedient son
A cool relief in this hot hell of miseries.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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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.
I've had to learn to be away from disease.
To figure my life out.
And weed away all nonsense,
From my reach.
There is so much joy seen in me that's deep.
'Cause my jaws are 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.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
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 their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
And none of that will chip away my peace!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Maiden's Lament
The clouds fast gather,
The forest-oaks roar--
A maiden is sitting
Beside the green shore,--
The billows are breaking with might, with might,
And she sighs aloud in the darkling night,
Her eyelid heavy with weeping.
"My heart's dead within me,
The world is a void;
To the wish it gives nothing,
Each hope is destroyed.
I have tasted the fulness of bliss below
I have lived, I have loved,--Thy child, oh take now,
Thou Holy One, into Thy keeping!"
"In vain is thy sorrow,
In vain thy tears fall,
For the dead from their slumbers
They ne'er can recall;
Yet if aught can pour comfort and balm in thy heart,
Now that love its sweet pleasures no more can impart,
Speak thy wish, and thou granted shalt find it!"
"Though in vain is my sorrow,
Though in vain my tears fall,--
Though the dead from their slumbers
They ne'er can recall,
Yet no balm is so sweet to the desolate heart,
When love its soft pleasures no more can impart,
As the torments that love leaves behind it!"
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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My Definition Of Beauty
Beauty are the roses
Mixed with beauty within
Not just a pretty face
Or pleasures it brings
But lives it beautify
Beauty are the flowers
Blessed with faithfulness
Honesty stains it's plate
Its kindness fills lakes
Its love cannot break
Beauty isn't I love you
But giving love that's true
Beauty isn't sweet words
But words that inspires lives
Beauty isn't what you say
But the way it's said
The rainbows in the sky
The angels from up high
Beauty can lighten eyes
But true beauty lives
Very deep inside
It's grace can bring joy
To Hundreds of hearts.
copyright ©
All rights Eyan Desir)
poem by Eyan Desir
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On Hearing Miss Thrale Consulting with a Friend About a Gown and Hat
Wear the gown and wear the hat,
Snatch thy pleasures while they last;
Hadst thou nine lives, like a cat,
Soon those nine lives would be pass'd.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Golden Coins
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Say youre mine, then ask me what you will
All your dreams, my darling Ill fulfill
Golden coins, I will bring to you
Silver trinkets and rubies too
In return dear Im begging you
For the pleasures of love
Ill bring gifts, like you never saw
Priceless garments that youll adore
Persian rugs to enhance your floor
For the pleasures of love
Darling, choose anything you please
Rich brocade, or woven tapestries
In exchange, I plead on my knees
For the pleasure of love
Golden coins, Ill place at your feet
Precious jewels to make life complete
All my treasures are yours my sweet
For the pleasures of love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Is
(kate mccarrigle/anna mccarrigle/jane mccarrigle)
Love is a shiny car
Love is a steel guitar
Love is a battle scar
Love is a morning song
Love is a twelve-bar blues
Love is your blue suede shoes
Love is a heart abused
Love is a mind confused
And love is the pleasures Im told
And for some love is still a band of gold
My love has no reason, has no rhyme
My love cross the double line
Love is a mine of gold
Love is a man to hold
Love is a drowning soul
Love is its own reward
And love is the pleasures Im told
And for some love is still a band of gold
My love has no reason, has no rhyme
My love cross the double line
And love is the pleasures Im told
And for some love is still a band of gold
My love has no reason, has no rhyme
My love cross the double line
Oh, my love cross the double line
Oh, my love cross the double line
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When one's own become one's enemy
When one's own
Become one's enemy
One does not need
Others to hurt him
Miseries
Become his friend
Tears give him company
Desire to live vanish
Loneliness creeps in
Depression sets in
Life becomes hell
Every moment one dies
Start thinking
There is no other choice
But to leave the world
Free him self from
Miseries
17-03-2012
396-130-03-12
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead
WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD
When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-
When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?
When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-
When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-
When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy
When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.
When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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When Earth Quaked
Earth uncovered
Two hundred thousand dead
A woman groaned
Stone slabs crushed her head
These are the times
When God weeps
When the earth quaked
I heard His steps
In my pain
I am filled with anger
My blood curls
As I ponder
How many lives slip
In this quake's blunder
This is how earth rage
I am thankful
For the hands He sent
The press
People from every corner
Friends I never knew
This is how you know
He never sleeps
Many dead
But many spared
So I am not mad
New lives conceived
Still lives to be lived
Two hundred thousand dead
But millions breathe
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Dead Hope
Hope new born one pleasant morn
Died at even;
Hope dead lives nevermore.
No, not in heaven.
If his shroud were but a cloud
To weep itself away;
Or were he buried underground
To sprout some day!
But dead and gone is dead and gone
Vainly wept upon.
Nought we place above his face
To mark the spot,
But it shows a barren place
In our lot.
Hope has birth no more on earth
Morn or even;
Hope dead lives nevermore,
No, not in heaven.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Put this restriction on your pleasures, be cautious that they injure no being that lives.
quote by John Zimmerman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love without Pain
Fire is unexpected without smoke
Love is also unexpected without pain
If love is fire then pain is smoke
Smoke is the realization of fire
Pain is also the realization of love
Fire is the coincidence of two objects
Love is also coincidence of two hearts
Soul is free from pains and pleasures
Mind can only understand the pains and pleasures
But heart can feel the pains and pleasures
May be throughout life
Love of one’s is not understood
But isolation of the beloved one
Makes us the realization of one love
Love is the natural phenomenon like fire
Life without love is a barren land
Fire sometimes burns to ashes
Love also sometimes makes the life to ashes
If life is delighted due to love
Surrounding is also enlightened due to fire
But when love and fire comes together
Fire is extinguished due to love of a beloved one
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Sonnet: Live Heavenly-Wise
Two goals in life, we ought to keep in mind:
The transient one’s to live, a life content;
The celestial one’s more important, we find;
To get the latter, our mind must be bent.
The man who lives as per His Holy Will,
Is troubled much on earth by more devils;
And suffers pain and sadness much but still,
Through prayer keeps away from all evils.
The man who lives a worldly-life does well;
His senses fail to recognize what’s sin;
His sinful life will surely earn him Hell;
You can’t have earthly pleasures and Heaven!
The righteous man who lives as per God’s wish,
His living for God’s sake, and not selfish.
6-30-2001
poem by John Celes
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God Has Blessed
God has blessed our lives
God has helped us to survive
In all life's pleasures 'n pains
In all sorts of losses 'n gains
God has blessed our lives
God has helped us to survive
And has kept our spirits high
In all life's weather cool or dry
God has blessed our lives
God has helped us to survive
And he is the one who has shown
Life's nice days and bright morns
God has blesses our lives
God has helped us to survive
And he has given us sunshine
In the form of parent's loving wine.
Seema Chowdhury
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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An Old Tradition
An old tradition,
An old love;
Strap, trap, rap, tap, map, crap, cap, wrap, frap;
We brought nothing into this world and,
It is certain that we can carry nothing out!
But, food and clothing are needed in life,
And like your sensual desires.
An old tradition,
A person who lives for pleasure is dead while he or she still lives! !
But, i want to marry you my love;
So, keep yourself clean amd pure always,
And pay attention to yourself!
For, i am ever prepared for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Too Many
To many broken promises...
Too many hearts heavy with care--
Too many fires of un-requited love--
Too many bleeding wounds of utter despair;
Too many doors that have closed forever...
Too many bridges burned behind...
Too many left with questions and no answers...
Too many good Souls lost over time;
Oh-the woes and the sorrows...
How they do suffer ones aching heart--
Un-neccesary travails and endless miseries...
Too many lives-shattered apart;
The Golden Rule
June 18,2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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