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Without Questioning The Appeal Of Ideals
'Offer to throw to them money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
And will erase all agony,
From their memories claimed...
To be tied to their histories.'
There are certain aspects of life,
That are inevitable.
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Or the truth as it exists.
Pain and pleasure are feelings felt.
It is true we all are dealt cards from a deck,
Whether or not the hand we get is accepted.
And...
Without questioning the appeal of ideals.
Although intuitively pain is rejected.
For most of us it is pleasure that is the objective.
Yet there are those who believe,
They have been chosen to receive most of it...
While denying others to get a taste,
The freedom of opportunity makes.
'Let them eat cake.
IF they can locate the baker.
Or...
Better yet.
Offer to throw to thwem money!
It heals all wounds inflicted.
That promises to quiet their wishes.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Healing Wounds
The wounds of flesh can heal by drugs and care;
Remove agents opposing healing act;
Excision by doctors is something rare;
Yet, nature heals most wounds with time and tact.
The wounds by words of mouth are slow to heal;
The damage caused is incredibly huge;
The pain and misery, we always feel;
In God, we ultimately take refuge.
The tongue can speak most cruel words that hurt;
The ‘bone-less mass’ can move like fox and snake;
It craftily produces lies like dirt;
Consoling words and sounds too, it can make!
Man hurts by words in ways unpredicted;
God heals the wounds of hearts, man-inflicted.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-10-2005
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wounds
Wounds sustained against wounds inflicted, hurt me.
Wounds inflicted against wounds sustained, sooth me.
Hurt breeds hurt and fight continues
12.11.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time Heals
If youre bleeding,
Then everyone can see youre bleeding
They can call for the doctor,
Wholl provide what the diagnosis says youre needing
Then hell take away your pain
But if your heart,
Your heart has been broken
And you dont wear it on your sleeve
No one can tell,
Your hell goes unspoken
But theres one thing you must believe
Time heals the wounds no one can see
Time heals the wounds that no one can see
If youre crying
Then everyone can see you crying
And they all sympathize
But it just doesnt matter
Though they may be trying,
They cant feel the hurt inside
You cant go on,
Youve gone to the limit
And your life seems to slip away
Youre on your own
Alone you must face it
And tomorrows so far away
You got to hold on baby
Got to give it time to heal
Time heals the wounds that no one can see
You must believe what they say is true
It dos wonders for ya, yeah, yeah
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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But the memory of war weighs undiminished upon the people's minds. That is because deeper than material wounds, moral wounds are smarting, inflicted by the so- called peace treaties.
quote by Hjalmar Schacht
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poetry.... (Bare Open Hand)
poetry does not pay the rent...
does not buy cars or houses,
does not sell stocks.
does not wear suits and ties,
does not barter, is not profitable,
cannot be bought or sold.
but poetry opens forbidden doors,
builds bridges in the darkness...
embraces the soul left alone.
pours balm on open wounds,
brings a mirror and the cost.
poetry asks questions that the soul whispers,
knows well the language of trees and rivers.
dances naked in the moonlight.
prays prayers we're afraid of...
poetry disarms the violent.
kisses, touches, makes love.
burns, burns, and burns....
feeds the hungry and heals the sick.
poetry sees beneath the skin,
takes off the cloak of religion,
and unleashes the spiritual.
breaks the glass, and unlocks chains.
poetry plows new ground,
and names each sacred moment.
listens, listens, and listens,
and extends a bare open hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My reason's why poetry is never devilish,
My reasons why poetry is never devilish,
My reason is that poetry made me realise knowledge of Imagination,
It is from the pleasure that express Human emotions,
If Man is from God then poetry is from man,
A man is a Spiritual being,
Existing with Infinite Knowledge,
Poetry is not supporting felonies,
Either way the great Prophet's recognised poetry,
Poetry can take away Indifference,
Create a spiritual man into Beauty of the soul,
My reason is that felonies is worser than writing a poem,
Fornication and gossip is much distinguished from Angelic Realm,
I think that Poetry hast better explanation,
In a World that is very Shallow in Spiritual Knowledge.
poem by Abdul Karim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Intentional
No matter what may be done or said,
When that action in time takes place...
Someone will feel left out instead.
Not because of the action,
Done or said.
But how it was related when instigated.
Whoever made it fun for one,
To berate another with a blurting tongue...
The day will come,
When a similar deed is repeated.
With a singing of a song sung,
Or a tune heard hummed.
With no exit to ignore it to escape or leave,
The perpetrator remembered...
Will then be seeking empathy.
That no one with heart and soul intact,
Will care to release to relieve.
To set one free from memories.
This Earth is not flat,
It looks as if round.
And rotates on an axis,
To return to a place of origin always found.
And that is a fact when one sits to think,
Of those thoughts trapped to sit cemented...
In intentional inequities inflicted to sting and meant!
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
What goes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Comes around...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
It is all quite intentional.
'Never accuse me again,
Of not having substance! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
'Never...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Accuse...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Me...
Inflicted to sting and meant!
Again! '
Inflicted to sting and meant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Into The Wilderness
Always there will be those,
Going out of their way as if chosen...
To inflict their wicked misdeeds upon others.
Only to arrive with feelings they discover,
Has left them to grieve wishing forgiveness.
Knowing...
Time has not come to heal their wounds.
And those who have been picked to be inflicted,
With wounds...know this.
Even attempts made trying to hide them,
Still sit not to be forgotten.
And the repeated visits with bitterness,
Sometimes may take them on long drives...
To 'trip' into the wilderness just to cry...alone.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Better a lie that heals than a truth that wounds.
Better a lie which heals than a truth which wounds.
All honor's wounds are self-inflicted.
quote by Andrew Carnegie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time heals all wounds, unless you pick at them.
quote by Shaun Alexander
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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