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The Giver Of Stars

Hold your soul open for my welcoming.
Let the quiet of your spirit bathe me
With its clear and rippled coolness,
That, loose-limbed and weary, I find rest,
Outstretched upon your peace, as on a bed of ivory.

Let the flickering flame of your soul play all about me,
That into my limbs may come the keenness of fire,
The life and joy of tongues of flame,
And, going out from you, tightly strung and in tune,
I may rouse the blear-eyed world,
And pour into it the beauty which you have begotten.

poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's Your Soul

I'm feeling the stress
I'm feeling the pressure
It's setting in
It's breaking me down
I don't know how much longer I can take it
I don't know how much more I can take
I'm seeing the end of myself
I'm seeing that this is all I got
Man I'm depressed
Man I cant do this

I'd never say it out loud, but this is too much
My friend are great they help me forget
I turn to my sins, to my addictions
It's turning me into an empty person
This pressure will break me
I won't say it out loud but I can't take it anymore
I won't say it out loud but this is true horror
I dress it up, I put on a smile, I deaden the pain for awhile
But it's all an act
The pain is quite real
I say I'm tired
And yeah I got no rest
I say I'm sleep deprived, and believe me I don't sleep
But even in my quiet hours...
There is no peace
I say I'm sleep deprived, but it doesn't matter how much I sleep
I'm still tired
It's a never ending tiredness
The feeling is wearing me out
Wearing me out
Until I'm just
Weary
There is no sleep in sleeping
There is no rest and resting
I can't find peace in inner peace
I can't find peace in outer peace
A vacation won't do
So I tell you

It's your soul
The tiredness
It's your soul
The weariness
It's your soul
The depression and longing for more
It's your soul
The brokenness and stress
It's your soul
Feeling like you can't do it
It's your soul
Feeling overwhelmed because it's all too much to handle
It's your soul
The reason you're restless even in times of rest is because
It's your soul

The tiredness and brokenness is in your soul
So let go for once
So let God for once
This problem is deep inside
And no matter how hard you try to hide
You need help
Because it's your soul
So let Jesus restore your soul, because that's rest
So let God give you peace, because He's the only one who can
So let the Holy Spirit comfort you, because He'll mend your soul
It's funny that we always look forward to this vacation or the next
It's funny that we think there's an end to the stress
It's funny that we think we're tired because we don't sleep
It's funny we don't realize we're lost sheep
Because the problem is our soul
Go to Jesus because He promises

'Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden with burden and I will give you rest...'

poem by David Knox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fusion Refraction

i will not be scorched
by the flame of another
i shall keep my fire
fueled only by the pure
kindling found deep
within the terrain
of my wooded home

the sun shall bring
enough light by day
and a torch well-lit
providing steady
footsteps tredding
the dark by night

[as I search for what
I cannot find or name]

no light save by the moon
on occassion when it
occassion finds
which reflects the sun bright
from yonder hemisphere
translating another's flame

that illumines my weary soul
with tongues & quills on fire
intermingling in a display
of fiery scathing sparks
and warm glowing rays
of gently wedded breaths

[to possess at last
what i have named & found]

poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flame Of Anger

in the darkness light appears
from the flame that burns inside
the flame burns brighter and stronger then ever
the flame of vengeance and destruction
it burns my soul to the core
how long will i be able to contain it
how much more can i take
before i loose myself in the flame

poem by Paddy Jansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Amaze Me

Sometimes you amaze me
You with your quiet strength
wisdom, insights
You inspire and excite me
Draw me into your world
so different, so new
Open my eyes, renew my faith
in myself
in you
in love and honesty and trust
tenderness inciting passion
Elemental yet elusive to me
before you
before us
Never thought my soul could hold so much
that my mind could wrap so tightly around an ideal
The spark, the flame, the muse of my heart
my here and now
Sublime pleasure has freed me
once caged, now soaring
A ray of light, a song on the breeze

poem by Gainor Ventresco Laney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chains

An hour since the sundown
The ghosts are creepin in
Are gathering around me
Like starlings in the wind
Dark shapes gather round
Voices like my brother's
Are whispering to me
But I don't know these others
Who want to set me free
Come home you're out of time
But the life cannot let go
It's a chain cuts across my soul
Anchoring in this world
I put my hand into the flame
Burning but I feel no pain
Don't speak, don't speak my name
Hold on to this life of chains
The door is standing open
But I'm too tired to be afraid
My whole life's in this moment
I've been fighting all the way
Just need a little more time
Cuz the life just can't let go
It's a chain cuts across my soul
Anchoring in this world
I put my hand into the flame
Burning but I feel no pain
Don't speak, don't speak my name
Hold on to this life of chains
Nah nah nah nah nah x6
I put my hand into the flame
Burning but I feel no pain
Don't speak, don't speak my name
Hold on to this life of chains
Chains...chains...chains...

song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Examination

Lo! from quiet skies
In through the window my Lord the Sun!
And my eyes
Were dazzled and drunk with the misty gold,
The golden glory that drowned and crowned me
Eddied and swayed through the room . . .
Around me,
To left and to right,
Hunched figures and old,
Dull blear-eyed scribbling fools, grew fair,
Ringed round and haloed with holy light.
Flame lit on their hair,
And their burning eyes grew young and wise,
Each as a God, or King of kings,
White-robed and bright
(Still scribbling all);
And a full tumultuous murmur of wings
Grew through the hall;
And I knew the white undying Fire,
And, through open portals,
Gyre on gyre,
Archangels and angels, adoring, bowing,
And a Face unshaded . . .
Till the light faded;
And they were but fools again, fools unknowing,
Still scribbling, blear-eyed and stolid immortals.

poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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