Loves Illusion
True love is an illusion
For you look at imperfection
And only see
PERFECTION
poem by David Kush
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Related quotes
Imperfections, Imperfection
Imperfections
Imperfection
Separating us all from
Perfection
Imperfections
Imperf ection
I'll never be perfect
Neither will you
Imperfections
Imperfection
You can't change everything
About the way you look
Imperfections
Imperfection
You can't change everything
About your personality
Imperfections
Imperfection
But, you can work on those things
Change little things
Instead of worrying about all the things
Imperfections
Imperfection
Never completely gone
It's what makes us human
poem by Autumn Winds
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Self-portrait
i'm imperfection incarnate
but deep down my imperfection
is concealed some perfection
30dec2009
13.32hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Aim at perfection, be satisfied with excellence
Aim at perfection
But be satisfied with excellence
As absolute perfection is
Unattainable
We say in science
Absolute zero is unattainable
Perfection means zero defects
In the product or outcome
And it means zero deviation
In the process and systems employed
While excellence in performance is
Being ahead of most of others
With regard to process and
Quality of the product
And this is achievable
It is well known and established that
Imperfection and randomness
Are the essence of survival
And the nature has all its biodiversity
Because of imperfection and
Deviation from the norms
Insistence on perfection
May lead to failures
And likely win you more foes than friends
You may even leave a scar in the hearts of
Your own people and friends
If you zero in on perfection only
The fact remains
There is no perfected art
There is no perfected process
There is no perfected write
All await your touch
And improvement therefrom
You do not compromise either
As you will be struggling to
Excel all others
Target at the best
Arrive at the best possible
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Imperfection
There’s something to be said
for imperfection
Something to be praised
in things cracked and crazed
For there’s something unsettled
That makes me feel nettled
And something in perfection
That leaves me dismayed
Give me a nick
on the lip of my cup
Give me bird poo
on my car
Give me a rip,
a tear or a stain
I’m perfectly happy
With imperfection so far
poem by David Whalen
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The Woman at the Crossroad Who Laughed
As I walked up the pavement, up the slight hill
to the traffic lights at the crossroads outside the station,
I saw her waiting to cross.
Or rather, I saw first, her laugh..
She held the hand of her son
as she exchanged words with a passing friend
and laughed..
and what I saw in her eyes, her whole face,
as she laughed, was that as she laughed -
(did she know this? How could I tell her, a stranger?
Lady, lady, at the crossroad of our lives,
I’m writing this poem for you now…)
as she laughed, while she laughed,
I saw that she was in touch, the whole of her,
with her deepest self – just that… all that…
and as I saw that self, which was
(Lady, are you reading this?)
the perfection of perfection, all that’s perfect…
it was as if – no, it was just so –
her self looked at me, and so
the perfect looked at the perfect;
herself and mine together laughed,
laughed at imperfection
and as the perfect looked, it saw perfection
spreading through my eyes from our shared self
so that her son was perfect; and her friend was perfect;
and all around us, every they and it were perfect..
(Lady, Lady, at the Cross’s foot,
was it like this for You?)
the light turned green. And we were free
to cross the road; and
free to live; and
free to laugh away illusion; and
free to be ourselves; forever,
in that time which is forever.
Lady, by my faith, this by my hand;
and with my life I do yet swear
upon my life, this to be true;
Lady, hear, in this my orison,
there are no sins
to be remembered.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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How the Light's let In (An imperfect poem)
Everything lacks perfection
In the smallest particle there’s a flaw
Imperfection is our protection
Imperfection’s an immutable law
There’s a tiny crack in everything
But tis how the light’s let in
There exists no perfect circle
An impossibility, a linear line
Nor persists a faultless square
Nor a truly enlightened mind
Yet.. There’s a tiny crack in everything
And tis how the light’s let in
There’s no such thing as perfection
There’s no such condition as ‘just right’
No such thing as exact recollection
No such thing as ‘perfect sight’
there’s a tiny crack in everything
No matter how wide or thin
It’s the flaw that keeps the dark without
And tis how the light’s let in
poem by David Whalen
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Finding Perfection..Is It Death?
Anyone who has sought this has failed
Some even died trying
Can't you see?
It's just not there, no such thing exists
It has gone extinct when the world was born
They are all looking in the wrong places
Searching for something unheard of
No one deserves it, can find it, and can earn it
There's only one way to acheive it
Life's basic principle..is imperfection
And anyone seeking perfection
Shouldn't be breathing
Death is perfection
But hey, death is the worst thing, right?
So death cannot be perfection
The irony of it all..
poem by Candy Lemons
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Perfection itself is imperfection.
quote by Vladimir Horowitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is the very perfection of a man, to find out his own imperfection.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This Belief Of Coming And Going
since i have not
found true love
since i have not
tasted the perfect
flavor of the kiss
i wish that death
comes earlier and
i promise myself that
i will be back again
in another body
searching for the
soul mate
that perfect kiss
that love that sends
me to the
perfection of my
being
and when this happens
i shall wish death again
with another promise
that i will never be
back
in this human form
again
for i am tired of
this pain
i am tired of this
longing
this imperfection that
makes me
want and crave
for more
this eternal damnation
of dissatisfaction
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Perfect Blame
If I write the perfect poem
then my creation
mocks me
because it is perfect
and I know I am not.
The imperfect poem
is better for me
yet perfection
haunts
and I continue to strive
for its outlines
even as I concede
imperfection's continence
is more like me.
It may be I have to concede
that I and all of us are perfect
as we are inside
but once perfection moves outside my skin
the world taints it
with its imperfections
and I have to take the blame.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Psalm 119 part 7
Imperfection of nature, and perfection of scripture.
ver. 96, paraphrased.
Let all the heathen writers join
To form one perfect book;
Great God! if once compared with thine,
How mean their writings look!
Not the most perfect rules they gave
Could show one sin forgiv'n,
Nor lead a step beyond the grave;
But thine conduct to heav'n.
I've seen an end to what we call
Perfection here below;
How short the powers of nature fall,
And can no further go!
Yet men would fain be just with God
By works their hands have wrought;
But thy commands, exceeding broad,
Extend to every thought.
In vain we boast perfection here,
While sin defiles our frame,
And sinks our virtues down so far,
They scarce deserve the name.
Our faith, and love, and every grace,
Fall far below thy word;
But perfect truth and righteousness
Dwell only with the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Nature Needs Privacy
Imperfection is the reality.
Perfection is the artificial.
Leave the nature to address itself.
It desperately needs privacy.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The poet and poetess
(a poetical exercise with Menime Soul)
The poet:
Oh..is it just a strange illusion..?
I feel love knocking on my door.
I know..and this is my confession..
I always loved you from my core.
The poetess:
My love is like a darkness fire
It's like a subconscious dream
It burns to kill any desire
Even you hate me and you scream
But I'll make you be completely mine
And you will feel so much alive
And when in dawn the sun will shine
you'll be yourself and you'll survive.
The poet:
Oh great..this is not an illusion.
This is love in its perfection.
Hard to believe but I know my dear..
This is true love's resurrection.
The poetess:
My love for you is complete and strong
I feel we met in other life
And love of a life time is one song
We sing it as husband and wife.
The poet:
I waited my whole life for this night
No matter how cold it is out
You changed my day, you're the dawn of light
Your love keeps me warm, it's no doubt.
The poetess:
When we can feel our love inside
And maybe it is more than love
It's our everything, it's our flood tide
A new world of time, a rock dove.
And I feel this need deeply within
And our dawn entwining the souls
By inspiring breath and touching skin
At the moment we become whole.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Tempered Perfection
It was God's greatest gift
'Imperfection'
something God does lack
But in his image
we stand
imperfect
and in the
'unification'
of the perfect
and the imperfect
'tempered Perfection
poem by Midnights Voice
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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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Love's illusion
You are a dream illusion of my reality,
You are the illusion of my dreams,
You are an illusion.
I try to live in dreams,
You see,
Dreams are my reality,
But don't be worried, my love,
They will disappear
Like bubbles
In the air,
Without leaving
Any trace in my memory.
They can form the illusion
Of the ideal perfect love,
More fragile
Than anything I know.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Love
Sufferin' night and day
People all around me crying
Enough--what's the use
We don't even feel like trying
Hatred, doubt, and fear
It's not the way toward the solution
There must be a way
To be free from all illusion
Love
Oh, love
All we need is love
History loudly claims
That we never learn our lesson
We kill one another
We put the blame on greed and passion
Wise men calmly say
Every man shall reach perfection
If we help each other
We will reach our destination
Love
Oh, love
All we need is love
Repeat chorus once more
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Primordial One
The Primordial One is immanent, while He’s never transcendent
And this existent world, at the beginning, was only His vision.
The Lord has Being to create his vision-world without lightweight
For this real world of Becoming, with His meticulous precision.
At the beginning, we were His imagination; we were a reason for creation
And, only for being with Him, He made us, in time, to become so real.
Tower of Babel wasn’t an illusion, when people suffered tongues confusion,
God isn’t an illusion in our perfection, when His plans He wants to reveal.
We are in our Apollinian illusion, when we think that God means confusion
And our own perfectionism we try to reach in the mean time.
But in the reality of our Apollinian confusion, God is no longer an illusion.
In this ache of Being and in this agony of Becoming, He’s sublime.
To reach our perfection we sing a hymn, we need to be with Him,
Because when we are not with Him, we are in the illusion of Being.
Without transmogrifying us, to transfigure Him, sometimes, we have a whim,
Because we need to understand our illusory own perfection in wellbeing.
We try to put ourselves in His place, in order to understand His grace
We need the Dionysian illusion of Being to experience the world we know.
In both Dionysian and Apolllinian illusions, we jump to our conclusions.
We are illusory Primordial Beings creating our Apollinian powerful show.
I am this person staring back from His mirror at me, I want existent to be.
I want to identify this image with myself and to realize who I really am.
Because of my sins I lost my serenity, I have a sense of my mistaken identity.
I was His dream, I am His child and for saving me He sent me His lamb.
Everyone is dreaming, but it seems that no one really believes in dreams.
One by one we need to wake up out of our own illusions of self.
The world of minds is the God's mental projection, it has interconnection.
Without this major pervasive reality, the world is not existent in itself.
The sufferings of people can be for some an illusory space, having no grace,
And they live in their own world of solely material realities without restricts.
Others believe in the world, which is non-physical and it's essentially spiritual,
They need a mental, spiritual and moral dimension to life, without conflicts.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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The Illusion Of Power
What is it that turns you on to the illusion of power,
This thing that grabs you by the heart and makes you want to tear things down.
There is no reason why I should need all this power, but if you cross me now,
Im gonna tear your whole world down.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
I cant get the emotional thing straight in my head,
Everything I love dies too soon, or is already dead.
Dont stand too close I spit and breathe fire,
Anything Ive got now you cannot desire.
You want to be my friend, I promise you nothing.
Nothing I can give you, nothing I can do for you,
Im being chased by the sins of my past and its killing me now,
Killing me now.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
The illusion of power, its already set signed and sealed,
The illusion of power.
Fool, youre caught in a complex catacomb of your own inadequcies and pitiful weaknesses,
Your soul secretes insecurity.
So you live on the reflection side of the mirror; youre terrified of true power.
You fear
I can tell you stories of my
Shaded past and I can drag you down into the depths of my soul.
The illusion of power, things I feel, seem so real,
The illusion of power.
The illusion of power, its already set signed and sealed,
The illusion of power.
Why dont you come closer, promise a story I will tell, yeah,
Ill save you from your dreams, yeah
Ill save you from your dreams.
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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