Sonnet- No Man Is Perfect
Which man, a perfect Being, calls himself?
When imperfect, the world seems naturally;
And more so when he is after more pelf;
And labels others, 'imperfect' freely.
All men are deficient in many ways,
Yet, point their fingers to the ones around;
They try to mask their own unsteady base;
Superior ones, they even try to hound.
But talents are God-given gifts to men;
In quantities, differing 'midst earthlings;
To -develop them, depends on our own ken;
None prevents you from wearing many rings.
Why blame others when you are blameworthy?
Why jealous be, when you are more ‘filthy’?
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
Imperfectly
Can I help it if Im not neat
If there were creeps before you
How can I help you if I am weak?
If I dont know how to help me
But I love you, I love you
Imperfect, imperfect, imperfectly
I love you imperfect, imperfect, imperfectly
Can I help it if Im high strung
If I was born with a sharp tongue
Will you marry me if I stay sweet?
If I am the one with the cold feet
I love you, I love you
Imperfect, imperfect, imperfectly
I love you imperfect, imperfect imperfectly
I love you imperfect, imperfect, imperfectly
Imperfectly, imperfectly, imperfectly, imperfectly
Imperfectly, imperfectly, imperfectly
song performed by by Veruca Salt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Love Is Not Perfect
My love is not perfect.
It does not flawlessly sail the seven seas
It clears no mount in single bound
No epic stuff this
My love is not perfect.
Threats may not be seen
Predators may be invited unwittingly
My love is not perfect.
It is often blind to dangerous flaws
It can be the staircase of a catastrophic fall
My love is not perfect.
It can hurt unknowingly
And injure me fatally
Yet this imperfect love
Brings forth my best 'me'
Without this love
I could not be.
This imperfect love is strength
For imperfect me.
8/9/2009
poem by Claude H Oliver II
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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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Sonnet: Mere Talents Aren’t Enough
The man with talents can’t always come first!
This world became imperfect aft man came;
Sometimes in life, water can’t quench one’s thirst;
If world’s gone bad, then all men are to blame.
Apart from talents, strategy matters!
All may not reach a ladder’s top at once;
No darning makes anew, cloth in tatters;
If bowling’s strong, you tend to get less runs.
You know your strengths and weaknesses in depth;
If you can’t win, you need not always cry;
Sometimes, we sleep in places yet unswept;
If poor, you choose the field in which you try.
While other things matter if you must win,
Nevertheless, we ought to avoid sin.
6-5-2001
poem by John Celes
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We're imperfect people trapped in an imperfect world until we get to that place beyond.
quote by Kathie Lee Gifford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Soul’s Gracile Feed
In life, I’ve met some persons who had played
Their earthly roles superbly well, I say;
Despite the world imperfect, they displayed
Exemplary standards by any day!
In life, I’ve met some, who’d frittered their lives,
Amassing wealth in easy ways but then,
They vanished soon like bees leaving their hives,
Without ev’r realizing God within!
In life, I’ve met a few human beings,
Who spent their time in service unto God,
Ignoring strife that hound many earthlings,
And brethren said, ‘Are not they looking odd? ’
Our earthly life is transient indeed;
Our duty prime is our soul’s gracile-feed!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-9-2008
poem by John Celes
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Mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You look better that way
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You look better that way
Are you my friend ?
Are you my plumber ?
Are you my God ?
What do you do ?
Wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
Complicated crushed up disappointed squirming angry thrusting stabbing regretting starving greedy human alien being, struggling down the street, up the alley, in the elevator, through the party, to the office, in the bedroom, on your way to the morgue. Bullshitting, lying, doing a good deed or feeling loved barely possible. Aware of insatiable demands of not a society all around you. Chunky frat boys in their shorts, pimps with old semite eyes, sex hoochies of the jungle, sensitive smart alec college graduates, critics fronting franticly in New York city, every body in L.A just plain licking ass or having it licked, irony in place of balls, balls in place of brains, brains in place of soul, where is the soul?, where is the love?, where am i?
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
Which mask are you ?
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
You're wearing a mask
which mask are you ?
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Jealous
The jealous.
Envious of others.
Insecure and bitter too.
Believing picking on someone will do...
To mask their emptiness.
But they wont confess it.
The jealous.
Use patheticness as a charm.
To engage 'and' alarm selected victims.
First choosing ways to nitpick their gifts.
Hoping this annoyance will get to them quick.
And it does the trick.
The jealous aren't happy!
They are mentally sick!
The jealous.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Have Written Too Many Imperfect Poems
I HAVE WRITTEN TOO MANY IMPERFECT POEMS
I have written too many imperfect poems
This is another one.
Years have gone by,
Where are the perfect poems?
A handful of true poems
And the poet does not die.
Where are mine?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Fact....
IF THERE be changes
about this and that
i will have all these and those
need i be like you
perfect
stainless steel
polished porcelain
telling the
world
that God has created us
all equal
and bestowed with all
beauty
that there be no change
that is needed?
what a thought
for one as beautiful as you
saying
there is nothing to change
everything is in place
everyone is
in itself
beautiful and then you
win
honestly
everyone is imperfect
and everyone has an inner voice
screaming
i want this changed
this is not the one i dream
and i agree
this is all imperfect and these must
be changed
if only there is a way
or a choice
honestly, there is no
choice
we are stones thrown
in a pavement
and all those who pass
and tread upon us
hardly notice
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Truths of My Life
No one is my enemy;
My sins and blunders cause my woes;
My iniquities turn my foes;
I blame myself squarely.
No one is my friend indeed;
Most people are mere actors good;
Never expect their help, I should;
They live in utter greed.
No one is my role-model;
I see just people imperfect;
And everyone has some defect;
The world is in pell-mell.
So, I must be just myself;
But let me try to be better;
Let me be good a trend-setter;
Let me not be for pelf.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-13-2005
poem by John Celes
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The saxophone is an imperfect instrument, especially the tenor and soprano, as far as intonation goes. The challenge is to sing on an imperfect instrument that is outside of your body.
God's Pefection
I'm often looked on as imperfect because I have a disability,
but I'm not.
By God's hands I was created.
By God's grace I did awake this morning.
By God's words I do live.
So even through by some human eyes I may seem imperfect
By God's eyes I am perfection.
Who Hurts Whom?
Hurt, is that lesson of life,
Perfect pool of Imperfects,
A kid may get hurt
Or may hurt its parents too
its parents may hurt
Or may hurt their kid too,
A brother may get hurt,
or he may hurt brothers and sisters too,
Sister gets hurt
Or she may hurt her brothers and sisters too,
Mother gets hurt or she my may hurt father too.
Father may get hurt Or may hurt mother too,
A friend gets hurt
Or may hurt his friend too!
A lover get hurts, or may hurt one's lover too,
Teacher may gets hurt
Or may hurt student too
Student gets hurt Or he may hurt his teacher too,
Life is a pool of Imperfects
And only Imperfects can perfect life,
And life is that greatest class room,
Where the greatest and perfect teacher teaches perfect lessons,
But life when teaches, we just close the chapter,
'saying it is our fate! '
Is it true that one has to hurt others to make his living?
Living a life, and make a Living aren't the differ?
People are determined to build life than live a life,
Where one may hurt others,
This the story of Buddha asking kisa Gouthami ' I will save your child, but bring handful of mustard from a home where death not entered! '
This is the story,
'I will heal your hurts, if you can bring some dust of a man's feet, whoever neither got hurt nor hurt others! '
Life a that teaches and hurt is that lesson,
Which shows the one who hurts is Imperfect than who gets hurt,
Both are still imperfect,
The one got hurt is more imperfect,
And he is the one who hurts himself,
by his desires and expectations,
He is the one who gives chance to others to hurt,
With his misunderstandings!
Hurt is the result of our own imperfection say those have seen and understood life in perfect!
God is that only perfect and he is out of life cycle,
And He can only be healer of all hurts!
Perfection can make us hurt free, but imperfection is the life,
Those who ant life let them adjust themself with imperfection of own first and with that of others,
What you say, is it perfect or imperfect? You please, decide and tell me!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Mortal Man Calls Himself Immortal!
There are some risks in all things that we do,
Be they evil/ righteous; earthly/ divine;
Rewards come; punishments threaten your way;
Ecstasy in some manner has some fine!
Whatever man decides has its own faults;
Whatever God denies has its blessings;
Some things man does, Providence halts;
Imperfect are the things done by earthlings!
Whatever Nature does is best by far;
Whatever man may plan have their hazards;
And yet, we don’t know why God made each star?
And in the same way, why are born the Bards?
Although God made man the best evolved mortal,
Alas! Man still calls himself immortal!
8-20-2003
poem by John Celes
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Talents Die Easily In Africa!
Oh talents, oh talents!
Talents do die easily in Africa;
But, talents are special gifts which,
Money cannot buy.
It is a special gift,
It is in you,
You don't even need a Higher Degree for them;
Talents are everywhere on this earth.
The talents of Africa do die very often,
Who is even ready to listen to them?
The true talents of the Africans go to the drain.
Like a rain on a train,
Like an early wake up call without a view;
Life is really so strange over here in Africa.
I have a dream!
But, who will listen?
My brain is with various talents but,
Who will help me with my dreams?
Talents, talents, talents! !
Africa turns to regress in this field while,
Others do progress!
Our talents can be useful,
It's time we give a helping hand;
Oh talents, oh talents!
It's time we listen to those who have them;
Cos', we are the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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As Far As My Eye Can See In My Body’s Senses
All the trees all their branches all of their leaves
The grass at the foot of the rocks and the houses en masse
Far off the sea that your eye bathes
These images of day after day
The vices the virtues so imperfect
The transparency of men passing among them by chance
And passing women breathed by your elegant obstinacies
Your obsessions in a heart of lead on virgin lips
The vices the virtues so imperfect
The likeness of looks of permission with eyes you conquer
The confusion of bodies wearinesses ardours
The imitation of words attitudes ideas
The vices the virtues so imperfect
Love is man incomplete
poem by Paul Eluard
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Measures must always in a progressive society be held superior to men, who are after all imperfect instruments, working for their fulfilment.
quote by Mohandas Gandhi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The world is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment, every sin already carries grace in it.
quote by Herman Hesse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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