Sonnet: Heaven 's Immaculate
How well it looks when combed, the hair of man!
The lawn that’s green and mowed quite recently!
The lovely plaited hair of a woman!
The furrowed soil made by tractor, gently;
How well it looks a macadamized road!
The field ready for harvest, weeds all plucked;
The crane's pulley-lifting a heavy load;
The man wearing a tie and with shirt tucked.
How well it looks, the body spick and span!
The tranquil mind whose thoughts are always clear;
The purified and sinless soul of man;
The human heart whose love is crystal-pure.
Heav'n- abode of God's immaculate;
To enter, souls must be stringently fit.
poem by John Celes
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Related quotes
If you refuse me once, and think again
If you refuse me once, and think again,
I will complain.
You are deceiv'd, love is no work of art,
It must be got and born,
Not made and worn,
By every one that hath a heart.
Or do you think they more than once can die,
Whom you deny?
Who tell you of a thousand deaths a day,
Like the old poets feign
And tell the pain
They met, but in the common way?
Or do you think 't too soon to yield,
And quit the field?
Nor is that right, they yield that first entreat;
Once one may crave for love,
But more would prove
This heart too little, that too great.
Oh that I were all soul, that I might prove
For you as fit a love
As you are for an angel; for I know,
None but pure spirits are fit loves for you.
You are all ethereal; there's in you no dross,
Nor any part that's gross.
Your coarsest part is like a curious lawn,
The vestal relics for a covering drawn.
Your other parts, part of the purest fire
That e'er Heav'n did inspire,
Makes every thought that is refin'd by it
A quintessence of goodness and of wit.
Thus have your raptures reach'd to that degree
In love's philosophy,
That you can figure to yourself a fire
Void of all heat, a love without desire.
Nor in divinity do you go less;
You think, and you profess,
That souls may have a plenitude of joy,
Although their bodies meet not to employ.
But I must needs confess, I do not find
The motions of my mind
So purified as yet, but at the best
My body claims in them an interest.
I hold that perfect joy makes all our parts
As joyful as our hearts.
Our senses tell us, if we please not them,
Our love is but a dotage or a dream.
How shall we then agree? you may descend,
But will not, to my end.
I fain would tune my fancy to your key,
But cannot reach to that obstructed way.
There rests but this, that whilst we sorrow here,
Our bodies may draw near;
And, when no more their joys they can extend,
Then let our souls begin where they did end.
poem by John Suckling
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Today... 'The Altogether Lovely One
Incomparably pure and unstained.
Full Deity in a body contained.
Immaculate in Your conception.
All beautiful beyond description.
God is manifest in human flesh.
So undefiled and so sinless.
Jesus Gods' Only Beloved Son.
Is the Altogether Lovely One.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
From one Soul of the Universe are all Souls derived... Of these Souls there are many changes, some into a more fortunate estate, and some quite contrary... Not all human souls but only the pious ones are divine. Once separated from the body, and after the struggle to acquire piety, which consists in knowing God and injuring none, such a soul becomes all intelligence. The impious soul, however, punishes itself by seeking a human body to enter into, for no other body can receive a human soul it cannot enter the body of an animal devoid of reason. Divine law preserves the human soul from such infamy... The soul passeth from form to form and the mansions of her pilgrimage are manifold. Thou puttest off thy bodies as raiment and as vesture dost thou fold them up. Thou art from old, O Soul of Man yea, thou art from everlasting.
quote by Hermes Trismegistus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heavy Load
Orbison/price
At times it seems too rough, things just drag me down
Its hard to find the strength to just one more round
When I need help, I know where to go
cos youre the best friend that I could ever know
Being taught the words from you .... from what is true
Someone to share the pain that Im going through
And its a heavy load that I bear and its a heavy crown that I wear
As I travel down this road, its a heavy load, its a heavy load
Its a heavy load that I bear and its a heavy crown that I wear
So help me one more time, its such an uphill climb
As I travel down this road, its a heavy load
Lord its a heavy load, lord its a heavy load, lord its a heavy load
Lord its a heavy load, lord its a heavy load....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gardens Season Of Dreams Alqaed/Burns (Cinquain)
OH.!
You tiny
dropp of dew
dampen its thirsty flowers
gently.
A
lovely face
in my memory
as delicate as a
doll.
Hair
so soft
to the touch
more smooth than finest
silk.
Eyes
so green
deep jade like
finest emeralds they would
fade.
When
you came
my blood danced
rivers of hot desires
flowed.
You
became my
body, face, death
my carnival of loving
words.
Be
a rain
falling gently in
the night of my
sleep.
You
will hear
my heart beats
calling out your lovely
name.
Leave
your hair
rest on my
chest, while you fall
asleep.
You
are my
home of love
the sparrow of my
dreams.
So
inhabit me
full of eagerness
I am the knight
seeking.
poem by Heather Burns
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Follow The Wind
Im so weary from holding this load
But its only , love for you, that I walk this lonely road
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
And the wind will take me hold before the cold
Evry stay I have counted
Each flower I have seen
But the place where Im going , theres no grass as green
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
And the wind will take me home where I can dream
In the hour I am lonely, youre love will be mine
I will stay in your arms dear, until comes the time
I must be on my way for my home is anywhere
I have no time to stay , I have no time to care
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair
(break)
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair
I must follow the wind , follow the wind
As the wind gently blows in my hair
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dog In Sweden
Iggy says "I wanna be your dog."
But I want you to be a demigod
Look at my bow wow sitting there
Sniffing scratching without a care
Once upon a lifetime peroxide hair
What a heavy load to bear
What a heavy load to bear
Alcohol, drugs and rock n' roll
Come on doggy doggy let's go for a stroll
Before and after human growl so foul
And now animal and left to howl
A dog in Sweden, a man's best friend
Remember all those trends you set
And now you are a housewive's pet
Sit down bad boy, don't bow wow wow
Drink this milk from the sacred cow
Look at my bow wow sitting there
Sniffing scratching without a care
Once upon a lifetime peroxide hair
What a heavy load to bear
What a heavy load to bear
What no meat?
My bloodthirsty little bow wow
Hypnotised
Another family tree
Remember?
20th Century VIP
You may have been a king
You may have been a queen
You may have been Nehru
I'm sure there were a few smutty little scenes
Smutty little scenes
Hey doggy doggy, hey doggy doggy
Hey doggy doggy, hey hey hey
What a heavy load to bear
What a heavy load to bear !!
song performed by by X-Ray Spex
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inner Peace
The morning in late autumn
misty and a little cold
much like the mind
slightly depressed and lone.
The landscape vague, unclear,
the earth seems pensive and gloomy
as it lies before me
like my life's november.
The rays of the rising sun
sweep away the morning mist,
all appear tranquil and bright.
My hopes with it return.
There goes the reaper
walking along the road
that leads to the paddy field,
trailing behind him is the gleaner.
I see(lying) on the courtyard floor
sheaves of paddy backed by the autumn sun
brown and a pale golden
and the soft and happy eyes of my father.
Standing beside him is my mother,
both beholding proudly the fruits of their toil,
father loved to be called son of the soil.
The pictures are still crystal clear,
only tucked away at other times
in some remote corner of my mind,
fountain of happiness, , when my heart is saddened
they are presented before the eyes.
As my heart bleeds
those happy autumns appear and disappear
just like my life's november
while I search for inner peace.
poem by Aimanu Begum
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I love my hair
I love my hair
I always toss it around in the air
As if without a care!
I love my hair
Once I caught the super hair bug
Caught it whilst I slept on an old rug
The super lice were playing scratch, scratch, and scratch
While my fingernails were playing catch, catch and catch
Finally my hair was shaven as there was no cure, no other drug
I wore my head on my shoulder for a while with a distasteful shrug
Hiding underneath a cap with obvious bald patches that seemed to match
I love my hair
Long, golden plaited and brown
Enough to move heads around in town
People just want to come near
And stare! Stare at me! Who is that alien from elsewhere?
My hair is beautifully plaited in strands
This kind of hair fashion is high in demand
So many different styles to experiment with and expand
Today a woman needs to look good, do you understand?
I talk to my hair with oils
I say today I need you to curl
And when I style you,
Stay in place, do not spoil!
I wash my hair twice a day
Maybe when I am old, it would go grey
But for now the beauty is here to stay
I hope so, I definitely pray!
Beware all, take care
I love my hair, I love my hair
Don’t touch! But you can stare
You can stare at how I wear
My beautiful hair!
Try and out-do me if you dare!
I love my hair
I like to show it off
Around me do not sneeze or cough
Or with you I can be horribly tough
Around me do not sneeze or cough
If you don’t want to know the meaning of rough
I mean it, this isn’t a bluff!
I love my hair!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Aish is all graceful
Be in ultra modern jeans, with hair cropped,
Be in curves with a bikini, with hair cascading,
Be in swimming suit, with hair dripping,
Be in top and middy, with hair thrown back,
Be in velvet chudidhar, with hair hiding the cheeks,
Be in saree and blouse, with hair loosely knotted,
Be with chemise on breasts, with hair permed and ornamented,
Be on cotton saree, with hair made to bun,
Be in half saree and blouse, with hair tightly plaited,
Or be in any fashion that comes into being,
The actress Aish is blooming and beaming,
What not is the fashion or style for Aish, all the grace?
19.10.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Long Black Road
They used to tell me boy you aint goin nowhere
With your cheap guitar and your big long hair
You gotta realize all your responsibilities
You gotta get out to work and face reality
You gotta get up in the morning take your heavy load
And you gotta keep goin down the long black road
So I drifted for a while down the road to ruin
I couldnt find my way I didnt know what I was doin
I saw a lot of people coming back the other way
So I kept on goin when I heard them say
You gotta get up in the morning take your heavy load
And you gotta keep goin down the long black road
I made a lot of money I was makin quite a mess
But they all told me money wouldnt bring me happiness
You gotta work like a man in a real mans life
Youre gonna have to take all the trouble and strife
You gotta get up in the morning take your heavy load
And you gotta keep goin down the long black road
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Human Skin Has Hair
Most women try to have least body-hair,
By cumbersome methods and waste of time;
The human skin, hair follicles does bear,
That will remain, depending on each clime.
Most men too try to shave off facial hair,
Or grow it excessively long, perhaps!
But doing both involves time, money, care,
Or lead to nasty gashes as mishaps.
If mankind did not come from the hairy Apes,
To stay hair-free seems unnatural truly;
But God gave human beings Hairy drapes,
The real cause is still a mystery.
So, strike a balance somewhere, somehow, man!
But do those things that don’t reduce live-span.
8-14-2002
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Old Man's Saddest Story
We sat about the fireplace listening to the old man's tales
Of the youthful years of life he spent in lovely Alder Vale
He told some happy stories but he told some sad one's too
And the saddest story that he told I will relate to you.
'Twas the story of young Joaney Ryan who died whilst in her prime
When the fruits were ripe for picking in September's harvest time
She died at twenty three years old the valley beauty queen
And a fairer maid since her time the old man has not seen.
She was the most beautiful maid the old man ever knew
With sheeny hair of raven black and sparkling eyes of blue
Yet for all of her splendid beauty she did not show conceit
A better mannered girl than her no man could wish to meet.
Beauty it can take a woman quite a long, long way
But beauty quickly withers like the flowers that bloom in May,
You cannot judge a woman by her beauty or her dress
You can only judge a woman by the manner she possess.
He must have loved this lovely maid he must have loved her so
Who died in September forty six years ago
For as he told her story a tear showed in each eye
And it seemed quite clear to all of us that he was near to cry.
She died in a hospital this lady like woman
From Leuchaemia a disease that greatly curtail life's span
On the tenth day of September her remains were put to earth
Twenty three years and thirty six days from the day of her birth.
In each human's life story there is some share of woe
And the old man's saddest thoughts are of a maid he used to know
Who died of Leuchaemia whilst only in her prime
When the fruits were ripe for picking in September's harvest time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dear Internet Ann!
You are someone very special;
I’m glad you are at least real;
’Tis nice that you aren’t virtual;
You are a blogging, good angel!
I don’t know how you knew of me;
I don’t know how you came so sly;
But I know you are very good;
I hope to see you if I could!
Your reading habit had found me,
Your heart allured by poesy;
You have a unique heart truly,
And candid mind with thoughts, shiny.
I see the love that comes from you;
I see the things you nicely do;
What brings you here, I do not know;
I wish you were some fairy, Oh!
You have a special way with souls;
You have in life some lovely goals;
How nice to see your extra roles!
I love to see your divine doles!
I wish I knew you in person;
But I can’t cite any reason;
This year’s Christmas season is on-
A wintry cold, without much sun.
Help me make world, a better place,
For future of the human race;
I wish to change its sad, mad face,
And help some come out of life’s maze!
A little while ago, we’re born;
And rapidly, we turned adults;
Man’s only planet, we adorn,
Despite our strife, suffering, insults!
I see the world’s in downward trend;
I’m happy having you as friend;
And soon, this world for all must end;
On human strength, we can’t depend.
God made each one of us with love;
He welcomes all to Heav’n above;
He wants each one, his mettle prove;
Before to His abode, we move.
Fondly dedicated to dear Ann, with love
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-01-2007
poem by John Celes
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Rope hair woman
Rope hair woman
Where you’re off to tonight
Rope hair woman
You’re lookin’ out of sight
O rope hair woman
I love with all my might
Rope hair woman if you could if you can
Let me be your dread lock man.
Dread lock man
Can you understand
That a rope hair woman
Does all that she can
To move you to that sexual point
Better then your hand
O rope hair woman
Here is my plain
Rope hair woman I will give
Up my womanly man
O rope hair woman
The world can understand
That you want a dread lock man.
poem by David E. Patton
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Casual Relationship
you ride in a bus
on a long trip to Pagadian
beside you is a woman with long black hair
pink blouse, not wearing a bra,
juicy lips, smooth skin,
perfumed
just the two of you
and it rains
heavily and the bus speeds its
way climbing steep roads
then her head rests on
your chest
she must be tired
your heart beats faster
something in your body
grows
you do not want this journey
to end
you caress her hair
she wakes up
and smiles
and then you kiss
at the terminal she rushes
to the road where a black car is waiting
she waves her hand
bidding goodbye
just that.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Terrapin
==============================
Smashing Pumpkins - Terrapin
==============================
I really love you, and I mean you,
The star above you, crystal blue
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
I wouldn't see you, and I love to,
I fly above you, yes I do,
Well, oh baby my hair's on end about you
Floating, bumping, noses dodge a tooth
The fins a luminous
Fangs all 'round the clown is dark
Below the boulders hiding
All the sunlight's good for us
Cause we're the fishes, and all we do
The move about is all we do
Well oh baby my hair's on end about you
I really love you, and I mean you,
The star above you, crystal blue
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
Well, oh baby, my hair's on end about you
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Perfect Girl
Maybe I will have to wait through aeons
to find her, to find the perfect girl
whose feelings reach out to me
softer than the fluttering of any butterfly
whose voice is crystal clear with an own loveliness
and at times she dwells in my dreams
walking at times covered in a white cloak
with slim feet and pearly white toes.
I have heard her sweet laughter
falling softly as snow
but covering me in a kind of warmth
that delights, that at times are amusing
at other times brings sheer tranquillity
and if she’s human or something of the divine
I do not really know
only that she is beyond beautiful
One night suddenly she appeared
in another kind of dream
looked straight at me through her veil
her countenance had pure perfection
a kind of untouched innocence
but it was a sheer mystery
as her gaze had a kind of lust, a kind of longing
and it was clear that she know men
probably had made love to many of them
and as she lifted her veil
her eyes were the colour of the sea
but were ever changing in their hue
they were sometimes green, sometimes grey
and at times blue
Her hair was almost onyx black
and streamed down lustrous
streamed down right to her waist
glittering in a blue-black hue
and I was almost thunder struck
as she stepped out of her cloak
and I saw her sublime body
in every perfect line
the contours of her magnificent breasts,
her sleek belly
with its triangular thatch of dark hair
and she looked somewhat ethereal,
sublimely serene
and lovely beyond words
and it felt if I had waited my whole life
just to see her face
with its dimples, her narrow straight nose,
her full soft lips
and now she was displaying
her whole body in sheer nakedness.
I have known many women
have loved some
maybe beyond what love should be
and in reality
she remains to me a mystery
an ethereal being
that visits me in dream after dream
poem by Gert Strydom
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Jacky
A cheerful heart is a sound medicine to your soul,
But a downcasted spirit dries up the bones of your body!
So Jacky, have no anxiety of anything.
Be very wise! For, a tranquil mind gives life to the flesh;
And i am here to love you for what you are.
The ardent of life is of spiritual joy and,
I am painting the walls of love with you in my mind;
So try to listen to my muse,
For it with emotions and passions.
You are the ingredient of my love and i want you around me,
But enter into the world so sweet with a cheerful heart;
For the soul of man should be guided with love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Lift Me Up Like You've Plucked a Buttercup
When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo
Many in fits can't handle what they get.
And they seek partnerships...
That end in arguments,
Gone ballistic.
Left in realistic lethal pieces.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
Just leave don't mention...
Any attitude you've got,
That's dropped you mopin'!
Take a little whiff of me I'll free you easy.
I'm that destiny you need.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
When you come around finding you have found,
You've settled down.
With slowed jets ready to quit your lippin'
And prepared to sit and begin to listen'...
You've done shifted from a drifter position.
And it's there to be gripped!
All that life has blessed you with!
ooo-ooo
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
ooo-ooo
Just Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been sneezing.
Lift me up!
Like you've plucked a buttercup,
From your weaving...
Through the weeds you've been breathing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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