Sonnet: My Second Love
I am not married to the Muse in me!
My pleasant past-time is Poesy now;
My second love in whom I delve freely,
And will achieve soon dizzy heights somehow.
My computer-like brain has many words,
That flow in an automatic fashion;
I waste not time with the rest of the herds;
I think a lot with logic and reason.
My heart is tending nearer to my God,
Who gave talent new called Poetry;
In all my work, I’ve tried to praise the Lord;
My labor will be rewarded surely.
Like mist, it came and settled as dew-drops,
Reflecting life and world, giving men props.
6-18-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Talent Fights Talent, Ego Fights Ego
God is supreme, creation of people! !
Supreme people create god supreme!
Where is the beginning and end of the logic?
Mind breaks, in heart fear creates!
Does supreme man create mind, heart and fear?
Spontaneous, natural and automatic! !
Talent breaks talent, logic devours logic!
One talent creates the dyke
How to demolish it, is busy working mine
Everything is within the mind, nothing is out side it!
People is the supreme, you say the truth!
I am the supreme working to make it untruth.
Really! really! things are spontaneous, natural and automatic!
Ego fights ego, talent fights talent, logic devours logic!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Time Is Most Precious
The time given by God is most precious;
One can’t afford to waste by any means;
Yet, God has been to everyone gracious;
He watches always all the earthly scenes.
There is no time to feel jealous or fight;
There is no time to waste in gambling games;
There is no time to sleep enough at night;
There is no time to achieve many aims.
There is no time to love your neighbor/hate;
There is no time to wonder why or find;
There is no time to earn enough or mate;
There is no time to work or rest your mind.
So, make the best use of your precious time;
Love God, His creatures: make your life sublime.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet-Time is Most Precious
The time given by god is most precious;
One can’t afford to waste by any means;
Yet, God has been to everyone gracious;
He watches always all the earthly scenes.
There is no time to feel jealous or fight;
There is no time to waste in gambling games;
There is no time to sleep enough at night;
There is no time to achieve many aims.
There is no time to love your neighbor/ hate;
There is no time to wonder why or find;
There is no time to earn enough or mate;
There is no time to work or rest your mind.
So, make the best use of your precious time;
Love God, His creatures; make your life sublime.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It All Burn
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
The broken hearted are departing.
Setting sail for a new found trust.
I don't blame you, I've just had enough.
Trying to cross the divide.
Trying to see eye to eye.
But the flames just carry to high.
Their might be clearing in the sky but I can't find it.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
Being sucked down in the turmoil at the gates of hell.
I can still hear all those cross words.
As if I can make this work.
I've been down this road before.
I know where it leads.
I know what the seeds grow,
I know you will reap what I sew.
Oh no, no no no no.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
I was once an open door.
But now that is closed.
Can you feel the coldness of the frigid ice.
That's my heart.
It no long bleeds.
Not for you.
Not ever again.
With all the discontent as you keep trying.
Still I'm not moved.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
I made my sacrifices.
Wasted as the blame.
Are you going to do the same.
Follow suit, follow the leader.
I'm no leader of yours.
I never held your cure.
Deny it and they want so bad.
Till it is what they can have,
Then it becomes dull.
A lust upon the soul.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
now I'm giving up on you.
now I'm giving up on you.
now I'm giving up on you.
I'm sorry but the choice is mine.
Not like last time.
You took me down to the ground.
Kicked and spat at me in my rigid face.
Oh how I wish it would have erased every thought of you.
But the heart drifts and the mind wonders.
That becomes our number one blunder.
A calamity marked by thunder.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
A loss is a loss.
No matter how you word it.
Put it in a big captions on it if you want.
You have become so distant.
An after thought of things from the past and things that didn't last.
It wasn't that I took things to fast.
As embers burns slow after the flames die down.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
Ashes float down like rain.
These are my memories of you.
These were my promises broken and stolen.
As if I could be that super man.
Super human abilities that melt you away.
So sorry but that just not me.
You say you loved me.
I say when I must of miss it.
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
And now I'm giving up on you
And now I'm giving up on you
And now I'm giving up on you
And I can no longer afford to waste time.
Riding the waves of premonitions.
Maybe your right, maybe your wrong.
I no longer care.
You gave up on me long ago.
And now I'm giving up on you.
So just let it all burn.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drops Of Poetry
Drops of Poetry,
on my mind,
soaking in memories,
of things I remember,
of long ago.
Pouring down drops
on to my heart, releasing
my inner thoughts,
from this soul I have,
to write things that
must be told,
love that escaped
from my life, never
more to be seen.
Hurt, tears, broken
dreams torn away
from me, like a falling
star that becomes
just dust in the air.
Drops of Poetry so
clear is it now,
my body so wet,
from these drops
of poetry that stands,
all around me,
in the mist that
i now see,
my whole body
has been cleansed,
from all of these
drops of poetry.
wrote 3-15-07
On Looking Back Upon My Poesy's Past!
For long a time, I've travelled by this road!
For quite some years, I'd taken poesy's wings;
For hours on end, I struggled with my pen;
A lifetime's work is already now writ!
I did not start expecting great rewards;
I do not hanker for any awards;
I know I'm one among the well-known bards;
My accolades are not yet in my cards!
Many a thing, we do for love of it;
Some things we do better, for we are fit;
Most things in life don't duly get lime-lit;
Nevertheless, we carry on by wit!
But seasons ought to change as time goes on;
It is not good to have always the sun;
Some things in life remain for long half-done;
But pride is one thing we must always shun!
Good poetry must guide the future men;
Good poetry must make the earth, heaven;
Good poetry must kindle heart and ken;
When readers read them, they must say, ‘amen! '
I have done well despite my struggles past;
This earthly span may not for longer last;
My ship of poesy has now a mast;
But I have reached the ocean very vast!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The True Meaning of Poetry!
What is the true
meaning of poetry?
Is it rhyming
words together?
Is it about love?
Is it about
impressing?
No, unlike some,
I have discovered the,
true meaning of poetry!
Poetry is the feelings in your heart!
It's really just your heart on paper!
Poetry can be about anything really,
Anything at all! It can have a certain theme,
Like shoes, a talent, a fantasy, love,
World issues, personal issues, history,
Past events, important things!
Poems can mean nothing,
But they can also mean the
World to any one! You just
Never know! Poetry is a way
For people to express them-
Selves. Ex-addicts sometimes
Use poetry to help them when they
Are craving their old addictions.
Like I said, poetry can mean
Nothing to one person,
But mean the world to another!
poem by Rhiannon Parvin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am the supreme!
Infinity! Very funny!
No ends, no starts!
Mathematical, concrete logic!
Why not the creator If the creation is automatic?
Talent breaks talent, logic devours logic!
God is the creation of people!
Man is the supreme, not the god! !
You are the human, create this notion.
I had demolished it being a supreme! !
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Only From Him
He is very good indeed to me, as only Jesus Christ can be,
He is Creator and Sustainer of, everything, and from above,
From His everlasting Throne, where He cares for all His own,
Seated at The Father’s side, with Authority not to be denied.
All praise is due to Him, who saved me from a world of sin,
Granting a mortal sinner like me, new life above for eternity,
While giving me a spiritual birth, to live anew upon the earth,
Giving me all reason to praise, The Lord above all my days.
Leading me out of the night, into my Savior’s Blessed Light,
Leaving me The Word of Life, to start living for Jesus Christ,
Which is what I need to begin, life down here apart from sin,
All this received by His Grace, that I discover in every place.
And His Grace is just a start, as Christ now lives in my heart.
Christ gives to me true joy within, as my Lord and my friend,
So as other friends may leave, to my Lord I’ll always cleave,
For from this joy in my heart, is His peace that won’t depart.
And this joy within will extend, into a time which has no end,
With an eternity ahead for us, who in Christ, place their trust.
Only from The Lord God above, can we receive such a love,
From His One and Only Son, with enough love for everyone.
(Copyright ©03/2008)
Man Or Machine
Auto, bus, walking and sweating dermis,
somehow on time I reach my office.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
breakfast time, toast, butter and tea glass,
hurriedly I eat, unaware it may appear boorish and crass.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
lunch time, dosa containing rice, dal and yeast,
the way I eat can put to shame any wild beast.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
till evening, I am tired, drowsy and dozy
but I skip the plan to go outside to have some tea.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
My head aches, my eye burns
but I continue work amidst yawns.
work needs to be finished on time so I sit infront of computer.
Just before logout, I work with great pace,
with time I contest, compete and race.
work needs to be finished on time so a computer sits infront of computer.
Copyright reserved by the author
poem by Md. Asadullah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Why Waste …?
Why waste your voice, extolling men on earth,
Who don’t deserve the smallest praise, you give?
Why waste your life in earthly aims since birth,
When there are better things for which to live?
Why waste your talents, earning name and fame,
When nothing we can take back when we die?
Why waste your precious days in acts of shame,
When we can thank the Lord and God, Most High?
Why waste your labor, building things that break,
When you can share the love of God with all?
Why waste your life in taking risks to make
One skyscraper, that must anytime fall?
Why waste God-given time in sin and vice,
When God expects us to remain soul-wise?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-9-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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her name starts with an F...
AT That time she only knew love
nothing below or above it
all love, nothing about the future
nothing to take, but all
everything to give but the guy
said he is not prepared and
so she had no choice
but an abortion, her first baby should have
been
theirs.....
The Chinese man married another
she was devastated, but she must move on with her life
she said
and to a man where there was no love
she gave herself
got pregnant but the loveless marriage
like those marriages
did not last.....
She is all alone
her baby turned into a man
time flies so quickly
he became a nurse
and he called her
that he loves her that much
one time
when he assisted a woman in labor
'it is not easy to become a mother'
In one party she met the man he first loved
broken too
with a sickly wife
a failing kidney
and they had no child....
'Do not say any word, for i am blue'
Things do not work perfectly for love
love brings its own sorrows
and love
becomes too beautiful
always
to remember....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waste My Time
[Verse 1]
I gave you all my love
It was never enough
You took for granted
That I cared so very much
I made your house a home
Please tell me why you did me wrong
[Hook]
Why do I waste my time on you
Giving you loving that you don't deserve
And if I had the chance to think it through
I probably wouldn't waste my time on you
[Hook (Repeat)]
[Verse 2]
I let you be a man
And still wanna front
I even cleaned your ash tray
When you rolled them up
But now you think
Somebody's love is as good as mine
I can't think of no reason
But boy you must be blind
[Hook]
Why do I waste my time on you
Giving you love that you don't deserve
And if I had the chance to think it through
I probably wouldn't waste my time on you
[Hook (Repeat)]
[Bridge]
Now I see the light
It shines so bright
'Cause I know I'll find a man
Who will treat me right
song performed by by Blu Cantrell from So Blu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Gave Me A Mountain
(words & music by marty robbins)
Born in the heat of the desert
My mother died giving me life
Deprived of the love of a father
Blamed for the loss of his wife
You know lord Ive been in a prison
For something that I never done
Its been one hill after another
Ive climbed them all one by one
But this time, lord you gave me a mountain
A mountain you know I may never climb
It isnt just a hill any longer
You gave me a mountain this time
My woman got tired of heartaches
Tired of the grief and the strife
So tired of working for nothing
Just tired of being my wife
She took my one ray of sunshine
She took my pride and my joy
She took my reason for living
She took my small baby boy
But this time, lord you gave me a mountain
A mountain you know I may never climb
It isnt just a hill any longer
You gave me a mountain this time
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bodyguard II
My mind is very sweet,
And my words will touch you forever;
You seem to be very lovely on this love,
And, we do have something in common.
I am married with a kid ans,
I do have something to tell you;
For, you need my words to grow up in this society of hate.
Enter into the world so sweet that muses!
With the muse of love that will surely expose your nakedness;
For, i am the one to show you the way.
Find a way to make time for my love,
For, i am the sweetest thing in your heart!
And, let us sit down on this love and learn from each other;
For, i am the bodyguard of your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: My Poesy
My Poesy is God-given a gift!
A soothing balm to mind and heart and soul;
No more my ship of life at sea’s adrift;
Bestowed on me has God a better role.
A wordy weapon that can hurt my foes;
A wordy solace that can give mind peace;
A worthy message that can drive out woes;
A ‘destressor’ in distress, giving ease.
My poetry can even others heal!
My poetry has much in-built logic;
My poetry can make all hearts to feel;
My poetry can do wonders/ magic.
My poetry has me endowed mind’s strength,
And I can write quite well for any length.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye lands your voices raise;
Heaven and earth with loud accord,
Praise the Lord, for ever praise.
For his truth and mercy stand,
Past, and present, and to be,
Like the years of his right hand,
Like his own eternity.
Praise Him, ye who know his love;
Praise Him from the depth beneath;
Praise Him in the heights above;
Praise your Maker, all that breathe.
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Missing Gold
As smart as a snkae and as nimble as a rat,
As slow as a tortoise and as fast as a deer,
I am a hero from zero;
As lovely as a child and as romantic as a kiss,
As lonely as the forest and as soft as the wool,
My door is always open to you all;
And like the brooks of April rain in the forest of my home.
She is gone out of my hands but,
One day i will find her again to sing the love song together;
Because she cares more about you and i do care about her too.
Of her love so perfect and so sweet but,
One day i will find her again to know more about her muse.
Time took her away from me and i can't easily forget about her,
And like the first found bride of yester-eve;
But profane the soil now more.
I will surely find this missing gold one day,
And i will be a here in the strife;
So let the dead past bury its dead.
I am the one she will always remember in her life,
Ans of her heart of roses full of love;
But the art of loving her is like the time fleeting around my mind!
And the sound i hear now is like the dead that slumbers,
But i will act in living present with the care of her muse.
She will always be in my dreams and like,
The voices of the night when lovers meet;
But tomorrow we will meet again on this love gone too soon.
I am the true lover of her heart and she really knows that,
And like the fingerprints on the walls of love as exposed to all;
But love will always find a way on this issue at hand.
I have the golden key for her heart because,
The boundless wisdom makes the flowers of poesy bloom!
For she is all that the muse of love gave to me and,
I will always remember the days with her together.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Are You Laboring For?
What do you labor for my friend; what is your purpose in the end?
Do you labor for a present need, or do you just work to succeed?
Do you punch in a clock for men, to then work eight hours or ten?
Do you put forth effort each day, in a place that you’ll never stay?
These can be asked by all of us, until these bodies return to dust.
But what about time men spend, towards an eternity with no end?
Maybe many aren’t mindful of, the priorities from The Lord above,
Priorities God has for you and me, which extend well into eternity.
When men stand before The Lord, what about all the labor before,
Done while on this earthly sphere, all labored for what down here?
When this life upon earth is past, what in eternity for you will last?
Will all of the effort made by us, simply be blown away like dust?
All of this life is futile, my friend, when your life comes to an end,
Except all of the labor done, for Jesus Christ, God’s Eternal Son.
Wages we don’t get from The Lord, but, from Him, eternal reward,
It’s not only lasting, but its worth, far exceeds the wages on earth.
So why continue to labor in vain, when you can have eternal gain?
Acknowledge God in all you do, and watch what God does in you,
As He stores you treasure above, He fills you with desire and love,
To serve His Son unceasingly, as He prepares us for life eternally.
The Woman Who Loves Poesy
She has a twenty years old daughter but she leads a single life
And she knows what it feels like to be a mother but not to be a wife
Her great love is Goddess Poesy only poesy she admire
And her creative source it comes from poesy and poesy in her verse inspire.
She writes such beautiful poetry as a poet she is well known
And as a genuine wordsmith her reputation it has grown
The woman who loves poesy is good at what she do
At least one can say of her to her own self she is true.
Since writing poetry can be a hungry belly game the well informed say
She works as a bar maid in the Golf Club Rooms for to earn her hard earned pay
But all of her spare time devoted to poesy since poetry she loves to write
Her poems on many different subjects are a source of delight
To poetry lovers who read her verses and many of her say
That from penning verse she will grow wealthy and become quite well known one day
But she does not write for fame or money she only writes because she
Happens for to be a person devoted to Goddess Poesy.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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