Proper Person
Where are you going
The answer is with me
Please do not put me
In troubled water
I am not poor
With no desire at all
The desire makes a man
Dead and I am not dead
I know where you are going
I am not proper person here
to tell and only you my dear
Can understand me
I am not near.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Related quotes
The havoc of the desire
Desire is not dead for it has been fed.
It is a fire to soar when more and more fed.
Desire is not dead for it has been shut.
It is a caged dog, to spring when freed.
Rotate it to mitigate it.
03.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Passion Gone
things that we like to
do never tire us
it is the tiredness
that surrenders
this passion makes us
alive
desire stirs us like
a big whirlpool after a tsunami
it is this quest
that makes us indefatigable
but when every passion is gone
every desire consumed
what is left is nothing
there is no reason to live
and we find ourselves
dying to be dead...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Pale Woman
I spoke to the pale and heavy-lidded woman, and said:
O pale and heavy-lidded woman, why is your cheek
Pale as the dead, and what are your eyes afraid lest they speak?
And the woman answered me: I am pale as the dead,
For the dead have loved me, and I dream of the dead.
But I see in the eyes of the living, as a living fire,
The thing that my soul in triumph tells me I have forgot;
And therefore mine eyelids are heavy, and I raise them not,
For always I see in the eyes of men the old desire,
And I fear lest they see that I desire their desire.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Cold!
Come not to me with loveliness
Across the crying hill;
For once I held thee pitiless
Hast thou no pity still?
Come not to me with hot delight,
And touch this moveless clay,
Lest my poor heart that knows the night
Awake and feel the day.
Come not to me and kiss this head,
And heat me with thy fire;
For I am dead, and thou art dead;
And dead is my desire.
poem by Leon Gellert
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An Ever Open Door
Desire to live, love and dream
Desire to desire more
Desire is the flirtiest whim
It's an ever open door.
Desire to touch you once
Desire to break into a dance
Desire to hold your hand
Desire to build on sand!
It's an ever open door
You desire and desire more!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Poverty
Tears filled in the eyes, as a compare the rich with the poor;
Palatial buildings laugh at the small cottages of the poor.
With scanty income the poor feeds the children, contents their desire;
Life of poor is filled with fear.
O god, in thy kingdom, partiality reigns hither, thither;
Poor becomes poorer with thy desire.
Corruption is rampant among the officers;
Exploiting junior employees' property they content their desire.
O god! Thy Earth is wonder;
Poor people roam hither, thither;
With their little income they content their desire.
On Earth they are cursed creatures.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Poverty Vavroovahana Patra
Tears filled in the eyes, as I compare the rich with the poor;
Palatial buildings laugh at the small cottages of the poor.
With scanty income the poor feeds the children, contents their desire;
Life of poor is filled with fear.
O god, in thy kingdom, partiality reigns hither, thither;
Poor becomes poorer with thy desire.
Corruption is rampant among the officers;
Exploiting junior employees' property they content their desire.
O god! Thy Earth is a wonder;
Poor people roam hither, thither.
With their little income they content their desire.
On Earth they are cursed creatures.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Everlasting Gaze
You know I'm not dead
Now you know where I've been
As you sleep
Torn I am
Weighted down
Patiently
Born of love
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living in my head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all
Into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I'm not dead
Found below
The creatures scream
Stranglehold
A god machine
Begging to
Tear us out
Worn as hope
You know I'm not dead I'm just the tears inside your head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I'm not dead
We all want to hold in the everlasting gaze
Enchanted in the rapture of his sentimental sway
But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every c.o.g.
The fickle fascination of an everlasting god
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living in my head
Forever waiting
Forever waiting on cruel death
You know I'm not dead
I'm just living for myself
Forever waiting
You know I'm not dead
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Threnos
IN o more for us the little sighing.
No more the winds at twilight trouble us.
Lo the fair dead!
No more do I burn.
No more for us the fluttering of wings
That whirred in the air above us.
Lo the fair dead!
No more desire flayeth me,
No more for us the trembling
At the meeting of hands.
Lo the fair dead!
No more for us the wine of the lips,
No more for us the knowledge.
Lo the fair dead!
No more the torrent,
No more for us the meeting-place
(Lo the fair dead!)
Tintagoel.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Desire
My desire
is always the same; wherever Life
deposits me:
I want to stick my toe
& soon my whole body
into the water.
I want to shake out a fat broom
& sweep dried leaves
bruised blossoms
dead insects
& dust.
I want to grow
something.
It seems impossible that desire
can sometimes transform into devotion;
but this has happened.
And that is how I've survived:
how the hole
I carefully tended
in the garden of my heart
grew a heart
to fill it.
poem by Alice Walker
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We Cannot Save The Dead
WE CANNOT SAVE THE DEAD
We cannot save the dead,
Though we perfect our forms of remembrance-
The dead are the dead forever dead-
And we will too one day be among them
Dead forever dead-
Despite the way those left behind strive to remember.
Dead forever dead-
Unless God decide
In some way we cannot understand
That the individual human being
Is as infinitely precious
As those who love them here
know them to be.
-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Exile
I
At dead of night about the dying fire
They told a story how the dead appear;
And men, grown still with fear,
Forgot their old desire
For those who once were dear,
And shook and trembled lest their dead be near.
Alas, poor dead who were so sweet and human!
How are you grown a menace and a blight
A thing to shun, a thing of evil omen,
Stealing unwelcome through the halls of night?,
Who knows? perhaps yourselves are much affrighted,
And struggle back, remote and bodiless,
Fearful of sounds unheard, visions unsighted,
Black echoes, and the bitter loneliness.
But for me, in my heart is no dread
Of the coming again of the dead,
But a terror of life, without one
Who made life to be life - and is gone.
II
Yes, at these tales of how the dead return,
Hope stirs within my spirit more than fear.
So strange, so strange it seems, you are not here,
And so unnatural to me 'tis to learn
The trick of life without you, year by year,
That not so strange could any specter be
Or fall of footsteps on the empty stair,
Or shapes discerned upon the shadowy air,
As is this haunting sense of vacancy,
And your persisting absence everywhere.
Ah, could I see, as in the tranquil past,
The form I long for - always and in vain, -
Should I not cry, like one released from pain:
'Dear and long absent, you return at last,
And life its natural aspect wears again!'
poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Mother Theresa's 'Poezia
Release me, oh God,
From the desire to be adored,
From the desire to be exalted,
From the desire to be honored,
From the desire to be applauded,
From the desire to be ranked
From the desire to be sought after for advice,
From the desire to be commended,
From the desire to be famous,
From the fear of being disdained,
From the fear of being disparaged
From the fear of being denounced
From the fear of being repellent
From the fear of being forgotten
From fear of collapsing under dishonesties.
From the fear of being mocked,
From the fear of being suspicioned!
Amen.
poem by Masiela Lusha
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What I Appreciate
I appreciate
A person who acknowledge
His or her mistakes
I appreciate a person
Who apologizes
And doesn't hesitate
I appreciate
A person who makes
You believe
What they say because
They mean it truly
I appreciate
A person who keeps their word
After all it's what I deserve
I appreciate
A person who's apology
I can accept
Because it will be sincere
And I can forgive and forget it
I appreciate
Having someone I admire
It is my desire
I appreciate a person
Like this I would
Be truly flattered
For it's important
And to me it matters
So I know you are wondering
Can I do the same thing.....
Absolutely
poem by Tameeka Smith
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Did You Really Make Me, Me
Dear God,
You said you could take my doubts
I'm sorry I'm not filled with love an adoration right now
But this is what I think, I know you'd want me to be honest
So this is what I'm really wondering, so answer me
Dear God,
Did you really make me, me?
God you gave me eyes to see
God you gave me every hair on head
God you gave me life and now I'm not dead
You said you gave me all the gifts I had
For the longest time
I scorned these gifts saying I had none, not even this rhyme
But you're my loving Father, God you're my dad
But did you really make me me?
Dear God,
You gave me all of my gifts, so You gave me the gift to run
You gave me everything, so You gave me the motivation to run
Didn't you God?
Doesn't this mean that you gave me this desire?
I love to hike, I love each and every esplanade
Did you MAKE me to love them prior
Or did I learn to?
Did you make me with my desires, all of them, was that really You?
If it was then aren't you pleased when I run
Aren't you pleased when I do those things You made me for
Even if it makes my legs sore, my mind sore, whatever sore.
Aren't you pleased with me, pleased with your son?
Dear God,
Did You MAKE me with ALL my desires, everything I like to do
Do You bless my efforts with them too
I just don't understand why I like anything unless you made me that way
I just don't understand because what I really want to say
Right now is that I'm doubting
I'm thinking
That I gave myself these desires, but Father
Sorry to be a bother
But I cannot handle that conclusion
Tell me it's all an illusion
Tell me my desires ARE from YOU
Because if they're not, I don't know what I'd do
I'd question everything that I do
I might even start to question You too
I wouldn't know my purpose or if I should run
If I should spend hours in the sun
If I should play video games or eat ramen
If I should ride my bike
If I should go out and hike
This is way too much of a strain
I cannot bear this burden of worrying about what to do
So please tell me it's from You
Please tell me you made me to run God
God you said You can handle my doubts.... but I cant feel you right now
God I know you're there so I bow
But I'm doubting, tell me you made me Father.... Father....
Dear God,
Please promise me that you made me, me
poem by David Knox
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The Dead Do Not Answer
THE DEAD DO NOT ANSWER
The dead do not answer
We call to them in the night
But they do not respond
It is our heart calling to them
Our pain our love our need
But they do not answer
All our memories call to them
All that they have been to us
And we with them
We call and call and call
Again and again and again
But they do not answer
The dead do not answer
And we will not answer either.
I
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Biolodgy
Poor lonely eyes,
Cold dead flesh,
Reminds me of my dear pet,
Steel, icy cold against my palm,
I can't do it,
I can't bear to tear it open,
I understand it's dead,
But look at it,
It has a heart,
And feelings (once)
It should be burried,
Not here,
Lay across the concrete lab bench,
Sick to my stomach,
Officially vegetarian.
poem by Dyllan Martin
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A Question To My Lover
what is it that i
desire really from you?
is it your body?
is it your wisdom?
is it your time?
is it your concern?
i have tasted
every skin of your body
i have taken much
of your time
i have listened from
your wisdom
i have much of your
care
and yet i am still
empty
i have consumed you
like bread and
have drunk you like
a glass of wine
yet there is still something
that i desire from you
and yet i still do not know
or is it that it is not
really you that i desire
but someone else?
and how many more?
yes how many more
shall i waste and yet find
no answer?
will you finally kill me at
the end of this
betrayal?
what is it that i desire?
self, tell me now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Desire Remained A Desire
My desire
Remained a desire
Never got fulfilled
So I decided
To make another desire,
I prayed to god
To give me strength
Not to desire
After few days
I asked god
What happened to?
My desire
Of not desiring
God said to me
Since you desired
Not to ever desire
If I fulfill it
You shall not get
What you desired
If I do not fulfill
Your desire
You shall keep on
Complaining
About unfulfilment
Of desire
So my advice is
Desire less
Remain contented
Do not expect much
As expectation breeds
Frustration
And frustration breeds
Anger
In anger one looses cool
Becomes
Rash and purposeless
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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