Beauty
Beauty is something
that the eye can see
that still lingers
in the mind,
long after its presence is gone
and still one can find it
in unconcrete things
like honour, passion and love
which have the ability
to remain great.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In Honour Of You
In honour of you I'll live my life
To the very best of my ability
I'll recall and apply every wise counsel you ever offered
Savour every word you said trying to raise whatever
Cherish your every attempt to make me feel
In honour of you I'll face the pain gladly
I'll be thankful for the occasion to gain insight
I'll do my utmost to meet with equanimity
Every asshole angel put on my path
Welcoming each challenge as a great opportunity to grow
In honour of you - who has shown me being
Who's own pain is never ever spoken
Who's long suffering is celebrated as a great gift
Who's love and teaching nourishes so, so many
Many and I see life with far, far clearer eyes
In honour of you, who's feet I humbly touch
I shall greet each day with limitless joy
Capture every sparkling moment in my heart's nest
Move forward into new projects, new beginnings
Holding ever and always the nearness of your gracious presence
In honour of you I'll continue traveling
Exploring other cultures, other peoples, other points of view
I'll become fluent in la lingua italiana, visit the Aeolian islands
Find some tenderness for India; visit an ashram; practice Yoga
Everything and anything - all in honour and appreciation of you
poem by Winston T. Gylles
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Your Love Lingers On
Long after your touch has faded from my body
And the scent of your sweet perfume has gone
Long after your kiss is faded from my lips
Your love lingers on.
Chorus:
It's still in the air, it's everywhere.
It never disappears, it surrounds me like a melody
Reminding me you were here.
Long after the glow has faded from the moonlight
And the stars have given way to greet the dawn
Long after the night has faded to sunlight
You love lingers on.
Chorus:
It's still in the air, it's everywhere.
It never disappears, it surrounds me like a melody
Reminding me you were here.
Long after your whisper has faded from my ears
And the curtains are no longer drawn
Long after the passion fades into memories
Your love lingers on.
Chorus:
It's still in the air, it's everywhere.
It never disappears, it surrounds me like a melody
Reminding me you were here.
Your love lingers on.
Your love lingers on.
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Words Too Say What Love Was
ATHESE WORDS TOO SAY WHAT LOVE WAS
These words too say what Love was-
Though I am long from that love and those feelings-
Once there were songs in the night and great passion
And we were a kind of happiness that only the very blessed know-
I had dreamed of such love for so long
And you in your beauty were all Beauty could ever be-
We loved for a long time
And in that love I learned forever that Love is real-
But somehow in a way I will never understand
For you that love died-
And I was left loving without being loved
And had to go a long time in the pain of longing for you again-
But that was long long ago
And now where our love is no one can ever know
For it is only in memories that cannot truly capture what it really was-
Love it is true is the most beautiful thing we know
And I knew this with you
And will be grateful for it forever-
Though the nights the many years of nights in the long time that has passed say
There are other feelings by which we live and kinder quieter loves also -
O passion of my life oh destiny long gone oh Love I will never know again,
Do you blame yourself at all as I long ago have forgiven you
For abandoning the Beauty of our Life for long sad years of concentrated mindfilled gladnesses?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Thought Within a Heart
I held her in my heart with great affection
To my thoughts she claimed so much
Would I call this love, I am unable to answer
But it began the start of a dreamless romance
That I would never come to witness
I am unable to understand the workings of love
How the heart picks at random its choices
I only accept the madness of such affection
The call of such passion that echoes
From the heart and to the mind it flows
The words and thoughts of what we name love
Or infatuation or desire it is all unclear
But one thing is guaranteed ever present
That in our own presence is a being of such beauty
One who makes us question everything
One who makes us dream of such passion
And here in the sway of a hearts singing
The mind and soul become lost undone
In the loving of a new loves beginning
Or the continuation of something well known
Take nothing for granted and be understanding
For love shall provide many an annoyance
But I am at a loss in my own explanation
To what I felt or feel, should I feel it still
A girl of great beauty and wonderful nature
A girl with kind heart, naive in her trusting
I would wish her to be happy, but not change her
So is this love, infatuation or the beginning
Of something that is yet to be decided
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Beauty is
The beauty beheld is alive.
Beauty hiding is of the soul.
Beauty freed is love.
Beauty seen is beauty in control.
Beauty is the passion of the heart.
Beauty causes order divine.
Beauty is seen in all the great.
Beauty is the lure of nature's design.
poem by Josh Alfred
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Slightly Obsessive
I am alone and not even shadow of love is present. Bleeding heart yearns for love. A special kind of love I desire which will be priceless and will remain eternal till the end. Then I think that is love really eternal as it depends on the understanding of both about how things ahead will be. Beauty of life is in love and beauty of love is when both love with unending passion, which is also slightly obsessive.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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And Then The Beauty Dies
And then the Beauty dies
And goes where no one knows
And all the life remains
Hidden as it was -
And then the Beauty dies
And all forever lost
Remembrance too surprised
To no longer still remain-
And then the Beauty dies
And pain and poignant love
Remain for those behind
The beauty in their mind. -
And then the Beauty dies
And then the Beauty dies.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Crazy Jane On God
That lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Banners choke the sky;
Men-at-arms tread;
Armoured horses neigh
In the narrow pass:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
I had wild jack for a lover;
Though like a road
That men pass over
My body makes no moan
But sings on:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Before their eyes a house
That from childhood stood
Uninhabited, ruinous,
Suddenly lit up
From door to top:
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
Oh, that lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
All things remain in god.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Visiting The Tomb Of Burns
The town, the churchyard, and the setting sun,
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem,
Though beautiful, cold- strange- as in a dream
I dreamed long ago, now new begun.
The short-liv'd, paly summer is but won
From winter's ague for one hour's gleam;
Through sapphire warm their stars do never beam:
All is cold Beauty; pain is never done.
For who has mind to relish, Minos-wise,
The real of Beauty, free from that dead hue
Sickly imagination and sick pride
Cast wan upon it? Burns! with honour due
I oft have honour'd thee. Great shadow, hide
Thy face; I sin against thy native skies.
poem by John Keats
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Mirna
Mirna a name to pen my passion
A mystical Goddess of love's descent
To the Goddess passion thine heart lent
Thine succulent fruit of love's compassion.
Passion met Mirna behind a curve line pale
A dark shadow in her deranged mind
Where there in solitude, her sweetness you'll find
In the music of her lovely gale.
Assailed! By the world, she must pay
All her passion, all her beauty
In her words and with her serenity
She hides her love, she passes away.
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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In Dream
You were here but with difference
Simple flower not noticed hence
Grass was still up in defiance
Your beauty was coming up and at variance
The shore was calm
Adored by tall and erect palms
You were beautiful as ever
I could believe it but eyes never
I could wait for no time
Such occasion come sometimes
You did invite me to invade in dream
I ventured into with open arm
I did not know what happened then
You were hanging in my arms even
Forgetting all things around
Your love seemed so sound
It would go long way
But I fear it shouldn’t push me away
Your passion is turning me blind
As I have in you something to find
I was same this before
And wants to remain same therefore
Whether in dreams or otherwise
Let there be beautiful sunrise
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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To remain close
It is not essential for person to remain closer
This has remained puzzle and direct poser
You may not know a person even if with proximity
It will be your great wisdom and sheer ability
What you try to know of a person?
It will be linked to various reasons
If you have love and affection
You will be very watchful in your action
You have definite angle in mind
You may not try for any other angle to find
You have little anxiety about person’s character
You have fixed all your attention on one factor
I was such person who has not claimed closeness
Yet find his company so enterprising with firmness
He is there at any time with you to take side
There is apparently no link to enlarge or wide
It may give immense love and protection
If you are always ready for action
This will prove you self to be good friend
But will not close the link with abrupt end
This is what generally happens in sweet relation
When more than two people have same indication
It is difficult to go close and maintain liaison
Even though you have right and every reason
If you can watch it from distance
You must show courage and presence
It will prove at right time and place
As you have withdrawn from active race
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Powerless
Powerless
I am powerless without your presence
Don’t leave me and go even at once
You have come to my by hard efforts
I have feeling of joy when ships anchor at ports
You always gently swung the pendulum
Person comes in the form and can’t remain mum
Your presence is seen and observed
You remain only with those who deserved
I realized no importance when you were here
I became powerless when you went somewhere
I felt as if whole energy is taken away
I have been made beggar and brought on the way
I pull the month with great difficulty
I feel shame on self and feel pity
You are great source of strength and power
You are staying with luckiest one and fewer
I request you to come back and stay
Promise me not to go any time away
I land in problems when you leave
I become cheerful when you say and nicely behave
My whole budget goes up side down
I have to bear burnt and so many losses to own
I can’t go alone without your hand
All people turn against me as foes from friends
I will love you so much and pray
You only help and find a way
Never leave me even if I commit mistake
I shall not sleep and remain awake
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Place Between
Where and how to find immortal soul;
or self; eternal witness; eye of God;
or place, or space, within the eager heart
where All, or One, may hide – or may await?
So where to find first clue; or some frayed end
of golden thread that leads to golden light?
Not in the wrinkled brow… but in the simplest things
the greatest secrets wait, as we are told;
in the magic land that’s called Between:
Between the end of one thought, and the next,
as it is formed within the mind – the briefest space
where nothing but the witness of our self
rests, perfect, pure, complete, within itself;
inviting us to join that rest for just as long
as we enjoy this satisfaction
of the presence of ourself;
And if that taste of presence pleases -
then, between each word we hear or speak,
we’ll find the silence of ourself; and find
how each word comes from silence, and returns;
and as we relish and besport in that great space,
from greater silence, greater words may come..
There is no limit to that world, Between:
we’ll find it more and more, within all things,
beyond all things; it is the music of our life
which sings its song through thought and speech and act;
a music in a boundless space, so vast
that we may meet our greater self – at last!
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Cold Beauty
What is beauty without warmth n love,
Brrrrrrh cold seein but cannot hold.
No grasp of this beauty, only a distant touch,
Maybe from giving beauty to much.
Or not givin beauty enough,
Seein the distant gaze of green, grey, n blue haze
In the place where beautys eyes go.
But to the touch beauty is cold as snow.
How did beauty get so?
Why did beauty let go, of the warmth that imbrased her so tight?
Guess beauty is still beauty inspite,
Only dream of beauty every night.
To wake everyday in dismay not to see beautys face.
So my thoughts of beauty remain in solitude,
to respect beautys mind not to be rude.
Still wantin to intrude because of my pain.
But what if beauty calls anothers name,
In the hours that I dream of her.
So my words remain a secret to beautys ears,
As i quickly wipe away the tears.
And wish beauty the best of life.
As i grasp myself and my dutys,
Still lingering in my mind is cold beauty.
poem by Ozie James
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the comfort I find
Comfort I find holding, each others arms,
your beauty is like the sun warming a cold winters day to my eyes.
No grief do I find when you are beside me,
Nor is there sorrow in my heart for you are my passion in life.
Your beauty has fulfilled my heart with great joy and when the heart is full of joy it is full of beauty but
Your beauty will last forever in my eyes.
2-27-02
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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To the beauty
In the change of day and night,
the change of seasons
we see the beauty of Your great light
falling on man for Your just and hallowed reasons.
We witness Your presence in all living things
around us in the majesty of every thing material,
but more so in the sense and sensibility that rings
from love, hope, joy and feelings that are immaterial
and as a writer of poetry I gave my word
to let my words focus on You and in that to be true,
although at times my rhymes cut like a sword
lashing out to where it is due
as Your majesty is displayed in everything
and even these specs called man You find interesting.
[Reference: Hymn to Intellectual Beauty by Percy Bysshe Shelley; Aan die skoonheid (To the beauty) by N. P. van Wyk Louw.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Real Strength of a Woman
Everyone wonders what’s her secret?
The mother with 3 kids and no father to support them
The woman with cancer who still manages to come out on top
The grandmother who is forced to be a mother yet again because
Of her daughters mistakes
I wonder myself and I still have a long way to go
But I believe that they all have one thing in common….
The Real Strength of a Woman
The ability to shield themselves from the hurt while in others view
The ability to make their children believe that everything will be ok
The ability to make everything ok despite their hurdles
The ability to stay close to God despite how difficult it may seem
The ability to be strong and remain a brick wall for their loved ones
A real woman can console others even when she is worse off
She can find it in her heart to somehow give, even when no one is giving her
She can endure many hardships and sacrifices because of the ones she loves
Yet she somehow still remains strong
I still don’t fully know the strength of a woman
But every woman out there that I’ve seen, met or come into contact with
All possess these qualities in one way, shape or form
2/9/08
poem by Candice George
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Valediction To His Book
I'll tell thee now (dear love) what thou shalt do
To anger destiny, as she doth us;
How I shall stay, though she eloign me thus,
And how posterity shall know it too;
How thine may out-endure
Sibyl's glory, and obscure
Her who from Pindar could allure,
And her, through whose help Lucan is not lame,
And her, whose book (they say) Homer did find, and name.
Study our manuscripts, those myriads
Of letters, which have past 'twixt thee and me;
Thence write our annals, and in them will be
To all whom love's subliming fire invades,
Rule and example found;
There the faith of any ground
No schismatic will dare to wound,
That sees, how Love this grace to us affords,
To make, to keep, to use, to be these his records.
This book, as long-lived as the elements,
Or as the world's form, this all-gravèd tome
In cypher writ, or new made idiom;
We for Love's clergy only are instruments;
When this book is made thus,
Should again the ravenous
Vandals and Goths invade us,
Learning were safe; in this our universe,
Schools might learn sciences, spheres music, angels verse.
Here Love's divines—since all divinity
Is love or wonder—may find all they seek,
Whether abstract spiritual love they like,
Their souls exhaled with what they do not see;
Or, loth so to amuse
Faith's infirmity, they choose
Something which they may see and use;
For, though mind be the heaven, where love doth sit,
Beauty a convenient type may be to figure it.
Here more than in their books may lawyers find,
Both by what titles mistresses are ours,
And how prerogative these states devours,
Transferr'd from Love himself, to womankind;
Who, though from heart and eyes,
They exact great subsidies,
Forsake him who on them relies;
And for the cause, honour, or conscience give;
Chimeras vain as they or their prerogative.
Here statesmen—or of them, they which can read—
May of their occupation find the grounds;
Love, and their art, alike it deadly wounds,
If to consider what 'tis, one proceed.
In both they do excel
Who the present govern well,
Whose weakness none doth, or dares tell;
In this thy book, such will there something see,
As in the Bible some can find out alchemy.
Thus vent thy thoughts; abroad I'll study thee,
As he removes far off, that great heights takes;
How great love is, presence best trial makes,
But absence tries how long this love will be;
To take a latitude
Sun, or stars, are fitliest view'd
At their brightest, but to conclude
Of longitudes, what other way have we,
But to mark when and where the dark eclipses be?
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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She had loved
She had loved,
Loved with the passion of a thousand loves
All of her hurt and pain went into this love
A love that no one had ever known
The ache and hurt from all the others went into the act of loving
The abuse of all the others went into her passion
The pain of rejection from family and friends went into the love making
She could never feel the hurt again so she put it into the passion and heat they two had when they where together
And when she was alone she would cry for the pain
Pain for the fear that she might never love
Cry for all the abuse that was put onto her body
Some in part to find love
Some in part to feel something instead of being loved
She used her body as a vessel to get what she wanted
And never showed love when doing it
She gave herself to forget herself and all the pain and fear and anguish
She gave and gave and showed no emotion in doing so
She knew that no one would really know her
Or really loved her
They were all just lovers without the love and all of the passion
She used what she knew
And passion is what she knew best
She had passion in the way she walked and talked and all the things that she did
She never showed her true colors
Until she found that love
And poured it all into the love making that she gave and cried for a different reason
She now cried for the loved that she had found and wanted
She gave all of her and more then needed to give to one person
That love that she had never had and wanted so desperately she gave to this person and that person never really understood her
She thought that this would never end and never wanted it to
But when the love in the love making faded it was just empty
And from then on all of her became empty
She did not know how to show true love and slowly lost her passion
All of her passion for all of the things that made her lovable
So now she was never to find that love again
Now she was passionless and empty
Empty was she would remain to be
Hallow once again just a vessel for others to abuse
and confuse for what they thought was love
Love that she would and could never feel again
poem by Ruthy Fernandez
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