Friendship's Mystery, To my Dearest Lucasia
.
COme, my Lucasia, since we see
That Miracles Mens faith do move,
By wonder and by prodigy
To the dull angry world let's prove
There's a Religion in our Love.
.
For though we were design'd t' agree,
That Fate no liberty destroyes,
But our Election is as free
As Angels, who with greedy choice
Are yet determin'd to their joyes.
.
Our hearts are doubled by the loss,
Here Mixture is Addition grown ;
We both diffuse, and both ingross :
And we whose minds are so much one,
Never, yet ever are alone.
.
We court our own Captivity
Than Thrones more great and innocent :
'Twere banishment to be set free,
Since we wear fetters whose intent
Not Bondage is, but Ornament.
.
Divided joyes are tedious found,
And griefs united easier grow :
We are our selves but by rebound,
And all our Titles shuffled so,
Both Princes, and both Subjects too.
.
Our Hearts are mutual Victims laid,
While they (such power in Friendship lies)
Are Altars, Priests, and Off'rings made :
And each Heart which thus kindly dies,
Grows deathless by the Sacrifice.
poem by Katherine Philips

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Content, To My Dearest Lucasia
Content, the false World's best disguise,
The search and faction of the Wise,
Is so abstruse and hid in night,
That, like that Fairy Red-cross Knight,
Who trech'rous Falshood for clear Truth had got,
Men think they have it when they have it not.
For Courts Content would gladly own,
But she ne're dwelt about a Throne:
And to be flatter'd, rich, and great,
Are things which do Mens senses cheat.
But grave Experience long since this did see,
Ambition and Content would ne're agree.
Some vainer would Content expect
From what their bright Out-sides reflect:
But sure Content is more Divine
Then to be digg'd from Rock or Mine:
And they that know her beauties will confess,
She needs no lustre from a glittering dress.
In Mirth some place her, but she scorns
Th'assistance of such crackling thorns,
Nor owes her self to such thin sport,
That is so sharp and yet so short:
And Painters tell us, they the same strokes place
To make a laughing and a weeping face.
Others there are that place Content
In Liberty from Government:
But who his Passions do deprave,
Though free from shackles is a slave.
Content and Bondage differ onely then,
When we are chain'd by Vices, not by Men.
Some think the Camp Content does know,
And that she fits o'th' Victor's brow:
But in his Laurel there is seen
Often a Cypress-bow between.
Nor will Content herself in that place give,
Where Noise and Tumult and Destruction live.
But yet the most Discreet believe,
The Schools this Jewel do receive,
And thus far's true without dispute,
Knowledge is still the sweetest fruit.
But whil'st men seek for Truth they lose their Peace;
And who heaps Knowledge, Sorrow doth increase.
But now some sullen Hermite smiles,
And thinks he all the World beguiles,
And that his Cell and Dish contain
What all mankind wish for in vain.
But yet his Pleasure's follow'd with a Groan,
For man was never born to be alone.
Content her self best comprehends
Betwixt two souls, and they two friends,
Whose either joyes in both are fixed,
And multiply'd by being mixed:
Whose minds and interests are still the same;
Their Griefs, when once imparted, lose their name.
These far remov'd from all bold noise,
And (what is worse) all hollow joyes,
Who never had a mean design,
Whose flame is serious and divine,
And calm, and even, must contented be,
For they've both Union and Society.
Then, my Lucasia, we have
Whatever Love can give or crave;
With scorn or pity can survey
The Trifles which the most betray;
With innocence and perfect friendship fired,
By Vertue joyn'd, and by our Choice retired.
Whose Mirrours are the crystal Brooks,
Or else each others Hearts and Looks;
Who cannot wish for other things
Then Privacy and Friendship brings:
Whose thoughts and persons chang'd and mixt are one,
Enjoy Content, or else the World hath none.
Anonymous Submission
poem by Katherine Philips

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A Lady Forsaken Complayneth
If pleasures be in painfulness, in pleasures doth my body rest,
If joyes accord with carefulness, a joyful hart is in my brest:
If prison strong be liberty, in liberty long have I been,
If joyes accord with misery, who can compare a lyfe to myne:
Who can unbind that is sore bound? who can make free yet is sore thrall,
Or how can any means be found to comfort such a wretch withall?
None can but he yet hath my hart, convert my pains to comfort then,
Yet since his servant I became, most like a bondman have I been:
Since first in bondage I became, my word and deed was ever such,
That never once he could me blame, except for loving him too much.
Which I can judge no just offence, nor cause that I deserved disdayne,
Except he mean through false pretense, through forgèd love to make a trayne.
Nay, nay, alas, my fainèd thoughts my freded and my fainèd ruth,
My pleasures past, my present plaints, shew well I mean but to much truth:
But since I can not him attain, against my will I let him goe,
And lest he glorie at my pain, I wyl attempt to cloke my woe.
Youth learne by me but do not prove, for I have provèd to my pain,
What greeuous greefes do grow by love, and what it is to love in vaine.
poem by Sir Edward Dyer

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The World Divided
The world first is one
And then it’s divided
To explore the world
And search a better home
The world is divided
And then it united again
By the passion to conquer the world
And find forever glory
The world is united
And then it’s divided again
The rule of living is placed
And the game of power is played
The world is divided
And then it’s blurred
In the darkness of fate
And moral questioned
The world is united
And then it’s shattered
By the nature’s tragedy
And evolution selection
The world is divided
And it tries to be united again
To end meaningless war
And look for compromise peace
The world is united
And then it’s more divided
Of prejudice and pride
And the lust of money
The world is divided
And it’s waiting to be united again
By the dream of children
And the love in the heart
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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To Lucasta From Prison An Epode
I.
Long in thy shackels, liberty
I ask not from these walls, but thee;
Left for awhile anothers bride,
To fancy all the world beside.
II.
Yet e're I doe begin to love,
See, how I all my objects prove;
Then my free soule to that confine,
'Twere possible I might call mine.
III.
First I would be in love with PEACE,
And her rich swelling breasts increase;
But how, alas! how may that be,
Despising earth, she will love me?
IV.
Faine would I be in love with WAR,
As my deare just avenging star;
But War is lov'd so ev'rywhere,
Ev'n he disdaines a lodging here.
V.
Thee and thy wounds I would bemoane,
Faire thorough-shot RELIGION;
But he lives only that kills thee,
And who so bindes thy hands, is free.
VI.
I would love a PARLIAMENT
As a maine prop from Heav'n sent;
But ah! who's he, that would be wedded
To th' fairest body that's beheaded?
VII.
Next would I court my LIBERTY,
And then my birth-right, PROPERTY;
But can that be, when it is knowne,
There's nothing you can call your owne?
VIII.
A REFORMATION I would have,
As for our griefes a SOV'RAIGNE salve;
That is, a cleansing of each wheele
Of state, that yet some rust doth feele.
IX.
But not a reformation so,
As to reforme were to ore'throw,
Like watches by unskilfull men
Disjoynted, and set ill againe.
X.
The PUBLICK FAITH I would adore,
But she is banke-rupt of her store:
Nor how to trust her can I see,
For she that couzens all, must me.
XI.
Since then none of these can be
Fit objects for my love and me;
What then remaines, but th' only spring
Of all our loves and joyes, the King?
XII.
He who, being the whole ball
Of day on earth, lends it to all;
When seeking to ecclipse his right,
Blinded we stand in our owne light.
XIII.
And now an universall mist
Of error is spread or'e each breast,
With such a fury edg'd as is
Not found in th' inwards of th' abysse.
XIV.
Oh, from thy glorious starry waine
Dispense on me one sacred beame,
To light me where I soone may see
How to serve you, and you trust me!
poem by Richard Lovelace

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To Lucasta, From Prison
I.
Long in thy shackels, liberty
I ask not from these walls, but thee;
Left for awhile anothers bride,
To fancy all the world beside.
II.
Yet e're I doe begin to love,
See, how I all my objects prove;
Then my free soule to that confine,
'Twere possible I might call mine.
III.
First I would be in love with peace,
And her rich swelling breasts increase;
But how, alas! how may that be,
Despising earth, she will love me?
IV.
Faine would I be in love with war,
As my deare just avenging star;
But War is lov'd so ev'rywhere,
Ev'n he disdaines a lodging here.
V.
Thee and thy wounds I would bemoane,
Faire thorough-shot religion;
But he lives only that kills thee,
And who so bindes thy hands, is free.
VI.
I would love a parliment
As a maine prop from Heav'n sent;
But ah! who's he, that would be wedded
To th' fairest body that's beheaded?
VII.
Next would I court my liberty,
And then my birth-right, property;
But can that be, when it is knowne,
There's nothing you can call your owne?
VIII.
A reformation I would have,
As for our griefes a sov'raigne salve;
That is, a cleansing of each wheele
Of state, that yet some rust doth feele.
IX.
But not a reformation so,
As to reforme were to ore'throw,
Like watches by unskilfull men
Disjoynted, and set ill againe.
X.
The publick faith I would adore,
But she is banke-rupt of her store:
Nor how to trust her can I see,
For she that couzens all, must me.
XI.
Since then none of these can be
Fit objects for my love and me;
What then remaines, but th' only spring
Of all our loves and joyes, the King?
XII.
He who, being the whole ball
Of day on earth, lends it to all;
When seeking to ecclipse his right,
Blinded we stand in our owne light.
XIII.
And now an universall mist
Of error is spread or'e each breast,
With such a fury edg'd as is
Not found in th' inwards of th' abysse.
XIV.
Oh, from thy glorious starry waine
Dispense on me one sacred beame,
To light me where I soone may see
How to serve you, and you trust me!
poem by Richard Lovelace

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The Next Great World War!
the next great world war
is already being fought...
within... within the hearts
of the poor of all nations,
struggling to survive,
for food and shelter.
in the hearts of the jobless,
the homeless, the sick.
in the hearts of prisoners,
of victims...
in the hearts of the takers,
the movers, the ones that make
the decisions, that hold
the key and the whip.
in the hearts of soldiers,
of politicians, of the innocents
killed by the bombing.
in the hearts of seekers,
of the lonely, the desperate.
in the hearts of the angry,
of the haters...
of priests, preachers, and moral guides.
in the hearts of the common,
in the hearts of the gifted,
in the hearts of the protesters,
and the cops that beat them.
in the hearts of all people everywhere,
crying out for change in spite of...
the war rages...
and who will stand
when the day is done?
poem by Eric Cockrell

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On The Rebound
On the rebound, on the rebound
Thats how you fell for me
Thats how you changed my life
You cut me like a knife
On the rebound, on the rebound
You came, you saw, you took
It only took one look
And lady, I was hooked
On the rebound - its a replay ...
Your love was on the rebound
On the rebound
You came and took my soul
You came and left a hole
Where your love used to be
On the rebound, on the rebound
You like to drown in your tears
And after all these years
You give your pain to me
On the rebound - you came to me, babe
On the rebound - to set you free
On the rebound - too bad for me
Your love was on the rebound
You came to me
To set you free
To pray for me
Its a replay
You came to repay
Its a replay
To set you free
Just a replay
Your love was
Just a replay
song performed by by Uriah Heep

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Liberty
The day in which one celebrates, Independence of a union of states,
Independence from powers outside; freedom that was once denied,
The freest nation in this world, a point that others sometimes herald,
Causing many who are weary in heart, to come here for a fresh start.
A day of real joyous celebration, all across this now powerful nation,
As our voices together are raised, with full hearts a nation is praised,
Festive fireworks are always planned, in many cities across this land,
Celebrating what many of us see, as the greatest nation in all history.
Liberty we celebrate by proclamation, extends to all within this nation,
However that liberty extends only, to the borders of this dear country,
Beyond the borders and the sea, the nation’s people may not be free,
When many travel to other lands, freedoms turn into other’s demands.
Demands which turn into bondage, leaving this land of great privilege,
Privileges that others only dream of, as they look to this land we love,
A land that is so blessed by God, many agree, on this day with a nod,
But, forgetting Him most of the year; living so privileged, without fear.
There’s a freedom many don’t know, as their freedoms for them grow,
Liberty, from the bondage of sin, that captivates our land from within,
That freedom which we celebrate, doesn’t free men from Satan’s hate,
As the Devil leads a war against God, all across this land that we trod.
Freedom from such an evil foe, comes only when the Savior we know,
Who left all the Glory of Eternity, coming to earth to set captives free,
The only true freedom on this earth, comes to man, by a spiritual birth,
Through the Liberty in Jesus Christ, when in Him they receive New Life.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
The Ship Of Hearts
what is the ship of hearts you ask me!
it is a ship where the hearts roam free.
where all the hearts gather to tell what's the matter.
to speak of loves lost and loves found
and of loves on the rebound.
they will have their conferences of each heart
and how it got its start.
each will speak of what they've gone through
and how to stop it from happening to you.
each heart will have a tale, and how it did fail.
every heart had suffered pain
and the experiences that they had gained.
they will talk of how they gave their heart
and it was torn apart.
so now they gather on this ship
and try to save the hearts thats ripped.
ripped and torn and thrown to the side
and how 'out of this hole, they did climb'.
for no matter what they go through
there will always be someone to
fall in love with you.
so these hearts gather their strength
and learn to fight till the very end.
and on this ship, they now gather as one
and with all this power combined
these tattered heart will all be fine.
(power to the heart of man)
poem by Louis Rams

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Sonnet: Unexpected Things Tell a Lot
A ride that’s free can surely gladden hearts;
A lift that’s early brings in life, great joy;
Recognition by world improves our arts;
Basket of apples free all will enjoy!
Reward that’s big can gladden sure one’s mind;
Long-lasting friendship surely makes one proud;
Promotion early, to work makes one bind;
Great joy is born when people clap aloud.
What ecstasy is found when old friends meet!
Heart knows no bounds when love is back again;
Heart leaps with joy doing the Herculean feat;
What joy fills farmers hearts when comes the rain!
Happy’s the child seeing the lost dog found;
When God forgives our sins, man is dumb-found!
poem by John Celes

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Our Epitaph
Here lies the greatest civilization ever developed upon this earth
The finest and best hope that all men could be free, self-governing
and prosperous, and that the burden of excessive toll, disease
and poverty could be lifted from the backs of men
This great civilization died not as a result of external agression,
but from internal crumbling of the character of its people
The people had become so luxury-loving and soft that they would
not exert themselves in their own defense
A malignant disease that might be described as a maudlin sympahty
for ones enemies seemed to paralyze their will
Here lies the nation that sacrificed its life in an effort to gain
the goodwill and friendship of its enemies
Here lies the people who abandoned their priceless heritage of
patriotism, religious faith and truth for the socialism that
sapped their manhood
Here lies the nation that abandoned the faith of its fathers who
had made it great; for the cynical skepticism and atheism of
its enemies
Here lies the nation that died from loss of faith in God, loss of
pride and confidence in itself, and a loss of the will to defend
itself against both its internal and external enemies
Here lies the United States
poem by John Leroy Maxwell

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A Retir'd Friendship
Come, my Ardelia, to this bowre,
Where kindly mingling Souls a while,
Let's innocently spend an houre,
And at all serious follys smile
Here is no quarrelling for Crowns,
Nor fear of changes in our fate;
No trembling at the Great ones frowns
Nor any slavery of state.
Here's no disguise, nor treachery
Nor any deep conceal'd design;
From blood and plots this place is free,
And calm as are those looks of thine.
Here let us sit and bless our Starres
Who did such happy quiet give,
As that remov'd from noise of warres.
In one another's hearts we live.
We should we entertain a feare?
Love cares not how the world is turn'd.
If crouds of dangers should appeare,
Yet friendship can be unconcern'd.
We weare about us such a charme,
No horrour can be our offence;
For misheif's self can doe no harme
To friendship and to innocence.
Let's mark how soone Apollo's beams
Command the flocks to quit their meat,
And not intreat the neighbour -- streams
To quench their thirst, but coole their heat.
In such a scorching Age as this,
Whoever would not seek a shade
Deserve their happiness to misse,
As having their own peace betray'd.
But we (of one another's mind
Assur'd,) the boistrous world disdain;
With quiet souls, and unconfin'd,
Enjoy what princes wish in vain.
poem by Katherine Philips

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Today's the Day
Perhaps today's the day that I break free
Free from the hustle that comes each day
Free from distractions that lead me astray
Perhaps I can be what I'm made to be
Perhaps today's the day I'll choose to move
Move beyond the past into tomorrow
Move with purpose in the way I should go
Perhaps I'll believe I've nothing to prove
Perhaps today's the day I'll find my peace
Peace like a stream flowing fresh to my soul
Peace that brings new meaning and makes me whole
Perhaps that assurance will never cease
Perhaps today's the day I'll hear Your voice
So clearly that my heart will have no choice
If today's the day I'm finally free
May I be free to run and tell the world
With Your banner of love proudly unfurled
For today's the day You have set me free
If today's the day I finally move
May I move boldly toward holy life
Allowing You to guide me through the strife
As I dance for joy for You've made me move
And, if today's the day I find Your peace
May I promote that peace to all I meet
Living in peace and loving those I greet
As I gratefully give others Your peace
If today's the day I will hear Your voice
May I know it and may my heart rejoice
((March 7th,2010))
poem by Danny Speicher

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Did You Pass or Fail?
Why is it easier to be arrogant?
Why is it easier to be cruel?
Why is it easier to be evil?
Why is it easier to hurt?
Why is it easier to an asshole?
Why is it easier to victimize?
Why is it easier to abuse?
Why is it easier to use?
Why is it easier to be greedy?
Why is it easier to be selfish?
Why is it easier to be self centered?
Why is it easier to steal?
Why is it easier to manipulate?
Why is it easier to lie?
My thoughts is it is a test to all man kind
Did you pass or fail?
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

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Fate of Love
you can save love as secret
though you avoid and hide
love only has two fate
it grows or it dies
you will fail loving someone
to be same day by day
it grows or it dies
you say broken heart
shattered love into thousand pieces
but it still grows or it dies
old memories bring love from the past
but only the illusion
somewhere in time
it grows or it dies
you can keep love in beautiful box
protect it from storm and darkness
but love only has two fate
it grows or it dies
poem by Maria Sudibyo

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That Little Hole
Some people keep their love in a safe, then forget the combination
Some people think life's a masquerade ball, keeping up with the latest fashion
Some people sell dreams like rag magazines, on the busy fast food city street corners
Some people give, some people take, Some people share, some people fake
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground
Some people hide from the world and it’s charms, others flee from its tragedy
Some people wish for a place to call home while they kill off every living thing they see
Some people await the rapture and fate, others are simply looking for the cure
Some people lead some people follow, some people spit, some people swallow
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Me, I’m happy to be breathing
Some people search for Utopia and peace, but never seem to laugh
Some people forgot what it’s like to be young, having grown up much to fast
Some people preach salvation and hope to anyone willing to pay
Some people judge to quick, some never judge at all, some people climb, some are simply happy to fall
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground
Some people feel the mirror holds the key, to their tomorrows and prosperity
Some people are sealed off from the world by their hearts, their leaders, or their personality
Some people are like cannibals, they devour what they need and move on
Some people are criminals trying to make ends meet, steeling from others trying to make ends meet
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground
Some people feel its much more real, to chase rainbows on canvass painted skies
Some people think their shit don’t stink, some have the trust of a saint and tell lies
Some people’s minds react like a nuclear bomb, some people are one with the galaxy
Some people die as they lived, others live as they die, some never give up hope, others don’t even try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve, others forget what it means to be free
Some people speak of friendships and love, but don’t know what it means to be a friend
Some people search for enlightenment in the stars, in tea leaves, other find it floating in a glass
Some people smile, some people cry, some people live, some people try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Some people are afraid to take risks, or to be anything they wish until they die
Some people love the sound of their voice, some talk more than they listen
Some people don’t suffer fools only to find the jokes on them
Some judge colour, some judge creed, some judge God, goodness and peace
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole
Copyright Colin Coplin 1983/2011
poem by Colin Coplin

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Sonnet
.
Is thy heart weary of unfeeling men,
And chilled with the world's ice? Then come with me,
And I will bring thee to a pleasant glen
Lovely and lonely. There we'll sit, unviewed
By scoffing eye; and let our hearts beat free
With their own mutual throb. For wild and rude
The access is, and none will there intrude,
To poison our free thoughts, and mar our solitude!
Such scenes move not their feelings--for they hold
No fellowship with nature's loneliness;
The frozen wave reflects not back the gold
And crimson flushes of the sunset hour;
The rock lies cold in sunshine--not the power
Of heaven's bright orb can clothe its barrenness.
.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake

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The Immortal Souls
Gloomy sky is searching her brave twin skyscraper
sadly disappeared on this particular day five years ago
and I hear the lament of Lady Liberty who cries for the grave tragedy.
The loved ones mourn for the loss of three thousand hearts
those who left five years ago without saying a good-bye!
This catastrophe was written in every heart
and we all mourn on this sad day
from our bottom of the hearts
for the immortal souls.
Dedication to the innocent 9/11 victims.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga

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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXII
EXHORTING HER TO PATIENCE
Why do we fret at the inconstancy
Of our frail hearts, which cannot always love?
Time rushes onward, and we mortals move
Like waifs upon a river, neither free
To halt nor hurry. Sweet, if destiny
Throws us together for an hour, a day,
In the back--water of this quiet bay,
Let us rejoice. Before us lies the sea,
Where we must all be lost in spite of love.
We dare not stop to question. Happiness
Lies in our hand unsought, a treasure trove.
Time has short patience of man's vain distress;
And fate grows angry at too long delay;
And floods rise fast, and we are swept away.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

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Love
Love is a breach in the walls, a broken gate,
Where that comes in that shall not go again;
Love sells the proud heart's citadel to Fate.
They have known shame, who love unloved. Even then,
When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,
And agony's forgot, and hushed the crying
Of credulous hearts, in heaven - such are but taking
Their own poor dreams within their arms, and lying
Each in his lonely night, each with a ghost.
Some share that night. But they know love grows colder,
Grows false and dull, that was sweet lies at most.
Astonishment is no more in hand or shoulder,
But darkens, and dies out from kiss to kiss.
All this is love; and all love is but this.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1913)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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