Rilke in Rome
The chance remains of another time
and a life that is not ours...
no, there is not 'more' beauty here than elsewhere -
but there is much beauty here,
for there is much beauty everywhere.
Waters unendingly full of life move along the old aqueducts
into the great city
and dance in the many squares over white stone basins
and spread out in wide spacious pools
and murmur by day
and lift up their murmuring to the night
that is large and starry here and soft with winds.
And gardens are here, unforgettable avenues
and flights of stairs, stairs designed by Michelangelo,
stairs that are built after the pattern
of downward-gliding waters - broadly bringing forth
step out of step in their descent
like wave after wave.
Through such impressions one collects oneself,
wins oneself back again,
and learns slowly to recognize the very few things
in which the eternal endures
that one can love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Wave Offering...
In Commemoration of: (Lev.8: 27,29 & Lev.14: 24)
Beauty of Life
Please Don’t Cry
God Will Save Us
Back and Forth, By and By
Beauty of Love
Don’t Give Up and Go
Be Faithful
‘Til You Know, To and Fro’
Beauty of Longing
God Didn’t Stop
See, The Wave Offering
On Palms – Blood-Dropped (Matt.27: 35)
His Beauty is Loyal
A Lingering Truth
Our Beauty is Listening
For Beautiful Proof
Beautiful Lessons
Each Sunday Week
Do The Wave Offering
Believe - Preach - Speak
Beauty Everlasting
Look – Below and Above
A Beauteous Wave Offering
Thru Our Life and HIS Love …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Whole Mess... Almost
I ran up six flights of stairs
to my small furnished room
opened the window
and began throwing out
those things most important in life
First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink:
'Don't! I'll tell awful things about you!'
'Oh yeah! Well, I've nothing to hide… OUT!'
Then went God, glowering & whimpering in amazement:
'It's not my fault! I'm not the cause of it all!' 'OUT!'
Then Love, cooing bribes: 'You'll never know impotency!
All the girls on Vogue covers, all yours!'
I pushed her fat ass out and screamed:
'You always end up a bummer!'
I picked up Faith Hope Charity
all three clinging together:
'Without us you'll surely die!'
'With you I'm going nuts! Goodbye!'
The Beauty… ah, Beauty--
As I led her to the window
I told her: 'You I loved the best in life
…but you're a killer; Beauty kills!'
Not really meaning to drop her
I immediately ran downstairs
getting there just in time to catch her
'You saved me!' she cried
I put her down and told her: 'Move on.'
Went back up those six flights
went to the money
there was no money to throw out.
The only thing left in the room was Death
hiding beneath the kitchen sink:
'I'm not real!' It cried
'I'm just a rumor spread by life…'
Laughing I threw it out, kitchen sink and all
and suddenly realized Humor
was all that was left--
All I could do with Humor was to say:
'Out the window with the window!'
poem by Gregory Corso
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Did You Say You Make It On The Stairs?
did i really hear you right?
making love on the stairs
and then the boy
comes surprisingly
asking both of you
what are you both doing
on the stairs
both of you naked
while he pumps
on you
like one ever hungry
lover?
how shameful!
well, okay,
the boy is your son
and the man
is your husband
was the bed broken?
or the stairs
too exciting?
was the marriage
too boring?
well, ok,
i understand,
you split with him
could be the
staggering steps on the stairs
could be that the boy
finally understands
could be that the bed
is not that warm
you split for good
and uhuh?
so you are now free
at last
from those stairs
from the bed
and the boy has to make
the inevitable choice
between pa and ma
the stairs he will always remember
anyhow
yes, the boy not the pa
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Beauty Of A Poem
The beauty of a poem
The beauty of music
The beauty of light
The beauty of life
The beauty which makes us want to live life more
The beauty which pains us inside
The beauty in longing.
The beauty we come upon by surprise
The beauty of the day and the beauty of the night
The beauty we all have inside us
The beauty we can see and feel and never explain
The beauty that lifts us up
The beauty that makes us want to live more
The beauty that makes us reach out to God
The beauty we want to thank God for
The beauty of lilacs
The beauty of autumn leaves
The beauty of the people we love
The beauty that pervades life
The beauty that turns away from us
And will not let us be a part of it
The beauty we hold on to fragilely
As a driven leaf
The beauty the beauty the beauty
Oh life oh God of goodness oh death
The beauty we can never see
And the Beauty within us all
Oh God
The Beauty in us and Beyond us all.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Don't Dance Me To The End
Don’t dance me to the end of love, but dance
me to the place where it resumes as if beginning
anew, each time, with nothing left to chance
except the penalties that come from sinning.
Like Babylonians let me feel you moving,
but let us not, before we go to bed,
recall Egyptians with their books approving
the afterlife they dream up for the dead.
While we are dancing, let’s think only of
the here and now, and so together burn
with passion for the life and after-love
that follows us when on one bed we turn,
but when in bed, recalling Babylon
whose waters both our ancestors once drank,
let us remember times that, though bygone,
from memories of lovetimes never shrank.
Inspired by Leonard Cohen’s “Dance Mee to the End of Love”:
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
11/14/07
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Mankind Butoh...
Mankind is trying to figure out how to stand up,
but
they all fall down the stairs.
They are frustrated for a moment.
Then
they move around,
learns their abilities and surroundings
and
gain confidence as they sit upright and smile.
Then through a little ingenuity they hop up. Their legs are weak and they fall down again.
They look at their feett like, 'What's wrong with it? '
Then it dawns on them that they won't get back up those stairs any time soon.
Exasperated, they slump down.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Is Beauty
what is beauty?
beauty to most is the appearance of others and thats what they judged on,
but to the people who step back from the world beauty is much more then that,
beauty is personality and the way u cary yourself,
beauty is looking in the the eyes of a lover,
beauty is a new day shining on the harisen,
the ability to start over and change your mind,
its telling the truth when its easier to lie,
beauty is a new babe in the arms of a loving mother,
beauty is a person with a heart who can love unconditionally and rise above the insults of closed minded men and women out there that think sex and appearance is all that maders in life,
beauty is letting your tiers show to everyone and not feel that your weak,
its standing up and letting the world know your there and your not going to back down no mader what it throws at u,
beauty is knowing that a heart of ice or stone it’s still a heart but is not been worked on enough to see what’s under the surfes
poem by Gabby Lewis
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0200 Dementia
Now what did I come upstairs for?
Of course I haven’t forgotten your name,
young lady, it’s just that I can’t remember it
Why am I going upstairs?
I only just got up
No dear, you’re wrong,
I always pay on account
Where’s my bed?
Isn’t this upstairs?
Take the paper back
to the newsagent, someone’s
already done the crossword
Of course I’m undressed,
I just came upstairs
Of course you can sign my name dear,
they know me at the post office
Why is it so dark downstairs,
I’ve only just got up
Why should I give you money for the gas,
Young man? I don’t even know you
I’m sure there are more stairs
than there used to be
Stop being so insulting, young man,
it’s only money
No of course I don’t need help with the stairs,
I know my own house
No dear, you sign for it, I’m sure
your boss will understand
Somebody changed the stairs
when I was out, they
aren’t the same
Why are people so rude about
money these days?
Ask my father to speak
to that young man
The stairs are steeper than they were,
somebody’s changed them
Who are you, I didn’t
ask you to come in…
Of course it’s my house,
it’s just that you changed the stairs
Tell the bank manager to
come and see me in the morning.
Why does that man upstairs
move the stairs at night?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Beauty, Beautious, Beautiful
Beauty is not a superficial form
Each has their own in essential nature
And in the actions they perform
Until the dissolution of their life
To leave beauty’s impressions in our hearts
Yesterdays beauty never leaves or departs.
Beauty is all around
Each and every place it may be found
As you look with open eyes
Upon the forms that nature makes
Then man seeks to imitate
Yearning to match that beauty all around.
Beauty if you cannot find
Beauty must be in mind
Beauty is in purity
Beauty of simplicity
Beauty runs right through and through
Beauty in me, and them, and you.
Beauty, beauteous, beautiful
Beauty in heaven
Beauty in fire
Beauty in earth
And finally beauty in a simple verse.
poem by David Taylor
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All through eternity
All through eternity
Beauty unveils His exquisite form
in the solitude of nothingness;
He holds a mirror to His Face
and beholds His own beauty.
he is the knower and the known,
the seer and the seen;
No eye but His own
has ever looked upon this Universe.
His every quality finds an expression:
Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;
Love, the life-giving garden of this world.
Every branch and leaf and fruit
Reveals an aspect of His perfection-
They cypress give hint of His majesty,
The rose gives tidings of His beauty.
Whenever Beauty looks,
Love is also there;
Whenever beauty shows a rosy cheek
Love lights Her fire from that flame.
When beauty dwells in the dark folds of night
Love comes and finds a heart
entangled in tresses.
Beauty and Love are as body and soul.
Beauty is the mine, Love is the diamond.
They have together
since the beginning of time-
Side by side, step by step.
The Day You Started To Walk
Baby, When you were eight months old,
you were thin and enterprising,
liked to know about everything,
that were kept at heights and locked,
you crawled for a month all around,
and picked up anything from the ground,
so we made our home 'baby safe'
you did like to crawl up the stairs,
first head in front and then turned,
tried to crawl back in the stairs,
so I taught you,
to climb up step by step,
when I checked you, you reached the top,
with much ease and valiant,
made noise from the top to carry you down.
Do you remember the day,
that you started to walk?
I still remember you standing up,
At first it was very tough for you,
to carry your own weight on your feet,
you cried a lot and I was sad,
but I had to let you go through,
the life's lesson and you are the one,
must learn your own lesson and,
no one can ever help you to do it for you.
you held the cupboard for support,
and started to take the steps,
you were crying a lot,
and the drops of tears fell,
on your beautiful cheeks,
I was there beside you,
to hold you, in case if you might fall,
watching you walking,
catching in the camera and memory,
slowly in two days,
you did not need support,
started to walk,
slowly and steadily,
with both hands wide open,
to keep yourselves balanced,
you started the journey,
to travel on this earth,
as a courageous independent human,
with that first step taken,
just in front of me.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Beauty of Love!
I enjoy beauty of star studded night sky;
I enjoy beauty of harmonious waves of sea;
I enjoy beauty of peaceful living of people;
I enjoy beauty of natural poems of poets!
Beauty of human life I enjoy in all forms;
Beauty of fun loving children I enjoy often;
Beauty of smiling flowers I enjoy in garden;
Beauty of art work I enjoy in all forms ever!
World is full of beauty Nature bestows to all;
World is paradise due to love and beauty ever;
World is the abode of man's cultural refinement;
World is the spring board to heaven at the end!
Beauty of love is eternal for all to enjoy in life
Evolving animal into man and man into divine!
poem by Ramesh T A
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The eyes of impressionism
Saints.
Like swans, gliding untroubled so it seems
to us, lazing on the river bank
of a Seurat summer Sunday afternoon,
gliding over the surface of the waters
as love perhaps, on that first day;
they as floating symbols
of the beauty beyond beauty;
their work, invisible to us who watch
Painters.
Like waterlilies, resting in perfection
on the surface of the waters
as love rests, sure of their own beauty;
painting just the sunlight
falling on things, moving on
more slowly than we see;
the depth of the waters
in the painter’s mind and heart;
his work invisible to us who watch
his dabbing at the canvas
as a dabchick bobs in the water, his mind
moving as time moves;
for him, sitting at the canvas,
always time present,
in the water-garden already on his palette
Cataracts.
How far a word from
the stillness around him as he sits,
his beard a little yellow from the nicotine,
seeing the waterlilies as if for the first time,
but each year the water seems to tell
more about time itself… like Proust;
where is time going in this painting?
Eyes.
Cataracts, yes; but perhaps over time
they too have sought to serve him,
become themselves, impressionists,
presenting him with images
prepared like canvasses are prepared;
gently watering inner gardens
between the eyes and mind
yes, that’s Monsieur Monet over there;
don’t disturb him; but if you stand
a little way behind him, you just may
enter the stillness around him,
enter the stillness of his mind,
see with his eyes, that work
invisible to those of us who watch
which swans and saints and artists know.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Four Colors
I once met a girl named blue
full of color and vivid light
her beauty captured by fluffs of white
Then along came gray
Her angers screams thunder and her wrath falls to earth as a blinding flash
her beauty is both angry and sad
Before I knew it, red and orange had showed up
dressed in sunset, their crimson kiss delivered love
Their beauty, a poem written as rays of light
The last to show up was black
freckled with white, behold her romantic absence of light
her beauty forever cloaked by the uncharted waters of love
Here lies my sky
four colors that have changed my life
their beauty is ever flowing, along with the sands of time
poem by Carlos Patino
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One Step Into The Light
One step into the light
One step away from night
Its the hardest step youre gonna take
The ship to take you there
Is waiting at the head
Of the stairs that lead up through your opening mind
Above the dark despair
Shines a light that we can share
Close your eyes and look up in between your brows
Then slowly breathing in
Feel the life force streaming in
Hold it there, then send it back to him
All the old things are returning
Cosmic circles ever turning
All the truth weve been yearning for
Life is our saviour, saviour, saviour, save your soul
The river of living breath
Is flowing through the sun
He was there before the earth began
The world will drag on you
Use his love to pull you through
Find the mission of your life and start to be
All the old things are returning
Cosmic circles ever turning
All the truth weve been yearning for
Life is our saviour, saviour, saviour, save your soul
Theres one thing I can do
Play my mellotron for you
Try to blow away your city blues
Your dreams are not unfound
Get your feet back on the ground
The truth will set us free, we cannot lose
We cannot love, we just have to choose
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beneath the Stairs
After you left us
You came back
You found me crying
Beneath the stairs
Of your house, what used to be before?
But I have to wonder
Whether you really looked behind what was
Beneath the stairs
Because when you found me crying
I was crying just for you
For your life, your old life
That you used to love
And now I worry once more
About what you saw when you looked
Beneath the stairs
If you felt what my heart thought had happened
When you were here, you understood everything
You were always by my side
But then you said those fatal words-
“I can’t stay here anymore”
My Idea of beauty
Beauty is the sensation of your heart skipping a beat,
when eyes full of mischief glance at you...
Beauty is the smile which appears on your lips, when you think of the way he smiles at you...
Beauty is in the heart which touches another
Beauty is tender hands holding each other
Beauty is strong arms holding you warm
Beauty is in water, beauty is in weather,
beauty is in air, beauty is in life
Beauty is in love, beauty is in wind...
Beauty surrounds you days and nights
yet no one knows beauty's heights...
poem by Nitya Pillai
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What a Beauty-Full Life
Beauty is in flowers, and the petals
Bathing in the early morning dew
Beauty is in the eyes of a father
When his son takes the first step
Beauty is on the face of a baby,
Sleeping in mother's lap
Beauty is in freedom,
When you fly high on the wings of hope
Beauty is in the expressions of a poor man
When he gets food after eternity
Beauty is in the pride of a teacher
When his student supersedes
Beauty is in the compassion of a devotee
When he finds solace
Beauty is in the innocence of a child
When he asks you questions
Beauty is in the sips of laughter,
You share with your friends
Beauty is in the springs of desire
that arrive after a prolonged autumn
Beauty is in the cry of a woman,
Whose womb succeeds
Beauty is in the silence,
When you don't speak, and you say a lot
Beauty is in the warmth of passion
That builds around the arms of a lover
Beauty is when those small fights,
End with tears of joy
Beauty is when the first raindrop,
Kisses your cheek
Beauty is in perseverance,
When the world's showing off
Beauty is in the enigma,
When everything's certain
Beauty is in a poem,
Where poetry meets prose
Beauty is in little chunks of life,
Filled with joys and sorrows
Beauty is in your eyes,
your heart, and in every single breath
Beauty is when you say,
"What a Beauty-Full Life..."
poem by Piyush Kaushal
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Stepping On The Stairs
in wanting to go up
you step on the stairs
on the first step
you have to please this black dog
with the meat of a cat
on the second step
you have to deceive this white cat
with the whiskers of a fish
on the third step
you have to please this pink mouse
with a collar of a black dog
rising on the fourth step
you have to convince the hawk
that the white cat is dead
advancing on the fifth step
the bull demands that the fish
must be caught with its fins clipped off
the sixth step is meticulous
you have to find a way to
reconcile the black cat and the white dog
on the seventh you will be confused
what to do and whom to really please
to reach the eight step
the ninth step has this owl
speaking to you to finally proceed
to the tenth step
and you want to advance some more
trying to figure out what these animals
are asking you to do without
creating all the chaos
you want to please them all
to get what you want
finally you take the tenth step
and you are too weary and guilty
and up there you find
there is really nothing worth
the taking at the end
there is just the wind
blowing your hair telling you nothing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Evil Comes
I don? like this anymore than you
In fact I? scared
At the top of the stairs in the dark
Throw away all the dreams you had
Slow and broke
And just for you
You were barely there
Hey little girl where? your momma gone
Has she left you scared
At the top of the stairs
In the dark
It? too late for come backs
And I?e been wrong before
Now I need
I need no more
Except for you
Making up the sides
Evil is when evil comes
At the top of the Stairs
At the top of the Stairs
And in the dark
The world won? listen
And it gets this scared
Standing there at the top of the stairs
In the dark
Come on baby
Let? lose this fear
And let? stand here
Where it? always fair
And never dark
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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