En.Citatepedia^®.ro

This peach my teacher

This peach
that I’ve just eaten,
been graced by,
been blessed by,
been taught by,
been transformed by…

it’s as if some
Messenger of the Gods
had arrived, stopwatch in hand,
saying, everything holds in perfection
but a little moment -
as William Shakespeare noted:

so I’m going to arrange things so that
as the stopwatch ticks out
ten seconds to that moment,
you’ll reach out your hand to the fruitbowl,
take it, feel its yielding softness under velvet skin,
cut it carefully twice through the poles,
once equatorially… and as it falls apart,
spear one segment; eat…

this peach
was full of what even Rilke
could say no more than, peachness..

it was a living proof of Plato:
its perfection taught me
where essence meets experience,
where actuality meets the ideal of peach;
where a singular perfection speaks of
all perfections; where perfection
leaves from perfection, naught else but perfect…

how could such a perfect thing
have been invented by one
who does not love? Who is not love?
This peach is love itself, and I the worshipper
must needs make of myself a living God
to whom to kneel, to offer praise and gratitude
for all perfection known..

this peach my teacher.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfection

Your cold and poor-spirited love
Was like running water upon my hands...
I did for your love, all that I could....
As an imperfect man that I am...
I offered you just possible things...
Warmth when you were cold,
And consolation when you felt hopeless...
You search for perfection
Which you will never find...
Perfect is the rain that falls
In the spring time...
Perfect are the flowers that grow
in a real garden of love....
Perfect is the smile in a child
Who plays with toys...
Perfection is a man
Who had it all
And now is getting tired and old...
Perfection are the memories
In your heart and mind...
Perfection is something
You shall never find
On me or any other man
Since perfection is just
In your dreams and imagination...
Now perfection becomes
Just like a story untold....
How sad it is
That my love you can no longer have
Neither my hands again hold...
o! Woman, wish you good luck
In your new try...

COPY WRITE©2009

poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Perfection

Hush little baby, gotta be strong
cause in this world we are born to fight
Be the best prove them wrong
A winners work is never done
Reach the top number one
Perfection...
Oh perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
Ive worn my pride as my perfection
Perfection....oh!
I was taught to be tough
That the best that you can be aint enough
Crack the whip, sacrifice
But I found out paradise had a price
I didnt know it then
But oh I know it now
You gotta work as hard at love
To make the love work out
You know this heart of mine
Had made some big mistakes
I guess that when it comes to love
I just dont know what it takes...
Chorus:
All my life Ive been driven by perfection
Pushed it to the limit every day and night
Whoa...Ive been driven by perfection
But nothins perfect when love aint right
Nothins perfect when love aint right
Gave it all played my part
I gave everything I had but my heart
Worked so hard made a name
But the loneliness inside stays the same
When love is here to today
And then its gone today
You got a list of lovers like a resume
You gotta take some times
To make it something real
I guess that when it comes to love
I just dont know how to feel
Chorus repeat
Oh perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
Ive worn my pride as my perfection
Im goin crazy with perfection

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peach Tree On The Southern Wall

The peach tree on the southern wall
Has basked so long beneath the sun,
Her score of peaches great and small
Bloom rosy, every one.
A peach for brothers, one for each,
A peach for you and a peach for me;
But the biggest, rosiest, downiest peach
For Grandmamma with her tea.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Yogi post-it to William Carlos Williams

Thanks for leaving one…

I can only say,
that in the passing moment
the cold perfection of that plum
reflected my perfection
reflecting all perfection

and the beauty of that moment
was but my own beauty
which must be, is, the beauty of the One

so I hope the remainder
were as perfect, beautiful
for you

so why not
write a poem about this?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Perfection

(desmond child/ diane warren)
Producer for bonnie, cher & darlene: desmond child
Recorded in 1987, bonnie did guest vocals on this song for cher's self-titled lp, along with 60's session queen darlene love.lyrics taken from uk cd sleeve.
Hush little baby, gotta be strong
'cause in this world we are born to fight...
Be the best, prove them wrong
A winner's work is never done...
Reach the top, number one
Perfection...
Oh, perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
I've worn my pride as my protection
Perfection...oh!
I was taught to be tough
The best that you can be ain't enough
Crack the whip, sacrifice
But i found out paradise had a price
I didn't know it then
But oh i know it now
You gotta work as hard as love
To make the love work out
You know this heart of mine
Has made some big mistakes
I guess that when it comes to love
I just don't know what i takes...
Chorus:
All my life i've been driven by perfection
Pushed it to the limit every day and night
Whoa...i've been driven by perfection
But nothing's perfect when love ain't right
Nothing's perfect when love ain't right...
Gave it all
Played my part
I gave everything i had but my heart
Worked so hard
Made a name
But the loneliness inside stays the same
When love is here today
And then it's gone today
You got a list of lovers lookin' like a resum?br> you gotta take some time
To make it something real
I guess that when it comes to love
I just don't know how to feel
(chorus)
Oh, perfection
You drive me crazy with perfection
I've worn my pride as my protection
I'm goin' crazy with perfection

song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0337Just a moment

The usual disgusting scene:
the sneezes coming one after the other
so no fun enjoying the one;
the coughs like an iron file along the lung,
coughs that just weren't going anywhere;
and as for the nose-blowing stuff -
beats any horror film in Sensurround...

and in the midst of all this carefully selected
personal misery.

a moment of perfection.

there it was, full on,
looking one straight in the eye:
perfection.
and because it was perfect
all you could do was look at it and register
and because it was perfect,
it was peaceful
and because it was peaceful it was still
and because it was still it wasn't going to go away

and all you could do was, to just be 'yes! '

and because perfection is - well, perfect -
there has to be Mr Other
saying in best TV style
'So that's it, huh? Just that? And I'm supposed to get the message?
Do me a favour...'

but it hadn't gone away.

Well that's how it was this afternoon.
You get the evidence without the commentary.
The back-up.
The instruction book in five not-quite languages.
The friend who's been there.
Or some less extreme scenario.

But no. That's it.
And you know you won't forget it.

Call you later.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sexy Peach

You're a sexy peach.
Delicious on the eyes!
Igniting my taste buds...
To get close enough,
To eat as my treat!

Sexy peach...
I'd love to rub against your fuzziness.
And cuddle on the beach.

Sexy peach...
I wish to feel what now appeals,
And even lick the pit of it!

I'd like to bite every slice...
With the dripping of the nutrients done,
Provided by the succulent Sun.
And your fuzzy on my lips...
Inviting you to kiss,
That sweetness I can not resist.
Let's share it and strip away...
Those inhabitions exciting the addmission,
We both desire to pleasure and ride.

Sexy peach...
I'd love to rub against your fuzziness.
And cuddle on the beach.

Sexy peach...
I wish to feel what now appeals,
And even lick the pit of it!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Perfect of One

So if this kiss
I mean to kiss
happens and it
runs amiss
and you or I
suffer disappointment
will we forever eschew
the kissing
and its sweet intents
because we sought
that which was more perfect
than either of
us?
That I guess would be silly.
But how sweet is the love
held in our breasts
how wonderful is the kiss never made
how perfect the kiss before the touch of lips
gentle touch;
and the kiss is done;
it may or may not be the perfect gem
the before-kiss was.

Ah, life so often
interrupts my dreams
and forces me to love
me imperfectly
and you as well.

No, imperfect is not the word;
perhaps it is better seen
as the union of our two worlds
which by definition means me
and not me coming together
bringing home the point
that can perfection mate
when I am the only one in the portrait,
and a perfect of one;
which is not really
perfection at all;
or is that really
only the Perfection
of Alone?

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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I am what you would call a stern taskmaster. I expect perfection. And then a little more perfection when perfection is offered.

quote by Estee Lauder
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Complete and total perfection will come about only when we feel that our perfection is no perfections as long as the rest of humanity remains imperfect.

quote by Sri Chinmoy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragment 10

Perfection
Where is this perfection?
In our fingers
That do not have the same sizes?
In our feet that stumble?
In our eyes that do not see too well?
In our skin that sheds off from time to time?
In our broken selves?
In our shattered days, our past haunting
Our future dwindling like
Stones powdered by
Time’s hammering
Hours

Perfection
You feel it sometimes
It is there
It is not yet here
It waits for us
And we are not rushing still
We are frozen
Like trees in winter
Come summer
We shall wilt like twigs
And leaves

Perfection remains
A quest
For the waters
To quench our thirsts
And it is not yet here
Our wells are dry
The rivers too muddy
The sea too salty
The spring polluted

Where then?
Wait, just wait,
He has the answer.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Little Peach

A little peach in the orchard grew,--
A little peach of emerald hue;
Warmed by the sun and wet by the dew,
It grew.

One day, passing that orchard through,
That little peach dawned on the view
Of Johnny Jones and his sister Sue--
Them two.

Up at that peach a club they threw--
Down from the stem on which it grew
Fell that peach of emerald hue.
Mon Dieu!

John took a bite and Sue a chew,
And then the trouble began to brew,--
Trouble the doctor couldn't subdue.
Too true!

Under the turf where the daisies grew
They planted John and his sister Sue,
And their little souls to the angels flew,--
Boo hoo!

What of that peach of the emerald hue,
Warmed by the sun, and wet by the dew?
Ah, well, its mission on earth is through.
Adieu!

1880.

poem by Eugene Field
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Images-Perfection Ever Flames, An Endless Supply of Moths

As I am,
I'm perceived Perfection
upon my ivory pedestal
in brilliant light
crystalline.

But these are my prison walls
Uniques Glow
is Perfection's Pall
which exiles me from that outer world
of reality.
I cannot mingle there.

My existence is constrained.

As bright as my Radiant Glow,
upon approach
to your world
I would dim
and be destroyed.

We can talk you and I
in Perfection's Harmony
but the moment you gain
my speaking voice,
my thoughts,
all is taken from Perfection's Shelf
and another less perfect me appears.

Nothing will compare
to me as I was.
Should I
in coming to you
destroy that Perfection which is now so dear?

Conundrum.

Corporeal life
is Kryptonite
yet mental isolation is too numbing.
I am Beauty in the light
but unavailable;
forever Uncoming.

Sometimes
Beauty is torture
we ourselves inflict
to escape our worldly life.
But since its shape
is mental most
it cannot ever be.

Pity the person
whose countenance
is corporeal beauty
realized;
they will have the sterner test
of not living up to hearts image most.

Each prince
whom we have constructed
alas, can only live with us
til that moment first,
the single word;
then the dream slips.

Honeymoons and marriages
might last longer I think
if we did not first wed
our Perfect Prince beforehand.

Is it not truth plain
that love itself is only grown
when 1st Prince Born
is laid to rest
and Prince Now
is allowed to live?

How better ground is it
to love the flower in the garden now
than those ones first grown
in Furrows of Gold
in Dream World
where Perfection's Hoe
was Loves Seeder
and Instigator
of the visions
we now hold
of what ought to be?

How can we in flesh and blood
compete with perfect diamond visions
which never fade or rust?

Whose hand is warmer still
than the Princely hand held in our dreams?

Who is sadder than
those who loved us;
yet whose faces are shadowed
by cold, Perfection's Glow?

How to dream
our destiny
yet still
love those
'round us;
remembering these ones
are the ones who will
when we, in time, tomorrow
are no longer our Own Prince
or Princess Image;
no longer Perfection's Darling.

Rest you better in Human Arms;
while they grow old and leather
they'll not in the end
take your pride and sell it away
to Dream Land Barons
and Rock Star Princes
who all live in Hollywood.

What to do?
abandon Vision
goals and Prince;
leave aside Destiny?

No, we must grapple with
this conundrum sent:
wrapped up
Perfection and Beauty;
living along side
uneasily,
with what is merely Human,

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Ripest Peach

The ripest peach is highest on the tree --
And so her love, beyond the reach of me,
Is dearest in my sight. Sweet breezes, bow
Her heart down to me where I worship now!

She looms aloft where every eye may see
The ripest peach is highest on the tree.
Such fruitage as her love I know, alas!
I may not reach here from the orchard grass.

I drink the sunshine showered past her lips
As roses drain the dewdrop as it drips.
The ripest peach is highest on the tree,
And so mine eyes gaze upward eagerly.

Why -- why do I not turn away in wrath
And pluck some heart here hanging in my path? --
Love's lower boughs bend with them -- but, ah me!
The ripest peach is highest on the tree!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Human Perfection?

Perfection:
The Holy Grail of human beings
Yet;
Masked by parental ignorance
Fogged by societal imprinting
Deemed impossible by self-loathing victims
Impugned and judged by the self-righteous
Struck blind by fear and guilt

Perfection:
Cannot be attained by deeds,
Rather by recognizing true self
As a Divine Act of God here and now
As all is fashioned from the “Light of Creation”
Rejoice precious ones' for perfection lay within

A Master once taught, “Know thy self”

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Perfect Blame

If I write the perfect poem
then my creation
mocks me
because it is perfect
and I know I am not.
The imperfect poem
is better for me
yet perfection
haunts
and I continue to strive
for its outlines
even as I concede
imperfection's continence
is more like me.
It may be I have to concede
that I and all of us are perfect
as we are inside
but once perfection moves outside my skin
the world taints it
with its imperfections
and I have to take the blame.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Perfection

how can you describe perfection
i think perfect is a group of things
and what is the group name for those
i think the name for all perfectionis gemma

joyfull, happy, fun
kind, generous, friendly
emotional, beautiful, cute
sexy, smiling, wonderful
like a star, angel and godess

she's worth arguing about
she's worth the trouble
because she's got this look
of which i cannot describe
maybe its a face of love maybe of perfection

no its the face
of my most wonderful gemma
whom is undoubtetly
PERFECTION

poem by Daniel Laurence
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Perfection

Perfection is a life-time work,
We try attaining through sheer toil,
And hardly see the peak at all,
But keep sliding down, even fall!

Perfection is akin mirage,
That dupes our senses and our mind,
And drives us crazy, crestfallen,
Like horizon that stays untrue!

Perfection is subjective then,
And differs from issues, moments,
Making man give up halfway through,
And leaving him imperfect still!

Perfection is a ghost-like goal,
That hardly can be half-attained,
Despite our best perseverance,
Defeating us well in the end!

poem by John Celes
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A minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection.

Chuck Palahniuk in Fight Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perfection

I found perfection in her smile,
Her golden strands of hair,
Her peachy lips I'd kiss a while,
If we had time to spare.
I found her beauty matched her style,
The clothes she chose to wear...
Upon her heart, meant to beguile,
With love beyond compare...

I found perfection in her eyes,
Like twinkling stars of light...
And in the stirring of my sighs
And love's great appetite...
Yet most of all, I realise,
Beyond her teeth so white,
Her mouth speaks words so worldly wise,
That doubts in her take flight.

I found perfection in her heart,
She says beats now for me...
As if she's struck by Cupid's dart
And filled with ecstacy...
What mysteries love can impart
To spirits fancy free...
I found perfection from the start
And all eternity...

poem by Denis Martindale
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