Unicorn 10
Did they already have the image of that creature
grazing deep within their heart and mind
before the day when it revealed itself, gentle, sweet and mild,
living its life of glorious detachment,
invulnerable, free as freedom lives forever, is itself?
Or did it reveal itself to those who needed
the vision of itself, magnetic in its beauty;
the reassurance that it's there, and
may be loved; loved unconditionally?
It's difficult to say which is the truth.
But those who've seen it, leave it with the memory
that their lives are merely a battlefield,
a place of examination, a ground for test -
but that within, without, all this
the unicorn lives within themselves; detached; serene; and
shining; shining.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Unicorn 13
who does not wish, openly or secretly,
to meet it, in some quiet place?
even a secret image in the mind's dead index
of those materialists who
deny it a reality, calling it a
‘mythological creature’ – as if
the mind were not superior to flesh and earth?
this, the very reason for
its longevity – who would not,
were it material, have hunted it by now
for a prince’s ransom, its magic horn ground down, hunted to
extinction – so that we would say
‘as dead as unicorn’ and left
the dodo forgotten and unmourned?
and so, to be a myth is logical…
and thus, the unicorn lives, beyond
some banal death at a hunter’s hands;
easy, peaceful in its own preserves,
grazing in the pure air of our minds,
free to remind us that we too are born free.
the secrets of creation
hide in such unthought hills as paradox –
we, yearning for a meeting
in a place we know not where
where in that still and silent place
loud with silent joy,
moving in ways beyond the movement seen,
we meet it when the looking stops
and paradox on paradox,
once met, we do not seek to meet and meet again –
its tender single glance
tells us for ever that it always lived
inside ourselves; we ourselves
that ‘mythological creature’,
more real than our mirrored self,
grazing in the wooded groves of stillness,
the mossy dells of silence; or,
its wild mane wind-tossed,
on the flying highest hills of freedom
or bright-eyed, salt-browed, white
between the spraying waves and curling surf:
knowing ourselves to be, forever to have been:
unicorn
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Why Did You Leave Me
If only you could see the tears
In the world you left behind
If only you could hear my heart
Just one more time
Even when I close my eyes
There is an image of your face
Once again I come to realize
You have lost that I cant replace
Soul then die
Its keeping for the lonely
Since the day that your were gone
Why did you leave me
Soul then die
In my heart you were the only
And your memory lives on
Why did you leave me
Soul then die
Walking down the streets on nothing will
Where our love was young and free
Cant believe just what an empty place
It has come to be
I would give my life away
If it can only be the safe
Cas I could still the voice inside of me
That is calling out your name
Soul then die
Its keeping for the lonely
Since the day that your were gone
Why did you leave me
Soul then die
In my heart you were the only
And your memory lives on
Why did you leave me
Soul then die
Time will never change the things
That you told me
And after all we mean to be
Love would bring us back to you and me
If only you could see...
Soul then die(soul then die)
Its keeping for the lonely(for the lonely)
Since the day that your were gone
Why did you leave me
Soul then die
In my heart you were the only
And your memory lives on
Why did you leave me
Soul then die...
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Isn't Free...
Who says our freedom is free? Not Me.
True, We are freer than most, but not enough,
that we should boast.
Before you say Freedom is free, stop and count the cost
of all the lives lost,
Freedom isn't free, when there's killing in our streets.
Freedom isn't free, to the Soldier that is waiting to be shipped over seas.
Freedom isn't free, with the pain, he or she is feeling inside, with
the thought of having to leave they're loved one's behind, and
it hurts so bad that it brings them to their knees.
Freedom isn't free, when your living in uncertainty.
Freedom isn't free, having to say good-bye, to a loved one that
is going off to war.Freedom isn't free, to a soldier who is on the front lines, knowing he or she, could die anytime.
Freedom isn't free when your lying in bed,
waiting and wondering, if you'll ever see your loved ones alive again.
Freedom isn't free, when a little child crys in the night,
for his or her Mommy and Daddy, and they're not there to hold them close, and comfort them, and to ease their fears, and wipe away they're tears. And all those in all the other wars, and the lives that are still being lost at this very moment.
Do you still say Freedom is free?
Freedom isn't free, when a Soldier is wounded in battle.
When news reaches, Family and friends at home,
And their told that their Soldier is wounded far beyond repair,
The loss and pain felt can not compare.
Freedom isn't free, with all those many Soldiers that wished they
had died because of all the pain in their broken up bodies.
Freedom isn't free, when your lying in bed, and you hear that dreaded
tap on your door.And you pray to God that you were only having a bad dream.
Freedom isn't free when you open the door and listen to the
bugle play, and you feel a sudden chill.
Everything goes still.
Freedom isn't free, when there is a Flag being draped
over a coffin, of a Brother, Sister, or a friend.
Freedom isn't free, when you think of all the children,
of the mothers and the wives, of Fathers, sons and husbands, whose
lives have been interrupted.
Freedom isn't free, when you think about the graveyard at the
bottom of the sea, of the unmarked graves in Arlington.
Who say's Freedom is Free? Not Me!
Written 7/23/008
BY Nora Eason
poem by Nora Eason
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When She Loved Me
When somebody loved me
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart
And when she was sad
I was there to dry her tears
And when she was happy
So was I
When she loved me
Through the summer and the fall
We had each other, that was all
Just she and I together
Like it was meant to be
And when she was lonely
I was there to comfort her
And I knew that she loved me
So the years went by
I stayed the same
But she began to drift away
I was left alone
Still I waited for the day
When she'd say I will always love you
Lonely and forgotten,
I'd never thought she'd look my way
And she smiled at me and held me just like she used to do
Like she loved me
When she loved me
When somebody loved me
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart
When she loved me
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unicorn 4
What is known, is known – known gently,
meekly, mildly, sweetly; that’s the experience
that men bring back who’ve seen that creature plain.
But since the unicorn grazes in all our minds and hearts,
each has his image. Poets love to write of that creature
as they picture it; but what of those who met it plain
in forest glade, upon the hills, or white amidst the waves?
It’s said that, then, some poets put away their pens forever or awhile,
despairing that their word-hoard holds no words
that can describe those things invisible which
that creature brings to the mind, when met;
some can no longer give it even a name
as if that very word can seem to falsify.
They’re asked, was it, just, beautiful? – and hesitate,
because what yesterday, was ‘beautiful’ is a different word
today; that creature shows them that a word
means what it does; today, ‘beauty’ has done more in them;
it speaks a unity which is not static – can do all things
as Helen’s beauty, so we’re told, could make a war from peace;
so beauty can make peace from war – as poets prove.
And so, those who’ve seen it plain but wish
to say no word that might be less than truth
find that its subtle magic guides their pen
so that they may write with that same ease
with which that creature lives,
write of any, and of all things.
And all who’ve seen it – who’ve seen it move
within the utter stillness of itself
as never before have they seen a creature move
and hold that in themselves, wish, wordless, to return
to be again in that creature’s still shared self-presence;
the wisest of them finally to find
that it may graze forever in the poet’s mind.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Only dead dreams can bring her back
Buried, beneath the ground so deep
no soul on earth can find,
I buried the only woman I loved
in her grave and in my mind.
But she's on her way to heaven now,
to be with him tonight.
She's on her way to heaven
after he took her from my life!
To be his loving angel!
forever in his arms.
In all her satin shrouds,
she yearns to be with God!
But on her way to heaven,
she pauses just a while.
On her way to heaven
she remembers one last time!
that in my mind she lives forever!
in every memory she never died! ,
..........on her way to heaven
my wife will come back in my dreams tonight.
Shining Starr! !
shining star, shining star,
for how you shine so bright
your my wonderful delight.
shining star, shining star,
why is it you?
is is because i loved you to much?
too much i couldnt see.
shining star, shining star,
my heart is breaking,
i didnt have a clue what to do,
until the day come when i met you.
shining star, shining star,
i feel so used,
but why is this?
i have no clue.
shining star, shining star,
its not only you personality that shines to me,
its you insanity.
ohh shining star, shining star,
what am i going to do without you?
i need you in my life again,
to tell you its alright,
because i love you soo much,
its more than words could write,
now back to reality,
so time to go for now,
but i shall be back.. I MISS YOU! ! !
poem by Kirstiie Chapmann
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead
WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD
When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-
When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and God�s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?
When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-
When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-
When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-
When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy
When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.
When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My Love Outshines The Summer Sun (Sonnet Corona)
(after William Shakespeare)
I
My love outshines the summer sun,
even stars in their remote twinkling light
and her eyes are more beautiful, each one
than the stars glimmering at night
Her cheeks is dimpled cute
her hair is an auburn crown,
her cheeks is rosy beyond repute
her hair is sun-shot twisting in a way of their own.
Her lips are more soft and warm
and her spirit is more mild
than a ray of light falling on my arm
or at times more free and wild
than birds where they fly,
my love is like the radiant sapphire sky.
II
My love is like the radiant sapphire sky
like the breeze rustling through trees
so lovely on my eye,
eager to please.
My love is like the summer sun,
like the blue hued sea
always warm and full of fun,
touching me gently
even when the darkness calls
and when time goes to its finality
like a star her light still falls,
my love stays true to me
in every thing her face I see
so gentle, sweet and free.
III
So gentle, sweet and free
my love lives her life
but I long for her to be near to me
in a world without any strive.
Like a lily prospering alone in the marsh
blooming pure and serene,
my darling lives unknown to a world harsh
out of control, away from the limelight scene
and in that rural place
her beauty is untouched by makeup,
filled with a sweet grace
and even in the morning when she wakes up
the sun is in her hair,
my darling is really fair.
IV
My darling is really fair
there are stars in her eyes,
she’s the most beautiful flower found anywhere,
her eyes are much more pure than the bluest skies.
When she smiles at me,
smiling tenderly,
I in her smile blessings see
as if love is there in all of its glory.
Still more so the bliss
that is caught in her kiss
that comes from the divine
which she is making mine
and sometimes the beauty makes her cry,
when the day flutters by.
V
When the day flutters by
with the sun setting red
you will find my love and I
where stars come out from bed,
then like a butterfly
the sun kisses the night,
touches the dark low and high
before it goes by with its last light
and she unloosens my tie
while we watch the full yellow moon,
while the fire in her eyes lie
sparkling, much brighter than the sunny afternoon,
but with a passing bat flying low she catches a fright,
while the stars are shining bright.
VII
While the stars are shining bright
like jewels in the sky’s crown
on a winter night
it has tranquillity, a beauty of its own,
her eyes are radiant,
as if aflame
lovely and brilliant
and of some she know the name
and something indiscernibly small
creeps into the very soul, into the heart
and of it that is all,
a smouldering, something with which we cannot part:
to me she remains the only one in joy and fun,
my love outshines the summer sun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Your love, my 'sweetest dream
Loved you with my heart,
my soul and my conscience.
Loved you with all I had,
sort of love that was world blind.
Loved you with my head,
my respect and my loyality.
Loved you with every breeze,
that touched your ideal personality.
Loved you as you are,
you was and you have always been.
Loved you as you would be,
all possible shades that you could be in.
Loved you with my truth,
my life and my genuine.
Loved you with my silence,
my words that are living.
Loved you in my lows,
my highs and my extemes.
Loved you in each mood swings,
your love my sweet dream.
Loved you such love,
undefinable and unspoken.
Loved you such love,
that remained untaken! ! !
poem by Jaya Mishra
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The Cry of the Dreamer
I am tired of planning and toiling
In the crowded hives of men;
Heart-weary of building and spoiling,
And spoiling and building again.
And I long for the dear old river,
Where I dreamed my youth away;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.
I am sick of the showy seeming
Of a life that is half a lie;
Of the faces lined with scheming
In the throng that hurries by.
From the sleepless thoughts' endeavour,
I would go where the children play;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a thinker dies in a day.
I can feel no pride, but pity
For the burdens the rich endure;
There is nothing sweet in the city
But the patient lives of the poor.
Oh, the little hands too skillful,
And the child-mind choked with weeds!
The daughter's heart grown willful,
And the father's heart that bleeds!
No, no! from the street's rude bustle,
From the trophies of mart and stage,
I would fly to the woods' low rustle
And the meadows' kindly page.
Let me dream as of old by the river,
And be loved for the dream alway;
For a dreamer lives forever,
And a toiler dies in a day.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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How Sweet It Is
How sweet it is to be loved by you. How sweet it is to be loved by you.
I needed the shelter of someone's arms and there you were.
I needed someone to understand my ups and downs and there you were.
With sweet love and devotion, deeply touching my emotion,
I want to stop and thank you baby. I want to stop and thank you baby.
How sweet it is to be loved by you. How sweet it is to be loved by you.
I close my eyes at night wondering where would I be without you in my life.
before.
But you brighten up for me all of my days with a love so sweet in so many ways,
I want to stop and thank you baby, I just want to stop and thank you baby.
by you.
You were better for me than I was for myself,
for me, there's you and there ain't nobody else,
do,
how sweet it is to be loved by you. How sweet it is to be loved by you.
Feels so fine, how sweet it is to be loved by you.
Just like jelly baby, oh yeah, how sweet it is to be loved by you.
Just like honey to the bee, babe, how sweet it is to be loved by you.
song performed by by Michael Mcdonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Only
If you only loved me
if you only cared
then we could find our paradise
and live forever there somewhere.
If you only wanted me
the way that I want you
then we could live together
in a perfect harmony
However, there are barriers
we both have to over come.
We have lives complicated
that won’t let our dreams through.
If only life was simpler
if only our lives were free,
we could enjoy the happiness
everyone wants us to enjoy.
27 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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Mr. Big Toe Goes To Pelican Restaurant with UniCandle Unicorn
Mr. Big Toe saw a flame shining bright, the waves of the ocean reflected it's light.
Mr. Big Toe knew it was UniCandle unicorn, he heard of the legend of his magical
flaming horn. UniCandle unicorn knew Mr. Big Toe lives in Lake Worth town,
so he brought him a sparkly birthday crown.
Mr. Big Toe welcomed UniCandle unicorn then Mr. Big Toe jumped on his saddled back,
UniCandle's wings opened up to fly to Pelican Restaurant really fast.
UniCandle unicorn had a coupon that expired soon,
UniCandle unicorn joined Dave's email club yesterday at noon.
UniCandle unicorn bought Mr. Big Toe a special birthday treat,
a delicious chocolate coconut banana which is really sweet!
Now UniCandle unicorn had to fly back to Krendoll again,
but he would stop back to see Mr. Big Toe who is his new found friend.
Written By Suzae Chevalier on October 20,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Pleasant And What Is Painful
what is pleasant
what gives pleasure
the mind records memory of;
what is painful
what gives discomfort
that too
the mind records memory of;
and the mind learns to crave for one
and to recoil from the other
and so our lives are formed
from every pleasure, from every comfort
and every choice we make;
there is nothing there in our lives
but craving and recoiling
and the mind that sees this conditioning
that mind is free of traps
that mind is free of memory
it recognizes the way it is made to operate
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Nevermind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
I was not caught
I crossed the line
I was not caught
Though many tried
I live among you
Well disguised
I had to leave
My life behind
I dug some graves
You’ll never find
The story’s told
With facts and lies
I had a name
But never mind
Never mind
Never mind
The war was lost
The treaty signed
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
I don’t know which
So never mind
Your victory
Was so complete
That some among you
Thought to keep
A record of
Our little lives
The clothes we wore
Our spoons our knives
The games of luck
Our soldiers played
The stones we cut
The songs we made
Our law of peace
Which understands
A husband leads
A wife commands
And all of this
Expressions of
The Sweet Indifference
Some call Love
The High Indifference
Some call Fate
But we had Names
More intimate
Names so deep and
Names so true
They’re blood to me
They’re dust to you
There is no need
That this survive
There’s truth that lives
And truth that dies
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
There’s truth that lives...
I could not kill
The way you kill
I could not hate
I tried I failed
You turned me in
At least you tried
You side with them
Whom you despise
This was your heart
This swarm of flies
This was once your mouth
This bowl of lies
You serve them well
I’m not surprised
You’re of their kin
You’re of their kind
Never mind
Never mind
The story’s told
With facts and lies
You own the world
So never mind
Never mind
Never mind
I live the life
I left behind
I live it full
I live it wide
Through layers of time
You can’t divide
My woman’s here
My children too
Their graves are safe
From ghosts like you
In places deep
With roots entwined
I live the life I left behind
song performed by by Leonard Cohen, music by Patrick Leonard, lyrics by Leonard Cohen (2016)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Don't Be Surprised
My love,
Don't be surprised,
If early in the morning,
After no being able to sleep at all,
You find yourself in front of a mirror
And see an image that resembles me,
Don't think, for a moment,
That it is a distorted image of you,
But a clear one of me,
Reflected in that mirror
Which is tightly fixed in front of you,
Letting you know that I am still
Living within your heart and mind...
You must understand
That there are things in life
Beyond your total control,
Natural feelings that still persist,
Sweet memories of the time
When, unconditionally, to you,
I surrendered my soul,
But love it is not your fault,
If our lives ended up
With totally different results....
©All Rights Reserved-2010
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Bring You Down
(Jean-Paul Maunick)
No one can enslave anybody
Who's got freedom, freedom of mind
But what they sure as hell can do
Is to put you in the grave
'Cos they know you've got freedom of mind
We need to be awaken to the new reality
Keep the fires burning in our souls
There are stages in our lives
That we need to leave behind
To keep the freedom of mind
Gonna bring you down
People bring you down
Gonna bring you down
Down, down, down
Gonna bring you down
If you don't stand your ground
Gonna bring you down
Down, down, down
Damn it's a shame to work your fingers to the bone
To barely, barely make a living
And you wake up early mornings
Don't come home 'till late
It's a struggle
In a jungle, jungle, jungle
We all need to be awaken to the new reality
Keep the fires burning in our souls
There are stages in our lives
We need to leave behind
To keep the freedom of the mind
song performed by by Incognito
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unveiling
Its a custom we have
were a year has passed
since loved ones
have gone to heavens pearly gates
We gather together
close family and friends
to uncover the tombstone
of our family who bares our name
With love and respect
we uncover the stone
from ministers, brothers,
sisters, grandchildren, greats and friends
Its our last farewell
were we sing and praise
and acknowledge our loved ones
that have passed away
It helps us the living
to move on in our lives
we smile in remembrance
of what full lives they had
with one final prayer
we all bow our heads
and give thanks to the lord
for giving them our loved ones
to be a part of our lives
So one final note
to my Mum and my Dad
your always remember
for ever in our hearts
for now and evermore
poem by Kaila George
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Unfolding Process
Those actions will leave our lives better off?
Those actions...
Will leave,
Our lives...
Better off?
And you are serious when you believe that?
Do you hear the echo of that cough?
How about the thunderous winds,
That bring destruction with them?
Does anything about global warming make sense?
Has your awareness been completely absent?
Do you know there are more than two million inmates,
In prison cells?
Do you realize detention camps are being built
For hundreds of thousands...
Perhaps millions of humans to dwell?
And you believe warring factions overseas...
Will leave our lives better off?
Perhaps you are right!
Because you have proven your mind has not been 'on'!
And living lives better 'off'
Did not have to take conflicts to do it!
So many have been living lives better 'off' for decades.
They are not going to be the problem!
It will be those turning 'on' to what is happening,
That will create the greatest civil disturbance...
And that seems to be planned,
As a slow unfolding process!
'Where are you getting this from? '
I am My Father's son!
Whenever My Father's gaze is fixed upon something,
You know I'm going to look in that direction?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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