The Birth Place of Pleasure
At the creation of the Earth
Pleasure, that divinest birth,
From the soil of Heaven did rise,
Wrapped in sweet wild melodies--
Like an exhalation wreathing
To the sound of air low-breathing
Through Aeolian pines, which make
A shade and shelter to the lake
Whence it rises soft and slow;
Her life-breathing [limbs] did flow
In the harmony divine
Of an ever-lengthening line
Which enwrapped her perfect form
With a beauty clear and warm.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Pleasure Skin
The sound of breathing
Protect the disease in me she says
The sound of breathing
I have never known fear like this before
I remember
The beautiess old but still as good she said
I remember
That I woke up in a cold dark room again
We are new men
Were the service, the pleasure skin
We are new men
No words, no image, no hope and fame
No shelter
You could feel the bitch outside the door
No shelter
She said nothing is leaving here alive
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Durand
Upon his canvas Nature starts to life,
Clear waters flow, majestic trees arise, --
The earth and air with beauty's shapes are rife,
And over all there bend his glorious skies.
Yes, this is Nature -- living, breathing, warm,
Ere yet her face the blight and storm have crossed;
Yes, this is Nature, in that radiant form
She wore of old, ere Paradise was lost.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ah Sweet Breath of Life
Ah sweet breath of life
I take for granted you'll always be
inhaling and exhaling,
giving life to me.
I can't remember my first breath.
It was so long ago.
Rapid little heart beats
making my life flow,
Never thinking of my breath
while taking on some years
my breathing did slow itself
as my body changed its gears.
Little things like hiccups
made me more aware
of how my breath took a pause
in its need of air.
Now that I am older
I slow my breathing down,
never rushing as I move,
never rushing 'round.
But breathing we cannot control
and yet we are aware
it's our one connection to this life.
one that we all share.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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A Poem For Elyssa
What will I see
appearing before me
when she types her heart
and her thoughts out for me
Will it be sweet,
Will it be majestic,
but even if it doesn't
it's still beautiful, you see
It's not your talent
that gives your poem beauty,
neither it's skill nor wits
that gives it the punchline hits...
but it's the reflection of who you are
on the blank paper I will see
that gives it its breathing life
the way it ought to be.
Perfection is not the answer
nor it is technique or book-bound knowledge,
but it is the embracing of who you are
and the harmony in the acceptance
between your self and your mirror...
for man is never perfect
- such is the true human nature
that God knew since Creation...
flawed, to its very core
yet beautiful at His own accord.
The beauty our Creator sees,
the beauty of all beauty:
That, is the beauty I know.
Wilson Khor W.H. @ Seymour Nightweaver
poem by Wilson Khor Woo Han
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A Touch Of Heaven
All creation is burdened by sin
And softness is really quite hard
What we feel as gentle and light
Heaven reveals all has been marred.
For in heaven flowers are ethereal
With petals like gossamer wings
Their fragrance is as Holy incense
Drifting upward to God it sings.
The gardens of Earth may have beauty
But in heaven they cannot compare
Whose flowers are as jewels within silver
For the river of life doth flow there.
The streets of heaven are golden
Yet a gold that is crystal clear
And a sinner cannot walk upon them
For no footprint can ever come near.
The saints walk in pastures so green
In each bosom there is a white stone;
And they take their repose in the shade
Of the shadow that's cast by God's throne.
Yes, there is nothing on Earth that is soft
To us things just, seem to be;
But in heaven all things are of Spirit
Sometimes those things I can see.
poem by Richard Merrell
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To A Moralist
Are the sports of our youth so displeasing?
Is love but the folly you say?
Benumbed with the winter, and freezing,
You scold at the revels of May.
For you once a nymph had her charms,
And Oh! when the waltz you were wreathing,
All Olympus embraced in your arms--
All its nectar in Julia's breathing.
If Jove at that moment had hurled
The earth in some other rotation,
Along with your Julia whirled,
You had felt not the shock of creation.
Learn this--that philosophy beats
Sure time with the pulse,--quick or slow
As the blood from the heyday retreats,--
But it cannot make gods of us--No!
It is well icy reason should thaw
In the warm blood of mirth now and then,
The gods for themselves have a law
Which they never intended for men.
The spirit is bound by the ties
Of its gaoler, the flesh;--if I can
Not reach as an angel the skies,
Let me feel on the earth as a man!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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The Somnambulist
Untie the gown, float to the ground
She revolve round, making no sound
Air leaving slow
Still breathing though
Decaying through brown, diving shes bound
Hours swum down, treasure unfound
Air leaving slow
Still breathing though
Somnambulist
Somnambulist
Somnambulist
Somnambulist
Air leaving slow
Still breathing though.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rapture?
...A float in Holy Waters of The Jordon...
Or cleansed, by the zephyrs of new Spring-
...My spirit blends, as the Angels ascend...
While goodness and mercy, are on the wing!
Filled to full with the deepest blue-
The velvet sky denies the cloud-
...But welcomes in and through-
The melodies, of sweet song birds-aloud!
...Singing their Psalms of early morn...
Praising our butter-yellow Sun-
...Breathing mystical magic all over our Earth...
Almost, as if, a New Heaven has begun!
...A Heaven, perhaps on Earth?
Divine and promised to us someday-
...'Tis this the scene, for things to come? ...
When The Rapture, has made its way?
...When all things old and still sin-filled...
Die off, and disappear in a glow?
...And a New Heaven 'tis born to this Earth?
While together, The Saved and God grow?
poem by Theodora Onken
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My Lady
My Lady of all ladies! Queen by right
Of tender beauty; full of gentle moods;
With eyes that look divine beatitudes,
Large eyes illumined with her spirit's light;
Lips that are lovely both by sound and sight,
Breathing such music as the dove, which broods
Within the dark and silence of the woods,
Croons to the mate that is her heart's delight.
Where is a line, in cloud or wave or hill,
To match the curve which rounds her soft-flushed cheek?
A colour, in the sky of morn or of even,
To match that flush? Ah, let me now be still!
If of her spirit I should strive to speak,
I should come short, as earth comes short of heaven.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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O sweet song of sorrow play thy song in me
O sweet song of sorrow play thy song in me
Lonely, alone with thee, in perfect harmony
Sorrow don't ever leave me; I need thy loyalty
Without thy sweet song, I am nothing, with no sympathy
Without thy empathy, breathing in me, sorrow thou art beauty
The beauty in me, so weep thy soul in me
And in thy sweet cry, my soul shall flow free
To thine heart, to thine love, to thine eternal glory
Sorrow, sweet sorrow, thou play thy song in me
Me as sorrowful, as thy soul's sorrow be…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Siesta
FROM THE SPANISH.
Vientecico murmurador,
Que lo gozas y andas todo, &c.
Airs, that wander and murmur round,
Bearing delight where'er ye blow!
Make in the elms a lulling sound,
While my lady sleeps in the shade below.
Lighten and lengthen her noonday rest,
Till the heat of the noonday sun is o'er.
Sweet be her slumbers! though in my breast
The pain she has waked may slumber no more.
Breathing soft from the blue profound,
Bearing delight where'er ye blow,
Make in the elms a lulling sound,
While my lady sleeps in the shade below.
Airs! that over the bending boughs,
And under the shade of pendent leaves,
Murmur soft, like my timid vows
Or the secret sighs my bosom heaves,--
Gently sweeping the grassy ground,
Bearing delight where'er ye blow,
Make in the elms a lulling sound,
While my lady sleeps in the shade below.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Breathing
Outside
Gets inside
Through her skin.
Ive been out before
But this time its much safer in.
Last night in the sky,
Such a bright light.
My radar send me danger
But my instincts tell me to keep
Breathing,
(out, in, out, in, out, in...)
Breathing,
Breathing my mother in,
Breathing my beloved in,
Breathing,
Breathing her nicotine,
Breathing,
Breathing the fall-out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out in.
Weve lost our chance.
Were the first and the last, ooh,
After the blast.
Chips of plutonium
Are twinkling in every lung.
I love my
Beloved, ooh,
All and everywhere,
Only the fools blew it.
You and me
Knew life itself is
Breathing,
(out, in, out, in, out...)
Breathing,
Breathing my mother in,
Breathing my beloved in,
Breathing,
Breathing her nicotine,
Breathing,
Breathing the fall-out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out in,
Out in, out in, out in, out...
(out!)
In point of fact it is possible to tell the
(out!)
Difference between a small nuclear explosion and
A large one by a very simple method. the calling
Card of a nuclear bomb is the blinding flash that
Is far more dazzling than any light on earth--brighter
Even than the sun itself--and it is by the duration
Of this flash that we are able to determine the size
(what are we going to do without? )
Of the weapon. after the flash a fireball can be
Seen to rise, sucking up under it the debris, dust
And living things around the area of the explosion,
And as this ascends, it soon becomes recognisable
As the familiar mushroom cloud. as a demonstration
Of the flash duration test lets try and count the
Number of seconds for the flash emitted by a very
Small bomb; then a more substantial, medium-sized
Bomb; and finally, one of our very powerful,
High-yield bombs
What are we going to do without?
Ooh please!
What are we going to do without?
Let me breathe!
What are we going to do without?
Ooh, quick!
We are all going to die without!
Breathe in deep!
What are we going to die without?
Leave me something to breathe!
We are all going to die without!
Oh, leave me something to breathe!
What are we going to do without?
Oh, god, please leave us something to breathe!
We are all going to die without
Oh, life is--breathing.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(My Love) Heaven Descends On Earth
Wrapped in your arms
Souls entwined
Floating in love's whipped cream
Silver lined
Heaven descends on earth.....
Swimming rose petals
Heady wine
A poem befalls upon us
God's sign
Heaven descends on earth......
Long nights of passion
Nine to nine
Climbing peaks unimagined
Finding our shrines
Heaven descends on earth.....
Completing each other
Love divine
Birth after birth after birth
Forever thine
Heaven descends on earth.....
poem by Renu Rakheja
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A Rose
A single rose in yonder ruined bed
Makes beauty where all beauty else had fled;
Like love, which, careless or of time or death,
About earth's shattered hopes its tendrils wreathing,
Blooms in the wilderness, divinely breathing,
Till all around grows fragrant with its breath.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.
poem by John Keats
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Love Sonnet XXIX
Dearest, there is no part of us, but air
And earth are counterparts. Your fragrant eyes
Touching my own, some essence of the skies
Instil therein, and all your warm, brown hair
Smells of the sun’s slow passion, fine and fair.
I cannot touch your hands but I surprise
Some element of summer; and the sighs
Of stars from your red lips I seem to share.
O Love…Love…Love…Dearer than God to me.
Earth of the earth are we and light of light.
God-born, God-breathing, all our scented souls
In Death will glow, gladdening eternity.
So give me love…all love…this perfect night
As round our naked limbs its full fire rolls.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
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The Image
When a wild grace I see,
A turn o' the neck, a curl, sweet hands, clear eyes,
Gentleness, courtesy, dignity;
In all these gifts Thee I surmise, surprise.
All beauty and delight.
Skin like a rose, a beauteous shape, an air
Free and enchanting, give my weary sight
Glimpses of Thee, Thou Beauty past compare.
Strength, courage also are Thine.
And joy of youth and wings that cleave the blue,
Low singing and soft voices, I divine
In these Thy beauty ancient yet ever new.
Oh, when my startled eye
Perceives this beauty league-long, sea and isle
And eagle-crested mountains wild and high,
I catch Thy Maker's thought -- I see Thy smile.
Some mirror out of range
Flashes reflex of Heaven on this sweet earth,
Brooding for ever, beautiful, without change,
The blue-bell sea, the thousand streams' soft mirth.
All beauty is of Thee.
Kindness and quietness, moon and stars and sun,
Gardens and woods, the bird in the new-fledged tree
And sleep, O Kindest One!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Lines from Endymion
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loviliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondance, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o`er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, inspite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.
poem by John Keats
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Heaven And Earth
when heaven and earth i can no longer see
my GOD will be in front of me.
and when my GOD says it's time to die
i know that he'll be by my side.
and when the sun ceases to shine
i know that i will feel his love divine.
and when this earth no longer exists
i will feel his heavenly bliss.
heaven and earth is just a step away
either we do it right, or we come back to pay.
they say that heaven is here on earth
and mankind takes it for all its worth.
when i look to the heavens and see the beauty
of the sky, then i know the reason why.
why i was put on this earth
and why to me, my mother gave birth.
she gave me birth so that i can see
all the beauties that GOD put here for me.
heaven and earth are in unison as one
just like the sky is to the sun.
just like the crops are to the soil
through mans sacrifice and toil.
here on earth the LORD had said
is where you'll come to rest your head.
but in my kingdom of heaven
what you thought was impossibilities
you now will see living in immortality.
you will no longer have the human frailities
and emotions such as hate, envy, sadness, bitterness
sickness and desires, they will all go away
but other things will stay
such as love, joy and happiness
and a desire to help the ones we leave behind
and in hopes that they could find
the meanings of the words that GOD has spoken
and pull out all these inner emotions.
heaven and earth is here and now
in your heart, it will be found.
poem by Louis Rams
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Who Created This Beautiful World?
Who created this beautiful world?
What a harmony and perfection!
Who thought this beauty, who brought it out?
Who is he that perfected it?
What matching patterns spawn the wonder?
What concinnous rhythms create this charm?
What is that grand invisible hand
That weaves this beauty with rhythms and patterns
That makes beauty, beauty; a divine music?
What a match of place, time and form
That makes this world a joyous feeling!
Beauty infuses life to the world,
Beauty makes the world to speak and sing,
To awaken soul to the creator’s skills
Who gave his rare gifts in abundance.
What brings those hues to youthful glows,
What brings those shapes to enchanting slopes,
What brings gentleness to graceful love,
What brings those grace to ripening age,
What brings brooding beauty to day-break’s freshness,
What brings that beauty to the width of the sky,
To the height of hills and depth of seas,
To the shapes of clouds, to the moods of men
In liquid ease and endless abundance
That no more the world is what it is made of,
But a celestial charm of unknown depth.
A subtle music in joyous rhythms,
A pregnant pattern in brilliant colours,
In human forms, in nature’s moods,
In fast changing life’s variegated hues,
In tides of sea, in tides of life,
Surface to those inner ears and eyes
That keep itself wide open always;
A living rhythm is at work in womb
In hide and seek of light and shadow,
In fall and rise of hills and vales,
In love and hate, in war and peace;
The twinkles of eyes, the gentle smiles,
The blue of the sky, the warm sunshine,
Each is a rich work of a master craftsman.
Day is beauty, night is beauty;
Youth is beauty, old age is beauty;
Desire is beauty, contentment, beauty;
Heart-break is beauty, fulfilment, beauty;
Perfection is beauty, ugliness, beauty;
All are beautiful deep ’neath bones
Like sunrise and sunset or sunshine or rain,
In the magical hands of the master craftsman.
Is this world his own image,
A reflection of his model perfection
Like the pleasures of pleasure and the pleasures of pain
Make the world a divine charm;
Work and leisure, pain and pleasure,
Penury and wealth, life and death
Hand in hand bring harmony to the world;
Mongoose kills snakes; snake, rats,
In living rhythms of life and death;
Beauty, the world breathes, is beyond cause,
Beyond source, beyond course,
That surfaces itself to the joy of all
On the will of the great divine artist.
A speck of dirt, dark spots on the moon
Have the same charm and perfect rhythms;
Tears of pain and tears of pleasure
Have the same simple grace hidden in them;
Like silk-worms that weave soft sheath around,
He builds the world with his own inner charm,
It be a mole or a mountain;
And this we have,
The wonderous world of perfect beauty;
Beauty within and beauty outside,
Beauty between and beauty a’where,
In gentle flesh and youthful forms,
In fall and rise, in rage and patience,
In nature’s arts and man’s crafts,
In old and new or foul garbage;
For, the creator sits in all of them
And builds a bridge to all hearts and souls.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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