~~passion Takes Flight~~
Walk along any crowded city street
See vacant stares on a sea of human faces
How stiff they walk on frozen feet,
And long forgotten social graces
Is passion within a human heart now gone,
As far as knowing eyes can see?
Is love and joy no longer paragon?
Oh Lord, why won’t they look at me?
Thy passion “Vincent” helps them take wing,
As paint on canvas did so long ago
Lovely are the words your paintings sing,
As if by magic, vivid flowers seem to grow
Soon, God’s Hands shall touch our hearts again,
The long forgotten buried and the walking dead
Made afresh…what was once arcane
The Will and Love of God shall again embed
Countless souls shall embark on upward flight,
None shall rest until they reach Eternal Light
(This revised poem was inspired by poet MKP)
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Related quotes
Passion Takes Flight
Walk any crowded city street
See vacant stares on a sea of faces
How stiff they walk on frozen feet
Of long forgotten social graces
Is passion within human hearts gone
As far as knowing eyes can see?
Love and joy no longer paragon
'Lord', why won’t they look at me?
Your passion Vincent helps them find wings
As paint on canvas did so long ago
Lovely are the words your paintings sing
As if by magic, vivid flowers seem to grow
Soon, God’s Hands shall touch hearts again
Of long forgotten buried and the walking dead
Made afresh what was once arcane
The Will of God shall once more embed
Countless souls shall launch an upward flight
None shall rest, until they reach Eternal Light
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Skylark's Message
SWEET little upturned faces,
Poor little hands and feet,
Little eyes that are careworn and anxious
From hunger and want in the street,
Hear ye that skylark singing
5
Like an angel far away?
'Tis bringing to you a message
From the Golden Gates of day.
Ah, little know ye of the meadows,
Poor little blistered feet,
10
Down in the smoke of the city,
Down in the noise of the street!
But it sings of a better country,
Where tired little hearts can rest;
Of a sun that shines for ever,
15
And the love of a Father's breast.
O poor little weary spirits,
I would that ye knew its song,
For the world is very heartless,
And your journey may be long;
20
And ye need such heavenly music
To cheer you in the night,
Little hearts that are now so noble,
Little souls that are now so white.
I would that ye heard it always,
25
That sweet bird's voice within,
When the heart is sad and lonely
In the long, long struggle with sin;
Till a rest comes out of the sunset
For the labouring hands and feet,
30
And a silence has fallen for ever
On the noise and the dust of the street.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Where Is My Passion
Where is my passion
Far too much pain
Where is my passion
Must I love in vain?
Where is my passion
I need must know
Where is my passion
I want so much to grow
Where is my passion
Lost in your lips
Where is my passion
I feel for your kiss
Where is my passion
Lost in your eyes
Where is my passion
Release me to fly
Where is my passion
There in your hands
Where is my passion
Touch me…expand
Where is my passion
Please…be a man
poem by Fleurette Elaine Harris
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Maelstrom Of Memories
Walking down a street
where we lived many years ago,
the faces behind the doors
are not the same anymore.
As we walk, we look back
at a time that inherited our name.
Remembering the times there
in the maelstrom of memories
that come flooding back
to haunt us with faces
of that long ago.
Our head spins as we walk
stepping back into our yesterdays
with its happiness, sadness
and grief that came our way.
We stumble over things
we had forgotten long ago
as we are overtaken
in a maelstrom of memories.
13 February 2012
poem by David Harris
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This Poem..
This poem
was about to speak to you
assuming that there is a you right there and now
but
hesitated, a little unsure of itself
this poem
though all ready to be
a bouncy, Tiggerish, extravert sort of poem
is going instead to take a quiet moment for
introspection
this poem
remembers that computers are essentially
binary – built up of millions of yes-no choices
so
this poem
is above all,
yes;
hoping
in still a Tiggerish way, to hear you also, say
yes
this poem
finds that it has
certain hidden desires
which it rightly or wrongly
was going to lay on you
like
this poem
would like to tell you
something new which
you might or might not believe
until some time later
when you’d say
yes!
this poem
would like to touch your heart
(impertinently assuming
you might need aortic massage)
so that when you finished reading it,
you’d say
yes!
this poem
presumptuously
would like to enable you to
see the whole world with fresh eyes,
as if never before,
be the first day
of Creation for the
rest of your life
so that you'd say
yes yes yes
this poem
would love to
be Irish, throw magical, spellbinding words round you
like two hands throwing wild flowers
over you in a summer meadow,
looking into your eyes, laughing, kissing,
dancing over the green hills to blue skies hand in hand
enchanted with a life you’d passing forgotten,
always known, while time
is eternity and
you and I and all things are
yes, yes, yes and
yes
this poem
at this point
introspectively with a touch of humility
thinks
maybe it’s sufficient, purer,
just to want to
pass you in the street,
smile right into your eyes
maybe shake hands, even
kiss both cheeks how ever many times
and know that without necessarily
saying anything
the answer’s
yes
this poem
hopes it’s made its point
without mentioning
love or other well-known,
complicated things like that and
moreover it’s gone on long enough
because
this poem loves
what happens in silence
what happens in stillness
and just wanted to say
yes?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Lovely One
Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With delicate hands and slender feet
Like a silver pony,
Walking, flower of the world,
Thus I see you,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
With a nest of copper entangled
On your head, a nest
The coloUr of dark honey
Where my heart burns and rests,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your eyes are too big for your face,
Your eyes are too big for the earth.
There are countries, there are rivers,
In your eyes,
My country is your eyes,
I walk through them,
They light the world
Through which I walk,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your breasts are like two loaves made
Of grainy earth and golden moon,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
Your waist,
My arm shaped it like a river when
It flowed a thousand years through your sweet body,
Lovely one.
Lovely one,
There is nothing like your hips,
Perhaps earth has
In some hidden place
The curve and the fragrance of your body,
Perhaps in some place,
Lovely one.
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your voice, your skin, your nails,
Lovely one, my lovely one,
Your being, your light, your shadow,
Lovely one,
All that is mine, lovely one,
All that is mine, my dear,
When you walk or rest,
When you sing or sleep,
When you suffer or dream,
Always,
When you are near or far,
Always,
You are mine, my lovely one,
Always.
poem by Pablo Neruda
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STONES and THORNS
Are you bewildered?
Why do you walk on stones and thorns with bare feet?
Beloved, don’t you know lovers do not walk on feet?
They walk on love.
A lover’s journey is neither short nor long,
A lover’s journey is timeless…endless
A precious journey guided by a fervent heart
ROTMS
(Inspired by Master Rumi)
poem by Ray Lucero
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A Human Body
Words and music by roger taylor
They were talking in whispers
In bear skins and fur
Captain scott and his heroes to be
To have laboured so long
To have made it this far
Ooh its been such a long ride
Ooh you know its been a long way
For a human human human
For a human body you see
Can you believe it happens?
Now it happens here
Do you believe do you believe or really care
Can you believe it happens?
Now it happens here
To a human human
With a human body you see
There aint nobody gets out of this moonlight
Today is surprisingly fair
Oh oh oh oh woo woo
Weve got problems the lone ranger cant fix
The invisible man couldnt see
It takes a tough guy
To learn some new tricks
Ooh it takes such a long time
Ooh its been such a long way
For a human human human
For a human body you see
Can you believe it happens?
Now it happens here
Do you believe do you believe or really care
Can you believe it happens?
Now it happens here
To a human human
With a human body you see
You know its been such a long while
Its been such a long while
Takes such a long time
It takes such a long time
Its been such a long way
Been such a long way
Its been such a long while
Been such a long while
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah!
Its gonna be a long ride
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Needs Love?
Passion and lust takes my mind
as I see you in the morning light
as my heart beats like a drum
even your breathing excites me
A passion spell have thou spun on me?
You made me offer my soul
gladly to the devil, for one embrace
one wet kiss, would be my eternal bliss.
All day, thoughts of you tease me
for when I taste you, I live again.
So long a fool, I waited for love
when all I needed was passion.
Passion from your body
warms me to the bone.
Passion from your words
engorges the vessels in my brain.
Nights in your arms, steeped in sweat
burning tensely within your body
waiting for the flood to overflow
as passion drowns the ache for love.
poem by Nicky McNeil
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In Search For The Beating Heart
words break on cobblestone paths,
as bare feet testify.
hearts spill from fugitive ashtrays,
while thumbs stand in line to pray.
damned souls with railroad faces,
shuffle by the barrel.
small babies paint their faces with ashes,
dogs crow, and fences stutter.
bodies cling to scattered dirt,
messages written on dirty windows.
if it is for this that god expressed,
then let the funeral begin!
how far we walk in search of near!
at each scent of identity we shudder.
even water burns in this wasteland,
and robins walk on broken eggshells.
there be no tongue that is not lit,
as frost scorches the pilgrim's eyes.
if love then breathes it sweats and growls,
while pencils claim their souls.
the very sky rent with passion,
this madness lifts the cup....
these lips melt with hunger unrestrained,
in search for the beating heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Eternal Prayer
This is my eternal prayer with god I do share
All my life I have searched for love
And prayed to you up above.
Love seems to take a turn, and the passion
In my heart does burn.
I see the beauties that you have created
Yet with my dream you have hesitated.
Is it that something special is coming my way?
Oh dear lord- to you I pray.
So many years have gone by- and as I see
Other lovers- I do sigh.
The passion in my heart is a eternal fire
As I seek someone to join this fire.
I feel like I’m a star up in the sky
Everyone can see the beauty, but it’s
Beyond their reach, as I search
For eternal loves peace.
Will I be that star in the sky, or can I be
Like mother earth, that everyone can see
My beauty and smell my fragrance
And touch the gentleness of my heart
And from their hands I will not part.
As the plants need water to live
I have so much love to give.
Let me be the water that touches their heart
So that it may grow, and from me they will know.
This is my eternal prayer that with the world I will share.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Hand
First Love's Touch,
mutual gathering was only through them,
our Hands.
We poets celebrate
Hearts and Souls;
Love too wields magic,
but neglect too often
those stalwart two-
the human hands-
we're birth'd with.
Entwined most
in our Corporeal Destinies
yet hands occupy
in the Pantheon of Graces
a position lower than should be.
Consider birth's first
is a touching hand.
First our eyes open
then
we are lifted by them.
Is not reaching for love
first with these twins?
Was not my First Love
first touched by them?
Did we not, we two, hold hands
along the heart-way walkways?
Did not these two first wave
sweet hellos and partings?
What poet's mind could word
without them?
Alas, too, it was these two
which fluttered dismissively
signaling
First Love was leaving.
At death's bed
the last we reach
for nurse, loved ones
or darlings,
with be with these two hands,
when from this world departing.
Is not electricity
generated by them
in the touching of our bodies?
Are not hands reaching on the Grecian Urn
expressing love's startings,
it's yawlings and yearnings?
I will die
as we all will-
its hands that will pray for me.
Coffin bound
I will lay,
my two hands crossing.
I am touched by loving hands
from birth
to Death's Regarding.
All my life these two ambassadors
convey
sweet touches
to me and from me
to others.
The tear of child
is reached by these
and Child Worlds mended.
Lover, I
have only these
to express what
what my Heart says
Love Is.
In the end
cry for them too:
Fluttering Twins,
unsung,
ungraced,
each hand-
perforce
will reach out
one to each-
one floating flower to another.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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My Childhood Hero
Caught a glimpse of my childhood hero
As he strutted along the path today.
He created pictures from words,
Made this world come alive, with
A magic that was never matched.
As he swaggered past me today
He looked old, tired and grey
Flashes of songs, floated cross my mind,
Stirring long forgotten memories
Made by the man I saw today, long, long ago.
There was a touch of aged slowness in,
The walk of the man I called my childhood hero,
What had happened to the man I remember
As invincible and beyond question
In that childhood world of mine?
And then I saw a wink and a twinkle
A spark of dancing magic and
A mischievous glint
In the icy blueness of the eyes
Of the man I called my childhood hero.
© 2012
poem by Nick Strong
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I Wrote Many New Poems Now Long Forgotten
I WROTE MANY POEMS NOW LONG FORGOTTEN
I wrote many poems now long forgotten
Why do I believe any poem I will write now
Or in the future
Is better than them?
I am a man lost in the world of his own words
And the only way out I know
Is writing more words
Which too are added on
To the unending pile of the forgotten.
Tell me where this poem too will be
When I am in the ground?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I No Longer Sing The Songs Of Societal Significance
i no longer sing your songs of societal significance
i have forgotten them
honestly, i do not remember a word
i cannot even hum the tune of your songs of protest
(our songs)
against the government, honestly, i do not like them anymore
even if i remember
all i remember are unnecessary, premature, untimely deaths
of friends
of our self-made revolutions when we were so young and full
of idealism
in our hearts
now i dim
like a dying light
tempted by the shining sun of new rules and
the philosophy of
mature contentment
i no longer climb your mountains, i no longer walk the long walks
on dark nights, passing the snake rivers
and gorilla forests and monkey trees and slippery fins of fish
and eels and
eagles,
i no longer have your callous feet
i cannot remember you
you ask me
if i love you still, i cannot remember, i have none of your bravery
honestly,
i have become this coward cloud, raining
regrets
the peace that i do not deserve
the hiding
in open places, without a name, without a trace,
mouth shut, tongue clipped,
and then you walk away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Happiness
There's a happiness, a joy
in one soul, that's been
buried alive in everyone
and forgotten.
It isn't your barroom joke
or tender, intimate humor
or affections of friendliness
or big, bright pun.
They're the surviving survivors
of what happened when happiness
was buried alive, when
it no longer looked out
of today's eyes, and doesn't
even manifest when one
of us dies, we just walk away
from everything, alone
with what's left of us,
going on being human beings
without being human,
without that happiness.
poem by Jack Hirschman
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As Long As I
When the heart and brain cease to function
I will no longer exist,
but as long as I am living
I will do the thing I love to do.
As long as I have arms
I can give a hug when needed.
As long as I have legs
I can walk that extra mile.
As long as I have eyes
I can see the beauty around me.
As long as I have a brain
I can think of may things.
As long I have fingers
I can write down what I think.
As long as I have a tongue.
I will tell the world of my dreams.
As long as I have a heart
I can and will live and love.
As Long as I have you
my world is complete.
21 October 2010
poem by David Harris
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I Believe in Love Eternal
I am an old man and even an older soul that's been around many life times. I will find the one that will make my journey complete so I won't have to do this forever endlessly. We are here to meet each other many times over and correct the problems/mistakes we have encountered and lessons not yet learned. I hope I have learned all I need to learn to pass on to pure energy and remain till all ascends.
I Believe In Love Eternal
Written by Wilfred Charles Mellers Tuesday, August 19,2008
The meeting of two souls is what’s important
To find oneself is of the utmost significances
Reaching out to seize the moment when you find someone
Boundaries not known race, shape, creed, or color
Statures slender, petite, voluptuous, doesn’t matter
The body is nothing more than the souls vessel
Always growing founder for love is eternal
Magic happens when you find one another
Once in a lifetime it only happens
Do we hold back what we feel due to social stereotypes
Do we pursue with a vengeance the love of each other for life
All things relative for love crosses space and time
In a human shell life is energy enclosed and refined
Loving souls will meet always again
Specific gender souls are not rendered
Colors, creed, and cultures souls cross
For that purpose we are all here
To love and be loved in return
Greater than love there’s nothing
Like a ton of bricks when love hits
Eternity seen at a glance in each other’s eyes
The gates of heaven are flung open to embrace us inside
The world now seems a new
I’ve gone around many times I’ve been told
Patiently waiting for my love to have and to hold
Recognizing my true love in a crowd I could never pass
A sparkle in my old eyes and a gleam overcomes at last
A wasted life without passion is
A crime without love life is
A squandered life without loves intimacy
No life at all without living inside your love
I have been to many places
I have had so many, many faces
I have been far to many races
I’ve search through the depths of time
For the love of my life once more I’ll find
I will not rest until I make you mine
Coming back looking for you I have been
Through the centuries for your love to win
I will search till the end of days and time
Until I finally make you mine
All withstanding for the greater powers
The days are long and so my sunlight hours
My love for you is never ending
These words for you I will always be sending
I’ve been longing to hold love so true
Come find me for I have been waiting so long for you
P.S.
Walk good and never be afraid of the rain for God is in the rain.
One love
Blessed
Rastafar I
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Lord I Give My Heart To Thee
Lord I give thy heart to thee.
The Ones that have died are gathered by your side.
They are blessed Lord.
They no longer have to fight the fight we people of God fight here on Earth.
We must battle against the sinful world we live in.
The selfish desires of our hearts.
They know not of this war.
Your loving arms shield them from the evil.
You keep their innocence and you love them dearly.
We miss them and we always will.
We love them and hope that we will see them again in paradise.
It is a long wait though and that pain sits heavily on the heart.
No words can explain that feeling.
Knowing that the person you love is gone and you will never see them again.
They are never forgotten though.
Nothing in the world could purge them from memory.
Oh God we pray that you will be there for them.
That you will never let them go
They are special to us in ways the rest will never understand
Even still they are blessed
They do not have to feel the pain that we feel when they are gone.
poem by Rachel Branscombe
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How Can You Know?
How can you know the depth
of my love for you Beloved?
How can you know my feelings
of passion denied me so long?
How can you fathom the abyss and
deep sorrow of our apartness?
How can you understand what’s
been stolen from my heart ‘n soul?
How can you spurn what your
heart knows to be true?
Are we then condemned to walk
the shores of a dead sea?
Questions only God can answer
of this hurt and fragile lover...
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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