Sonnet 05
When hearts are full of yearning tenderness,
For the loved absent, whom we can not reach --
By deed or token, gesture or kind speech,
The spirit's true affection to express;
When hearts are full of innermost distress,
And we are doomed to stand inactive by,
Watching the soul's or body's agony,
Which human effort helps not to make less --
Then like a cup capacious to contain
The overflowings of the heart, is prayer:
The longing of the souls is satisfied,
The keenest darts of anguish blunted are;
And, though we can not cease to yearn or grieve,
Yet we have learned in patience to abide.
poem by Richard Chenevix Trench
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With All My Heart, God, Let Me… (A Song)
With all my heart, God, let me praise you;
With all my heart, God, let me thank you;
With all my heart, God, let me serve you;
With all my heart, God, let me love you.
With all my heart, God, let me seek you;
With all my heart, God, let me trust you;
With all my heart, God, let me call you;
With all my heart, God, let me reach you.
With all my heart, God, let me rejoice;
With all my heart, God, let me obey;
With all my heart, God, let me repent;
With all my heart, God, let me be glad.
With all my heart, God, let me be pure;
With all my heart, God, let me await;
With all my heart, God, let me sing songs;
With all my heart, God, let me not sin.
With all my heart, let me abide in Him;
With all my heart, let me be righteous;
With all my heart, let me not go astray;
With all my heart, let me keep your Words.
God knows all secrets of the human heart;
He forms all hearts and considers all that they do;
The Lord moves hearts of Kings to make decrees;
Only fools say in hearts, ‘There is no God! '
poem by John Celes
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Hail Storm
In this hail storm.
Why am I always the last man standing.
With each pellet I endure.
Just make me numb.
Just make me invincible.
Just make me indestructible.
While everyone runs for cover.
I say here I am.
Take me if you think you can.
Bravery and foolishness go hand over hand.
But someone must make a stand.
If not me then who.
Bottoms up.
As I drink the last dropp from the cup.
Its full courage
Its full of hope.
Its full of suffering.
Its full of ignorance.
Lesson yet to be learned.
With a voice reaching out for me.
Like a cold dead hand.
You will know no happiness if you take this road.
You will no love if you fly that way my dove.
In the end their is no gold.
I guess my soul can't be bought or so sold.
Growing forever young.
Permanently mentally dumb.
Wish I would have took that god damn blue pill instead.
Then I would be in another forever dream.
One where my sense of right and wrong was completely gone.
Where I could continuously hear my perfect song.
Over and over it repeats.
As does every last tragedy.
I still can hear the screams of agony.
They beckon me.
Their calling for blind hero.
Am I that man?
Am I not that man?
In all good questions comes some kind of contradiction.
I have this affliction.
I need to tare myself apart.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Agony of Being in Love
This has become my affliction
My unsteadying nerves twitch
My mind is left untoward
That not one thought I control
There is a girl, one girl
Who has a place in my heart
For some reason I fail to understand
I view her as I would view the world
In full beauty she is everything
Yet not one promise she has shown to me
And so I find my hearts affection
Laying as an unrequited token
I torture myself ceaselessly
Ah the agony of being in love
With someone who does not love me
I fail to deal with the emotion
And I am unhealthy in doing that
The mind goes to a waste
While the heart does as it will
The agony of being in love
There is no cure I know
Except for the answered dream
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Come On! We Can Do It!
The hearts that dwell in the pitch dark,
Glow like the sun when filled with love and care,
The opaque body and the inefficient lights,
Keep the hearts in the dark, behind the wall and the hedge.
Vicious heart that is foxy in nature,
Kind heart that is smooth as petals,
The venturous heart that is vulture in action,
The fickle heart is like an ape in motion.
Too little heart vested with too many functions,
Fist sized hearts are troubled with delusion,
Monotonous life not appealing to human,
Rhythm of hearts changes with damages done.
Can have the notorious things to shake the head,
The racing heart yearn for pleasurable shrouds,
In the bright day light and at the pitch of the dark night,
Let us celebrate to change the rhythm of the hearts.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Emptiness fulfills my Soul
when your heart is full 'your' is at the brinks of loosing
yourself, swimming in the agony of uncertainty where
lies of promises wonder in the inner passion of
what is life of simplicity
all the wickedness will be remembered, when our soul
comes in the face of eternity, everything will be honor
and level, of what will be the best and the gaining in the
eyes of the giver of life
it is the fulfillment, where the end is the start of what is
life everlasting, the emptiness of thy soul is the fullness
of the spirit, where by to be weak satisfied my destiny
of living with all that makes me what i am in spirit
be steadfastly strong, don't be so fool in your heart, for the
heart conquers the conqueror of the universe, joining with
the kings make the King stand to fulfill your soul
nay! leave you in the gnashing of teeth in the dungeon of
life everlasting........emptied your soul to fulfill your Eternity
poem by Antonio Liao
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The World is Full of Kindness
The World is full of kindness—
And not the poor alone;
We Christians in our blindness
Bow down to hearts of stone;
The clever, bitter cynic,
Whose poisoned “soul” is dead,
And, like the rotten clinic,
Raves, helpless, on his bed.
The world is full of kindness—
But not the White alone;
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone;
But all men are his brothers,
In spite of all the “Powers,”
And the things he does for others
Shew whiter souls than ours.
The world is full of kindness—
But not the Lean alone;
The Fat man in his blindness
Bows down, and not to stone;
But when a friend’s in trouble,
And an honest friend at that,
Then I’d turn to the Fat man
In spite of all his fat.
The world is full of kindness
If it is let alone,
And men’s hearts in their blindness
Are neither ice nor stone.
In spite of all pretences,
We get it from Above;
In spite of all defences—
Red blood, kind hearts, and love.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXI
TO ONE WHO LOVED HIM
I cannot love you, love, as you love me,
In singleness of soul, and faith untried:
I have no faith in any destiny,
In any Heaven, even at your side.
Our hearts are all too weak, the world too wide,
You but a woman. If I dare to give
Some thought, some tenderness, a little pride,
A little love, 'tis yours, love, to receive.
And do not grieve, though now the gift appear
A drop to your love's ocean. Time shall see.
--Oh, I could prophesy:--That day is sure,
Though not perhaps this week, nor month, nor year,
When your great love shall clean forgotten be,
And my poor tenderness shall yet endure.
'Tis not the trees that make the tallest show,
Which stand out stoutest when the tempests blow.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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In The Face Of A Tornodo
this pain
raises and falls
in this heaving bosom
this agony
rages and rages
in this fiery heart
this longing
settles and unsettles
this body and spirit
this pain
this agony
this longing
all together hit me
as a tornodo at times
it's then the body goes about
like a dangling empty sack down
the shoulders of a beggar, roaminging in vain,
with a heart heavier, and belly and spirit emptier
14jan2010
02.40hra
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Consolations in Bereavement
Death was full urgent with thee, Sister dear,
And startling in his speed;—
Brief pain, then languor till thy end came near—
Such was the path decreed,
The hurried road
To lead thy soul from earth to thine own God's
abode.
Death wrought with thee, sweet maid, impatiently:—
Yet merciful the haste
That baffles sickness;—dearest, thou didst die,
Thou wast not made to taste
Death's bitterness,
Decline's slow-wasting charm, or fever's fierce
distress.
Death came unheralded:—but it was well;
For so thy Saviour bore
Kind witness, thou wast meet at once to dwell
On His eternal shore;
All warning spared,
For none He gives where hearts are for prompt change
prepared.
Death wrought in mystery; both complaint and cure
To human skill unknown:—
God put aside all means, to make us sure
It was His deed alone;
Lest we should lay
Reproach on our poor selves, that thou wast caught
away.
Death urged as scant of time:—lest, Sister dear,
We many a lingering day
Had sicken'd with alternate hope and fear,
The ague of delay;
Watching each spark
Of promise quench'd in turn, till all our sky was
dark.
Death came and went:—that so thy image might
Our yearning hearts possess,
Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright,
With youth and loveliness;
Sorrow can claim,
Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name.
Joy of sad hearts, and light of downcast eyes!
Dearest thou art enshrined
In all thy fragrance in our memories;
For we must ever find
Bare thought of thee
Freshen this weary life, while weary life shall be.
poem by John Henry Newman
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The Admonitory Allegory
The beast with two hearts!
I hear it approach,
It will, surely, it will,
Upon our thoughts encroach.
Run, my son, lest ye be a fool,
And become its poor slave,
Or weapon, or tool!
Run, my son, lest its beauty ye love,
Lest its heart you desire,
Lest its body be your cove.
At which point you've failed.
You've blown it, you're dead.
You've done thrown away yourself,
You've done lost your head!
Run, my son, lest ye be a damned fool!
It'll take you and make you,
Something that's... not cool!
Oh, listen to me, all full of words,
All full of apprehension,
All full of curds.
Sitting alone in my dank old man's chair,
Oh, my son!
The beast with two hearts, do beware!
poem by Leon Agnew
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Hearts For Sale
My spirit is winging
My soul is free
I'm doing my drinking
In good company
The music's screaming
My feet are flying
Everybody's laughing
And nobody's crying
Sneak suspicion
It drags me down
A nagging feeling
Going round
Hearts for sale
Going cheap
Hearts for sale
Lovers' leap
My belly's full
My glass is brimming
The women look so beautiful
And I feel like singing
The voice of conscience
The voice of reason
Is yacking in my plans
I call that treason
Hearts for sale
Going cheap
Hearts for sale
Blood runs deep
I'm losing my willpower
My blood's running cold
My body's on pause
My mind's stuck on hold
There ain't nothing I can do about it
Sneak suspicion
It drags me down
Nagging feeling
Going round
Hearts for sale
Going cheap
Hearts for sale
Blood runs deep
Hearts for sale
I don't need a doctor
I need a deputation
You don't want my loving
You can just take my resignation
I'm under the hammer
I'm a full time worker
I'm a real body slammer
song performed by by Rolling Stones from Steel Wheels
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impact Of Education
A continuous, arduous endeavor for education
Can pull one out of the financial hardship, a curse
Helps him or her to push forward the next generation
To rush for knowledge power and poverty to crush
True education can make a person empowered with
Maturity, full of strength, noble quality, self dependence
Full of spirit, optimism, bright outlook, broad vision
Brave heart, full of virtue and art, full of self confidence
poem by Umaprosad Das
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Full Of Life Questions
life is full of unexpected,
life is full of challenges,
life is full of bitterness,
life is full of strife,
life is full of contentious disputes,
life is full of revenge,
life is full of hatred,
life is full of mystery,
sometimes.....
life is full of sweetness,
life is full of joy,
life is full of happiness,
life is full of hope,
life is full of dreams,
you can have all this life when the soul is in body, and you will be able to feel everything because this is real life to creatures who call the''human''
Have you thought to life after death? ? ? ?
Anguish, pain, misery, sorrow and retribution
Some say life is full of anguish,
old man once sang that life is full of pain
some even preach that life comes fully laced with misery and sorrow,
and some believe that life offers no retribution
ideas clearly instilled in the hearts and souls of many a man,
but the truth of the matter is,
life is anguish,
life is pain,
life is misery and sorrow,
in the same way as rain is water
and water is rain
for where can one get one`s own share of anguish,
who`d we ever have known pain if we never had life
without life, would we live through misery and sorrow
life in itself is retribution,
for he who has life can stand ground against
anguish, pain, misery and sorrow
and live to see brighter days seemingly unscathed
but woo to he who loses his life
in anguish, or pain, or misery , or sorrow
for he will receive no further retribution
and he will depart this earth with nothing but
anguish, pain, misery, sorrow
and retribution lost
poem by Tinashe Severa
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Our rusted key
a soul that leaves legacy, builds for eternity, such
savory of dreams come once in a life time, a place
in our hearts, that unite the human bane of every
soul
it well be forever, the thirst of the sweet bladed sword,
to learn the ancient path, where thousands of prayer
and sacrifice to reach and to end, each journey to the
kingdom of the most high
as it rust, it shine its golden armor of faith, that shield the
agony of souls, never it is wasted nor gain, for in every
faith of our spirit brings every pieces in God's altar of
forgiveness
what makes it pure, when each heart gives its pollen
drops of crystal tears in God's stain of mercy, that in
every breath brings the coated soul of openness, to
receive his passionate love forever in our soul
a revealing God that, even in the deepest flame of fire,
he still with us, it will be the moment that God will never
leaves his promise of perfection of our soul, a time that
witness, that our God is a God forever
be rusted in faith, for in every exposure of your lives, it
breath goodness to our precious soul, and be a legacy
of every brethren of brethrens, that the key to reach our
destiny is to be taken freely in the face of the earth
rush yourselves, in the air that mold you, rust ourselves
to the breath that guide us, let our heart kindling our eternity
to the glory of God
poem by Antonio Liao
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Sir, We Would See Jesus
We would see Jesus; earth is grand,
Flowing out from her Creator's hand.
Like one who tracks his steps with light,
His footsteps ever greet our sight;
The earth below, the sky above,
Are full of tokens of his love; ?*'' .
But 'mid the fairest scenes we've sighed -
Our hearts are still unsatisfied.
We would see Jesus; proud and high
Temples and domes have met our eye.
We've gazed upon the glorious thought,
By earnest hands in marble wrought,
And listened where the flying feet
Beat time to music, soft and sweet;
But bow'rs of ease, and halls of pride,
Our yearning hearts ne'er satisfied.
We would see Jesus; we have heard
Tidings our inmost souls have stirred,
How, from their chambers full of night,
The darkened eyes receive the light;
How, at the music of his voice,
The lame do leap, the dumb rejoice.
Anxious we'll wait until we've seen
The good and gracious Nazarene.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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What I Learned From Loving You
Sometimes I still think of you
Love thats gone by and the things that I do.
Time heals hearts, so they all say
Passing of years slowly pulls the pain away
Oh, theres still a little tenderness
Left in everything I do
Its what I learned from loving you.
Its what I learned from loving you.
Times have changed, I have changed too
Even my eyes turned a deeper shade of blue
I guess its all that crying we went through
Its what I learned from loving you.
Its what I learned from loving you.
Well, I had too much to learn
To hold on to someone like you
It took losing you to make me see
The man you needed me to be.
I dont cry though were apart
And some day soon someone else
Will need this heart
Oh, next time Im gonna know
When a love is true
Its what I learned from loving you.
Its what I learned from loving you...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beautiful Creature
I consider myself as beautiful creatures
A real gift from almighty to live for future
It is really wonderful feeling as human being
We are expected to perform some changes or bring
If we are fortunate enough with all the facilities
We must harp on its proper utilities
It is good to use it at its full advantage
But it must also be ably managed
We are human being and so subjected to err
No one is fully contended or happy here
You may be doing all sort of activities
Yet it has to be exemplary with qualities
You must have an aptness for tolerance
As we are bound to show some intolerance
We may not like some of poor brethren
But we must have kind corner and little concern
If you develop such basic thinking
You will never face any problem and go down sinking
It is pure love, sympathy and affection
That is always reflected in your action
To love a person is beautiful gift
It helps to remove misunderstanding and rift
There is complete behavior change and shift
You will be concentrating on complete uplift
Despite all these we will have to bear in mind
God has created us to show tolerance and be kind
We might be blessed with talent and wealth
It must be used for good purpose till our death
You may get everything but not the love and affection
Any amount of cleverness or generosity will not affect any action
It will be your self satisfaction arising out of liberal attitude
People may express their gesture with praise and gratitude
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Art and Heart
Though critics may bow to art, and I am its own true lover,
It is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.
Though smooth be the heartless prayer, no ear in Heaven will mind it,
And the finest phrase falls dead if there is no feeling behind it.
Though perfect the player's touch, little, if any, he sways us,
Unless we feel his heart throb through the music he plays us.
Though the poet may spend his life in skilfully rounding a measure,
Unless he writes from a full, warm heart he gives us little pleasure.
So it is not the speech which tells, but the impulse which goes with the saying;
And it is not the words of the prayer, but the yearning back of the praying.
It is not the artist's skill which into our soul comes stealing
With a joy that is almost pain, but it is the player's feeling.
And it is not the poet's song, though sweeter than sweet bells chiming,
Which thrills us through and through, but the heart which beats under the rhyming.
And therefore I say again, though I am art's own true lover,
That it is not art, but heart, which wins the wide world over.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Are we serving others for a living?
If I want to drink,
I can hold,
two hands full.
If I want to eat,
I can fill,
one mouth full.
If I want to breathe,
I can fill,
two lungs full.
If I want to fill,
I can fill,
One stomach full.
We are filling up something,
all our life without thinking,
filling is not a simple process:
fulfilling the needs of others,
may make us the true human being,
as our hands for repetitive doing,
our minds for constant caring,
our hearts for intense loving and
our existence for simple serving.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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