Creation is a pleasure
Creativeness is not intelligence,
But is distinct, though a part.
To create is a pleasure.
Some have it in great measure.
Something, you too can create.
Something need be no big thing.
A climb from first to second
Or a climb from ninth to tenth
Gives you equal boost.
Every creation of you
Is a source of inspiration to you.
Sing, write, craft and enjoy.
30.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Once Again I Write...
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
I write to save my sanity.
I write to ease my heart.
I write to cleanse my soul.
I write to feel alive.
I write to keep my mind strong and my thoughts clear.
I write my words of sorrow, despair, pain, and love, as well as words of wisdom.
I write so that one day someone will truly know me.
This paper, this pen is once again my inspiration.
It is the inspiration to what I see.
It is the inspiration to what I hear.
It is the inspiration to what I feel.
It is the inspiration to the art I create.
It is the inspiration to what I draw.
It is the inspiration to the love for my daughter.
It is the inspiration to the love for my husband.
This pen, this paper is once again my savior.
Once again I write to say thank you my timeless friends.
Thank you for saving me time and time again.
poem by Sara Jo Andrews
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You Great Goddess Of Nature
You great Goddess of Nature I see the beauty you create every day
In saying you are the only God I know of I do mean what I say
'Tis said that you and Mother Nature are one and of the same
Goddess of Nature or Mother Nature you go by either name
The beauty that you create is for all to enjoy
I have loved the beauty you create ever since I was a boy
If others have their own Gods well that's okay with me
Each to their own belief as some do say for that's how it ought to be
You great Goddess of Nature of you little I know
Your great and ancient waterways to your huge oceans flow
The Goddess of the Seasons the creator supreme
You do not have an equal that's how to me 'twould seem
You great Goddess of Nature though to you I never pray
My love for you grows stronger with every passing day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I am Creation A Creative Force/Agent of Existence
I am creation
A creation of
existence
an agent of existence
endowed with the power to create
Though I create I'm not God
Don't Let Creators fool you
into divisive worship of themselves
God exists as eternal existence
A loving force embracing
creators and creations
all unique forms
with love alike and equal
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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The Skeleton & The Roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
I am the fairground man at heart
I run the roundabout this part
I fill this fair but custom have I none
I turn the handle round so fast it makes my elbow ache
Nobody seems to care
No-one rides upon my roundabout no longer anymore
Oh what a horrid fair!
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Money there is none - Im thinner than a skeleton
But wait a minute, Im so thin
That all these aches and pains could be a chance for me
I could be a horror or a ghost in a ghost train
I think Ill go and see
I meet the man who runs the ghost train
He says, youre just great!
Ill pay you top class wages
If youll just hang from this gate
A year is passing lots of food and money come my way
Oh lucky man am i
But whos this telling me, youre fired!
Youre much too fat to be a ghost, be on your way!
So here I am
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
Climb aboard my roundabout
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dusty's Trail
Dusty's Trail is about…
Hiking up to Laban Rata at 11,000 feet,
Climbing up to Low's Peak at 4,095.2 meters,
Of majestic Mount Kinabalu.
Mount Kinabalu here we come,
Here we hike and we climb,
To explore and conquer
The beauty of the Mount Kinabalu.
Mount Kinabalu located in Sabah,
Land Below the Wind,
Mount Kinabalu, a World Heritage Site,
An oasis of calm and tranquility.
To discover true meaning of life,
Of a world in motion;
To create global awareness of Duchenne,
Let the trail Mount Kinabalu begins the journey.
Challenging climb yet achievable,
To help the Duchenne victims
In fulfilling their dreams,
Becoming healthy children.
This expedition will
build confidence and give hope
Among the Duchenne victims
Among victim's families.
Dusty's Trail is about…
Finding a cure one day,
Finding drugs to ease their sufferings,
Painful relieves among victims.
Let Mount Kinabalu expedition
To create Dusty trail,
To create unity and strength,
To create friendship among climbers from different countries.
Coalition Duchenne's spirit continues
To search funds for Research & Development of new drug,
To provide supports and ultimately find a cure,
For the victims and family members.
May this expedition
Bring hope, inspiration and aspiration.
May the victims continue
to live life to the fullest.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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What We Focus On
Focusing on sin which is the basis of religion,
you get more of the same thing.
This ends up being our drama of the world,
forever spiraling in a swirl.
For we were Not Born in sin,
Jesus came to show us how to live.
We can make people feel guilty and this is what you get,
making people concentrate on negativity and forget.
Forget that they were never separated from the Source,
and of course never meant to feel guilty or shamed,
but we need someone to blame.
Blame it on the Devil, blame it on God,
blame it on someone for 'crying truthful words outloud'.
The Source brought us here to Create,
create in this physical world and be great!
www.christinasunrise.com www.suechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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When we create something, we always create it first in a thought form. If we are basically positive in attitude, expecting and envisioning pleasure, satisfaction and happiness, we will attract and create people, situations, and events which conform to our positive expectations.
quote by Shakti Gawain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poets Dreams
Poets Dreams
Pray dream of wondrous places where inspiration grows on trees
And jangles ever more in a soft warm scented breeze
Where all of us that even once did pause to write
Will find some inspiration comes to us in the night
When dreams portray through swirling mists
The true passion of a lovers kiss
And so can bring some prose to those
Who strain to see on their tip toes
The wonders of a new bloomed rose
That's growing just behind that wall
We couldn't climb when we were small
Sweet dreams I sanction for all who scribe
Those who create must not be denied
A vision from whence they cast new scenes
Painted here in rhyme from those eerie dreams
Take sustenance and candles long
Behold the words that flow upon
The parchment, screen or paper pad
With quill or type or pen we're glad
To find the steady pass of time
Does not our spirits undermine
As long as ever more may we write
Through sunny days and flicker filled nights
(c) Rhumour
February 6th 2009
Based On Sin
Focusing on sin which is the basis of religion,
you get more of the same thing.
This ends up being our drama of the world,
forever spiraling in a swirl.
For if we are suppose to be born in sin,
Jesus came to show us how to live.
We can make people feel guilty and this is what you get,
making people concentrate on negativity and forget.
Forget that they were never separated from the Source,
and of course never meant to feel guilty or shamed,
but we need someone to blame.
Blame it on the Devil, blame it on God,
blame on someone somehow.
The Source brought us here to create,
create in this physical world and be great!
WrittenBy Christina Sunrise on December 15,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Love Poets
The love poets sit and write psalms or
songs with the extension of their palms
they sit and wait untill they catch a glimpse of you
Because girls like you are the inspiration
The poet is dying to find a way to re-create your beauty
but what we create can only do so much as to aleviate
The stress that builds on our chest,
I feel it everytime i sit beside you
I jot down lyrics each time i sight you
and if i could slip you this kiss you
could circle yes, no or maybe, despite who might see
Your the inspiration that keeps me writing without end
You make me wish i had and unlimited amount of ink in this pen
because each time i write a poem, and you that its about
I start describing why i love you, and the ink in my pen just runs out
You could say im a love poet, but what
would these be without you.
Every syllable, line, metaphor is completely about you
Just, dig through the meaning
I hope you start to understand what my feelings are
Because when i write poetry, i feel this bar set by you and i cant reach
I want to incorporate your beauty into my poems, please teach
since this lesson would take much longer than 1 session
I cant wait for you and i to continue this progression
poem by Jason Murak
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Solo sex is man’s fantasy
Which part of a woman is not sexy
For a man who is manly crazy?
To him, her clothes and ornaments too.
His touch of her is not a must.
Her image in his brain will do.
A god send gift to human’s concept.
He indulges in sex with every woman,
Without a rape, without a consent,
Keeping them inside his head
And deriving pleasure from his fantasy.
29.05.2001, Berh
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Thoughts give birth to a creative force that is neither elemental nor sidereal. Thoughts create a new heaven, a new firmament, a new source of energy, from which new arts flow. When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven, as it were and from it the work that he desires to create flows into him. For such is the immensity of man that he is greater than heaven and earth.
quote by Philipus Aureolus Paracelsus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Climb, We Must
Climb we must, each step in life every day;
Climb we must, each rung in life, one by one;
Climb we must, with care slowly all the way;
Climb but steadily, it isn’t merely fun.
Haste could make a waste: fatal could be fall;
Tougher’s the climb when on the steeper side;
Time is short but still we obey His call;
God is our Master in whom we abide.
We ought to rest but when we find the time;
Climb we must, all day and rest during night;
Though success may not come, our duty’s prime;
God is our guide always: Beacon of light.
We ought to reach the place earmarked by God,
Although unshod and though we are from clod.
poem by John Celes
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Summer '79
Our last day of summer, 1979.
Gotta live it up one time before it's over.
We will make history tonight.
Out at the drive-in
all of our closest friends will be sneaking in.
You'll be spending your whole night
trying everything you can to get that girl to notice you.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Down at the roller rink
all the cool kids crowding around the air-hockey table.
"Hey, my best friend likes you!"
I hear you shout at me as you go skating by.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
Sneak out of your window darling.
Let's live like outlaws honey.
We'll never look back.
Climb out on this rooftop.
And stare at the city lights below us.
This world belongs to us tonight.
The kids will keep raging on and they ain't ever gonna stop.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
put the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
"We are the Champions" playing loud on the radio station.
Everyone sing with these anthems of our generation.
Cruising down Pacific Coast Highway,
pu the top down, crawl into the backseat.
Let's create anthems of our own tonight.
song performed by by Ataris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Balloon
The last balloon is leaving, the last balloon from fear
The last balloon is leaving, form that line right here
Climb aboard, climb aboard you menfolk
You wont need any bombs or knives
Climb aboard, climb aboard you menfolk
Leave all that to your former lives
Drop it all
The last balloon is leaving, the last balloon of all
The last balloon is leaving, undress, discard, let fall
Climb aboard, climb aboard you women
You wont need any gems or furs
Climb aboard, climb aboard you women
Leave all that to the bad old years
Drop it all
The last balloon is leaving, the last balloon theyll fly
The last balloon is leaving and we wont qualify
Climb aboard, climb aboard you children
Move aloft, while youre fleet and fast
Climb aboard, climb aboard you children
Were weighed down by our evil past
Drop us all, you should drop us all
Drop us all and free your hand
Drop us all, you should drop us all
Drop us all like so much sand
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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THE HAND (A Mechanical Genius)
To God I am thankful for many gifts;
But none more than a creative mind,
And the hands which are the finest tool,
With abilities to create that I easily can find.
As a child I first learned to cherish
My God-given opposable thumb,
Knowing how versatile a device
It is for whacking a fortuitous homerun.
And stubby fingers were early to meet,
And with artistic freedom employ,
All the many vividly colored crayons
To make graphic forms and scenes to enjoy.
And off running into the world of nature,
My hands kept quite busy in work and play.
Without them I found that I couldn't climb
Nor protect myself in the occasional fray.
My hands loved to tighten and repair my bike,
Seeming to be a mechanic of special training,
Taught by a higher intelligence unknown
For handling every task without complaining.
With maturity the hand becomes more adept,
A magical marvel for all creation to behold.
And in God's world of many forms to grasp,
It becomes an unique gift worth more than gold.
Then you find there's nothing your hands can't do,
‘Cause God has made them in His special way,
With the same loving care you make toys for a child,
Who might find nothing any better for hours of play.
We need to show God that we feel very blessed,
That He was the architect of this precious treasure;
So that we may join with Him in majestic fashion,
Giving the world with fervent impact endless pleasure.
poem by Albert Price
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What It Is Really?
somewhere our words take us
beyond
somehow we write because we
must rise
some build ships
some of us have to create an ocean to make these ships sail
some of us must know each feather to make us wings
some of us must assure that we too can fly
for we are part of this lonely planet looking for a cure
of humanity's universal sickness
this emptiness that no one feels
if i must, if need be, we too have to create God to create us
it is said He created us in His own image
and we who are lonely and fearful must accept and simply believe
we pay nothing for this
we only have an imagination
some of us has to settle in that bottom of faith
some floors must hold us as we float in space and need to land
we create floors we recreate the meaning of floating and settling
we are tired and what we need most is this peace
the calmness of everything is our dream
somewhere somehow we are and so we keep on writing
some of us has to imagine that we are at rest
some mock us because we seem to be always in motion
eternity, infinity, this somehow this somewhere
always taking us away from us
somehow somewhere we think we understand
we grope we feel and yet we are unable to hold any
and so we keep on saying and saying and saying
but what it is really? what it is really?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If birth (in answer to Johan Steyn)
If birth is only the first part
of everything that is creation,
how did a world exist
when you and I entered it?
With other beings, people
things like plants in it
and although at times half twisted
it is as if everything reaches
and sings to a godly being.
If we in confusion reach for concepts
that we were at a time part of God
why then can we only with our bodies create life,
and not find the binding
that gives that energy to a dead thing,
and why do you use blasphemy
to renounce the Creator
and jeer along with the prince of darkness?
Or do you not realize
that a rock stays a rock,
and man is no god,
at times just an animal fool
who can propagate
and sometimes with integrity
and intelligence seek
a higher being who brings meaning?
[Reference: Die Evangelie volgens Valentinus (The gospel according to Valentinus) by Johan Steyn.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sonnet- My Poetry
I thought I started climbing just a hill;
With time, it dawned to me it was a peak;
I knew I had to climb up further still,
The peak was nowhere seen that I did seek.
I wasn't a mountaineer to begin with;
I slowly learnt to climb requiring skill;
Tho' an accident, my climb had its pith,
With ease I'll climb the summit on the hill.
And now I know the gradient so well,
And dangers of the terrain I climb in;
When I will reach the peak, no one can tell,
But now onwards, my ambition's to win.
A beacon from above doth goad me on,
And soon a dress of starry clouds, I'll don.
poem by John Celes
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In April
I sit on my pillow
My cat on my head
I hear your voice, boy
And cant forget
Your kisses were cold and
Full of loneliness
Hold deep sadness
With my hands
I wont be here - I wont be there
I will write another story
And my tears
Will create
Will create a lake of sorrows
Chorus:
But in april it sounds like love
When you call
You call my name
You call my name
But in april it sounds like love
When you call
You call my name
You call my name
You call my name
The door is open now
I have to go
The moon shines brighter
Than it did before
The clock strikes twelve
Theres no time
Time to sleep
Well go upstairs
Straight to the sky
Im not here - Im not there
Took a ball point pen to write you
And my tears
They create
They create a lake of sorrows
Im not here - Im not there
Took a ball point pen to write you
And my tears
They create
They create a lake of sorrows
Chorus
The door is open now
I have to go
The moon shines brighter
Than it did before
Was not here - was not there
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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