My Garden
The world is sadly sick, they say,
And plagued by woe and pain.
But look! How looms my garden gay,
With blooms in golden reign!
With lyric music in the air,
Of joy fulfilled in song,
I can't believe that anywhere
Is hate and harm and wrong.
A paradise my garden is,
And there my day is spent;
A steep myself in sunny bliss,
Incredibly content.
Feeling that I am truly part
Of peace so rapt and still,
There's not a care within my heart . . .
How can the world be ill?
Aye, though the land be sick they say,
And named unto pain,
My garden never was so gay,
So innocent, so sane.
My roses mock at misery,
My thrushes vie in song . . .
When only beauty I can see,
How can the world be wrong?
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Am Sick....
I am sick …. The pain I feel.
I am sick…. This must be surreal.
I am sick…. I will not die.
I am sick…. But I must live on with this lie.
I am sick…. It’s not like cancer it’s not that bad.
I am sick… but the say depression goes with this pain I have.
I am sick…. It will never disappear.
I am sick…. My days will go on with the same o’l tear.
I am sick…. That I have thought of taking my pain away.
I am sick…. For that I cannot for the pain must stay.
I am sick… and no one can fix me.
I am sick…. That no one can see.
I am sick…. They believe nothing is wrong with me.
I am sick…. Because of this disease.
I am sick…. Because I beg god please.
poem by Winifred Harkness
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In This Garden
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
The flowers and the grass
The stones and the water
The sculptures and all art
Sing a song
A song of beauty
A song of harmony
A song of hope
The wind whistles gently
Is it to the east?
Or is it to the west?
I don’t know and I don’t need to know
All is so beautiful
Hush…
Hush humanity
Hush…
I can feel the scent on y nostrils
The scent of the flowers
The sound of the water nearby welcoming
Peace
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With beautiful flowers
Where art lives
Hush
Play the music
Let the flowers live the music
Let the drums be heard
Let the music come to life
Play the music
Let it be heard here today
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With very beautiful flowers
Where art comes to life
poem by Jack Shaka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Garden
The Garden
By: Adam M. Snow
The garden blooms to your delight;
to and from this very night.
When you are but one;
this garden blooms until you're done.
Keep that in mind but out of sight;
this garden is full of roses so white.
Open up and let shine the sun;
for Springtime has only begun.
Show off your garden so bright;
for there is no need to fight.
Now go on, no need to run;
when you're in your garden my son.
poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Garden Of Hate
Oh I only had enough of you
Oh I did not ask for nothing else
But youve gone and found a one-way out
I stand here by myself
Oh I see a man hes got a broken arm
I dont know if I care
Follow him into the garden of hate
Everybodys going to be there
Its been some time since I last saw you
Can somebody here please tell me why
So many things I just dont understand
No matter how I try
A girl I know got quite cut up one night
I dont know if I care
She was in my garden of hate
So many others are there
Garden of hate
Ha haha garden of hate
Garden of hate
Ha haha garden of hate
Lyrics : j kerr music : burchill/kerr (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Heart Burns and Melts
My heart burns and melts with a pain and sickness
unlike this world has seen
for the tears and cries and pain and hurt of loved ones
my heart burns and melts with the ugliness which paints this world
a gloomy gray for the greed, violence, hate, and prejudice
which plaques our world
my heart burns and melts for the tired, hungry, weak, and poor
for the wars that slaughters billions and families
that are torn apart by lust and greed and jealously and hate
my heart burns and melts with a passion as strong as incense
as we live our lives in sin and vain without a care in the world
for the world we live in is cold as ice and the world is dark as pitch
for my heart burns and melts with a passion of pain and sadness
as my heart burns and melts like ice
for my heart burns and melts for the sick and needy of the world
for the broken hearts out there who need healing
for my heart burns and melts with a passion as strong as love itself
in hoping that one day the world will a happier place
enriched in golden bliss of happiness and peace on earth
for my heart burns with a passion for a dream
that's as sweet as love itself in all its beauty
poem by Brett Strotman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Secret Paradise
I have nurtured a garden for you in my heart,
A beautiful garden, full of sweet roses…
And jasmine trees in fragrance,
Where you see green and golden birds flew freely.
Every day I visited this garden paradise,
And cherished every moments of it,
As I promise not to leave and forget,
Our secret paradise, always blooming in my heart.
poem by Desert Life
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sick Of Living
Sick of living
Sick of pain
Sick of rejection
Sick of humanity
Sick of everything.
I'm sorry for the pain I have caused.
I'm sorry for the things I've done wrong.
I'm sorry for the bad things about me.
I'm sorry for the world being so shitty.
I'm sorry for it all.
I can only hope you will forgive me.
I can only hope that things will get better.
I can only hope for release.
I can only hope for the pain to stop.
poem by Heart of Ice Die Die Die
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In LIfe...Unless There Is Pain...There Can Not Be Joy
You Are The Pain and The Joy
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
Pain...and...Joy
You Are The Pain and The Joy
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
You Are The Pain and The Joy
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
In All Things...
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
Mother Of Pain and Of Joy
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
You Are The Pain and The Joy (rated 18 in group)
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
The Stage Of Life...
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
For The Love Of My Life
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
022-You Are The Pain and The Joy
You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.
You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.
You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.
You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.
You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.
You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.
You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.
You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.
You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.
You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.
You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.
You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.
You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.
You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.
You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chi
Pain!
Buried so far away. into my life of nothing
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
I am so high always. burying my life so slowly.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
It opens my mind to feelings. cant face bottom without something.
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole, bury pain!
Re-entering my head, feeling like Im god
With the world around me, cant you feel this pain?
Ripping through my heart!
Screaming through my mind!
Nothing I can kill!
Screaming a...
Lie! i! am!
Cant you tear my eyes out?
Cant you take my heart?
Away to heart
Good-bye...
Sick of the same old things
So I dig a hole this big
So I dig a hole this...
Pain, pain, pain...
song performed by by Korn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Garden
One moment alone in the garden,
Under the August skies;
The moon had gone but the stars shone on, -
Shone like your beautiful eyes.
Away from the glitter and gaslight,
Alone in the garden there,
While the mirth of the throng, in laugh and song,
Floated out on the air.
You looked down through the starlight,
And I looked up at you;
And a feeling came that I could not name, -
Something starnge and new.
Friends of a few weeks only, -
Why should it give me pain
To know you would go in the morrow,
And would not come again?
Formal friends of a season.
What matter that we must part?
But under the skies, with a swift surprise,
Each read the other's heart.
We did not speak, but your breath on my cheek
Was like a breeze of the south:
And your dark hair brushed my forehead
And your kiss fell on my mouth.
Some one was searching for me, -
Some one to say good-night;
And we went in from the garden,
Out of the sweet starlight,
Back to the glitter and music,
And we said 'Good-bye' in the hall,
When a dozen heard and echoed the word,
And then - well, that was all.
The river that rolls between us
Can never be crossed, I know,
For the waters are deep and the shores are steep,
And a maelstrom whirls below;
But I think we shall always remember,
Though we both may strive to forget,
How you looked in my eyes, 'neath the August skies,
After the moon had set; -
How you kissed my lips in the garden,
And we stood in a trance of bliss,
And our hearts seemed speaking together
In that one thrilling kiss.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Puddleton
I
Let others sing of Empire and of pomp beyond the sea,
A song of Little Puddleton is good enough for me,
A song of kindly living, and of coming home to tea.
I seldom read the papers, so I don't know what goes on.
I go to bed at sunset, and I leap alert at dawn,
To gossip with my garden, which I'll have you understand,
Is the neatest and the sweetest little garden in the land;
A span of sunny quietude, with walls so high and stout,
They shut me in from all the world, and shut the whole world out,
So that its sad bewilderment seems less than true to me:
As placid as a pool I live, as tranquil as a tree;
And all its glory I would give for glint of linnet's wings;
My cabbages are more to me than continents and kings.
Dominion have I of my own, where feud and faction cease,
A heaven of tranquillity, a paradise of peace.
II
Let continents be bathed in blood and cities leap in flame;
The life of Little Puddleton goes on and on the same;
Its ritual we follow, as we play a pleasant game.
The village wortkies sit and smoke their long-stemmed pipes of clay.
And cheerily they nod to me, and pass the time of day.
We talk of pigs and clover, and the prospect of the crops,
And the price of eggs and butter - there the conversation drops.
For in a doubt-distracted world I keep the rustic touch;
I think it better not to think too deeply nor too much;
But just to dream and take delight in all I hear and see,
The tinker in the tavern, with his trollop on his knee;
The ivied church, the anvil clang, the geese upon the green,
The drowsy noon, the hush of eve so holy and screne.
This is my world, then back again with heart of joy I go
To cottage walls of mellow stain, and garden all aglow.
III
For all I've been and all I've seen I have no vain regret
One comes to Little Puddleton, contented to forget;
Accepting village values, immemorially set.
I did not make this world and so it's not my job to mend;
But I have fought for fifty years and now I hear the end;
And I am heart-faint from the fight, and claim the right to rest,
And dare to hope the last of life will prove to be the best.
For there have I four sturdy walls with low and humble thatch,
A smiling little orchard and a big potato patch.
And so with hoe in hand I stand and mock the dubious sky;
let revolution rock the land, serene, secure am I.
I grow my simple food, I groom my lettuce and my beans;
I feast in colour, form and song, and ask not what it means.
Beauty suffiices in itself; then when my strength is spent,
like simple hind with empty mind, I cultivate content.
Behold then Little Puddleton, the end of all my dreams.
Not much to show for life, I know; yet O how sweet it seems!
For when defeated day goes down in carnage in the West,
How blesses sanctuary is, and peace and love and rest!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life's Garden
We all grow up in this Garden called Life,
There are many inner and outer strifes,
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
There are weeds and pests in this Garden called Life,
They are know as ignorance, greed, and vice.
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life.
Every garden needs sunshine and rain,
In this garden you will find joy and pain.
In this silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
Plant sparsely, your harvest will be a pittance,
Plant bountifully, your harvest will be munificence,
In this silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
Did you plant deeds of joy, love and peace?
Or did you drop seeds of hatred, conflict, and gloom?
The world will know by the plants' bloom.
In the silence, in the silence,
In this beautiful Garden called Life!
poem by Anna B. Kurzweil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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