Sonnet XIII: Behold What Hap
Behold what hap Pygmalion had to frame
And carve his proper grief upon a stone;
My heavy fortune is much like the same:
I work on flint, and that's the cause I moan.
For hapless, lo, ev'n with mine own desires,
I figur'd on the table of my heart
The fairest form, the world's eye admires,
And so did perish by my proper art.
And still I toil, to change the marble breast
Of her, whose sweetest grace I do adore,
Yet cannot find her breath unto my rest:
Hard is her heart, and woe is me, therefore.
O happy he that joy'd his stone and art,
Unhappy I to love a stony heart.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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You Are A Stone Hearted
You are a stone hearted
that so my heart is bleeding
with your one hit
What my fragile heart will understand
harshness of your heart and
what your heart will understand
delicacy of my heart
My heart is more placid
than petal of any flower
Your heart is stone
that can overcome high tides of oceans
No fire can burn your heart
because you are a stone hearted
My heart can fuse with your little love
that so I hug without any care
or dare for life and death
My heart is a flower
Your heart is a stone
As a stone I worship your heart
offer my flower heart
Either you love or kick off
But my heart is made to adore you only.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Stone
The days have passed, nights are gone,
I'm still in love with a stone,
The seasons changed, the clay too came,
I still hold it with no moan,
The clay comes to me in so many shapes,
Wants me to hold it, whatever it may take,
But clay can hurt me, clay may fake,
Even if it's clay, I have a heart it can break,
The season may change,
The clay may go,
Slowing my heart beat,
All time low,
Stone is hard,
Stone is black,
Stone is emotionless,
Doesn't stab at back,
The clay, the stone, both make me die,
But if a stone does, even the clay may cry...
and I'll never ask why...
It's better to live with a stone,
not clay,
Clay is soft, but it hurts,
which is not the stone's way.....
poem by Apurva Jain
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Love Needs A Heart
(by lowell george, valerie carter & jackson browne)
Maybe the hardest thing Ive ever done
Was to walk away from you
Leaving behind the life that wed begun
I split myself in two
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
Rolling down that hill into the night
I could see the surprise and the hurt in your eyes
From behind each flashing city light
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If loves needs a heart like mine
Love wont come near me, she dont even hear me
She walks past my vacancy sign
Love needs a heart, trusting and blind
I wish that heart was mine
Proud and alone, cold as a stone
Im afraid to believe the things I feel
I can cry with the best I can laugh with the rest
But Im never sure when its real
And it may be the hardest thing Ive ever done
But apart from all that I hope to find
Wheres the heart thats been looking for mine?
I hope it finds me in time
Love needs a heart and I need to find
If love needs a heart like mine
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Change me, O heav'ns
Change me, O heav'ns, into the ruby stone,
That on my love's fair locks doth hang in gold:
Yet leave me speech, to her to make my moan;
And give me eyes, her beauties to behold.
Or, if you will not make my flesh a stone,
Make her hard heart seem flesh, that now seems none.
poem by John Wilbye
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About A Stone Without A Door
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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339
you are telling me about a stone
who refuses to admit anyone simply
because it has no door, no room and no space
for someone like you,
you who does not even know what knowing someone
really means. you ask the stone for a space and it says no
and you tell the stone that it has a space
where the leaf and a dropp of water live
the stone says no, and you insist because of the state you are in
you are dying and you need a place
perhaps a burial space where you may finally lay yourself
to rest, but the stone still says no, telling you that it has
no feelings that for centuries it has always been its nature
stony, stony silence, stony stares, unfeeling, that in its
house of stone, there exists no word for sympathy
that it is simply living up to the demands of its true nature
its tradition, and you finally understand, yet somehow you
tell the stone about what it does not know
inside it there is this leaf with dew, there is dropp of water
coming from the rain, that until now it has not fully known,
that inside its stony silence, there is still this song
that it has a heart that it keeps denying.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet XII: My Spotless Love
My spotless love hovers with white wings
About the temple of the proudest frame,
Where blaze those lights fairest of earthly things
Which clear our clouded world with brightest flame.
M'ambitious thoughts confined in her face
Affect no honor, but what she can give me;
My hopes do rest in limits of her grace;
I weigh no comfort unless she relieve me.
For she that can my heart imparadize
Holds in her fairest hand what dearest is:
My Fortune's wheel, the circle of her eyes,
Whose rolling grace deign once a turn of bliss.
All my life's sweet consists in her alone,
So much I love the most unloving one.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Work And Joy
Each day I live I thank the Lord
I do the work I love;
And in it find a rich reward,
All price and praise above.
For few may do the work they love,
The fond unique employ,
That fits them as a hand a glove,
And gives them joy.
Oh gentlefolk, do you and you
Who toil for daily hire,
Consider that the job you do
Is to your heart's desire?
Aye, though you are to it resigned,
And will no duty shirk,
Oh do you in your private mind
Adore your work?
Twice happy man whose job is joy,
Whose hand and heart combine,
In brave and excellent employ
As radiantly as mine!
But oh the weary, dreary day,
The wear and tear and irk
Of countless souls who cannot say:
'I love my work.'
poem by Robert William Service
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I Broke It All In Two
How could I have been so cruel
After all you've done for me
I should go back to school
To learn
The ways
Of love
I see the tables turn
Please don't desert me now
I acted like a fool
I know
I just stumble
Through the night
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way
Baby, what can I say?
You mean the world to me
Don't throw it all away
I promise
I'll change
One day
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way (my heart's not made of stone)
I pushed you way too far
Though you're my guiding star
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of stone (heart's not made of stone)
Though it seems to be that way (my heart's not made of stone)
I broke it all in two (broke it all in two)
Like a row of paper chains (a row of paper chains)
My heart's not made of wood (heart's not made of wood)
Though it seems to be that way
(heart of woo-oooh-ood)
(heart of woo-oooh-ood)
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Cannot Die
In crime and enmity they lie
Who sin and tell us love can die,
Who say to us in slander's breath
That love belongs to sin and death.
From heaven it came on angel's wing
To bloom on earth, eternal spring;
In falsehood's enmity they lie
Who sin and tell us love can die.
Twas born upon an angel's breast.
The softest dreams, the sweetest rest,
The brightest sun, the bluest sky,
Are love's own home and canopy.
The thought that cheers this heart of mine
Is that of love; love so divine
They sin who say in slander's breath
That love belongs to sin and death.
The sweetest voice that lips contain,
The sweetest thought that leaves the brain,
The sweetest feeling of the heart--
There's pleasure in its very smart.
The scent of rose and cinnamon
Is not like love remembered on;
In falsehood's enmity they lie
Who sin and tell us love can die.
poem by John Clare
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Sonnet 24: “Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled…”
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled,
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart,
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill,
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazed with thine eyes:
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done,
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee;
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art,
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Heart Turns To Stone
The days and nights you sit around wondering where can
She be
Hoping that she might appear, out of nowhere
But you fail to see
All the hurt inside, the wounded pride
Ooh what she went through for you
You cheated and lied, as her love slowly died
And her heart just broke in two
When she was with you, all along
Behind you right or wrong
She tried to hold on, hold on
But you went too far, and shes gone
And now its over and her heart turns to stone
No time for pity, when her heart turns to stone
She cries a little as her heart turns to stone
Shes that kind of woman
Shell do fine on her own
What you thought was a game
A game you were winning
Wouldnt go your way
Now youve lost what you had
And your back to the beginning
Its the price you have to pay
When she was with you, all along
Behind you right or wrong
She tried to hold on, hold on
But you went too far, and shes gone
And now its over and her heart turns to stone
No time for pity, when her heart turns to stone
She cries a little as her heart turns to stone
Shes that kind of woman
Shell get by on her own
She hides the pain
But her heart turns to stone
No time for pity
When her heart turns to stone
She cries sometimes
As her heart turns to stone
Shes that kind of woman
Shell get by on her own
Yeah its over
And her heart turns to stone
Dont look for pity now
When her heart turns to stone
Listen to her cry
Listen to her cry
Shes a woman now
Ooh its a sad thing to see
To see a heart turn to stone
The heart of a woman
A heart turned to stone
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Doubters And The Lovers
THE DOUBTERS.
YE love, and sonnets write! Fate's strange behest!
The heart, its hidden meaning to declare,
Must seek for rhymes, uniting pair with pair:
Learn, children, that the will is weak, at best.
Scarcely with freedom the o'erflowing breast
As yet can speak, and well may it beware;
Tempestuous passions sweep each chord that's there,
Then once more sink to night and gentle rest.
Why vex yourselves and us, the heavy stone
Up the steep path but step by step to roll?
It falls again, and ye ne'er cease to strive.
THE LOVERS.
But we are on the proper road alone!
If gladly is to thaw the frozen soul,
The fire of love must aye be kept alive.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Sonnet 24: Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart;
My body is the frame wherein 'tis held,
And perspective it is best painter's art.
For through the painter must you see his skill
To find where your true image pictured lies,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
That hath his windows glazèd with thine eyes.
Now see what good turns eyes for eyes have done:
Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me
Are windows to my breast, where-through the sun
Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee.
Yet eyes this cunning want to grace their art:
They draw but what they see, know not the heart.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Happy Girl
(annie roboff/beth neilsen chapman)
I used to live in a darkened room
Had a face of stone
And a heart of gloom
Lost my hope, I was so far gone
Cryin all my tears
With the curtains drawn
I didnt know until my soul broke free
Ive got these angels watching over me
Oh watch me go
Im a happy girl
Everybody knows
That the sweetest thing youll ever see
In the whole wide world
Is a happy girl
I used to hide in a party crowd
Bottled up inside
Feeling so left out
Standing in a corner wearing concrete shoes
With my frozen smile
And my lighted fuse
Now every time I start to feel like that
I roll out my heart like a welcome mat
Oh watch me go
Im a happy girl
Everybody knows
That the sweetest thing youll ever see
In the whole wide world
Is a happy girl
Laugh when I feel like it
Cry when I feel like it
Thats just how my life is
Thats how it goes
Oh watch me go
Im a happy girl
And Ive come to know
That the world wont change
Just cause I complain
Let the axis twirl
Im a happy girl
Oh watch me go
Im a happy girl
Everybody knows
That the sweetest thing youll ever see
In the whole wide world
Is a happy girl
Oh, yeah oh, yeah
Im a happy girl
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Altar
A broken ALTAR, Lord, thy servant rears,
Made of a heart and cemented with tears;
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workman's tool hath touch'd the same.
A HEART alone
Is such a stone,
As nothing but
Thy pow'r doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame
To praise thy name.
That if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
Oh, let thy blessed SACRIFICE be mine,
And sanctify this ALTAR to be thine.
poem by George Herbert
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Heavy Heart
Heavy heart think of yesterday
And you're torn apart
Thinking of the ways it was easier to smile
More than today love grew wild
Heavy heart like a perfect stranger
You make it hard
Taking all the blame - still you hear the sound
Calling your name - troubles coming down
Too heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
It's just like you to take it all so far
Then you feel abused and wonder who you are
Everything you've done - anything you start
Can turn and run
Ain't it true - it's only just a stage
Gotta give it room - start an empty page
Get back in the game - but do it your way
You don't have to play so heavy
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
When your heart is strong it leads you on
But when it breaks you
It devastates you for so long
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
Turn it around
It's pressing me down
Heavy heart
This time I find
It weighs on my mind
Heavy heart
song performed by by Heart from Passion Works
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone That You Love
you are unique
for having loved a stone
how did the stone
entice you?
are you seduced by
its silence?
are you tempted by
its solitude?
you take the pain
poking the stone to
your heart
and you bleed
you rub the stone
in the skin of your body
hoping that someday
the stone may have
feelings and
love you
but this is all useless
the stone is a stone is a stone
and there is no love
in its blank stare
there is no softness in its
belly
i ponder upon this
and come to think of it
you and the stone
are the same
on this hardheadedness
this futility
this numbness
this suffering without end
the stone can never give
a part of its cracks
it will never part with its
dust
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The World Is Stone
Stone, the world is stone
Its no trick of the light
Its hard on the soul
Stone, the world is stone
Cold to the touch
And hard on the soul
In the grey of the streets
In the neon unknown
I look for a sign
That Im not on my own
That Im not here alone
As the still of the night
And the choke of the air
And the winners delight
And the losers despair
Closes in left and right
I would love not to care
Stone, the world is stone
From a faraway look
Without stars in my eyes
Through the halls of the rich
And the flats of the poor
Wherever I go
Theres no warmth anymore
Theres no love anymore
So I turn on my heels
Im declining the fall
Ive had all I can take
With my back to the wall
Tell the world Im not in
Im not taking the call
Stone, the world is stone
But I saw it once
With the stars in my eyes
When each colour rang out
In a thunderous chrome
Its no trick of the light
I cant find my way home
In a world of stone
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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432
When You Got In
I Went Out
Such Is The Wrong Timing
Of Your
Compassion
Then We Talk
About The Proper Timing
Of Our Desires
You Set The Time, The Place, And The Mood
Now It Is Not Just Desire But
Love
Yes, Love,
But Sometimes I Still Wonder
What Love Is
When Two People Meet At The Proper Time
The Proper Place, And The Proper Mood
When Everything Seems Right
And Yet
Feels So Wrong
When Everything Is Supposedly Proper
And Yet
There Is Still This
Feeling Of Impropriety
I Am 48 Years Old And You Are 49
And I Am Just Asking
When We All Want To Be Inside The Room Of
Ecstacy
And Yet
They All Want Us
Out
Just Because They Also Feel
That The Timing May Be Right
But It Simply Does Not
Look All Right
And Then You Are A Little
Bit Irritated And You Ask
Finally
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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