Absolution
The anguish of the earth absolves our eyes
Till beauty shines in all that we can see.
War is our scourge; yet war has made us wise,
And, fighting for our freedom, we are free.
Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,
And loss of things desired; all these must pass.
We are the happy legion, for we know
Time’s but a golden wind that shakes the grass.
There was an hour when we were loth to part
From life we longed to share no less than others.
Now, having claimed this heritage of heart,
What need we more, my comrades and my brothers?
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Related quotes
Happy Birth Day
(On The First Birthday Of My Grand-daughter Eliza Zainab)
It is the wish of my soul, heart and brain
May you have happy day time and again,
Till the sun shines, till the world goes on.
May you never taste a moment of pain,
And you ever meet, not a loss but a gain.
Till the sun shines, till the world goes on.
May ever wrap you roses and perfumes,
Instead of tormenting smells and fumes,
Till the sun shines, till the world goes on.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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An Old Lesson From The Fields
Even as I watched the daylight how it sped
From noon till eve, and saw the light wind pass
In long pale waves across the flashing grass,
And heard through all my dreams, wherever led,
The thin cicada singing overhead,
I felt what joyance all this nature has,
And saw myself made clear as in a glass,
How that my soul was for the most part dead.
Oh, light, I cried, and, heaven, with all your blue,
Oh, earth, with all your sunny fruitfulness,
And ye, tall lillies, of the wind-vexed field,
What power and beauty life indeed might yield,
Could we but cast away its conscious stress,
Simple of heart, becoming even as you.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Universal Freedom Is......
Freedom from hunger and freedom from pain
freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.
Freedom to give and freedom to share
freedom from want and that of despair.
Freedom to think and freedom to know
freedom to achieve and freedom to grow.
Freedom from bondage and freedom of liberation
freedom from ignorance and any unknown situation.
Freedom to come and freedom to leave
freedom to stay and freedom to conceive.
Freedom from struggle and freedom of ease
freedom to enjoy and the capacity to please.
Freedom from failure and freedom of success
freedom from denial and freedom of access.
Freedom from illusion and freedom of reality
freedom to become what we are in actuality.
Freedom to live and freedom to die
freedom to laugh and freedom to cry.
Freedom to speak and freedom to listen
freedom to act based on a wise decision.
Freedom from hate and freedom of love
freedom of below and freedom of above.
Freedom of the past and freedom of the present
freedom of the future and what it can represent.
Freedom from war and freedom of peace
freedom to begin and freedom to cease.
Freedom from sickness and freedom of health
freedom from poverty and mishandled wealth.
Freedom from wrong and freedom being right
freedom of the day and freedom of the night.
Freedom to choose and freedom to reject
freedom to imagine what there is to expect.
Freedom from lust and freedom from greed
freedom from anger and freedom from breed.
Freedom from jealousy and freedom from pride
freedom from within and freedom from outside.
Freedom of always not having anything to hide.
Freedom from space and also freedom from time
freedom from attachment and freedom from crime
Freedom to work and freedom to play
freedom to believe and freedom to pray.
Freedom to experience a rebirth someday.
Freedom from the body and freedom from the mind
freedom from the ego and freedom from being blind.
Freedom of transcendence being of the spiritual kind.
Universal freedom is eternal and infinite bliss
we should all therefore be able to realise this.
poem by George Krokos
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Reckless Fury
Running, flaming, chasing
Watching the dust fly
Feeling only anger
Doesn't smile and doesn't cry
Freedom isn't everything
When you're only free to live
Sometimes life just takes it back
Whatever it has to give
Reckless fire, maniac fury
Eyes of flame and heart of steel
Not knowing what to be fighting for
These wounds will never heal
Never tire and never bleed
Invincible throughout
Each fight is like a paradise
Going without a doubt
Never born and never dying
A mere presence of the mind
What you can't even comprehend
Is what gives you the time
The time to breathe, the time to think
The time to hear this out
The time to run, the time to hide
The time to raise a shout
Reckless fire, maniac fury
Someone stop it before it's too late
The stars will fall and the moon will too
It's time to set this straight
No matter how long you keep fighting
This will one day end
The fire I can see so deep in your eyes
The fire only you can send
Stopping you, pushing you
Into the dirt
This time it's finally through
The reckless fire, the maniac fury
I've discovered it was just you
An Appeal for the Oppressed
Daughters of the Pilgrim sires,
Dwellers by their mouldering graves,
Watchers of their altar fires,
Look upon your country's slaves!
Look! 't is woman's streaming eye,
These are woman's fetter'd hands,
That to you so mournfully
Lift sad glance, and iron bands.
Mute, yet strong appeal of woe!
Wakes it not your starting tears?
Though your hearts may never know,
Half the bitter doom of hers.
Scars are on her fetter'd limbs,
Where the savage scourge hath been;
But the grief, her eye that dims,
Flows for deeper wounds within.
For the children of her love,
For the brothers of her race,
Sisters, like vine branches wove,
In one early dwelling place.
For the parent forms, that hung
Fondly o'er her infant sleep,
And for him, to whom she clung
With affection true and deep—
By her sad forsaken hearth,
'T is for these she wildly grieves!
Now all scatter'd o'er the earth,
Like the wind-strewn autumn leaves!
E'en her babes, so dear, so young,
And so treasured in her heart,
That the chords which round them clung
Seem'd its life, its dearest part—
These, ev'n these, were torn away!
These, that when all else were gone,
Cheer'd her heart with one bright ray,
That still bade its pulse beat on.
Then, to still her frantic woe,
The inhuman scourge was tried,
Till the tears that ceased to flow,
Were with redder drops supplied!
And can you behold unmoved,
All the crushing weight of grief,
That her aching heart has proved,
Seeking not to yield relief?
Are not woman's pulses warm,
Beating in this anguish'd breast?
Is it not a sister's form,
On whose limbs these fetters rest?
Oh then, save her from a doom,
Worse than all that ye may bear;
Let her pass not to the tomb
'Midst her bondage and despair.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Anger, my enemy or my friend?
Anger is my enemy
There is a plenty of anger inside of me
I have to control it now but I don’t know how
My anger is part of my frustration
It fades my concentration in my ambition
It causes me plenty of trouble
It makes my life horrible
Anger form fears in my heart
It makes me broken apart
My body shakes with anger
It will not stop forever
I feel like I’m alone in this world
Nobody say to me any word
But the anger inside of me becomes my friend
It will never leave me till the end
My anger doesn’t leave me
It’s always there inside of me
poem by Angelyn Agudo
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Ask My Mother
My eyes are red
Yet I did not smoke hemp
I have never been a smokered
Neither am I a drinkard.
But I am red in anger
Anger for my leaders.
.
They have have failed me,
They failed many a youth like me
Yes we are heading for a revolution
Revolution for a dying nation.
Ask my mother
She was here before my father.
.
When the white came
They killed my father
My sisters they raped.
They bent my brothers
Unto fields of foreign lands.
.
And I grown to know
They importants of freedom.
And I fought, me and my comrades
Again and again,
And then, the white,
They went away.
.
And then I picked them up
We picked them from the ground
Me and my brothers,
We made them our leaders
But they ended up making
themselves rulers.
.
Ask my mother, she has always
been here,
She was here when the white came,
She was also here when when they left.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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In These Poems That We Write
these are the wounds of the heart
let your fingers pierce that part
blood drips from a wounded heart
pain gleaming against the light
time has not healed the wounds
you can hear the screaming sounds
these are the wounds of my heart
we are not many miles apart
we share the wounds of the heart
in these poems that we draft
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXXVI
FEAR HAS CAST OUT LOVE
'Tis not that love is less or sorrow more
Than in the days when first these things began.
Even then you doubted, and our hearts were sore
And you rebelled because I was a man.
Even then you fought and wrestled with my plan
Of earthly bliss. What bitter anguish too
When at the hour decreed our passion ran
Out of our keeping and love claimed its due!
'Tis not love's fault we part, or grief's. Alas,
One mightier now compels us with His nod.
The fire of Heaven has touched us, and we pass
From pleasure's chastenings to a fiercer rod;
And fear has cast out love, for flesh is grass
And we are withered with the wrath of God.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Sonnet-'Tis God Who'll End the World
Would I be more happy, if blind since birth?
Would I be more happy if deaf all years?
Would I be more happy not seeing earth?
Would I be more happy then with less tears?
The earth is dying rapidly with time;
Mad men destroy its beauty very fast;
All things are changing including its clime;
The way things are, never happened in past.
The things that happen God knows, even before;
None know the mystery of Universe;
Apocalypse by men is mere folk-lore;
The wounds men inflict, God will surely nurse.
The world will end as per the divine plan;
The Doomsday can't be ushered in by Man.
poem by John Celes
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Our Heritage
This is our heritage; the far-flung grass,
The golden stubble and the dark-red moor;
Men pass and perish as the swift years pass,
But wide and wind-swept still the fields endure.
This is our heritage; the love of sport,
A fair ambition and a friendly strife,
The rivalry of farm and camp and court,
The keen endeavour of a clean, hard life.
The hoofs of horses on the trampled lea,
The crash and rattle of the broken rail
Where the first flight ride reckless, knee to knee,
And bold men face the dangers of the vale.
The cry of hounds, the holloa and the horn ;
The lean red shadows where the foxes run;
To these and all their challenge we were born,
And these we leave behind us, sire to son.
This is the heritage that none can take,
The gift we hold, the gift we give again,
And this the spirit that no Time can break,
So long as England and her fields remain.
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
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Caress
I used to be careless
Then I longed for the sweet caress
The freedom, the release
The end of me
It was what I ate every morning
That thought... dying didn't matter, no mourning
What is there to mourn when there's no value?
And what can you value in brokenness
In deceit, in hatred, in lust, in loneliness
All I valued was the caress,
The lovely dark touch
The release, the purpose, the crux
I earnestly waited
I ardently longed
I deeply desired
But one day my whole life changed...
I saw value, I felt value, I saw love, I felt love, joy unfeigned
I cant quite describe it, certainly not it all
It was the day He stopped my fall
But I still longed for the caress
The end to the pain, the end of suffering
I had new reasons now I must confess
But the old remained too
I still earnestly sought to escape, but this time to You
I sough the seemingly easier way out.
Let me just say it outright
I've always juts wanted to die, desired death, eternal night
I sought death, sometimes it was all I thought about...
But today (3-23-12) I finally felt fear
Not only did I not desire death
But I was afraid of it I could not just let
My life go, and I knew You were near
So I didn't want to die, I felt fear
I wanted to give my friend a gift
With hopes to encourage and uplift
I wanted to free my friends from the lie
With truth, love, faith and hope
Not be remembered as 'there for them', just to help them cope
But to free them from bondage
From death so they might have life, no cage
No prison, no lies, no fear, no shame, no death
I want to see them live, I want to live with them
I don't just want to know when
I want to be there
I want to be there when it happens
So I cant die... I won't die, not yet
Not till they know life.
Sorry God if it
s a selfish request or thought
But I fell like this is kingdom You brought
So now I want to bring them in
Please help, I cannot do it alone, not in my sin
But with You I'll take them back
So for the first time in my life I
I don't want to die
Help me show them Your love, let it overwhelm
All of this from a bee
That landed on me
You could say I'm allergic, I could go in a coma or die
I wished that ti would just fly
Away... but in that moment I caught
Myself fearing death, desiring life, I haven't fought
The good fight, I'm fighting
I'm loving
I'm seeking
I'm praying
I'm finally...
Finally
Living
poem by David Knox
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Perfect System
Im in love with you I know
And I know that you love me too
Im in love with you I know
Im in love with everyone too
Were all comrades now you know
Were all brothers under the skin
With a few adjustments now
Living in the perfect system
The adjustments simple there is really no pain
Youll hardly notice anything has changed
Living in a programmed life never really has ups and downs
Theres no need for fighting now
Theres no reason to wear a frown
In a perfect system
Theres no confrontation
Unnecessary friction
To impede our concentration
Weve simply done away with
Unnecessary friction
I live in a system
I got an occupation
I get enough nutrition
By eating protein biscuits
Recommended by the system
Its routine regulation
I had an operation . . .
Im in love with you I know
And I know that you love me too
Im in love with you I know
Im in love with everyone too
I can tell by the look in your blank dull eyes
That you agree, but Im not a bit surprised
Living in a programmed life never really has ups and downs
Theres no need for fighting now
Theres no reason to wear a frown
I had an operation
With no adverse reaction
They tampered with my brain some
It helped me see the reason
For living in the system
It helped me see the reason
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
In a perfect world theres uniformity
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
In a perfect world theres conformity
(were all brothers in a perfect world)
Theres no need for spontaneity
Perfect system were all brothers to the end
Brothers to the end
Brothers to the end
I know and I know that you love me too
(brothers to the end) I know Im in love with everyone too
(brothers to the end) I know were all comrades under the skin
(brothers to the end) I know living in a perfect system
Brothers to the end
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anger and Patience
Any time I don't understand something
Or feel unhappy with the way things are going,
Anger steps up, 'use me; let me help'
And I used to give Anger a lot of free rein,
Till I noticed Anger wasn't all that useful
And generally tended to only make things worse.
Now I try to rely more on 'Patience'
As Patience doesn't keep clicking that counter,
Adding up every resentment of the hour.
Besides, I can look straight into Patience's face
And not have one clue what Patience is thinking of.
You know, Anger could learn something from that.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Destiny& Agony Fighting onwards but I cant fight away
Agony entangles me and around my soul
Fire storms down on a winter night
Moonlight shines its glorious light
Signs of the battle for what witch will be right
Open the gates and carry away there fright
Through the valley of the thunder
Deep in stormy winter ice
Its time now so roll the dice
Is this the old mans advice
Suffering this agony is this the price
To stand up for glorious freedom
Or fall down in shame
You cant fly away
You will have to stand up and face thus
Brothers of fallen swords
Rise tonight
Past agony, and despair
Fighting onwards but can not fight away
Destiny awaits thee
Open the gates
Forevermore we fight
Fighting for freedom
Till the sword frees thus
Open the gates
As we walk through with honor
For freedom we fight
Freedom of personal will
Our souls will carry out another day
It will shine and raise past the universe
Forevermore we stay free
Forevermore we will fight for freedom
Till sword have free thus
For the sword I live
And by the sword I will fight to I die
For eternity I'll fight onwards even if I cant fight away
Ill rise again for Valhalla will await me and I will be immortal
For destiny will come as my time to stand by Odin's will come forth
As I walk through the gates
I walk through with honor
Freedom I fight to the end
for now destiny lays greater then kings and hummed lands
Fighting onwards but can not fight away
For freedom I fight
For freedom I lost sight
But my soul carries on
For now I'm immortal
As I stand side by side
destiny I ride
So open up the gates
As I walk thought with honor
Oh I awaited thee
The day when the sword would free
So destiny could be
To open the gates,
and walk through with honor
As i stand side by side with Odin
I am now immortal
poem by Daniel fairfield
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Vanity of Vanities
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.
Ye shall pass and be forgot,
And your place shall know you not.
Other generations rise,
With the same hope in their eyes
That in yours is kindled now,
And the same light on their brow.
They shall see the selfsame sun
That your eyes now gaze upon,
They shall breathe the same sweet air,
And shall reck not who ye were.
Yet they too shall fade at last
In the twilight of the past,
They and you alike shall be
Lost from the world's memory.
Then, while yet ye breathe and live,
Drink the cup that life can give.
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away,
Ere the golden bowl be broken,
Ere ye pass and leave no token,
Ere the silver cord be loosed,
Ere ye turn again to dust.
`And shall this be all,' ye cry,
`But to eat and drink and die?
If no more than this there be,
Vanity of vanity!'
Yea, all things are vanity,
And what else but vain are ye?
Ye who boast yourselves the kings
Over all created things.
Kings! whence came your right to reign?
Ye shall be dethroned again.
Yet for this, your one brief hour,
Wield your mockery of power.
Dupes of Fate, that treads you down
Wear awhile your tinsel crown
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Contemplation Of The Sword
Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide.
The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel,
formerly used to kill men, but here
In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms
and counter-storms of general destruction; killing
of men,
Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or
less intentional, of children and women;
Destruction poured down from wings, the air made accomplice,
the innocent air
Perverted into assasin and poisoner.
The sword: that is: treachery and cowardice, incredible
baseness, incredible courage, loyalties, insanities.
The sword: weeping and despair, mass-enslavement,
mass-tourture, frustration of all hopes
That starred man's forhead. Tyranny for freedom, horror for
happiness, famine for bread, carrion for children.
Reason will not decide at last, the sword will decide.
Dear God, who are the whole splendor of things and the sacred
stars, but also the cruelty and greed, the treacheries
And vileness, insanities and filth and anguish: now that this
thing comes near us again I am finding it hard
To praise you with a whole heart.
I know what pain is, but pain can shine. I know what death is,
I have sometimes
Longed for it. But cruelty and slavery and degredation,
pestilence, filth, the pitifulness
Of men like hurt little birds and animals . . . if you were
only
Waves beating rock, the wind and the iron-cored earth,
With what a heart I could praise your beauty.
You will not repent, nor cancel life, nor free man from anguish
For many ages to come. You are the one that tortures himself to
discover himself: I am
One that watches you and discovers you, and praises you in little
parables, idyl or tragedy, beautiful
Intolerable God.
The sword: that is:
I have two sons whom I love. They are twins, they were born
in nineteen sixteen, which seemed to us a dark year
Of a great war, and they are now of the age
That war prefers. The first-born is like his mother, he is so
beautiful
That persons I hardly know have stopped me on the street to
speak of the grave beauty of the boy's face.
The second-born has strength for his beauty; when he strips
for swimming the hero shoulders and wrestler loins
Make him seem clothed. The sword: that is: loathsome disfigurements,
blindness, mutilation, locked lips of boys
Too proud to scream.
Reason will not decide at last: the sword will decide.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Shakespeare in Love
To me my beauty you never shall be old,
Though Time shall scourge your fragile shield of flesh;
I balm those wounds as Time's cruel lash does scold,
And heal his welts, your loveliness refreshed;
For in my love are herbs of powers rare
Restoring as harsh Time does take away,
My eyes, your mirror, chastening your despair,
Reflecting forth you've aged not yet a day;
Take comfort then within this frame of youth:
You radiate impervious to decay;
Wise Men well know this immortal truth:
Time captures not true lovers in its sway;
Your beauty is the kindness of your soul,
And goodness ages not as Time unfolds.
poem by David McLansky
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I Am the Wind
I am the Wind,
I am a personification of freedom.
The whole Earth presents my kingdom.
That only one can be my wife
whose soul is free,
who understands my life.
Trust me and I’ll show you what freedom is.
But…don’t be in a hurry, please.
My gift of freedom is eternity,
it comes together with paternity.
My breathing is the God’s touch.
Just close your eyes
and you will feel so much.
I will open to you my face,
I will show you the grace
of the waves in the oceans and fields
made by my tender and elusive breath.
I will walk up and down your dress,
I will leave on your lips a hot kiss,
I will show your heart how to fly,
In my timid hugs you will never die.
I am the Wind,
I am refractory and love freedom,
I am the wonderer,
the Wind of wisdom.
I am an experienced lover.
Together with birds I hover
and then turn into a crazy hurricane.
The strength and power are in my vein.
Yes, my mood is so changeable,
but for you I can be so loveable.
Why my beauty you turned red?
I am yours. Aren’t you glad?
Don’t turn away your head!
I don’t know the word ‘no’.
If you don’t like me I will go.
But…if you give me your hand
I will show you the whole Land,
I will teach you the troubles to withstand.
I will fill your heart with love and belief,
you’ll be able to walk on any relief,
you will know how the seeds to sift,
freedom will be my wedding gift.
I am the Wind.
I am a personification of freedom.
It flows in my veins.
It will forever be retained.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Where Are The Others
I'm the only one you can think of to come,
When the end of a rope...
A dangling you do has been done.
And you are upset because I express no regret,
When a life you chose to live...
You did with the showing to me much disrespect.
When I suffered through my needs,
You weren't there to assist.
When I sat in loneliness and cried for years...
Not one time during that period did you appear.
And now you are here on my doorstep to say...
What you should have done,
Could have been done my way.
But the advice I gave,
You refused to accept another.
Where are the others,
You claimed to be your brothers.
Where are the others,
You followed to leave me behind...
In a grief you didn't seem to mind,
At that time.
Where are the others?
Those who you claimed,
To have been your close brothers.
Where are your...
Brothers?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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