Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra
NOT 'mid the world's vain objects that enslave
The free-born Soul--that World whose vaunted skill
In selfish interest perverts the will,
Whose factions lead astray the wise and brave--
Not there; but in dark wood and rocky cave,
And hollow vale which foaming torrents fill
With omnipresent murmur as they rave
Down their steep beds, that never shall be still:
Here, mighty Nature! in this school sublime
I weigh the hopes and fears of suffering Spain;
For her consult the auguries of time,
And through the human heart explore my way;
And look and listen--gathering, whence I may,
Triumph, and thoughts no bondage can restrain.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Hole In My Soul
I can feel these four walls around me
I can feel them closing in on me
But I know theres someone out there
Ready and waiting
For the chance to set me free
I dont want nothing
Aint looking for no one
You walk into my life
Well I aint no hopeless romantic
Ive gotta listen to my cautious heart
Ive been dealing with my illusions of love
I built it up and then I tear it apart
And I feel this rising suspicion
That my heart will ever rule my mind
Well Im guilty of love
By my own admission
Come on girl let me do my time
Hey, when I call you
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, when I fall through
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Dont need no sisters of mercy
They set me off like a loaded gun
Aint nothing in this world possessing me
Honey youre the only one
Cant live in this empty sadness
Its more than we can endure
Well wise men say
That love is madness
Come on girl I say that love is the cure
Hey, when I call you
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, when I fall through
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, without you
I will fall through the hole in my soul
Hey, when I call you
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, when I fall through
I need to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, without you
I will fall through the hole in my soul
Hey, I need you
I need you to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, I want you to fill the hole in my soul
Hey, hey, hey, I need you to fill the hole in my soul
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines Composed A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey
Five years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods,
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world,
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft--
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity,
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.--I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love,
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels 0
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once,
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms,
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence--wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Let us...
Not the hollow wood to be drifted away aimlessly,
Not the Iron pillar to stay at a place dutifully,
Not the rainbow that was born through droplets colorfully,
we are the human to explore the world courageously.
The yarn of spider may look thin and fragile,
but more tensile and stronger than steel.
The thought of human may be restless and weak,
but more useful when it is put into task.
We are not rotten wood to drift away swiftly,
we are the well built boat to sail through the storm gently.
We are not the scuff holdings to obey silently,
We are the smart human to think rationally.
Let the salt in our sweat,
maintain the salinity
of oceans and seas,
Not again our tears!
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Thought I Cannot Complete
The thought I cannot complete,
This is the thought I cannot complete,
The thought of the life I lead,
The thought of the wonderful world I live in.
Thinking am I worth living in this precious world which we destroy for our survival,
Are we born to rule on this earth or are we born to serve on this earth.
Are we born to control the nature we cannot conserve, is this really the free world they claim to be, are we yet understanding the meaning of life.
This is the thought I cannot complete,
They say the brain is intellectual yet others believe money is power and so we claim to live in the free world we cannot afford.
I used to think religion is an individual belief though now I got caught in the world where i'm forced to believe even the fabricate religion yet I stand none credulous.
Does resurrection exist nor heaven and hell we told we will reach according to our good and evil deeds, or will I perish so the young soul shall be born,
This are the thoughts I cannot complete.
poem by Sefofane Shabalala
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Rave Un2 The Joy Fantastic
Rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
World full of lovers, city full of good times - rave
Dont go undercover, I can get u out of your mind - come on - rave
All you need is a good walk and a brand new position
Then we can spread the real soul, doin it like a mission (rave) - rave
Oh, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Everybody, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Arrividerci cock poppy, that was hip yesterday - rave
New thing hitting where it feel good, what did u say? - rave
Tell me all: aint that a bomb? mack daddy aint got no gun - rave
Everybody got a new thing, new fun - scandalous - rave
Ooh, uve got 2 - rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave
Everybody, rave un2 the joy fantastic - rave - ooh yeah oh
Come on, sugar
Rave
Take a look inside your mind
Sister got a sizzler on, (know she 2 hot) ooh - know she 2 hot (rave) - rave
Brutha playing an apache scarf
Gaultier - stop (oh-oh)
Ooh, ifhad a dollar 4 every time they smiled
Id sho nuff jump and holla
Cuz Id sho nuff be rich a while - rave
Everybody rave
(rave un2 the joy fantastic) - ooh rave {2x}
Ooh
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dons of Spain
The Eagle screams at the beck of trade, so Spain, as the world goes round,
Must wrestle the right to live or die from the sons of the land she found;
For, as in the days when the buccaneer was abroad on the Spanish Main,
The national honour is one thing dear to the hearts of the Dons of Spain.
She has slaughtered thousands with fire and sword, as the Christian world might know;
We murder millions, but, thank the Lord! we only starve 'em slow.
The times have changed since the days of old, but the same old facts remain –
We fight for Freedom, and God, and Gold, and the Spaniards fight for Spain.
We fought with the strength of the moral right, and they, as their ships went down,
They only fought with the grit to fight and their armour to help 'em drown.
It mattered little what chance or hope, for ever their path was plain,
The Church was the Church, and the Pope the Pope – but the Spaniards fought for Spain.
If Providence struck for the honest thief at times in the battle's din –
If ever it struck at the hypocrite – well, that's where the Turks came in;
But this remains ere we leave the wise to argue it through in vain –
There's something great in the wrong that dies as the Spaniards die for Spain.
The foes of Spain may be kin to us who are English heart and soul,
And proud of our national righteousness and proud of the lands we stole;
But we yet might pause while those brave men die and the death-drink pledge again –
For the sake of the past, if you're doomed, say I, may your death be a grand one, Spain!
Then here's to the bravest of Freedom's foes who ever with death have stood –
For the sake of the courage to die on steel as their fathers died on wood;
And here's a cheer for the flag unfurled in a hopeless cause again,
For the sake of the days when the Christian world was saved by the Dons of Spain.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Psalm 55
v.1-8,16-18,22
C. M.
Support for the afflicted and tempted soul.
O God, my refuge, hear my cries,
"Behold my flowing tears;
For earth and hell my hurt devise,
And triumph in my fears.
Their rage is leveled at my life,
My soul with guilt they load,
And fill my thoughts with inward strife,
To shake my hope in God.
With inward pain my heart-strings sound,
I groan with ev'ry breath;
Horror and fear beset me round
Amongst the shades of death.
O were I like a feathered dove,
And innocence had wings,
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all these restless things.
Let me to some wild desert go,
And find a peaceful home;
Where storms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.
Vain hopes, and vain inventions all
To 'scape the rage of hell!
The mighty God on whom I call,
Can save me here as well.
PAUSE.
By morning light I'll seek his face,
At noon repeat my cry;
The night shall hear me ask his grace,
Nor will he long deny.
God shall preserve my soul from fear,
Or shield me when afraid;
Ten thousand angels must appear,
If he command their aid.
I cast my burdens on the Lord,
The Lord sustains them all;
My courage rests upon his word,
That saints shall never fall.
My highest hopes shall not be vain,
My lips shall spread his praise;
While cruel and deceitful men
Scarce live out half their days.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The World
See, the world for youth prepares,
Harlot-like, her gaudy snares!
Pleasures round her seem to wait,
But 'tis all a painted cheat.
Rash and unsuspecting youth
Thinks to find thee always smooth,
Always kind, till better taught,
By experience dearly bought.
So the calm, but faithless sea
(Lively emblem, world, of thee)
Tempts the shepherd from the shore
Foreign regions to explore.
While no wrinkled wave is seen,
While the sky remains serene,
Fill'd with hopes, and golden schemes
Of a storm he little dreams.
But ere long the tempest raves,
Then he trembles at the waves;
Wishes then he had been wise,
But too late—he sinks and dies.
Hapless thus, are they, vain world,
Soon on rocks of ruin hurl'd,
Who admiring thee, untry'd,
Court thy pleasure. wealth, or pride.
Such a shipwreck had been mine,
Had not Jesus (name divine!)
Sav'd me with a mighty hand,
And restor'd my soul to land.
Now, with gratitude I raise
Ebenezers to his praise;
Now my rash pursuits are o'er,
I can trust thee, world, no more.
poem by John Newton
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When the World Goes Dark
when the world goes dark
and the grief emerges
washes over your being
pushing over your mind
when the world goes dark
and the monsters come out
taunting you with your fears
rocking your soul with pain
when the world goes dark
and time stops suddenly
and your trapped
in a never ending struggle
when the world goes dark
and the pain floods you
your heart shatters again
your souls light put out
when the world goes dark
and your all alone
crying those bitter tears
that taste like sadness
when the world goes dark
and only the truth is left
the ugly reality comes forth
the real behind all the masks
when the world goes dark
and its just you and me
my true self with show
i have nothing left unknown
poem by Sophie Kennedy
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From Boethius: De Consolatione Philosophiae; Book II. Metre 4.
Wouldst thou to some steadfast seat,
Out of Fortune's power retreat?
Wouldst thou, when fierce Eurus blows,
Calmly rest in safe repose?
Wouldst thou see the foaming main,
Tossing rave, but rave in vain?
Shun the mountain's airy brow,
Shun the sea-sapp'd sand below;
Soon th' aspiring fabric falls,
When loud Auster shakes her walls,
Soon the treach'rous sands retreat,
From beneath the cumbrous weight.
Fix not where the tempting height
Mingles danger with delight;
Safe upon the rocky ground,
Firm and low thy mansion found;
There, 'mid tempest's loudest roars,
Dashing waves and shatter'd shores,
Thou shalt sit and smile to see
All the world afraid but thee,
Lead a long and peaceful age,
And deride the utmost rage.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Burnt Out Is Now My Misery
Burnt out is now my misery--
love's yearning
No more unspeakably torments my heart,
Yet bearable alone through thee, my being--
All thou art not is idle, stale and dying,
Colourless, withered, dead,--save where thou art!
If I no more through false suspicion trouble
Thy happiness,--nor more my blood inflames my veins,
It is not turned to ice 'neath snowy cover,
But free from jealousy, to thee thy lover
Always with soul of ardour true remains.
So in their rapid fury mountain torrents
That hurl them off their moss-grown altars steep,
Seeking the flood with tossing, foaming riot--
Here in the vale are bound in the old currents,
To stream in future calm and clear and deep!
poem by Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy
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Who Am I
I am me, a walking talking living human
I, caged in my brain myself in command
Always thinking carried by my train of thoughts
Stopping at sadness of life rebounding with kindness,
Aggression laughter and sadness in life's situations
God's master creation the human race, heart bound
Expelling feelings of all kinds, I one of
Billions on earth each with their own
Concerns naturally for their own family,
Concern for a happy life to be born free.
I expel my thoughts that we all should
Live in the kingdom of freedom.
I am me, I am free, not so for many
In this world with human conflict.
Love fills my heart, love is the start
For a world of the free, yes,
For you and I, thru the eye of wisdom.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Ode On Lord Hay's BirthDay
A Muse, unskill'd in venal praise,
Unstain'd with flattery's art;
Who loves simplicity of lays
Breathed ardent from the heart;
While gratitude and joy inspire,
Resumes the long-unpractised lyre,
To hail, O H*, thy Natal Morn:
No gaudy wreathe of flowers she weaves,
But twines with oak the laurel leaves,
Thy cradle to adorn.
For not on beds of gaudy flowers
Thine ancestors reclined,
Where Sloth dissolves, and Spleen devours
All energy of mind.
To hurl the dart, to ride the car,
To stem the deluges of war,
And snatch from fate a sinking land:
Tremble th' Invader's lofty crest,
And from his grasp the dagger wrest,
And desolating brand:
'Twas this, that raised th' illustrious Line
To match the first in Fame!
A thousand years have seen it shine
With unabated flame.
Have seen thy mighty Sires appear
Foremost in Glory's high career,
The pride and pattern of the Brave.
Yet, pure from lust of blood their sire,
And from Ambition's wild desire,
They triumph'd but to save.
The Muse with joy attends their way,
The vale of Peace along;
There to its Lord the village gay
Renews the grateful song.
Yon castle's glittering towers contain
No pit of wo, nor clanking chain,
Nor to the suppliant's wail resound:
The open doors the needy bless,
Th' unfriended hail their calm recess,
And gladness smiles around.
There, to the sympathetic heart,
Life's best delights belong,
To mitigate the mourner's smart,
To guard the weak from wrong.
Ye Sons of Luxury, be wise:
Know, happiness for ever flies
The cold and solitary breast;
Then let the social instinct glow
And learn to feel another's wo,
And in his joy be bless'd.
O yet, ere Pleasure plant her snare
For unsuspecting youth;
Ere Flattery her song prepare
To check the voice of Truth;
O may his country's guardian Power
Attend the slumbering Infant's bower,
And bright, inspiring dreams impart;
To rouse th' hereditary fire,
To kindle each sublime desire,
Exalt, and warm the heart.
Swift to reward a Parent's fears,
A Parent's hopes to crown,
Roll on in peace, ye blooming years,
That rear him to renown;
When in his finish'd form and face
Admiring multitudes shall trace
Each patrimonial charm combined,
The courteous yet majestic mien,
The liberal smile, the look serene,
The great and gentle mind.
Yet, though thou draw a nation's eyes,
And win a nation's love,
Let not thy towering mind despise
The village and the grove.
No slander there shall wound thy fame,
No ruffian take his deadly aim.
No rival weave the secret snare;
For Innocence with angel smile
Simplicity that knows no guile,
And Love and Peace are there.
When winds the mountain oak assail,
And lay its glories waste,
Content may slumber in the vale,
Unconscious of the blast.
Through scenes of tumult while we roam,
The heart, alas! is ne'er at home,
It hopes in time to roam no more;
The mariner, not vainly brave,
Combats the storm, and rides the wave,
To rest at last on shore.
Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe,
How vain your mask of state!
The good alone have joy sincere,
The good alone are great:
Great, when, amid the vale of peace,
They bid the plaint of sorrow cease,
And hear the voice of artless praise;
As when along the trophied plain
Sublime they lead the victor train,
While shouting nations gaze.
poem by James Beattie
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A Mystery of Dreams Explored!
Is dream born out of poetry or poetry out of dream?
Imagination is foundation for both coupled with passion!
Imagination, emotion and dreams weave poems of fantasy
To take one to the world of exotic nature from Nature!
Nature is the mother for all passion, dreams and fantasy
Urging to spin countless poems of heart to kindle thoughts
That mystics in communion with Nature explore high
To Stars, galaxies and heaven to bring divinity to human!
Sans a sense of feeling born of pure passion in Nature long
No sensation of exotic feeling can drive one to explore
Mystically the mysteries of miracles to discover divine spirit
Dwelling deep in all things of wonder present all over Universe!
Indwelling spirit in all activates mind in quest of wonders
Abound in Universe to realize Universal Spirit to reach at last!
poem by Ramesh T A
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I Dream of a New Land
my soul chained with fears
caged in a dark place
cries with sorrowful tears
down my pale, hollow face
the notes of my song die
before even being born
my broken wings cannot fly
deep in my heart, I can feel
this sharp, constant thorn
I dream of a new land
the land of the blue skies
-the land of the free-
across this desert,
across this dry sand
across this stormy sea
will I dare to act on my dreams?
will I dare to rise and break my chains?
will I dare to free all the inside screams?
will I dare to reveal all my pains?
my soul without any fears
flies free in a colorful place
cries with new happy tears
down my bright, beautiful face
a new song is born in an instant
I carry it on my new silver wings
there’s no time and no distance
I’m born in the eternal existence
my heart forever sings
I dream of a new land
the land of the blue skies
-the land of the free-
across this desert,
across this dry sand
across this stormy sea
poem by Alexandru Marius (3 February 2021)
Submitted by anonym
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Saying Sayings of Old
The same excuses come to mind
all the reason why 'we' can't, shouldn't or don't
It is so tiresome, because there is no solution to find
I find myself using the same quote
'It's wrong and she won't' These words fill up my head
weighing me down like a block of lead
my heart tells me there's no reason it can't be
my heart says there is no reason she can't be with me
my heart deceives me and leads me astray
opening my cage into a world i do not know....
everything around me so confusing....in a world thats so fey
the world around me seems caitiff and just a facade... a show
why does this torture have to be real
why is everything based on what 'I' feel?
I can't keep saying the same things and stay here to die
but to leave.... i would leave my heart and what am i then? ... i must stay
there must be a solution, but all reason is clouded
all shrouded
by these accursed sayings: 'we can't, shouldn't and don; t.... it's wrong! '
I will reject all those thoughts, yet doing so.... i lose my soul
whats worse to lose a soul or a heart? i have fallen deep in a hole
I must choose what to lose a song, ?
or hope, heart or soul? curse you sayings of old
curse you this lyric, o cry for help, curse you sayings OF OLD!
and yet..... i can't....
poem by David Knox
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Your World
The warmest day of all my life
You came to me, I held you in my hands
And something changed forever
I want you for a better time
To know the beauty of our Mother Earth
Cherish her forever
Never felt in such a hurry
So little time, so much to do
I lie awake and dream the dreams I'll share with you
This is your world now
No one can chase all your fears away
This is your world now
Trust in your heart to lead the way
I still recall a day so clear
I saw the future in my mother's eyes
Filled with tears of sorrow
The years roll by, the times do change
The truth around us harder to disguise
As we face tomorrow
So many promises were made me
So little hope remains alive
I only pray the dreams I leave you will survive
This is your world now
No one can chase all your fears away
Fight for your world now
Trust in your heart to find the way
You'll see what I'm saying / When you're on your own
The war that you're facing / Isn't yours alone
I am a man in search of reasons
Though I am still as much to blame
It's up to me to leave you more than just my name
This is your world now
No one can chase all your fears away
Fight for your world now
Trust in your heart to lead the way
This is your world now
I want to chase all your fears away
Fight for your world now
I know that somehow you'll find your way
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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who Am I
I am me, a walking talking living human
I, caged in my brain myself in command
Always thinking carried by my train of thoughts,
Stopping at stations of life rebounding with kindness
Aggression laughter and sadness in life’s situations.
God’s master creation the human race, heart bound
Expelling feelings of all kinds, I one of
Billions on earth each with their own
Concerns naturally for their own family,
Concern for a happy life to be born free.
I expel my thoughts that we all should
Live in the kingdom of freedom.
I am me, I am free, not so for many
In this world with human conflict.
Love fills my heart, love is the start
For a world of the free, yes,
For you and I, thru the eye of wisdom.
Unification of giving by everyone to feed
The starving of the world,
Who am I, I am one who wants to sell the wisdom
Of kindness for the poor without food without dignity,
It all just makes sense for us all to give.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some May Feel I am Negative
In my lifetime of wars, famines and prejudice the World may not be free
Nor not in a thousand years from now or so 'twould seem to me
For acts of terror leads to more terror and mistrust leads to hate
And in this age of advanced technology not much to celebrate.
Some may feel I am negative just going by what I say
That I'm one of those who look at life in quite a jaundiced way
But in a World where some have too much and many of hunger die
To sing about a perfect World would be a perfect lie.
The World would be a better World without human selfishness and greed
And the marvellous gift of selflessness to a better World would lead
But us humans have our failings and in some ways we are small
And it's all part of our Nature, we are human after all.
In my own lifetime and centuries from now I cannot seem to see
A World that's free of war and bloodshed and human misery
And men will still wage war for God and Land and in war so called winners don't win
And for the God we do not know we neglect our God within.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Im Born Again
Im born again, I feel free
No longer alone
A bright light is shinning
And shows me a world that I own
I can see my way through
I know I will walk beside you
All those prayers of mine werent in vain
Im born again
Im born again, I feel free
Theres a quite different me
No longer Im tossed like a ship
On an unruly sea
Ive been blessed with a love
Thats meant for the rest of my time
All those prayers they were not in vain
Im born again
Since love touched my heart right
My life has a meaning
I feel Im no longer drifting in space
I believe once again that there is a tomorrow
A brand new tomorrow, I know I can face
Im born again, I feel free
No longer alone
A bright light is shinning
And shows me a world that I own
I can see my way through
I know I will walk beside you
All those prayers of mine werent in vain
Im born again
All those prayers they werent in vain
cause Im born again
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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