Citatepedia^®.com

Honesty is being able to tell the truth without hurting anyone.

classic quote by Federico Fellini
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Truth Through Repetition

Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
ruth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition T
uth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tr
th through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tru
h through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Trut
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
hrough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth t
rough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth th
ough repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth thr
ugh repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth thro
gh repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth throu
h repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth throug
repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through
epetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through r
petition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through re
etition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through rep
tition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repe
ition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repet
tion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repeti
ion Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetit
on Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiti
n Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetitio
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiion
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
ruth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition T
uth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tr
th through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Tru
h through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Trut
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth
through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth

poem by David Keig
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Cant Stop Hurting You

She looked at me with eyes that cut right through me and said
You must be blind
Let me tell you a little something about yourself
Youre the hurtin kind
I must admit after the pain and fight
Ive a sneaking suspicion that you might be right
I love you, I love you, I love you
But I cant stop hurting you
I want to, I want to
I cant stop hurting you
I cant, I cant
I cant stop hurting you, its getting bad
I dont know what to do
I see you packing up all your precious little things
That mean so much to you
I hurt you now youre moving out again
But we know just what youll do
Well see the error of our ways in crime
With conciliatory promises well change this time
I love you, I love you, I love you
But I cant stop hurting you
I want to, I want to
I cant stop hurting you
I cant, I cant
I cant stop hurting you, its getting bad
I dont know what to do
I love you, I love you
I cant stop hurting you
I need to, I need to
I cant stop hurting you
I cant, I cant
I cant stop hurting you
Its getting bad, I dont know what to do
And when you go I miss you all night
The wounds heal from the scratch and bite
I dont know whats wrong
I dont know whats right
But I cant stop hurting you
I cant stop hurting you
We talk so coolly about the pros and cons
When I get hot headed I just cant hold on
I love you, I love you, I love you
I cant stop hurting you
I need to, I need to
I cant stop hurting you
I cant, I cant
I cant stop hurting you
Its getting bad, I dont know what to do

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Truth and Reality (Opinion)

Daily at the end of my "anusthaanam"-(spiritual ritual) ", I make a strong, fervent and sincere prayer to the Divinity that intellectuals and scholars in the world should be fearless and speak the truth without any inhibitions. This has been the tradition of our ancestors and speaking truth is essential for the benefit of the society and the society will be able to know the actualities and act on them.
Normally the rulers do not like the truth to be known. Also leaders of ideologies, religions, their supporters and the like also do not like the truth to be known to the ordinary people. The writers are normally and should be fearless such that the ills and evils in the society are exposed and remedial measures are taken. But what is truth?
Truth is what it is or as it is irrespective of perceptions of the individuals. Reality is what we see of truth; how much we see of truth. Reality is always dictated by our mental make-up, likes, dislikes, limitations in our ability and willingness to see, view, comprehend and accept the truth. Reality is individual's perception of the truth. Truth, most of the times, is only perceived and rarely understood or experienced. Thus reality is limited truth. Reality is either inability to be truthful or inability and limitations of the individual to see the truth unbiased. Also truth corresponds to the individual, about himself, his Self and the reality corresponds to the objective world within and without the body of the individual.
Real situations are compromised states of existence in the attempt of pursuit of the truth. We all talk about truth limited by our perception and not the truth most of the times. We have compulsions inbuilt, acquired or imagined not to accept the truth and allow truth to be spoken or spread through us. But truth is a flowing river. It may flood us but it never dries up. On the other the reality is like a stagnated lake. Our fear of repercussions taking place if we speak, accept or propagate truth, make us real and not truthful. We prefer peaceful and calm life. We call that realistic approach and adjust and compromise.
Thus, most of the times, we are not truthful. We are all limited and confined to our perceptions of truth. Truth is best revealed when understood or experienced. But we rarely get such insight. All our knowledge and information is hearsay through books, newspapers, magazines, radio and TV news channels, web sites etc, . We are all aware that these books and news items are filtered through the editors and owners of these media. Thus the perceptions of these responsible and financing individuals decide the truth content in the item. We pick up these as truth and argue or form our own perceptions. Sometimes the editorial policy of the editors or owners of these media do not allow truth as it is to reach us when they find it objectionable in that form. Thus truth is never completely known or allowed to be known and hence not completely comprehended. The fears, imaginations, illusions shape our perceptions and our comprehension of the truth. Many times it appears that no absolute truth exists or known, perceived or understood and experienced. Just as feelings and perceptions of good and bad and other qualities, truth is also relative as "truth to me", "truth to him", "truth to you", "truth to them" and a truth accepted by all is not possible and available to be expressed, accepted or spread and we all mistake our perceptions of truth as truth without understanding or experiencing the truth. But truth is like fire. It can not be hidden or held in hand.

the palm. Truth sneaks through our cautions and suppression and declares itself.

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Some Prefer To Keep It Frozen

Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.

Unfortunately...
Not everyone welcomes this gift to receive.
With a keeping it under wraps.
To pack away in one's attic.
Or...
Stored in one's basement.
To leave it frozen in a freezer,
With a thawing no one will ever see at all.

A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.

Honesty can be that one gift received,
To be quickly unwrapped to wear.
With a daring that is flaunted.
And exposing it to everyone,
To prove a truth living within...
Exists and is shown everywhere.

But,
Left corrupted...
A shocking honesty can awe.
To be abducted.
Shocking honesty can awe.
With none conducted.
A shocking honesty can awe.
And...
Leaving it to freeze,
Never to thaw.

A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
A shocking honesty and truth can awe.
Some prefer to keep frozen,
Never to thaw.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I. The Ring and the Book

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

If It's Hurting You

Please don't think of me
If you do you gotta block it
I got chills tonight
And you can't be here to stop it
I'm not a parasite
It's just a lonely night
Tonight

I walked from the bar
'Cause they were only laughing
I wished on our star
But they covered it in satin
I'm not a gigolo
That's what I want you to know
Tonight

Ooh ooh
I've hurt you I can see
Ooh ooh
Do you think it's not hurting me

Ooh ooh
The grass ain't always green
And if it's hurting you
You know that's its hurting me
You know that's its hurting me

You'll meet other men
Who will break your heart
If I see you with them
It's gonna tear me apart

Maybe in another life
We wouldn't be alone
Tonight

Ooh ooh
I've hurt you I can see
Ooh ooh
Do you think its not hurting me

Ooh ooh
The grass ain't always green
And if it's hurting you
You know that it's hurting me
You know that it's hurting me
You know that it's hurting me
You know that it's hurting me

song performed by Robbie Williams from Sing When You're Winning
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hurting

Hurting
hurting deeply
hurting severely
weeping, rolling, irritated
hurting
hurting like a caged boar
hurting like a woman in labour
hurting like a godly man prior
repentance
lamenting
lamenting like a hungry infant
outwitted by your superior craft
of segregation
stranded on a deserted island of
inferiority
burdened by excruciating pains caused
through deprivation
suffering from the wounds of
prejudices
haemorrhaging like a severed vessel-
weakened by your master culture
swamped by your perfect philosophy
imprisoned, betrayed, suppressed and
miseducated
with the perfect help plan.
Hurting, hurting, hurting!

poem by Paul Andrew Bourne
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Honest Truth

the truth is i love you
the truth is i always dream of you at night
the truth is i do my best to hide it from you
the truth is the future is blank without you
the truth is i am hurting
the truth is i am scared
i am scared how i pretend in front of everyone
the truth is a cannot tell anyone of this
the truth is i cannot even tell you
then it starts to hurt even more
the truth is i'm scared to tell you
the truth is you might be scared to break her heart
the truth is i'm scared you might love me too
the truth is i am not happy
the truth is i don't feel the love i want
the truth is i want to be loved by you only
the truth is you're too blind to see
the truth is you might not believe me if i told you
the truth is you might be scared of it
the truth is the emotional distance kills me
the truth is being close to you makes it worse
should i tell you this truth?
would you believe this truth?
the truth....the truth....the truth...
i'm the only one who knows the
and this truth hurts
because the truth is i love you
the truth is i love you
the truth is i still love you....

03 August 2010

poem by Neo Patricia Monamodi
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Truth The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth

Lonely days lonely nights
Hoping thing's gonna turn out right
You had me hanging on a string
For you I did most anything
You don't give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Its a blind mans eye baby ain't no youth
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Don't need your lies I got my proof
Put your face up to my window
Ask me baby what did I see
Well I know I know you ain't right
I know you ain't right for me
You don't give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little baby's got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
All I want is the truth
All I want is the truth
All I want is
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Blind mans eye baby ain't no use
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Don't need your lies I got nothing to prove
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little baby's got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
Don't hurt ya
Don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
Don't hurt ya don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
(fade)

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Truth Whole Truth, Nuthin But The Truth

(ian hunter)
Lonely days lonely nights
Hoping things gonna turn out right
You had me hanging on a string
For you I did most anything
You dont give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Its a blind mans eye baby aint no youth
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Dont need your lies I got my proof
Put your face up to my window
Ask me baby what did I see
Well I know I know you aint right
I know you aint right for me
You dont give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little babys got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
All I want is the truth
All I want is the truth
All I want is
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Blind mans eye baby aint no use
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Dont need your lies I got nothing to prove
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little babys got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
Dont hurt ya
Dont hurt ya
The truth dont hurt ya
The truth dont hurt ya
Dont hurt ya dont hurt ya
The truth dont hurt ya
(fade)

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Truth, The Whole Truth, Nuthin' But The Truth

(ian hunter)
Lonely days lonely nights
Hoping thing's gonna turn out right
You had me hanging on a string
For you i did most anything
You don't give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Its a blind mans eye baby ain't no youth
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Don't need your lies i got my proof
Put your face up to my window
Ask me baby what did i see
Well i know i know you ain't right
I know you ain't right for me
You don't give me no
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little baby's got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
All i want is the truth
All i want is the truth
All i want is
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Blind mans eye baby ain't no use
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Don't need your lies i got nothing to prove
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Gods little baby's got nothing to shoot
The truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth
Get your kicks on a different route
Don't hurt ya
Don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
Don't hurt ya don't hurt ya
The truth don't hurt ya
(fade)

song performed by Ian Hunter
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Sad But The Truth Is On

There are too many bold,
Sad but the truth is on.
And too may all-knowing for their teachers.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they say their teachers can't teach,
Or read, or write to them...
On their lowered levels.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.

Many never knew about a hug to touch.
Sad but the truth is on.
There's just too many needing loving.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they don't believe a lesson taught to them,
Reveals and begins to grow to show.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.

It's so sad about the truth!
The truth for so many has gone.
It's so sad to see it...
Nonexisting.

Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.

It's sad about the truth,
Today!
For so many that truth is gone.
It's so sad today...
That,
People sit back to watch it too!
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.

Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
'Cause nothing in the air is fair there!
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Ancient Banner

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Honesty Is Felt And Seen

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

You say the people don't re-act the way you expect.
But...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

Any 'thing' said to you upsets and affects,
'Cause...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

You say the people don't re-act the way you expect.
But...
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept an honesty is felt and seen.

You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.
You think a truth revealed,
Can be from some withheld.

And you can't accept...
An honesty is felt and seen.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

It's Only Love

Na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na

If you could feel what I feel
If I could make you see
If you could need like I need
I'd be the air that you breathe

You go straight to my head as I lie in my bed
I just can't win
I can't help the state I'm in

It's only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you can't do
It's only love then why am I hurting from it
It's only love if you're hurting too

Na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na

If you could share my wildest thoughts
Meet me in my mind
If you could want the way that I want
You'd want me all the time

You go straight to my head when I lie in my bed
I just can't win
I can't stop the state I'm in

It's only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you can't do
It's only love then why am I hurting from it
It's only love if you're hurting too

Every dream I dream has got you in
And every minute with you means everything
I wanna take you there where you've never been
In my dreams

You go straight to my head as I lie in my bed
I just can't win
I can't help the state I'm in

It's only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you can't do
It's only love so why am I hurting from it
It's only love if you're hurting too

Na na na na na na na na na
It's only love if you're hurting too

[...] Read more

song performed by Def Leppard from Euphoria
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Its Only Love

Na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na
If you could feel what I feel
If I could make you see
If you could need like I need
Id be the air that you breathe
You go straight to my head as I lie in my bed
I just cant win
I cant help the state Im in
Its only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you cant do
Its only love then why am I hurting from it
Its only love if youre hurting too
Na na na na na na na na na
Na na na na na na na na na
If you could share my wildest thoughts
Meet me in my mind
If you could want the way that I want
Youd want me all the time
You go straight to my head when I lie in my bed
I just cant win
I cant stop the state Im in
Its only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you cant do
Its only love then why am I hurting from it
Its only love if youre hurting too
Every dream I dream has got you in
And every minute with you means everything
I wanna take you there where youve never been
In my dreams
You go straight to my head as I lie in my bed
I just cant win
I cant help the state Im in
Its only love so why is falling in it
The one thing that you cant do
Its only love so why am I hurting from it
Its only love if youre hurting too
Na na na na na na na na na
Its only love if youre hurting too
Na na na na na na na na na
Its only love if youre hurting too

song performed by Def Leppard
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!