You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered.
For you woman I shall not die
For you woman I shall not die
You woman of notorious name and high fame
Only foolish men with piercing eyes you may slay
But I and they are not the same
Why should I expire
for your eyes' fire
Ha slender waist? So what?
And for your swanlike limbs? I say tat
But I run from your round breast
the fresh skin, the crimson checks
hair like a waterfall, long and rich
Indeed, Indeed I shall hold
through sturdy high walls and wide moat
Please God! Not me for any such
yet the golden hair my eyes enthralled
the forehead thin, the gracious ears
the rounded heel, the languid tone
Oh fools! For fools alone find death from these
Mercy, your sharp wit, your perfect palm
The chaste mien, the white neck,
the brown eyes, your beautiful soul
has my heart as its goal
You graceful woman as a swan
wise man, while still wise, run
Or else plea to guardian God:
Save me or stab me before I succumb
Little palm? A White neck? or a bright eyes?
I shall not die for thee
Oh God let it not be me
copy rights 2010
- quotes about water
- quotes about women
- quotes about wisdom
- quotes about eyes
- quotes about humor
- quotes about white
- quotes about height
- quotes about divine
The Brides of Indra
Lo, 'tis Indra! he who kindles, God of celestial fire;
Who lights the thoughts of man with the flame of wild desire.
Have you watched the changeful sky, crimson, amethyst, and gold?
'T is his mantle, and the stars shine from every beaming fold.
He rides the snow-white elephant, lashed from the pale sea-foam.
From his hand the rushing thunderbolt, the arrowy lightning come.
Have you heard the shrieking east-wind when the trees were rent and strown,
And the white salt dust of the sea in the face of heaven was blown?
It is the wrath of Indra; and the sunlight is his smile.
When the clouds expire in raindrops, then Indra weeps the while.
In his beauty, none like him the earth or heaven have had:
With the wistful passion of a man, and the splendor of a god,
He has thrilled the earth's dark places, a supernal flash of fire,
He has sounded all the depths of guilt, and sorrow, and desire.
Now sinking in the struggle, now exalted soaring high,
The dark, wild heart of man strives with his divinity,
God of sunlight, God of storm, still the world his voice obeys,
And the sea of human passion, his mighty power still sways,
On its threshold, looking out on the changing world of life,
With its movement and its crowd, its uproar and its strife,
Stood a group of lovely maidens, charmed and dazzled by the glare.
The gaze of Indra fell upon them, and beholding them so fair
He loved them. Flashing earthward in a form of fire he came,
Kissed their lips, and then he left them, with blanched cheeks, and eyes aflame.
And they knew a god thus thrilled them; and had sought his home again
Ere they tasted aught of love, save its first and sudden pain.
Then they, with vague desire, in their innocence went forth;
Seeking what, or whom, they knew not, they wandered o'er the earth;
And Love, who only breathes in the clearer, upper air,
Led them to the hilly land, where the stars were shining near.
And there, though far beyond them, looking down from cloudless skies,
They saw the great god Indra, with outstretched arms and passionate eyes.
Then their hearts sank faint within them; fain was each one to turn back.
But the soul within had found its wings, and bore them rushing o'er the track,
In a superhuman ecstasy, along the dizzy space,
Till the arms of Indra clasped them in the fire of his embrace.
All unconscious of the bitter cost to those to whom 't is given
Thus to awaken the desire of the ardent sun of heaven,
With quivering lips and beating hearts was the sacrifice achieved,
And the sorrowful great gift---the love of Indra---they received.
Bear me witness, O ye mortals, by the kiss of fire refined,
How closely do the rapture and the anguish intertwine!
I know not which is greatest, for the bliss and suffering strain---
Strain alike, and all too fiercely, on the human heart and brain.
Yet who would cage his soul, when the mighty sun-god came
To thrill his being through, to draw his spirit forth in flame?
But the maidens, knowing naught of an Immortal's love,
Against the crown that Indra laid upon them, wildly, vainly strove;
Though it wrapped them in a glory, their young brows it scorched and tore,
And its golden hues the life-blood of the wearers crimsoned o'er.
"We are faint," they cried, "and weary; from our cheeks the blood has fled;
Our eyes are tired with beauty; in our souls the youth is dead;
The light is but a splendid pain; and, drooping, worn, and rent
With this eternal rapture, our weary hearts are spent;
We turn away in anguish, exhausted and oppressed.
From this fever of our lives, give us rest, give us rest."
They mourned thus until, at length, by resistless impulse led,
From the mountain of Méru, the brides of Indra fled;
Fled and sought those shadowy valleys where the stream of time flows by
Only measured by the seasons; and the mortal dwellers die
Of the slowly creeping years---not of sin, or shame, or wrong;
Not because they have lived too much, but because they 've lived too long.
Oh, what a pleasant land was that! Surely there might peace be found.
A sweet slumberous repose softly lay on all around.
No extreme of heat or cold, excess of light or depth of gloom,
Ever broke the wondrous calm of that wilderness of bloom.
And the hearts of those that dwelt there, emotion ne'er could move,
Or wake the slumbering ecstasies of hate, despair, or love.
Ever young and ever lovely were the women of that land,
And the men who ruled its councils were both courteous and bland.
No labor there was needed, no hardened hand of toil,
For all the heart could ask for sprang spontaneous from the soil.
Old age, disease, and poverty, and suffering could not stay,
For a dark and terrible river ever hurried them away,
As it poured its troubled waters through the shining land of gold,
Washing all its peaceful borders, muttering fiercely, as it rolled,
Words of menace and despair through its sinister black flood,
Which the smiling people on its banks heard, but never understood.
Wretched, flying, worn, and weary, to this luxurious land
Hither came these hapless wanderers, the fugitive fair band.
Their strange beauty and their wanness, born of passions here unknown
To the passionless who dwelt here, touched their hearts and they were won---
Touched their hearts with sweet compassion for each lovely fugitive,
And they cried, "Oh, stay here with us; we'll share with you, while we live."
Now pale, and with lustrous eyes, wandering daily side by side,
The once beloved of Indra in loneliness abide;
No friendly voices greet them as, dejected and apart,
They pass the idle throng, slow of step and sad at heart.
Each morning wakes anew a gnawing, fierce desire,
That the evening, in despair and in misery, sees expire;
And a curse pursues them ever like an avenging ghost---
The curse that haunts and maddens, of a glory won and lost.
A Poem of Tears in the Darkness
Now you've gone away all I can hear is the whispering of blood in my veins
And the loud clamour of tears in the darkness.
I used to be so afraid, so very afraid, that you'd reject my love,
Now I feel the nails pierce my hands and feet
While the soldiers are laughing below as they barter for my clothes.
Did I always know it would end in crucifixion?
I dared to love against the odds and the angry gods are punishing me for my blasphemy.
It's very hard to see things clearly now
And not to blame you for the hurt inside.
I love you so much still, my dear sweet enemy,
But really I should hate you and turn away.
There has been slaughter for less than this,
Blood spilt in anger that cries out from the ground.
How could I ever hate you?
The gods demand a sacrifice.
They are breaking my body like you broke my heart
And a voice proclaims 'You will never escape this sorrow! '
Assaulting emcee's with my lyrical artillery
You sicken me the epitome of lyrical wizardry
Ability for spitten' these rhymes without no sympathy
Verbally assaulting emcee's they should imprison me
Given me, electrocution cookin' me like ?quickasee?
The should call you emcee social studies cuz you history
Mystery why punk ass kids wanna mess wit me
Infecting me with deafening music it is upsetting me
(I got) punch lines like people at the prom waitin' for juice
You got whack rhymes use the mic cord as a noose
I'm sorta confused, cuz I thought I saw on the news
That there's an epidemic spreading and they caught it from you
It's whack rapper disease and it affects punk emcees
You beating me is like black folks on ski's
You'll never see it kid, not even in your dreams
I need skills like Carson Daily needs screamin' teens
[Chorus: repeat 2X]
Step up if you wanna get hurt
Comin' wit the grime and the grit and the dirt
Step up if you wanna get hurt
I talk trash so cats wanna battle me now
Well ain't cute no more, just like Little Bow Wow
A fowl mouth, assaulting emcee's stompin'em out
Talkin' more garbage than Oscar the grouch
I'm knockin'em out, like fish you be floppin' around
Paramedics are jetting you to the hospital now
Choppin'em down, like a lumberjack wit an ax
All that's left is puddles of blood with kangols and backpacks
Whipen'em out, like some boogies on a snot rag
Thugs be boys, nerd emcee's and even art fags
Not sad, I'm happy like Gilmore
I'm ill raw, funky, fresh, deaf and still more
I'm real poor, only chips I'm stackin' is my Pringles
Punch bachelors so I can say I have hit singles
I mix-mingle, try to lead fellow musicians
But I'm driven by the competition then I start to dissin'
I'm trippin', like jack trippa I'm surrounded by broads
You think you get raw?(Come and knock on my door)
I'm not on a tour, if you wanna see me perform
Ya gotta come to my crib sit wit my kid on the floor
I'm dirty like an aids infested hypodermic needle
Gritty like the sand in the speedo of a fag gweedo
Grimy like a slimy reptiley creature
Even if I lost my speech, I would still beat'cha
Stumbling, and mumbling make ya words clearer
Ya strugglin' worse than Big Pun's Pallbearers
My rhymes are more grimy than ya grandma's ass
In the heat for three weeks without havin' a bath
And havin' attacks, of uncontrollable gas
Wit a mess in her Depends and grandpas nut blast
Step to me, I got them rhymes straight out the gutter
It's embaracin' like goin' to the mall wit cha mother
And ya handicapped father and ya retarded brotha
Why bother battlin' me go find anotha
Rhymes to steal tagged on the wall of a men's room stall
You a victim of Emcee Assault!
- quotes about disabilities
- quotes about ski
- quotes about rap
- quotes about music
- quotes about childhood
- quotes about shopping
- quotes about students
- quotes about performance
While I lay here
Staring my fate
Square into obscurity
Left with nothing but promises
Of forgotten grandeur
Leaving behind epic depths
Confusions, beyond credibility
A string of events one could not forsee
Refusal to uphold unrealistic
And idealistic states of abstraction
Thus bringing us lucid and coherent
Understandings of the truth
Perhaps revealing consummate contentment
No more resentments
Of past discontentment
These vast extents of torments
Preventing one from ascending
Into unending bliss
Where the unmerciful bind you
On Reading Of Racism In Ireland
I always feel disappointed when of racism I read
And when I read of it in Ireland I feel very sad indeed
For racism in society should never have a place
And people should never be judged on their colour or their race.
As the Land of saints and scholars Ireland was known Worldwide
And the Irish people suffered and their rights to them denied
But the Irish in their sense of fair play could take a certain pride
And for their human rights and liberty the sons of Ireland died.
Poor migrants from Romania their possessions weigh light
To live and work in Ireland do they not have the right?
They may come un-invited but their numbers only small
And the Irish too are migrants as history will recall.
I read it's the Irish media that fans racism's flame
If this be so of their bad work they must feel a great shame
They cannot say in years to come the fault was never ours
When they first used the noxious spray that poisoned all the flowers.
I am an Irish migrant far from my native shore
And others treat me with respect than that one could not ask for more
A fair go for all people and for everyone fair play
Those words from centuries ago are relevant today.
Seele Im Raum
It sat between my husband and my children.
A place was set for it—a plate of greens.
It had been there: I had seen it
But not somehow—but this was like a dream—
Not seen it so that I knew I saw it.
It was as if I could not know I saw it
Because I had never once in all my life
Not seen it. It was an eland.
An eland! That is why the children
Would ask my husband, for a joke, at Christmas:
“Father, is it Donner?” He would say, “No, Blitzen.”
It had been there always. Now we put silver
At its place at meals, fed it the same food
We ourselves ate, and said nothing. Many times
When it breathed heavily (when it had tried
A long useless time to speak) and reached to me
So that I touched it—of a different size
And order of being, like the live hard side
Of a horse’s neck when you pat the horse—
And looked with its great melting tearless eyes
Fringed with a few coarse wire-like lashes
Into my eyes, and whispered to me
So that my eyes turned backward in their sockets
And they said nothing—
I have known, when they said nothing,
That it did not exist. If they had heard
They could not have been silent. And yet they heard;
Heard many times what I have spoken
When it could no longer speak, but only breathe—
When I could no longer speak, but only breathe.
And, after some years, the others came
And took it from me—it was ill, they told me—
And cured it, they wrote me: my whole city
Sent me cards lilac-branches, mourning
As I had mourned—
and I was standing
By a grave in flowers, by dyed rolls of turf,
And a canvas marquee the last brown of earth.
It is over.
It is over so long that I begin to think
That it did not exist, that I have never—
And my son says, one morning, from the paper:
“An eland. Look, an eland!”
—It was so.
Today, in a German dictionary, I saw elend
And the heart in my breast turned over, it was—
It was a word one translates wretched.
It is as if someone remembered saying:
“This is an antimacassar that I grew from seed,”
And this were true.
One could not wish for anything more strange—
For anything more. And yet it wasn’t interesting ...
—It was worse than impossible, it was a joke.
And yet when it was, I was—
Even to think that I once thought
That I could see it to feel the sweat
Like needles at my hair-roots, I am blind
—It was not even a joke, not even a joke.
Yet how can I believe it? Or believe that I
Owned it, a husband, children? Is my voice the voice
Of that skin of being—of what owns, is owned
In honor or dishonor, that is borne and bears—
Or of that raw thing, the being inside it
That has neither a wife, a husband, nor a child
But goes at last as naked from this world
As it was born into it—
And the eland comes and grazes on its grave.
This is senseless?
Shall I make sense or shall I tell the truth?
Choose either—I cannot do both.
I tell myself that. And yet it is not so,
And what I say afterwards will not be so:
To be at all is to be wrong.
Being is being old
And saying, almost comfortably, across a table
from what I don’t know—
in a voice
Rich with a kind of longing satisfaction:
“To own an eland! That’s what I call life!”
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all
That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth,
(Since which I number threescore winters past,)
A shattered veteran, hollow-trunked perhaps,
As now, and with excoriate forks deform,
Relics of ages! Could a mind, imbued
With truth from heaven, created thing adore,
I might with reverence kneel, and worship thee.
It seems idolatry, with some excuse,
When our forefather Druids in their oaks
Imagined sanctity. The conscience, yet
Unpurified by an authentic act
Of amnesty, the meed of blood divine,
Loved not the light, but, gloomy, into gloom
Of thickest shades, like Adam after taste
Of fruit proscribed, as to a refuge, fled.
Thou wast a bauble once; a cup and ball,
Which babes might play with; and the thievish jay
Seeking her food, with ease might have purloined
The auburn nut that held thee, swallowing down
Thy yet close-folded latitude of boughs
And all thine embryo vastness at a gulp.
But Fate thy growth decreed; autumnal rains
Beneath thy parent tree mellowed the soil,
Designed thy cradle; and a skipping dear,
With pointed hoof dibbling the glebe, prepared
The soft receptacle, in which, secure,
Thy rudiments should sleep the winter through
So Fancy dreams. Disprove it, if ye can,
Ye reasoners broad awake, whose busy search
Of argument, employed too oft amiss,
Sifts half the pleasures of short life away!
Thou fell'st mature; and in the loamy clod
Swelling with vegetative force instinct
Did burst thine egg, as theirs the fabled Twins,
Now stars; two lobes, protruding, paired exact;
A leaf succeeded, and another leaf,
And, all the elements thy puny growth
Fostering propitious, thou becamest a twig.
Who lived when thou wast such? Oh, couldst thou speak
As in Dodona once thy kindred trees
Oracular, I would not curious ask
The future, best unknown, but at thy mouth
Inquisitive, the less ambiguous past.
By thee I might correct, erroneous oft,
The clock of history, facts and events
Timing more punctual, unrecorded facts
Recovering, and misstated setting right --
Desperate attempt, till trees shall speak again!
Time made thee what thou wast, king of the woods:
And Time hath made thee what thou art -- a cave
For owls to roost in. Once thy spreading boughs
O'erhung the champaign; and the numerous flocks,
That grazed it, stood beneath that ample cope
Uncrowded, yet safe-sheltered from the storm.
No flock frequents thee now. Thou hast outlived
Thy popularity, and art become
(Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing
Forgotten, as the foliage of thy youth.
While thus through all the stages thou hast pushed
Of treeship -- first a seedling, hid in grass;
Then twig; then sapling; and, as century rolled
Slow after century, a giant-bulk
Of girth enormous, with moss-cushioned root
Upheaved above the soil, and sides embossed
With prominent wens globose, -- till at last
The rottenness, which time is charged to inflict
On other mighty ones, found also thee.
What exhibitions various hath the world
Witnessed of mutability in all
That we account most durable below!
Change is the diet on which all subsist,
Created changeable, and change at last
Destroys them. Skies uncertain now the heat
Transmitting cloudless, and the solar beam
Now quenching in a boundless sea of clouds,--
Calm and alternate storm, moisture and drought,
Invigorate by turns the springs of life
In all that live, plant, animal, and man,
And in conclusion mar them. Nature's threads,
Fine passing thought, e'en in her coarsest works,
Delight in agitation, yet sustain,
The force, that agitates, not unimpaired;
But, worn by frequent impulse, to the cause
Of their best tone their dissolution owe.
Thought cannot spend itself, comparing still
The great and little of thy lot, thy growth
From almost nullity into a state
Of matchless grandeur, and declension thence,
Slow, into such magnificent decay.
Time was, when, settling on thy leaf, a fly
Could shake thee to the root -- and time has been
When tempests could not. At thy firmest age
Thou hadst within thy bole solid contents,
That might have ribbed the sides and planked the deck
Of some flagged admiral; and tortuous arms,
The shipwright's darling treasure, didst present
To the four-quartered winds, robust and bold,
Warped into tough knee-timber, many a load!
But the axe spared thee. In those thriftier days
Oaks fell not, hewn by thousands, to supply
The bottomless demands of contest, waged
For senatorial honours. Thus to Time
The task was left to whittle thee away
With his sly scythe, whose ever-nibbling edge,
Noiseless, an atom and an atom more
Disjoining from the rest, has, unobserved,
Achieved a labour, which had far and wide,
By man performed, made all the forest ring.
Embowelled now, and of thy ancient self
Possessing nought but the scooped rind, that seem
An huge throat, calling to the clouds for drink,
Which it would give in rivulets to thy root,
Thou temptest none, but rather much forbidd'st
The feller's toil, which thou couldst ill requite.
Yet is thy root sincere, sound as the rock,
A quarry of stout spurs, and knotted fangs,
Which, crooked into a thousand whimsies, clasp
The stubborn soil, and hold thee still erect.
So stands a kingdom, whose foundation yet
Fails not, in virtue and in wisdom laid,
Though all the superstructure, by the tooth
Pulverised of venality, a shell
Stands now, and semblance only of itself!
Thine arms have left thee. Winds have rent them off
Long since, and rovers of the forest wild
With bow and shaft, have burnt them. Some have left
A splintered stump, bleached to a snowy white;
And some, memorial none, where once they grew.
Yet life still lingers in thee, and puts forth
Proof not contemptible of what she can,
Even where death predominates. The spring
Finds thee not less alive to her sweet force,
Than yonder upstarts of the neighbouring wood
So much thy juniors, who their birth received
Half a millennium since the date of thine.
But since, although well qualified by age
To teach, no spirit dwells in thee, nor voice
May be expected from thee, seated here
On thy distorted root, with hearers none,
Or prompter, save the scene, I will perform
Myself the oracle, and will discourse
In my own ear such matter as I may.
One man alone, the father of us all,
Drew not his life from woman; never gazed,
With mute unconsciousness of what he saw,
On all around him; learned not by degrees,
Nor owed articulation to his ear;
But, moulded by his Maker into man
At once, upstood intelligent, surveyed
All creatures, with precision understood
Their purport, uses, properties, assigned
To each his name significant, and filled
With love and wisdom, rendered back to Heaven
In praise harmonious the first air he drew.
He was excused the penalties of dull
Minority. No tutor charged his hand
With the thought-tracing quill, or tasked his mind
With problems. History, not wanted yet,
Leaned on her elbow, watching Time, whose course
Eventful, should supply her with a theme.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
I'm in another place
My thoughts no longer
The memory of
Your smiling face
I am a woman lost
And all my dreams
On storms are tossed
I could not pay
For what it cost
I know I don't need you
To fill my life
I must be true
To what I know
And always knew
My life belongs to me
My soul is free
And I must feel
Content to be
If It Had Not Been For You
If it had not been for you...
I would not know joy like this.
Or know such happiness I have,
Could like this exist.
If it had not been for you.
So true this is!
As I think of those times,
Share between me and you.
With those memories I miss...
Never to ever could I just dismiss.
And if it had not been for you,
The weight of the world I'd still be holding.
I would get upset by the pettiness,
Of my own minor setbacks.
Brewing from a thoughtlessness.
I would later regret.
You taught me how to let 'go'...
Let live! And just 'let'.
If it had not been for you...
None of this would I be able to live through.
And if it had not been for you,
I could not walk forward...
Knowing I had attempted something tried,
I would hide and deny inside had failed!
You showed me I could and would prevail.
Even without you near as I wish...
I know if it had not been for you,
My life as it is lived now...
Would not be as rewarding as it is.
With a happiness that keeps me uplifted!
If it had not been for you,
To teach me to accept and enjoy...
All of my experiences.
And I do!
Knowing I couldn't.
If it had not been for you!
To show me whatever I wished...
It was up to me to pursue!
And I do!
And I do!
And I owe this feeling I have...to you!
In the discharge of the duties of this office, there is one rule of action more important than all others. It consists in never doing anything that someone else can do for you.
Listen to 'Da Art of Storytellin' Part 1' instrumental by Outkast
There once was a boy named Gary Napp
And Gary Napp was obsessed with rap
Day in, day out he'd be on his computer
Listenin' to Biggie, Nas, and Rick the Ruler
'Thinkin' one day I'll be a fly MC,
And everyone will want to listen to me.'
He worked on his lyric game day and night
But one day lil Gary got into a fight
Some punk teenager tried to clown his flavor
Gary swung on him and the dude pulled out a razor
The kid urged Gary to keep on swingin'
But Gary knew his life was more important than winnin'
Gary turned around and he started headin' home
The kid pulled out a nine and shot Gary in the dome
The punk teenager threw down the murder weapon
Heard the cops comin' so he started steppin'
The kid got away and was never put to trial
And ended up killin' himself after a while
He couldn't contain his feelings anymore
Couldn't do anything right, he was torn
But up above, Gary Napp forgave the kid
Rest in peace the greatest MC who never lived
When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,
And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,
Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,
'He was a man who used to notice such things'?
If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelid's soundless blink,
The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alight
Upon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,
'To him this must have been a familiar sight.'
If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,
When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,
One may say, 'He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,
But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.'
If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door,
Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees
Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more,
'He was one who had an eye for such mysteries'?
And will any say when my bell of quittance is heard in the gloom
And a crossing breeze cuts a pause in its outrollings,
Till they rise again, as they were a new bell's boom,
'He hears it not now, but used to notice such things'?
Peace is more important than all justice; and peace was not made for the sake of justice, but justice for the sake of peace.
On The Day That Pudsy Died
A cold fog from the mountain stole across the countryside
And cloaked the fields in greyness on the day that Pudsy died
She had survived many life's battles and she did not die easily
Like her I too must go the way of time whenever that will be.
Our dark brown cattle dog Pudsy to us devoted to the end
All of our family grieved for her she was a family friend
We buried her by our old home beside the cypress tree
And despite the passing of the years she lives in my memory.
More of a hunting than a cattle dog for fox and badger she went to ground
And she was the best fighting dog for miles and miles around
When challenged by another dog Pudsy never backed away
Though she never did start a fight that much of her one can say.
I watched her fighting many times and never see her beat
she was the champion fighting dog on our side of Millstreet
As a watchdog or a guard dog on her one could not depend
For Pudsy did love people she was everybody's friend.
A hairy rugged outdoor dog she did not mind it wet and cold
She even slept out in the rain though time had left her old
As an outdoor dog she lived and died and of her I can say
That she enjoyed the outdoor sort of life in her own happy way.
A cold fog stole down from the hill and cloaked the fields in gray
On the day our dark brown cattle dog old Pudsy passed away
Until the moment that she died as our friend she did remain
And often times in my memory I hunt with her again.
I Like To Think That You Are Much Better Than Myself, But...
you are years ahead
i like you to think that you are much better
in terms of compassion
knowledge had always been
younger than compassion
yet compassion is as meek
as it is not assertive
i like to think that you are much better
but you have not lived that much
you are never water to fire
never a tree to a bird
you have taken side with the ax
and the flint
there is so much blood around
the rocks are bathing
confusion flows to the sea
the rivers are willing victims
you put gasoline on chaos
and you dance around that big fire
i like to think that you are older and much better
but your hands have grown nails and splinters of glass
and like a hand grenade
you finally exploded and killed so many and
i like to think that i should have done better
you have nailed my feet on the floor and splinters wound my soles
You are only one
Why at all I need to understand that you are only one?
To take me to opposite shore is beyond the capacity any one
The days spent in ignorance are once for all gone
I know nothing about the remedy to be taken
I am sure sincere surrender will do some good
He is merciful and will take me out of wood
I shall not be selfish enough to warrant any intervention
I want secret blessings with or without any mention
You have done all what ever you could do for entire universe
Who knows where from you control allow no one to curse
Every one is satisfied with whatever they got or have
Only the have to take pledge to act honest and nicely behave
Nothing is likely to take place even if you disallow his existence
It will not be difficult for him but worsen situation at your insistence
We are not that supreme to stand up to the natural tragedies
He is powerful of all to take care and offer remedies
Even thousand of bulbs can not light part of the surface
It is beyond our strength and capability in any case
Not a blade of grass or leaves shake without His will
This impression must be borne in mind to think and fill
The rising tides come to a peaceful level
The high speed boats and huge ships easily travel
The wind favors to their onward journey and take to safety
This all happens with the blessings from the almighty
I am no exception and can not stand alone
No one may buy my idea and I shall remain single and one
It is not the strange like things but a simple reality
God is there and may remain so with all divine abilities
I wanted to refrain from passing any adverse comment
Such thing was troubling me with wrong movement
I was carried away with some sense of superiority
I had leaned into dark area with such kind of inferiority
What is a magic spell in your Name?
Whole world wants to come near and claim
Close proximity with all blessings
I consider it an end of the beginning
What if I have to gain whole world
But loose a soul in sequence and feel cold
No moral ground or authority to stand fast and hold
Give me lord enough of courage to face all as very bold
You Are The One I Been Looking For
Out of every guy is you
You answered all my questions that I couldn't do myself
You are angel come to save me from this broken road and
Lead me into right direction
You are the one I been looking for
You make me understand life
I feel so alive and free
I couldn't feel like this if it wasn't for you
I'm changing all the time because of you
I care about your opinion and what you think about me
You know I like you
I shouldn't have write on there
If I'm not going do anything about it
I never meant to hurt, make you jealous, and I was never mad at you
I was dumb for what I done to you and make you think different of me
You are different out of every guy in good way
I enjoy your laugh, jokes, smile, and goofy sides of you and who you are
You are the most wonderful person I ever meet
On negative side if worst that I have to deal with your friends think they know who I am
You want to found out about me and what your friends think about me
You want to test me, practice me in certain areas, and subjects
I get why, but I didn't realized at time
This was way different than I expect out of you
I am blushing and smiling around you
It's been long time
Everything is because of you
I can enjoy life, see how much I miss out, and have fun again for first time
I want to take risks, do things I never do before
No more sad songs or past
It's you I see now
You are the one I been looking for
I feel so bless to found you
Thank you for everything
You are always one person there to make me feel better when I'm in bad mood and
I start laughing and smile all because of you
When we smile at each other
I get all this sparks back and is was good moment
I just no way to approach you and this time is different
You have a face of famous person even if you are not one
I will not cry anymore if this doesn't work out
I know to let it go and learn from this
This is life and life is not fair
I get it and know better
I should realized what did I got myself in first place
If like this with you, how you feel about this situation, and
I put myself though something that end like this
There is nothing left to say
You are the one I been looking for
But...Don't You Think That's Stupid?
Unflattering and degrading comments to me made! ?
If I had not been raised prepared to receive them,
Or listen with intent to criticisms sent my way...
My strut would not have had such a focus with purpose.
Nor would I feel what I did m
Meant 'something' to get,
Enough attention to be mentioned.
'Why do you do what you do?
As if to have others believe you are a fool? '
What are you trying to do?
Ruin my reputation?
What makes you 'think'...
I am not doing the best I can,
To represent myself as one.
Don't you think that's stupid? '
Of course I do.
So what point are your trying to make?
You Are Everything
(thom bell, linda creed)
Today I saw somebody who looked just like you
She walked like you do I thought it was you
As she turned the corner I called out your name
I felt so ashamed but it wasnt you, wasnt you
You are everything and everything is you
You are everything and everything is you
Oh you are everything and everything is you
How can I forget when each face that I see
Brings back memories of being with you
I just cant go on livin life as I do
Comparing each girl to you
Knowing they just wont do, theyre not you
You are everything
Everything is you
Youre everything to me girl
I miss you baby
Everything is you
You are everything
Every little thing
Youre all Ive got
Girl, youre everything to me
You are everything and everything is you
Everything to me