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Ramon Eder

Boredom is a discomfort which arises from the absence of pain.

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Ordinary Pain

When by the phone
In vain you sit
You very soon in your mind realize that its not just
An ordinary pain in your heart
When you by chance
Go knock on her door
Walkin away youre convinced that its much more
Than just an ordinary pain in your heart
Its more than just
An ordinary pain in your heart
When you catch up
But she says goodbye
Hold back your tears and before you start to cry
Say you feel unnecessary pain in your heart
Tell her youre glad
Its over in fact
Can she take with her the pain she brought you back
Takin that ordinary pain from your heart
Its more than just
An ordinary pain from your heart
Dont fool yourself
But tell no one else
That its more than just
An ordinary pain
In your heart
In your heart
In your heart
Part ii
Youre just a masachistic fool
Because you knew my love was cruel
You never listened when they said
Dont let that girl go to your head
But like a play boy you said no
Or*di*nary pain
This little girl mind you will blow
Or*di*nary pain
But then I blew you out the box
Or*di*nary pain
When I put my stuff on key and lock
Or*di*nary pain
It makes me feel kind of sick
Or*di*nary pain
To know love put you in a trick
Or*di*nary pain
I knew our love would have to end
Or*di*nary pain
The day I made it with your friend
Or*di*nary pain
Giving your love to one unreal
Or*di*nary pain

[...] Read more

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Pain Pain by cedrick dennis

Pain Pain over here pain over there Pain in my heart pain in my soul Pain in my mind Pain in my skin pain in my bones Pain being caused left and right Pain being caused till the heart bleeds red Pain being caused till the skin and bone rip Pain being caused till you break into tears Pain at school Pain at home Pain in my head, pain in my heart Pain in my mind, pain in my soul Pain happening in my sleep Pain happening in my thoughts Pain happening when I’m alone Pain happening in the shower, in my room, in my bed, in my house where I’m all alone Pain happening every hour, every minute, every second of my life Pain caused by anger and hate Pain caused by hurt Pain caused by greed Pain caused by sorrow and depression Pain caused by grief and confusion Pain caused by your family and friends Pain caused by the world Pain caused by people you love Pain driving me crazy Causing me to take pills till it fills up my veins I go to sleep never to wake up and see that light The light that will end my pain for good

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I Am A Cliche

I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom

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I Am A Cliche

I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche I am a cliche
I am a cliche you've seen before
I am a cliche that lives next door
I am a cliche you know what I mean
I am a cliche pink is obscene
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom
Yama yama yama yama yama yama
Boredom boredom boring boredom

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Courtship of Miles Standish, The

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted

[...] Read more

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Purple Pain-A Parody

Inspired by Barny the purple dinosaur

Parody of Prince's song Purple Rain


Purple pain
You were always meant I know
To cause me sorrow
You were always meant I know
To make me wanna bleed my own blood and gouge out my eyes
You were always meant I know
To cause me pain
Now all I ever want
Since I saw you on my tv screen is for you
You damm purple pain to drown
In the purple rain


Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain


I only want to see you drowning in the purple rain
Oh you damm purple pain


I never wanted my kids to love you
I only thought of you as some kind of fiend
Barney, I could never stand you for another minute
So my television now I must turn off
Even through I know it would make my babies cry
It's such a shame that your lifetime has't come to a end
Oh, oh yes it is


Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain
Purple pain


I only wanted to see you drown
You damm purple pain
In the purple rain

[...] Read more

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Pain for you

This pain is for you
Many things I believe for you is pain
I dont want any pain from you but I accepted your pain
I'll take the pain from you forever

Pain can be your own mistake
pain can lead to your own troubles
pain can lead to anything inside of you
you just need to get some help
you need some assistances to get you out of the pain

Many pains cannot be removed
many can stay forever and ever
many think pain isnt nothing for them
pain is everything you learn from outside world

you may get it someday
someday you will see what I learn from pain
you can see me with cuts on my arms
that was pain, everything I want is pain

Love is pain too you know
you left me alone in the outside world
pain is getting inside of me, not letting me go
I'm alone in the darkness of shadows

This pain is for you
Many things I believe for you is pain
I dont want any pain from you but I accepted your pain
I'll take the pain from you forever

This pain is everything painful has it is
ready for everything is to be done for you
I'll be ready for everyone's pain
Every shadows of darkness is there inside of me
tearing me apart to learn from you and the people

So I'll take everyone's pain away
so you can tell me about your pain and
forever pure

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Pain - The Inside Story

Have you seen pain?
No you cannot see.
No you cannot feel.
Only the one who is suffering!
He can see pain.

All you can see is the tears from his eyes.
All you listen, his shivering scream and cries.

You just becomes witness and pray to God.
Still nothing happens and you become sad.

Pain comes to your near or dear.
Brings us more closer to your dear.
Pain comes to any neighbor or stranger.
You close your eyes and then who care.

Transform your pain into creativity.
Transform your pain into spirituality.
Then pain becomes your emotions.
This will cure all your tensions.

Let it flow from heart, instead of body.
Let it flow from soul as your creativity.
- Like words flowing as poetry.
- Like colors flowing as painting.
Then whole world seems changing.
You can see the change in geometry.

The last secret of pain is yet to tell.
Pain is heaven and also pain is hell.
Pain is north pole, pain is south pole.
In our life pain plays an important role.

Pain are two opposite shores of happiness.
One is the beginning other is the end.
One is the Sunset other is the sunrise.
One brings light other brings darkness.

Pain is reaction of our actions.
Pain is results of our 'Karmas.'
What wrong we do, pain is the byproduct.
What right we do still pain is the byproduct.
In first case pain is stored.
In final case pain is released.

Eat chilly for first time, see the pain of belly.
When chilly is released again see the pain of belly.
See the pain when you get cramp.
See the pain when you release the cramp.

[...] Read more

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Keeping Up Appearances

Darkness appears to be the absence of light
but absence of darkness is not light.
Misery appears to be the absence of happiness
but absence of misery is not happiness.

Isolation appears to be the absence of love
but absence of isolation is not love.
Ignorance appears to be the absence of knowledge
but absence of ignorance is not knowledge.

Being what we are simply means
coming out of what appears to be.
But being what we are cannot be dependant
on coming out of something we are not.

We have always been and will always be
what we are.
So, we are realised but
we don’t realise it yet?
Until we come out of what we are not
which is only an appearance.

There is a lot to this keeping up of appearances
and no effort in simply being…………
And ego said
“Whatever. What’s for lunch”

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Gone To Forget To Leave

There are those who may choose to die.
For whatever reason...
Eyes are wanting to feel,
A realness and not a friction to absorb.
When platters of gold filled deceit,
Offer nothing else to be fed....
With a side order of sincerity seen,
Or felt to mention.

'Gone to forget to leave'

And the feasting of this is encouraged.

Until dishonesty is all that one dreads.
With a wish to numb the head,
From the stirrings that occur from truths.
And although the eating of deceit weakens,
On a daily basis when that addiction eats...
A cry goes unheard.
A sickening overwhelms...
And,
A wish to be released from it increases.

'Gone to forget to leave'

An encouraged emotionally abandoned mind...
Feeds until the peace of eternal rest has come,
Of what is wished.
And with a consciousness,
Desperately wanting transistion now a mission...
But never accepted to come from one so...
Talented and gifted!

But hurting from a place...
No one took the time to touch to get to know,
And so much pain was inside hiding.

And what was known to God,
Has joined the stars awaiting.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.

And what was known to God,
Has joined...
With the others worthy.

Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.

And what was known,

[...] Read more

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This Pain Is For You

Many things I believe for you is pain
I don't want any pain from you but I accept your pain
I'll take the pain from you forever...

Pain can be our own mistake
Pain can lead to our own troubles
Pain can lead to anything inside of us
I just need to get some help
I need you to acknowledge me to help me out of this pain

Many pains cannot be removed
Many can stay forever and ever
Many think pain isn't nothing for them
Pain is everything we learn from the outside world

You may get it someday
Someday you will see what I learn from pain
You may see me with cuts on my arms
That was pain, but this pain is what I feel inside

Love is pain too you know
Thinking about you when you probably just don't care
Pain is getting inside of me, not letting me go
I'm alone in the darkness of shadows

This pain is for you
Many things I believe for you is pain
I don't want any pain from you but I accept your pain
I'll take the pain from you forever

This pain is everything painful has it is,
Ready for everything is to be done for you
I'll be ready for your pain
Every shadows of darkness is there inside of me
Tearing me apart too, but still I hunger you

So I'll take whatever I get and even thou it may pain, I'll treasure it
Please acknowledge me, tell me about your pain and
Forever pure.

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Pain Is My Friend

pain is my only gain,
pain is my friend,
pain so deep and cold,
i feel at home with the dark pain,

i love pain pain is my friend,
pain will bring back my love,
pain will give me life once again,
pain so deep and cold,
is the only way i can have,
my love and my friend,

pain is the worlds friend,
pain shows us if we do wrong,
pain shows us who we are,
pain is not only in the dark,
but in the light as well,

pain is so deep and cunning,
pain can show me who i am,
pain shows the world who we are,
pain is my only friend,


with out love theres pain,
with out anyone theres pain,
with out the sun with out the moon,
theres pain so as you can see,
pain is with us and always will be,
pain will never leave its a marriage,

its a soul and a part of you,
that will never leave,
pain is my friend and it is your too....

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The Pain I Can Control

The pain I can control
The pain that makes me whole
The pain that stops and brings some tears
The pain that erases all my fears
The pain that I inflict with this knife
The pain that might be last in my life
The pain that brought me to my knees
The pain that woahed me full of pleas
The pain that made me see the light
The pain that is bringing me home tonight
The pain that is wrong and bitter
The pain that makes me feel fitter
The pain that my friends say is wrong
The pain that makes me feel so strong
The pain that makes my friend sad, and cry
The pain that makes her want to die
The pain thats not just pain to me
The pain that makes everyone see
The pain that thats tearing me apart
The pain thats ripping apart my heart
The pain that I'm addicted to
The pain I can't give up. Not even for you..

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In Memory Of The Unknown Poet, Robert Boardman Vaughn

But the essential advantage for a poet is not, to have a beautiful world with which to deal: it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.
T. S. ELIOT


It was his story. It would always be his story.
It followed him; it overtook him finally—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.


Probably at the end he was not yet sorry,
Even as the boots were brutalizing him in the alley.
It was his story. It would always be his story,


Blown on a blue horn, full of sound and fury,
But signifying, O signifying magnificently
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.


I picture the snow as falling without hurry
To cover the cobbles and the toppled ashcans completely.
It was his story. It would always be his story.


Lately he had wandered between St. Mark’s Place and the Bowery,
Already half a spirit, mumbling and muttering sadly.
O the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.


All done now. But I remember the fiery
Hypnotic eye and the raised voice blazing with poetry.
It was his story and would always be his story—
The boredom, and the horror, and the glory.

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Reach us back safe and in tact

Nice to know you will be back

It did not strike me
When you left
That there would be a vacuum around

I did not mark earlier
That you were filling up
Lot many things in our life

And I do not know
Whether such a gap and shallowness
Would be created
If I happen to leave

When you are nearby
Your worth goes unnoticed
And when you are not there

It did not take much time
For me to realize that
Everything around me
Was only you
And as you leave
Everything disappears

It was much longer
Than what time units say
And it was really tough and testing
For me to manage and
Live with your absence

How nice to know
You will soon be back

It has already started
Showing up that
You are there
With everything around
Brightening up and waiting for
Your magic touch which
Helps them glitter

Winds cooled down to greet you
On your arrival
Sun is less harsh
Clear night sky
Holds a bright moon
That spews additional chillness
To the already cool night

[...] Read more

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Pain is a plenty harried thing

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too is in plentiful pain.
Pain too prays for reprieve from the Lord,
It too wishes for a merciful end;
Pain has pained itself with the painful realization,
That it is the root of the cause of the source of all pain;
That is why pain is a plenty harried thing,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too hopes that the morrow starts at leisure
And that maybe it could rise (one day) from within itself
And become its prodigal brother: Pleasure.
We blame pain, we hate pain but we all go seeking it,
Pain doesn’t stalk us, we stalk pain;
If it wasn’t for us, Pain would yet be an unknown hermit,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

Pain is a plenty harried thing,
It too gazes into the stars and watches the days go by without reform;
Pain grieves for the pain it feels deep inside,
Pain too struggles against exploit and harm.
Pain is the seedling of the plant of the tree,
Of Life, which is nothing without this pain;
And I do not crave Pain and it does not crave me,
For it too is in plentiful pain.

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An Abc Of Inner Peace

inner peace: a to z (© Raj Arumugam, September 2008)

Inner peace is effortless, as it’s always there within.
One just has to see it.

And once one truly sees this inner peace – not with words or just
intellectually, but actually see this inner peace within – it is one’s, always;
no one takes away that…

Nothing and no evil and no violent force or even the most difficult
of circumstances in one’s life can remove that inner peace that one
sees within; but let one see this not as a word, or as a phrase
but as an actuality.

Feel that peace, see that inner peace and let it radiate always – for it is
the harmony within each and it is always one’s own.


A


Let amity be your constant companion….Be at peace with all beings, equally at peace with those near and those far, and thus walk hand in hand with amity as in a bounteous garden…





B


Be mindful of your blessings always…To be alive, to breathe in fresh air;
and to be with the family and the companionship of good fellow-human
beings; and the kindness of strangers; and the creatures of this world
and the flowers that bloom, and to have a place in this marvelous planet
of ours….all these too are blessings….

There is a life of the body in the domain of the physical, and
the legitimate needs of the body are just as important as
one’s inner needs…

[...] Read more

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Over With A Revolver

It's already over.
Revolver in hand so steady.
Oh my god I'm so ready.
All I can see a bulls eye right above your head.
Trust me when I say your dead.
Snuff out before you even know what's going on.
An absence of all emotion.

Closure too so many traumatic events.
From the mountain into the great valley is the descent.
The weight is so heavy.
Yet I'm still dragging it.
Sooner or latter we all have let it go.
And this time it is all I know.

It's already over.
Revolver in hand so steady.
Oh my god I'm so ready.
All I can see a bulls eye right above your head.
Trust me when I say your dead.
Snuff out before you even know what's going on.
An absence of all emotion.

Such devotion has been through such a roller coaster ride.
An ocean tells me secrets of making a disposal.
Time to get rid of the time when you made your proposal.
An identity I must hide.
Let smoke and mirrors reflect the biggest lie.
An illusion within the eyes.

It's already over.
It's already over.
Oh my god it's already over.
Revolver in hand so steady.
Oh my god I'm so ready.
All I can see a bulls eye right above your head.
Trust me when I say your dead.
Snuff out before you even know what's going on.
An absence of all emotion.

I blame no one.
I blame everyone.
A fault can not be defined by a single event.
An preposterous idea that it was something that you could prevent.
The poison was already in my system.
It spoke in demon tongues.
A evil energy already breathing among the living.
My heart was already gone.

It's already over.

[...] Read more

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foRgivEnEss..

it is hard to forgive those people
who let you feel anger, pain
and discomfort...

it is the feeling or thing that you
can feel when your anger, pain
and discomfort were gone if you
have overcome them already....

It is a voice in your inner part of
your heart and soul that will help you
overcome those anger, pain and
discomfort....

No matter hard it is to give,
there is still a part of you that can help
make you easy to give to those people...

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Charles Baudelaire

La Muse Vénale (The Venal Muse)

Ô muse de mon coeur, amante des palais,
Auras-tu, quand Janvier lâchera ses Borées,
Durant les noirs ennuis des neigeuses soirées,
Un tison pour chauffer tes deux pieds violets?

Ranimeras-tu donc tes épaules marbrées
Aux nocturnes rayons qui percent les volets?
Sentant ta bourse à sec autant que ton palais
Récolteras-tu l'or des voûtes azurées?

II te faut, pour gagner ton pain de chaque soir,
Comme un enfant de choeur, jouer de l'encensoir,
Chanter des Te Deum auxquels tu ne crois guère,

Ou, saltimbanque à jeun, étaler tes appas
Et ton rire trempé de pleurs qu'on ne voit pas,
Pour faire épanouir la rate du vulgaire.


The Venal Muse

Muse of my heart, you who love palaces,
When January frees his north winds, will you have,
During the black ennui of snowy evenings,
An ember to warm your two feet blue with cold?

Will you bring the warmth back to your mottled shoulders,
With the nocturnal beams that pass through the shutters?
Knowing that your purse is as dry as your palate,
Will you harvest the gold of the blue, vaulted sky?

To earn your daily bread you are obliged
To swing the censer like an altar boy,
And to sing Te Deums in which you don't believe,

Or, hungry mountebank, to put up for sale your charm,
Your laughter wet with tears which people do not see,
To make the vulgar herd shake with laughter.


— Translated by William Aggeler


The Venal Muse

Muse of my heart, of palaces the lover,
Where will you, when the blast of winter blows
In the black boredom of snowed lights, discover
A glowing brand to warm your violet toes?

[...] Read more

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