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Every path serves a purpose.

quote by Gene Oliver
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Serves You Right

1st verse
La, da, da, da,
Oooh, oh.
You and I were so in love.
You were all I was thinkin of.
There was so much magic in your eyes.
Then one day you said we were through.
You said you found somebody new.
And then you turned and you walked right out the door.
Baby I told you his love wasnt true.
You didnt hear me, so now I say these words to you..
Chorus:
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Now you say youre sorry.
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Baby.
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Now you see whos sorry now.
Oooh, oh,oh.
2nd verse.
I remember you standin there, sayin to me you didnt care.
And I was begging baby, please dont go.
Now youre crying, telling me what went wrong.
Girl you stayed away too long,
Cant you see Ive got you off my mind.
(change)
Thinkinbout the pain that you put me through.
I cant help you-because it feels good telling you....
Chorus:
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Now you say youre sorry.
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Baby.
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.
Now you see whos sorry now.
Oooh, oh,oh.
(rap) see mama, what Im tryinto say.
To you is that, Im ,you know, I love ya,
But ya - yaa hurt me so bad, I cant take it no more girl,
I just cant take it, no.....hell no
No! no, no, I dont wanna hear it,
Dont say it anymore, dont talk
No more, Im tired of youre lyin,
Im tired of your cryin girl, tell
Me....dont tell me.
(change)
Thinkin bout the pain that you put me through,
I cant help you-because it feels good telling you....
Chorus:(repeat twice)
Serves you right for sayin good-bye.

[...] Read more

song performed by Lionel Richie
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Memory Pain

It serves me right to suffer
It serves me right to be alone
It serves me right to suffer
It serves me right to be alone
You see i'm living in the memory
Of a day that has passed and gone
Everytime i see a woman
You know it makes me think about mine
Everytime i see a woman
You know it makes me think about mine
You see i'm living in the memory
Of a woman i've left behind
It serves me right to suffer
It serves me right to be alone
It serves me right to suffer
It serves me right to be alone
Now i'm living in the memory
Of a woman that has passed and gone

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Path Of Least Resistance

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.

I'm on a path of least resistance,
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.

Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.
Oh!
Pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

Oh pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chaos, Order, Chaos, Beauty And Ugliness...

beauty must a purpose
have, for instance beauty that
gives peace and
harmony to the world,

presumably this world is a world of chaos,
and chaos is wanton
and understood to be messy and
undesirable, makes the mind
to lack the necessary focus

but what is focus for? what is thinking for?
again, you return to purpose
focus must have a purpose
and thinking must have another purpose

but what is the purpose of purpose?
seems that purpose is beauty
and that purpose without beauty is not desirable,

and so on and so forth,
people get so confused, they want order as though order itself is
beauty
as though it is one purpose that we need,

the universe must have an order
a system, every planet orbiting around the sun must have
a purpose
as though they are human beings like us
as though they are us

look at this poem, read it so well,
it has no purpose but to make you think
make you doubt

that perhaps beauty to be beauty must be wanton
and chaotic, which by itself is a reality
and reality is always
beautiful,
it has always a purpose and this is what you think it to be

right now, but is this really so?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Begin the Mending of Unreasoning

There is a purpose behind a reason,
That plots from a reasoning...
Its purpose.

She has been seducing him,
Since the beginning of their childhood.
She practiced technique with her daddy.
And daddy practiced patience and understanding.
She liked that about her daddy.

He was torn between Magic, Shaq and Kobe!
'Yeah, but that Michael will always be the best! '
He was a sportsman!
And she fell asleep in his lap!
Just like she did,
When daddy did that!

He thought he knew what he was getting into.
Until she wanted more of what he could not prove,
He could do.
So he screwed her that night...
And he left not to return.

There is a purpose behind a reason,
That plots from a reasoning...
Its purpose.

It did not take her long to realize,
She paralyzed their love!
She criticized his lovemaking acts.
And reacted as if he was not there at all.
Feelings had been among the missing,
For days...
In the forest of hidden misunderstandings.

With her face towards the wall...
Expecting him to communicate,
'Her' feelings he could not possibly feel!
She did not make them real to him!
She felt hurt!
And he was suppose to know!
Or at least pretended to care?
He snored loudly!

'Could romance be slipping from the booty calls? '
He thought as he was swept with anguish!
Thinking with sincere sentiments...
'She crazy as hell,
If she think I'm gonna try and 'be' Denzel.'

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Dainty Thing's The Villanelle

A DAINTY thing's the Villanelle,
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.

A double-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.

You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime--
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.

Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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Villanelle

A dainty thing's the Villanelle.
Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme,
It serves its purpose passing well.

A doublc-clappered silver bell
That must be made to clink in chime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And if you wish to flute a spell,
Or ask a meeting 'neath the lime,
It serves its purpose passing well.

You must not ask of it the swell
Of organs grandiose and sublime-
A dainty thing's the Villanelle;

And, filled with sweetness, as a shell
Is filled with sound, and launched in time,
It serves its purpose passing well.

Still fair to see and good to smell
As in the quaintness of its prime,
A dainty thing's the Villanelle,
It serves its purpose passing well.

poem by William Ernest Henley
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This Wheels On Fire

(dylan)
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire
If your memory serves you well
Were gonna meet again and wait
So Im gonna pack all my things
And sit there for it gets to late
No my ? ? ? will come to you
With another tale to tell
And you know that we shall meet again
If your memory serves you well
Wheels on fire
Rollin down the road
Lets notify my next of kin
This wheel shall explode
If your memory serves you well
I was gonna confiscate your lace
And wrap it up in a sailors knot
And hide it in your case
If I knew for sure that it was yours
But it was so hard to tell
And you know that we shall meet again
If your memory serves you well
Chorus
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire
If your memory serves you well
Youll remember youre the one
That called on me to call on them
To get your favours done
And after every ? ? ? I failed
And there was nothin more to tell
You knew that we should meet again
If your memory serves you well
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire
This wheels on fire

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

[...] Read more

poem by Virgil
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Karma Theory Of Islam

God has written down in brief
Our endless life story
That is being played
On the seven-storied stage of sky!
.
At the same time it’s also true:
We are the architects
Of our own future
Cause we get result of what we do!

However we’ll have the final result
Of our actions on the Day of Resurrection!

God acts according to plans
We should also plan our future
And try to make it happen.

Even God does not know everything
In absolute detail
And He doesn’t need to know it.
It is an endless story
Even God forgets some things
After zillions and zillions of years
That’s one of the reasons
Why God has written down every important matter
Be it big or small on Laohay Mahfuz.
Therefore we should also read and write
To preserve and spread our wisdom.

There are seventy thousand paths
That lead to paradise
For example
Path of Belief
Path of Truthfulness
Path of Remembrance of God
Path of Charity
Path of Salat
Path of Fasting
Path of Tax
Path of Hajj
And so on.
All the aforesaid paths are straight paths
That leads to respective gates of paradise!
In fact Pool Sirat has seventy thousand levels
All end at the respective gates of paradise!
The Gate of Faith of paradise is the biggest
And it is the must have access to paradise.

However
For a hassle-free journey to paradise

[...] Read more

poem by Asif Andalib
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Welcomed Into the Family of Comprehension

Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.

Everything has a reason.
Everything.
With a purpose to ponder.
And a place for that purpose,
To find reason at that time.
Everything has a reason.
Everything,
In a thinking mind!
Any thought adopted...
Is welcomed into the family,
Of comprehension.
And attempts to understand,
Is supported.

What hand reaching out to shake,
Does not support that?
What prolonged heartbreak,
Would stay wallowing in sorrow?
To borrow an excuse,
Or a chance not to view agony?
Close up and into a tear stained face.
You should not want that reflecting...
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!
Everywhere,
And in every face you see.
Denial is the most contagious disease!

No thing is detached,
That keeps an attraction from coming back.
Something is attached to that.
And seriously repeated.

When done,
The meaning of that purpose...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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This Wheels On Fire

If your memry serves you well,
We were goin to meet again and wait,
So Im goin to unpack all my things
And sit before it gets too late.
No man alive will come to you
With another tale to tell,
But you know that we shall meet again
If your memry serves you well.
This wheels on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode!
If your memry serves you well,
I was goin to confiscate your lace,
And wrap it up in a sailors knot
And hide it in your case.
If I knew for sure that it was yours . . .
But it was oh so hard to tell.
But you knew that we would meet again,
If your memry serves you well.
This wheels on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode!
If your memry serves you well,
Youll remember youre the one
That called on me to call on them
To get you your favors done.
And after evry plan had failed
And there was nothing more to tell,
You knew that we would meet again,
If your memry served you well.
This wheels on fire,
Rolling down the road,
Best notify my next of kin,
This wheel shall explode

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Lady of the Lake: Canto IV. - The Prophecy

I.
The rose is fairest when 't is budding new,
And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears;
The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew
And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears.
O wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears,
I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave,
Emblem of hope and love through future years!'
Thus spoke young Norman, heir of Armandave,
What time the sun arose on Vennachar's broad wave.

II.
Such fond conceit, half said, half sung,
Love prompted to the bridegroom's tongue.
All while he stripped the wild-rose spray,
His axe and bow beside him lay,
For on a pass 'twixt lake and wood
A wakeful sentinel he stood.
Hark!-on the rock a footstep rung,
And instant to his arms he sprung.
'Stand, or thou diest!-What, Malise?-soon
Art thou returned from Braes of Doune.
By thy keen step and glance I know,
Thou bring'st us tidings of the foe.'-
For while the Fiery Cross tried on,
On distant scout had Malise gone.-
'Where sleeps the Chief?' the henchman said.
'Apart, in yonder misty glade;
To his lone couch I'll be your guide.'-
Then called a slumberer by his side,
And stirred him with his slackened bow,-
'Up, up, Glentarkin! rouse thee, ho!
We seek the Chieftain; on the track
Keep eagle watch till I come back.'

III.
Together up the pass they sped:
'What of the foeman?' Norman said.-
'Varying reports from near and far;
This certain,-that a band of war
Has for two days been ready boune,
At prompt command to march from Doune;
King James the while, with princely powers,
Holds revelry in Stirling towers.
Soon will this dark and gathering cloud
Speak on our glens in thunder loud.
Inured to bide such bitter bout,
The warrior's plaid may bear it out;
But, Norman, how wilt thou provide
A shelter for thy bonny bride?''-

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Lifes path

There are so many paths in life
I guess I could say
I ve walked them all

The right path
The wrong path
The path of pain
The path of good
The path of bad

Which path do I now take
At this present time of life
The path I take is the path of pain.
The path of hurt

So many paths I have walked
But im lost in the path
The path of pain

Amy Kerswell

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Each Thing Of Life In Nature

Each thing of life in Nature has a duty to fulfil
In Spring the skylark leaves the ground and soars above the hill
'Tis hardly for the love of song that upwards he does fly
And carols his way upwards towards the gray clouds of the sky.

The red earth worm who lives in the ground sheltered from the sun, rain and storm
Though to us quite insignificant has a duty to perform
It aerates the surface soil which helps crops for to grow
To Nature's little earth worm respect we ought to show.

Each life form serves some purpose in Nature of which we are aware
The mouse the rat the lizard and the rabbit and the hare
Are preyed upon by predators the small by the bigger eat
For every herbivore born there's one born to eat meat.

In Nature every life form serves some purpose that's how it does seem to me
But with what i say I know too well that not all would agree
In Nature each life form serves some purpose from the great to the small
And that applies to human beings as well as things that swim, fly walk and crawl.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Find It. Your Purpose

Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.

It is difficult to be oneself,
And declare oneself to 'be'.
It is much easier to locate acceptance,
When approval from others...
Does not threaten,
A routine enjoyed with unchanged beliefs.

Find it.
Your purpose.
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Your purpose.

And once it is recognized...
Be prepared to be criticized.
Be prepared to be humble too...
When a strength felt opens your eyes.
But never be apologetic,
For those steps you make.
Moving forward has been known,
To cause many heartache.

But find it,
You must...
Your purpose.
And trust that it is...
Your purpose!

And...
Once it has been discovered,
Do not let it be undermined.
Once it has been discovered,
Your purpose...
Will open and broaden your mind.

Finding one's purpose,
Does this every time!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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God Viewed As Exclusive Property

Many people
seem to believe
that God is

the exclusive property

of only
their religion
their denomination

their exclusive property.

But is this true?

How do we test
this mindset
discrimination?

“And God loved the world so much
that he gave his only-begotten Son,
in order that everyone exercising
faith in him might not be destroyed
but have everlasting life.” John 3: 16

God’s Word is the exclusive authority.
God belongs to “everyone exercising
faith in him”. But for what purpose?

What is the reason, the purpose of God?

“And he proceeded to say to them: “To
You the sacred secret of the kingdom of
God as been given, but to those outside
all things occur in illustrations” Mark 4: 11

“Adonai made everything for its purpose, even
the wicked for the day of disaster” Proverbs 16: 4

But God works in mysterious ways,
therefore who can know his purpose?

Now “we now that God causes everything
to work together (cooperate) for the good
of those who love God and (who) are called
in accordance with his purpose” Romans 8: 28

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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