Citatepedia^®.com

Languages are true analytical methods.

quote by Antoine Lavoisier
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

New Language

Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
I speak from some sort of protection of learning
Even tho I make it up as I go on
A special trait is that Ive tried
To reach all feelings
So I speak a new language of love
Some say that it is written in the circle
Others that it is written in the sun
But I protect myself by seeing this experience
As a metaphor for moving on
Sometimes I check myself
To start to believe in
The horoscopes you read everyday
Theyre telling me somethings
I really ought to know
But then again I like to
Then again I learn to
Then again Im running away
Vision is coming so fast I cant stop myself
Vision forgets who is real
On the city streets, people get lost
Just waiting for history
Pushing the real world away
Taking a chance only once in your life
Only weakness can stop you from hearing
New languages
Translate each word
As they bring you creation
Your voice is the perfect key
Is there something that
Im supposed to see
Is there something that im
Supposed to feel
Im with you
And I cant help but want to know
(talk to me)
Is there something that Im supposed to teach
(speak to me)
Is there something that Im supposed to find
As I reach to the healing in each spoken word
For some strange reason time just cannot wait a minute
Im chasing every second before I let go
Yesterday my history
Dreams are still a mystery
This living is a gift I should know
Lay it down and let me live the new language
Let me learn at every twist every turn
Lay it down and let me love the further future
Let me know Im running
Let me know Im learning

[...] Read more

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

New Language

Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
I speak from some sort of protection of learning
Even tho I make it up as I go on
A special trait is that Ive tried
To reach all feelings
So I speak a new language of love
Some say that it is written in the circle
Others that it is written in the sun
But I protect myself by seeing this experience
As a metaphor for moving on
Sometimes I check myself
To start to believe in
The horoscopes you read everyday
Theyre telling me somethings
I really ought to know
But then again I like to
Then again I learn to
Then again Im running away
Vision is coming so fast I cant stop myself
Vision forgets who is real
On the city streets, people get lost
Just waiting for history
Pushing the real world away
Taking a chance only once in your life
Only weakness can stop you from hearing
New languages
Translate each word
As they bring you creation
Your voice is the perfect key
Is there something that
Im supposed to see
Is there something that im
Supposed to feel
Im with you
And I cant help but want to know
(talk to me)
Is there something that Im supposed to teach
(speak to me)
Is there something that Im supposed to find
As I reach to the healing in each spoken word
For some strange reason time just cannot wait a minute
Im chasing every second before I let go
Yesterday my history
Dreams are still a mystery
This living is a gift I should know
Lay it down and let me live the new language
Let me learn at every twist every turn
Lay it down and let me love the further future
Let me know Im running
Let me know Im learning

[...] Read more

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

What is a Friend?

True friends will never let each other down
True friends will tell each other when they are right or wrong
True friends listen to their problems without casting judgment
True friends are never afraid to tell you like it is

A true friend knows when to say no
A true friend will never flop you
A true friend will be supportive of all you do
A true friend will be there to dry your weeping eyes

A true friend will lend a shoulder for you to cry on
A true friend cares how you are doing
A true friend cares about your day-to-day life
A true friend always calls and checks up on you

A true friend gives of himself/herself without asking for anything in return
A true friend would not lend you money but give you whatever they can
A true friend may argue, fuss, and fight with you but will always be there for you
A true friend forgives you for your shortcomings

A true friend will come to your aid no matter what time of day it is
A true friend doesn’t wait to hear from you to make the first call
A true friend just calls to chitchat with you
A true friend is like a Godsend in times of perils

A true friend is always welcoming
A true would give you the coat off their backs
A true friend knows enough is enough
A true friend will be by your side when you need them the most

A true friend will run an intercept or blockage for you
True friends will CYA for each other
True friends knows that this world wasn’t promised to us
True friends make the best of a bad situation

True friends keeps each others secretes
True friends keeps no secretes from one another
True friends share each other’s lives
A true friend is forever

Are you a true friend?
Ask yourself that question
Can you be a true friend?
Do you deserve a good friend?

There are no goodbyes in life, just hellos

Hello friend

poem by Wilfred Mellers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Albatross Draggers

Sad are the grabbers dragging,
An albatross displayed.
As a familiar routine...
Meant to be seen daily on the scene.
Yet flavored in dismay,
With a bitterness each day.

Typical and analytical are they,
To be living to be gimmicked.
And be living in such limits.
And...
Typical and analytical are they,
To be living to be gimmicked.
And be living in such limits.

Sad are the grabbers dragging,
An albatross displayed.
As a familiar routine...
Meant to be seen daily on the scene.
Yet flavored in dismay,
With a bitterness each day.

And...
Typical and analytical are they,
To be living to be gimmicked.
And be living in such limits.

Those albatross draggers,
Hoping sadness they will pass.
And...
Typical and analytical are they,
To be living to be gimmicked.
And be living in such limits.

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

The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Apocrypha Of William O'Shaunessy: Book I, XVI

In the time of the great emergency Enobius, the Emperor of the Palmyran legions, was banished beyond the Ister on the charge of necromancy. Yet it is well known that, rather than contacting the dead, he was simply a man haunted by the future. “Wherever I go,” he lamented, “I see only the future.” The turning point happened on a day of unprecedented calm throughout the empire. On the battlements of a fortress on the Illyrian coast he heard angelic spirits reciting in a voice louder than all human voices long intolerably harsh lines of verse which he knew were being dictated to a poet who was to pace these same battlements over a thousand years in the future. Enobius heard only part of the angelic speech but knew that the poet of the future likewise heard only a small part. And there does not exist any one time, he found himself saying, when all the fragments of the angels can be heard simultaneously. This lack of simultaneity haunted and tormented him. He came to suspect that every true utterance slipped between the ghost future he sensed all around him and the physical future that would come. After this revelation in the Illyrian fortress, wherever he went he began to secrete notes in hiding places in the several languages he knew and whatever other languages he could master, foretelling what the whispered voices around him were saying. Yet despair overtook him as he fell under the conviction that all the languages of his world would vanish before the future could arrive. A tormented and wearied man, his one hope, he said, was death – in death, he said, he might at last be released into the limitless blessing of the past.

(Diogenes Caserius, The Deeds of the Neglected Emperors)

Footnote: Much of Enobius’s best work was lost as a result of his relentless habit of writing in as many languages as possible – most of these tongues now long since forgotten. Among the papyri in various libraries in Alexandria and Cairo are fragments thought to be in crypto-Dacian, early Numidean, mezzo-Akkanite and the secret language of Ur. In the last year of his life Enobius wrote the poem that begins “In which of my languages will I die?” but was then overwhelmed by the conviction that someone in the future was writing the same poem but with some teasing slight variation. In despair he wrote “Everything I write plagiarizes the future.”

(Dr Antoine Leme12:08 23/07/2007surier, assistant curator, The Secret Library Trust of Lower Egypt, 1855)

poem by Peter Boyle
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Scars

Reality sucks, too much pain
I cant explain why I wanna bash brains
Still I can see it on the other side
Got a new baby, wanna stay alive
Give what I give, give what I got
Make it worth while, cause I got another shot
Broken families that always got pain
I break the chain, refuse to be the same
Mother-did as good as you could
After all the abuse I still understood
Three times divorced, and three times a kid
Gave us more love than our father ever did
Now weve all grown and moved along
Tried to forget, but my brother did me wrong
But its real hard to put it all behind me
Its like a tattoo frozen in a memory
I cant seem to erase the stain
In my brain, things will never be the same
I remember all the lies, f__ked up, now I realize
Never had a chance as a kid, I was a man
Fight after fight wasnt really what I planned
Father!
Whoever you are
Beat my mother down, all I see is scars
And memories - what about me?
Throw me through a window for watching tv
Where did I get this anger?
Where did I get this hate?
And where did I get my temper?
Now Im gonna show my faith
(huh) never will I be like you, be like you
F__ked up, that sh_t - Im staying true
My family, true to my family
Im true to my family
True to my family
Stay true
True to my family
Stay true, stay true
True to my family
Stay true
True to my family
Stay true, stay true
True to my family
True
True to my family
Stay true, stay true
True to my family
Stay true
True to my family
Stay true, stay true

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanilla Ice
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

The Knight and Squire resolve, at once,
The one the other to renounce.
They both approach the Lady's Bower;
The Squire t'inform, the Knight to woo her.
She treats them with a Masquerade,
By Furies and Hobgoblins made;
From which the Squire conveys the Knight,
And steals him from himself, by Night.

'Tis true, no lover has that pow'r
T' enforce a desperate amour,
As he that has two strings t' his bow,
And burns for love and money too;
For then he's brave and resolute,
Disdains to render in his suit,
Has all his flames and raptures double,
And hangs or drowns with half the trouble,
While those who sillily pursue,
The simple, downright way, and true,
Make as unlucky applications,
And steer against the stream their passions.
Some forge their mistresses of stars,
And when the ladies prove averse,
And more untoward to be won
Than by CALIGULA the Moon,
Cry out upon the stars, for doing
Ill offices to cross their wooing;
When only by themselves they're hindred,
For trusting those they made her kindred;
And still, the harsher and hide-bounder
The damsels prove, become the fonder.
For what mad lover ever dy'd
To gain a soft and gentle bride?
Or for a lady tender-hearted,
In purling streams or hemp departed?
Leap'd headlong int' Elysium,
Through th' windows of a dazzling room?
But for some cross, ill-natur'd dame,
The am'rous fly burnt in his flame.
This to the Knight could be no news,
With all mankind so much in use;
Who therefore took the wiser course,
To make the most of his amours,
Resolv'd to try all sorts of ways,
As follows in due time and place

No sooner was the bloody fight,
Between the Wizard, and the Knight,

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

True Love

(mansfield/oneill/palmer)
If Im not mistaken
My whole universe was shaken when I fell for you
Coz all the stars collided when I held you in my arms
I knew you were the one
I was searching for perfection babe
But love is the exception that proves all the rules
Theres a sensuality that only you have shown to me
That steals my breath away
And by the way baby
If theres something that I care about its true love
And no matter where you are, you are my true love
And I thank the lucky stars above for true love
There was never any doubt about it
True love
(and its you love)
Total satisfaction - irresistible attraction
I got no excuse
I live in anticipation of your unforeseen temptations
What you gonna do?
I dont have an explanation
Youre the only invitation I cannot refuse
And handsome is as handsome does
And you win hands down baby doll
You got it nailed
And by the way baby
It dont matter where you are, you are my true love
There was never any doubt about it
True love
And I thank the lucky stars above for true love
If theres one thing I cant live without
Its true love
(and its you love)
If Im not mistaken
My whole universe was shaken when I fell for you
Coz all the stars collided when I held you in my arms
I knew you were the one
And by the way baby
If theres something that I care about its true love
And no matter where you are, you are my true love
And I thank the lucky stars above for true love
There was never any doubt about it
True love
All the tragedy and irony of true love
All the agony and ecstacy of true love
It dont matter where you are, you are my true love
There was never any doubt about it
True love
It dont matter where you are, you are my true love
There was never any doubt about it

[...] Read more

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

What Makes A True Friend?

What are the qualities that a friend should
have – that which would make a true friend so true?
A friend is one whom you like to be with
while a true friend insists on being with you.

A friend likes you when you have so much in
common. True friends like you who for who you are.
True friends make you feel as though they are at
all times near, although they are very far.

A true friend is one whom you can always
talk to, even at night when it is late -
when loved ones are asleep, a true friend is
always there to hear what you have to say.

Friends like to share, but a true friend always
gives you – not what you want, but what you need.
The feelings you hide, as well as your thoughts,
and your dreams, a true friend can always read.

A friend may forgive you or they may not
forgive, for something wrong you've done to them.
A true friend forgives even when you don't
ask. True friends forgive - again and again.

Friends are close when you are close to them. A
true friend wants your friendship to be closer.
A true friend does what is best for you, and
hates that you would end up with the losers.

A true friend teaches you lessons to help
you grow – lessons that are hard and easy.
A true friend is always there - having a
true friend can never make you feel lonely.

Friends may sometimes make mistakes, but a true
friend is always careful not to hurt you.
A true friend is a guide and a teacher.
A true friend knows everything you go through.

The true friend I mention is our God,
who kept you company before you were born.
The friendship of God, if you truly keep
and cherish, you will never feel forlorn.

The true friend we all need is God (Allah) –
the One who guides and can teach us lessons,
the One who hears our calls and understands,
the One always near – in every season –

[...] Read more

poem by Miriam Mababaya
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto I

THE ARGUMENT

Sir Hudibras his passing worth,
The manner how he sallied forth;
His arms and equipage are shown;
His horse's virtues, and his own.
Th' adventure of the bear and fiddle
Is sung, but breaks off in the middle.

When civil dudgeon a first grew high,
And men fell out they knew not why?
When hard words, jealousies, and fears,
Set folks together by the ears,
And made them fight, like mad or drunk,
For Dame Religion, as for punk;
Whose honesty they all durst swear for,
Though not a man of them knew wherefore:
When Gospel-Trumpeter, surrounded
With long-ear'd rout, to battle sounded,
And pulpit, drum ecclesiastick,
Was beat with fist, instead of a stick;
Then did Sir Knight abandon dwelling,
And out he rode a colonelling.
A wight he was, whose very sight wou'd
Entitle him Mirror of Knighthood;
That never bent his stubborn knee
To any thing but Chivalry;
Nor put up blow, but that which laid
Right worshipful on shoulder-blade;
Chief of domestic knights and errant,
Either for cartel or for warrant;
Great on the bench, great in the saddle,
That could as well bind o'er, as swaddle;
Mighty he was at both of these,
And styl'd of war, as well as peace.
(So some rats, of amphibious nature,
Are either for the land or water).
But here our authors make a doubt
Whether he were more wise, or stout:
Some hold the one, and some the other;
But howsoe'er they make a pother,
The diff'rence was so small, his brain
Outweigh'd his rage but half a grain;
Which made some take him for a tool
That knaves do work with, call'd a fool,
And offer to lay wagers that
As MONTAIGNE, playing with his cat,
Complains she thought him but an ass,
Much more she wou'd Sir HUDIBRAS;

[...] Read more

poem by Samuel Butler
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

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

Set Into Motion

Methods of discrediting,
For the purpose to diminish one's influence...
Aren't methods easily detected,
But nonetheless applied as reminders.

I remember the first time I was told I was a 'minority'.
And I guess I reacted as if unaffected.
Because it seemed as if it became someone's duty,
To imply my life was restricted to limitations.

And when I scoffed at this...
That's when insults and blatant disrespect began.
Everyone I knew got into the act!

People taught their children to be disgusting.
Even thinking them cute when they began to cuss.
And...
I prepared myself for little Johnnie to say something to me.
Something derogatory.
'please don't let that little boy be that crazy.
Please Father God,
Remove images I should not have out of my mind.'

Visions of sitting in prison...
Locked behind bars for the rest of my life,
Kept me from smacking the hell out of Johnnie.

When it becamed noticeable I was being provoked...
I took deep breaths.
Or choked from smoking too many cigarettes.
Something to maintain a self control.
Or disguised as one.

Gender benders became the rage.
And if someone was not weird or strange...
Lesbian or homosexual,
By Sunset?
It was a bet to be won they were going to be pegged,
As 'something' or someone freaky.
And the following day,
Confirmations were all over the place.
Of course. I exaggerate.
But that's the way it seemed.

And folks wonder why today is so crazed.
I don't!
This was set into motion!

Now people today who thought
Having 'things' would give them reason for living...

[...] Read more

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

The Men And The Women Of The World

When Brahma created human out of lotus,
When the Father created human out of soil,
When the Gods given birth human and mountains,
WE, the human, were let alone naked.

Unpredictable weather,
torturous terrain,
fiercely flowing water,
monstrous animals and birds.

First sign languages,
then spoken languages,
after that written languages,
and now we have thousands of languages.

Who taught us all these?
Have the religions known these?
Hindu's world ended at Himalayas,
Jew's world ended at the rivers.

The love of the fathers,
The love of the mothers,
The love of the siblings.
The love of the relatives,
The love of the community,
The love to have life on earth,
have made it possible and
we will make it to continue.

Happy valentine's day
to each and every one of you.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Can't Be True

(Dolly Parton)
I can't be true no matter what I do
It's a weakness of mine, nothin' to do with you
So don't expect it of me though I expect it of you
I love you, I do, but I can't be true
Men are my weakness I've got a roving eye
And I've fallen victim to many a smile
I just love the excitement of love when it's new
I'm just a hopeless romantic so I can't be true, I can't be true
I can't be true no matter what I do
It's a weakness of mine, nothin' to do with you
So don't expect it of me though I expect it of you
I love you, I do, but I can't be true, I can't be true
Some play it safe while some like it hot
I guess you could say I never knew when to stop
But when I'm lovin' you, I'll give it all that I got
It might be different with you to know I can't be true
I can't be true no matter what I do
Oh I get around, and I break all of the rules
Now that you know it's true, I'll leave the rest up to you
I'll be good to you, but I can't be true, I can't be true
I can't be true no matter what I do
It's a weakness of mine, its not a weakness in you
So don't expect it of me though I expect it of you
I really love you, I do, but I can't be true, I can't be true
I can't be true no matter what I do
Oh I get around, and I break all of the rules
Now that you know it's true, I'll leave the rest up to you
I'll be good to you, but I can't be true, I can't be true

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

True beauty

True beauty is in the way she laughs
True beauty is in her eyes
True beauty is how she acts
True beauty is inside
True beauty is unseen
True beauty is only felt
True beauty is not mean
True beauty is herself
True beauty can't be cruel
True beauty is bare
True beauty within you
True beauty is always there
True Beauty can't be covered with makeup
True beauty means true love
True beauty can't be baked up
True beauty is the flight of a dove
True beauty has no flaws
For True beauty is all that matters after all

all rights reserved to Jean Melanie Pullman

poem by Jean Pullman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

What's In Your Heart

True beauty is in the way she laughs
True beauty is in her eyes
True beauty is how she acts
True beauty is inside
True beauty is unseen
True beauty is only felt
True beauty is not mean
True beauty is herself
True beauty can't be cruel
True beauty is bare
True beauty lies within you
True beauty is always there
True Beauty can't be covered with makeup
True beauty means true love
True beauty can't be baked up
True beauty is the flight of a dove
True beauty has no flaws
For True beauty is all that matters after all

poem by Ricky Baker
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!