Citatepedia^®.com

Since His delights are to be with you, let yours be found in Him.

quote by Alphonsus Liguori
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Garden Of Earthly Delights

Kid,
Stay and snip your cord off,
Talk and let your mind loose,
Cant all think like chekov,
But youll be o.k.
Kid,
Is this your first time here?
Some cant stand the beauty,
So they cut off one ear,
But youll be o.k.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
And the big rewards here,
In the garden of earthly delights.
Kid,
Pick up with another,
Some will even drop you,
But hearts are built like rubber,
So youll be alright.
Kid,
Swallow but believe us,
You wont die of boredom,
Should you have to leave us,
Itll be alright.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
less of course they ask you,
In the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
less of course they ask you,
In the garden of earthly delights

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

Garden Of Earthly Delights

Kid,
Stay and snip your cord off,
Talk and let your mind loose,
Cant all think like chekov,
But youll be o.k.
Kid,
Is this your first time here?
Some cant stand the beauty,
So they cut off one ear,
But youll be o.k.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
And the big rewards here,
In the garden of earthly delights.
Kid,
Pick up with another,
Some will even drop you,
But hearts are built like rubber,
So youll be alright.
Kid,
Swallow but believe us,
You wont die of boredom,
Should you have to leave us,
Itll be alright.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
less of course they ask you,
In the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
Welcome to the garden of earthly delights.
Welcome to a billion arabian nights.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
This is your life and you spend it all.
This is your life and you do what you want to do,
Just dont hurt nobody,
less of course they ask you,
In the garden of earthly delights

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

The Delights of Mathematics

It seems a hundred years or more
Since I, with note-book, ink and pen,
In cap and gown, first trod the floor
Which I have often trod since then;
Yet well do I remember when
With fifty other fond fanatics,
I sought delights beyond my ken,
The deep delights of Mathematics.

I knew that two and two made four,
I felt that five times two were ten,
But, as for all profounder lore,
The robin redbreast or the wren,
The sparrow, whether cock or hen,
Knew quite as much about Quadratics,
Was less confused by x and n,
The deep delights of Mathematics.

The Asses' Bridge I passed not o'er,
I floundered in the noisome fen
Which lies behind it and before;
I wandered in the gloomy glen
Where Surds and Factors have their den.
But when I saw the pit of Statics,
I said Good-bye, Farewell, Amen!
The deep delights of Mathematics.

O Bejants! blessed, beardless men,
Who strive with Euclid in your attics,
For worlds I would not taste again
The deep delights of Mathematics.

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Amazing Grace

'Live, live with me, and thou shalt see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.'
So Robert Herrick's poetry
has written yet his words may be
as nought compared to all that's poured
in soul-song here for my adored.

'Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
Or woods or steepy mountain yield.' -
Though Marlowe's maid as hand and glove
swain fain would fit her heart to move,
his verse is but an empty shield
compared to all I'd have revealed.

'But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.'
Thus Walter Raleigh mocks, shortsold,
the love whose span cannot be told
no empty write I'd write, hymn's hum -
no strings save mandolin to strum.

'For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait,
That fish, that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.'
John Donne declaimed - admire his feat -
as none could e'er exaggerate
your angel wings, your beauty's eye,
your heart whose depth none chart, your sigh!

'Care on thy maiden brow shall put
A wreath of wrinkles, and thy foot
Be shod with pain: not silken dress
But toil shall tire thy loveliness.'
Day-Lewis says, - bride's white turns soot
with high ideals crushed underfoot -
yet my heart feel the years' duress
must only add to happiness.

'Come, live with us and be our cook,
And we will all the whimsies brook
That German, Irish, Swede, and Slav
And all the dear domestics have.'
Says F.P.A. - beyond my book

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Delights Of Beauty

Delights Of Beauty'
Red painted lips
Eyes of deep brown
Your black flowing hair
How you paint the town
Delights Of Beauty
Pretty floral dress
With sultry looking smile
Your way of walking
Down to your very style
Delights Of Beauty

poem by Suelynn Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Virgils Gnat

Wrong'd, yet not daring to expresse my paine,
To you (great Lord) the causer of my care,
In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine
Vnto yourselfe, that onely priuie are:
But if that any Oedipus vnware
Shall chaunce, through power of some diuining spright,
To reade the secrete of this riddle rare,
And know the purporte of my euill plight,
Let him rest pleased with his owne insight,
Ne further seeke to glose vpon the text:
For griefe enough it is to grieued wight
To feele his fault, and not be further vext.
But what so by my selfe may not be showen,
May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen.

We now haue playde (Augustus) wantonly,
Tuning our song vnto a tender Muse,
And like a cobweb weauing slenderly,
Haue onely playde: let thus much then excuse
This Gnats small Poeme, that th' whole history
Is but a jest, though envie it abuse:
But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame,
Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name.

Hereafter, when as season more secure
Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee
In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure,
And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie,
The golden offspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great Ioues progenie,
Phoebus shall be the author of my song,
Playing on iuorie harp with siluer strong.

He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood
Of Poets Prince, whether he woon beside
Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimæras blood;
Or in the woods of Astery abide;
Or whereas mount Parnasse, the Muses brood,
Doth his broad forhead like two hornes diuide,
And the sweete waues of sounding Castaly
With liquid foote doth slide downe easily.

Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee
Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades,
Go too, and dauncing all in companie,
Adorne that God: and thou holie Pales,
To whome the honest care of husbandrie
Returneth by continuall successe,
Haue care for to pursue his footing light;

[...] Read more

poem by Edmund Spenser
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Hero And Leander. The Third Sestiad

New light gives new directions, fortunes new,
To fashion our endeavours that ensue.
More harsh, at least more hard, more grave and high
Our subject runs, and our stern Muse must fly.
Love's edge is taken off, and that light flame,
Those thoughts, joys, longings, that before became
High unexperienc'd blood, and maids' sharp plights,
Must now grow staid, and censure the delights,
That, being enjoy'd, ask judgment; now we praise,
As having parted: evenings crown the days.
And now, ye wanton Loves, and young Desires,
Pied Vanity, the mint of strange attires,
Ye lisping Flatteries, and obsequious Glances,
Relentful Musics, and attractive Dances,
And you detested Charms constraining love!
Shun love's stoln sports by that these lovers prove.
By this, the sovereign of heaven's golden fires,
And young Leander, lord of his desires,
Together from their lovers' arms arose:
Leander into Hellespontus throws
His Hero-handled body, whose delight
Made him disdain each other epithite.
And as amidst th' enamour'd waves he swims,
The god of gold of purpose gilt his limbs,
That, this word _gilt_ including double sense,
The double guilt of his incontinence
Might be express'd, that had no stay t' employ
The treasure which the love-god let him joy
In his dear Hero, with such sacred thrift
As had beseem'd so sanctified a gift;
But, like a greedy vulgar prodigal,
Would on the stock dispend, and rudely fall,
Before his time, to that unblessed blessing
Which, for lust's plague, doth perish with possessing:
Joy graven in sense, like snow in water, wasts:
Without preserve of virtue, nothing lasts.
What man is he, that with a wealthy eye
Enjoys a beauty richer than the sky,
Through whose white skin, softer than soundest sleep,
With damask eyes the ruby blood doth peep,
And runs in branches through her azure veins,
Whose mixture and first fire his love attains;
Whose both hands limit both love's deities,
And sweeten human thoughts like Paradise;
Whose disposition silken is and kind,
Directed with an earth-exempted mind;--
Who thinks not heaven with such a love is given?
And who, like earth, would spend that dower of heaven,
With rank desire to joy it all at first?
What simply kills our hunger, quencheth thirst,

[...] Read more

poem by George Chapman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Come Dance with Me - Parody Christopher Marlowe - Come Live with Me and be My Love

Come dance with me and find release,
howl to the moon, with wild wolves run,
no nightmares now as heart finds peace, -
a stellar future crowned with fun
shall underwrite harvest increase
two reap together, story spun
from morn to night as worries cease,
while one and one at last make one.

Come dance we'll circumnavigate
the seven seas as zephyr’s breeze
anticipates and may translate
past cares to luck which soul strings frees.
Harp, Terpsichore shall play as Fate
unwinds past phantom_mime banshees,
life’s letter stamps ‘reciprocate’
inventing new realities.

Come dance with me, unlearn life’s woe
owe only to your inner voice
as chivalry and honour flow -
no need to justify your choice.
Slow motion – Time stood still – will throw
away wait’s weights as both rejoice
in unexpected overthrow
of anchors as trim sails we hoist.

Come dance with me, no strings attached –
except of harp or violin -
devotion, eloquence unmatched,
will shed all lies of ties that sin.
Thus inner doors may be unlatched,
as new dimensions open in
embracing wave which saves unscratched
soul stirred from hibernation’s bin.

Come dance with me, endearing smile
will echo caring, sharing, joy,
while Lara’s theme will reconcile
true love to trust, no wiles employ.
Tiara crowned Princess no guile
may meet who, sweet, greets verse employ
as an expression timed to dial
away Time’s hands all else destroy.

Come dance with me, no judgment blind
will claim, will, blame, will shame, reject, -
all icicles soon left behind
Spring’s robin sings you’re soul elect.

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Duplicated Dandelion Diversity

what is a dandelion?
upon examination
a mini map mystery
wind reproductive diversity

multiple magnificent
miniaturized flowers
many tiny flight flower arrows
arranged symmetry reality

each tiny flower perceives
forms composite flower head
hundreds of yellow florets
upper layers raised to sky

butter cup yellow bright light
flower heart warms inflorescence
lower layers enlarge spread
curve down bow in symmetry

bright yellow bewitches souls
set off in contrast rich green grass
delights hearts walking grass blades
delights hearts walking green imagery

leaves form a rosette above central taproot
yellow to orange coloured flower heads spread
open in ray stream daytime close sleep night
flower heads mature spherical clocks spy

soon host birth transformations
real flowers wax dandelion blooms
each single flower head floret prepares
each seed stem attached white threads fluffy

cypselae on dandelion clock ticks
matured capitulum await breezes winds
to disperse in wind seed birth rights
hair-like calyx tissue waits above each ovary

each tiny flower has produced a seed
white spectral seed head manifests
design wonder delights child hands
dimensional layers link preflight mystery

seeds produce asexually by apomixes
where without pollination are produced seeds
offspring identical to the parent plants
resulting in offspring identical genetically

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Gust Cotton Seed Wind Snows

dandelion remain herald mystic envoys
empire expand into new territories
honour all seed dispersed ruderals
who restore beauty to poor wastes
where once was barren life emerges
ruderals rapidly colonize wastelands
dandelion colour paint disturbed soils
yellow orange canopy veils delights

poet in appreciation walk restored fields
dandelion bright yellow bewitches souls
set off hues contrast in rich green grass
delights hearts soft walking grass blades
delights hearts walking nature's hue skins
surfaces stretch into infinite possibilities

even after flowering is finished smiles
dandelion flower head multiple rebirths
for entombed day or two flower head dries
is this husk death as fall off petals stamens?
miracles move bracts reflex curve backwards
into full sphere tiny parachute ball opens
expand lift ready seed-bearing parachutes
feathered leaves now cotton seed wind snows

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Pleasures of Melancholy

Mother of musings, Contemplation sage,
Whose grotto stands upon the topmost rock
Of Teneriffe; 'mid the tempestuous night,
On which, in calmest meditation held,
Thou hear'st with howling winds the beating rain
And drifting hail descend; or if the skies
Unclouded shine, and through the blue serene
Pale Cynthia rolls her silver-axled car,
Whence gazing steadfast on the spangled vault
Raptured thou sitt'st, while murmurs indistinct
Of distant billows soothe thy pensive ear
With hoarse and hollow sounds; secure, self-blest,
There oft thou listen´st to the wild uproar
Of fleets encount´ring, that in whispers low
Ascends the rocky summit, where thou dwell´st
Remote from man, conversing with the spheres!
O, lead me, queen sublime, to solemn glooms
Congenial with my soul; to cheerless shades,
To ruin´d seats, to twilight cells and bowers,
Where thoughtful Melancholy loves to muse
Her favorite midnight haunts. The laughing scenes
Of purple Spring, where all the wanton train
Of Smiles and Graces seem to lead the dance
In sportive round, while from their hands they shower
Ambrosial blooms and flowers, no longer charm;
Tempe, no more I court thy balmy breeze,
Adieu green vales! Ye broider´d meads, adieu!
Beneath yon ruin'd abbey's moss-grown piles
Oft let me sit, at twilight hour of eve,
Where through some western window the pale moon
Pours her long-levell'd rule of streaming light;
While sullen sacred silence reigns around,
Save the lone screech-owl's note, who builds his bower
Amid the mould'ring caverns dark and damp,
Or the calm breeze, that rustles in the leaves
Of flaunting ivy, that with mantle green
Invests some wasted tower. Or let me tread
Its neighb'ring walk of pines, where mus'd of old
The cloister'd brothers : thro' the gloomy void
That far extends beneath their ample arch
As on I pace, religious horror wraps
My soul in dread repose. But when the world
Is clad in Midnight's raven-colour'd robe,
'Mid hollow charnel let me watch the flame
Of taper dim, shedding a livid glare
O'er the wan heaps; while airy voices talk
Along the glimm'ring walls; or ghostly shape
At distance seen, invites with beck'ning hand
My lonesome steps, thro' the far-winding vaults.
Nor undelightful is the solemn noon

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Warton Jr.
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Task: Book IV. -- The Winter Evening

Hark! ‘tis the twanging horn o’er yonder bridge,
That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright;—
He comes, the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter’d boots, strapp’d waist, and frozen locks;
News from all nations lumbering at his back.
True to his charge, the close-pack’d load behind,
Yet, careless what he brings, his one concern
Is to conduct it to the destined inn,
And, having dropp’d the expected bag, pass on.
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch,
Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some;
To him indifferent whether grief or joy.
Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks,
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet
With tears, that trickled down the writer’s cheeks
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill,
Or charged with amorous sighs of absent swains,
Or nymphs responsive, equally affect
His horse and him, unconscious of them all.
But O the important budget! usher’d in
With such heart-shaking music, who can say
What are its tidings? have our troops awaked?
Or do they still, as if with opium drugg’d,
Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave?
Is India free? and does she wear her plumed
And jewell’d turban with a smile of peace,
Or do we grind her still? The grand debate,
The popular harangue, the tart reply,
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit,
And the loud laugh—I long to know them all;
I burn to set the imprison’d wranglers free,
And give them voice and utterance once again.

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Not such his evening, who with shining face
Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeezed
And bored with elbow points through both his sides,
Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage:
Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb,
And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath
Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage,
Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles.

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tirocinium; or, a Review of Schools

It is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace,
That man, the master of this globe, derives
His right of empire over all that lives.
That form, indeed, the associate of a mind
Vast in its powers, ethereal in its kind,
That form, the labour of Almighty skill,
Framed for the service of a freeborn will,
Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control,
But borrows all its grandeur from the soul.
Hers is the state, the splendour, and the throne,
An intellectual kingdom, all her own.
For her the memory fills her ample page
With truths pour’d down from every distant age;
For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more;
Though laden, not encumber’d with her spoil;
Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil;
When copiously supplied, then most enlarged;
Still to be fed, and not to be surcharged.
For her the Fancy, roving unconfined,
The present muse of every pensive mind,
Works magic wonders, adds a brighter hue
To Nature’s scenes than Nature ever knew.
At her command winds rise and waters roar,
Again she lays them slumbering on the shore;
With flower and fruit the wilderness supplies,
Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise.
For her the Judgment, umpire in the strife
That Grace and Nature have to wage through life,
Quick-sighted arbiter of good and ill,
Appointed sage preceptor to the Will,
Condemns, approves, and, with a faithful voice,
Guides the decision of a doubtful choice.
Why did the fiat of a God give birth
To yon fair Sun and his attendant Earth?
And, when descending he resigns the skies,
Why takes the gentler Moon her turn to rise,
Whom Ocean feels through all his countless waves,
And owns her power on every shore he laves?
Why do the seasons still enrich the year,
Fruitful and young as in their first career?
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze:
Summer in haste the thriving charge receives
Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves,
Till Autumn’s fiercer heats and plenteous dews
Dye them at last in all their glowing hues.—
‘Twere wild profusion all, and bootless waste,
Power misemploy’d, munificence misplaced,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

A Day At Tivoli - Prologue

Fair blows the breeze—depart—depart—
And tread with me th' Italian shore;
And feed thy soul with glorious art;
And drink again of classic lore.
Nor sometime shalt thou deem it wrong,
When not in mood too gravely wise,
At idle length to lie along,
And quaff a bliss from bluest skies.

Or, pleased more pensive joy to woo,
At twilight eve, by ruin grey,
Muse o'er the generations, who
Have passed, as we must pass, away.
Or mark o'er olive tree and vine
Steep towns uphung; to win from them
Some thought of Southern Palestine;
Some dream of old Jerusalem.

Come, Pilgrim-Friend! At last our sun outbreaks,
And chases, one by one, dawn's lingering flakes.
Come, Pilgrim-Friend! and downward let us rove
(Thy long-vow'd vow) this old Tiburtian grove.
See where, beneath, the jocund runnels play,
All cheerly brighten'd in the brightening day.
E'en in the far-off years when Flaccus wrote,
('Tis here, I ween, no pedantry to quote,)
Thus led, they gurgled thro' those orchard-bowers
To feed the herb—the fruitage—and the flowers.

Come, then, and snatch Occasion; transient boon!
And sliding into Future all too soon.
That Future's self possession just as brief,
And stolen, soon as given, by Time—the Thief.
Well! if such filching knave we needs must meet,
Let us, as best we may, the Cheater cheat;
And, since the Then, the Now, will flit so fast,
Look back, and lengthen life into the Past.

That Past is here; where old Tiburtus found
Mere mountain-brow, and fenc'd with walls around;
And for his wearied Argives reared a home
Long ere yon seven proud hills had dream'd of Rome.
'Tis here, amid these patriarch olive trees,
Which Flaccus saw, or ancestry of these;
Oft musing, as he slowly strayed him past,
How here his quiet age should close at last.

And here behold them, still! Like ancient seers
They stand; the dwellers of a thousand years.
Deep-furrow'd, strangely crook'd, and ashy-grey,

[...] Read more

poem by John Kenyon
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The scientist does not study nature because it is useful; he studies it because he delights in it, and he delights in it because it is beautiful.

quote by Henri Poincare
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Material Band Aids

society teaches materialism
as a band aid for tired souls
material delights new promise
sparkling but fade to normality
provide lease short term happiness...

but cannot address
our true spiritual needs
our hunger for love
understanding knowledge
God the universe all creation

society teaches materialism
as a band aid for the soul
material delights lust allure
may plead purchase swiftly
enticing packaged new sparkling...

poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Chocolate

Iam in love with chocolate

This rich dark intruder

This demon tantaliser of the tastebud

Its aroma consumes my senses

Its aura dissolves all reason

Its soft delights flirts upon my tongue

Devours me with one bite

And I submit and sink

Within this sepia 'whirpool'

Of epicurean delights!

I am in love with chocolate

I am consumed by my chivalrous 'Dark Knight'

Yvette m smith feb 09

poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

She Keeps On Coming

(b, r & m gibb)
Front and centre
I dont know how it happened then
I cant explain it
What was she thinking of when
Mother nature
She put us both together, and
The way she touched me
And I ran that red light and so i
Said I love her
She tell me I dont matter
I try to kiss her
But every dream is shattered
No early warning
Except the morning after
Look in the mirror like a rabbit in the headlights
She keeps on coming back for more
She keeps on coming back for more
She keeps on coming back for more
Champagne and roses
Breakfast in bed
Wrapped in each other
And out of my head
She keeps on coming back for more
She keeps on coming back for more
Oh no
Oh no
Yeah
Oh no
She aint no cleopatra
I aint no julius caesar
I aint no casanova
She aint no mona lisa
She charm a nation
She send you out to die
And we were flying when she ran that red light
I aint no valentino
She aint no greta garbo
No aphrodite
Ill never be apollo
But when we come together
Theres no one else can follow
Theres no tomorrow when we run that red light
She keeps on coming back for more
She keeps on coming back for more
She keeps on knocking at the door
Drunk on desire
Erotic delights
Sooner or later, shell kiss you goodnight
She keeps on coming back for more

[...] Read more

song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Song For America

Virgin land of forest green
Dark and stormy plain
Here all life abounds
Sunlit valley, mountain fields
Unseen in the rain
Here all life abounds
No man rules this land
No human hand has soiled this paradise
Waiting patiently
So much to see
So rich in Earth's delights
Painted desert, sequined sky
Stars that fill the night
Here all life abounds
Rivers flowing to the sea
Sunshine pure and bright
Here all life abounds
No man rules this land
No human hand has soiled this paradise
Waiting patiently
So much to see
So rich in Earth's delights
So the maiden lies in waiting
Pull the sailor into shore
Land of beauty and abundance
Innocent, you opened wide your door
Wanderers found the waiting treasure
Full of gifts beyond their measure
Milk and Honey for our pleasure
Across the sea there came a multitude
Sailing ships upon the wave
Filled with visions of Utopia
And the freedom that they crave
Ravage, plunder, see no wonder
Rape and kill and tear asunder
Chop the forest, plow it under
Highways scar the mountainside
Buildings to the sky
People all around
Unsustaining in these roads
See an eternity
People all around
So we rule this land
And here we stand
Upon our paradise
Dreaming of a place
Our weary race
Is ready to arise

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