I love the sun and the moon and the stars.
I love raindrops on a cloudy day in fall.
I love the beaming smile of a newborn boy.
I love the scowl from a hateful, old woman.
I love swear words that emanate from a homeless drunk.
I love the fulfillment of a dream.
I love the destroying and shattering of hope.
I love the people who kneel and pray that one day peace will come.
I love the man who flies the plane that drop bombs on innocent people.
I love the crooked cops that torture and beat illegal immigrants.
I love the mother who softly reads a story to help her child to sleep.
I love the man who stands up and speaks out firmly against injustice.
I love the Cuban Socialist Revolutionaries and their plans for takeover.
I love the American Government Officials that take as much as they can get.
I love that Jesus Christ was flogged and put up on a cross.
I love that Jesus Christ let himself be flogged and put up on a cross.
I love the married couple that has made it to the silver anniversary.
I love al-Qaeda and Osama Bin Laden.
I love the smell of green grass on a fresh summer day.
I love that we all get to live even if just for a moment.
I love that we all have to die and that we don’t know when.
I love George W. Bush.
I love the sodomist who rapes and kills and I love his victim who cries for help.
I love the woman who will refuse evil no matter what the consequences.
I love the young man who is completely heartbroken.
I love the cold winter days and the thick white snow.
I love Adolf Hitler and the Nazi’s.
I love the Blacks and the Jews.
I love the sight of the woods with trees all budding green in spring.
I love the honest priest who offers forgiveness and compassion to all.
I love the angry priest that tells us we are going to hell.
I love the Buddhist who lights himself on fire as protest.
I love the Truth in all its complicated magnitude.
I love the world as One, in its entirety, in its enormously disordered state.
I love love.
It is all that I know to be certainly right.
I love its universal beauty.
I pray that forever I can have it alone as my only offering.
Prayer For Love
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George.Wright
- Posts: 1874
- Joined: Mon Jul 08, 2002 3:37 pm
- Location: Bangor, N.Ireland
what a poem!
If people would live like you described in your poem....I think we could all live in happiness.
Does your loving of bad things mean that you accept them?
I'm wondering about one thing...
"I love the beaming smile of a newborn boy."
i think i heard somewhere that children cannot smile until they are a couple of months old. I have no sources to look it up but i'd be interested to find out if newborn babies can smile or not. If anybody can tell me, please do
I don't know it this line is true or not but i still like it
I can imagine it happening
If people would live like you described in your poem....I think we could all live in happiness.
Does your loving of bad things mean that you accept them?
I'm wondering about one thing...
"I love the beaming smile of a newborn boy."
i think i heard somewhere that children cannot smile until they are a couple of months old. I have no sources to look it up but i'd be interested to find out if newborn babies can smile or not. If anybody can tell me, please do
I don't know it this line is true or not but i still like it
I can imagine it happeningGreta~
I think Jmflash has indicated his view before, re: 'love the sinner, not the sin / hate the sin not the sinner'. "Newborn" can be figurative, also; we can be 'newborn' at any age; or simply a 'baby', i.e. 'new' to the world -- by a few months. (A newborn actually "beams" from within.)
Love,
~Makera
I think Jmflash has indicated his view before, re: 'love the sinner, not the sin / hate the sin not the sinner'. "Newborn" can be figurative, also; we can be 'newborn' at any age; or simply a 'baby', i.e. 'new' to the world -- by a few months. (A newborn actually "beams" from within.)
Love,
~Makera
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Byron
- Posts: 3171
- Joined: Tue Nov 26, 2002 3:01 pm
- Location: Mad House, Eating Tablets, Cereals, Jam, Marmalade and HONEY, with Albert
Greta, the smile of a newborn child is the grimace, or face, that it pulls, because it has 'wind.' It uses nearly all of the same muscles we use to smile with. Just imagine that you have constipation and you will realise that you will make the same face as the newborn child. 
Byron 'sends his regards.'
Byron 'sends his regards.'
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
Vesuvius~
I'm surprised at you! What is LOVE, if not God?; and if God then it is ultimate JUSTICE: Truth, Power, All-That-Is; the beginning and cause of the Universe! Anyone who can begin to glimpse such a concept by feeling a glimmer of compassion for all, is already halfway there.
....Or, What You Will.
~Makera
I'm surprised at you! What is LOVE, if not God?; and if God then it is ultimate JUSTICE: Truth, Power, All-That-Is; the beginning and cause of the Universe! Anyone who can begin to glimpse such a concept by feeling a glimmer of compassion for all, is already halfway there.
....Or, What You Will.
~Makera
Good question, Linmag .
Makera ~ I understand what you're saying/getting at, and I agree. I also understand what Vesuvius is saying/getting at. I'm caught in the ambivalence zone. I try and sometimes manage where others can't [the sexual abuse cases were assigned to me because I was able to work compassionately with the offender, and in more common matters, simply not holding grudges]. I try and sometimes cannot manage where others can [loving the extremes that jm presented here, including George Bush]. It's the reason that books that deal with people like Corrie ten Boom and Anne Frank have been best-sellers. We recognize the inherent wisdom of love and forgiveness. Truly living through them, wholly, in our lives, tends to be a different matter. Hate the sin, not the sinner seems really what it's all about. As I said, I haven't yet fully conquered the challenge, and internalized all applications of these great precepts/Truths.
~ Elizabeth
.Makera ~ I understand what you're saying/getting at, and I agree. I also understand what Vesuvius is saying/getting at. I'm caught in the ambivalence zone. I try and sometimes manage where others can't [the sexual abuse cases were assigned to me because I was able to work compassionately with the offender, and in more common matters, simply not holding grudges]. I try and sometimes cannot manage where others can [loving the extremes that jm presented here, including George Bush]. It's the reason that books that deal with people like Corrie ten Boom and Anne Frank have been best-sellers. We recognize the inherent wisdom of love and forgiveness. Truly living through them, wholly, in our lives, tends to be a different matter. Hate the sin, not the sinner seems really what it's all about. As I said, I haven't yet fully conquered the challenge, and internalized all applications of these great precepts/Truths.
~ Elizabeth
This has some similarity (or should i say anti-similarity) in style - obviously not substance - to the monologue delivered by the character Montgomery Brogan (played by Oscar nominated Edward Norton) in the movie 25th hour. The whole movie is about the last day of freedom spent by Montgomery Brogan before being sent to jail for 7 years. He is out partying with friends but he is obviously edgy and delivers this long monologue to himself in front of the bathroom mirror. He pretty much takes aim at every institution, ethnic group before turning his attention to his friends, father and finally to himself. Be warned: every line starts with a 4 letter word but remember the guy on his last night of freedom.
Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.
Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English?
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from!
Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds!
Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Inclone! Adelphia! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their palmaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Armani scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart!
Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on!
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin Otisville, Jay!
Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Alqueda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal, Irish ass!
Fuck Jacob Elinski, whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Naturelle Rivera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar. Sipping on club soda, selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place.
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all and then you threw it away, you dumb fuck!
Fuck me? Fuck you! Fuck you and this whole city and everyone in it.
Fuck the panhandlers, grubbing for money, and smiling at me behind my back.
Fuck squeegee men dirtying up the clean windshield of my car. Get a fucking job!
Fuck the Sikhs and the Pakistanis bombing down the avenues in decrepit cabs, curry steaming out their pores and stinking up my day. Terrorists in fucking training. Slow the fuck down!
Fuck the Chelsea boys with their waxed chests and pumped up biceps. Going down on each other in my parks and on my piers, jingling their dicks on my Channel 35.
Fuck the Korean grocers with their pyramids of overpriced fruit and their tulips and roses wrapped in plastic. Ten years in the country, still no speaky English?
Fuck the Russians in Brighton Beach. Mobster thugs sitting in cafés, sipping tea in little glasses, sugar cubes between their teeth. Wheelin' and dealin' and schemin'. Go back where you fucking came from!
Fuck the black-hatted Chassidim, strolling up and down 47th street in their dirty gabardine with their dandruff. Selling South African apartheid diamonds!
Fuck the Wall Street brokers. Self-styled masters of the universe. Michael Douglas, Gordon Gecko wannabe mother fuckers, figuring out new ways to rob hard working people blind. Send those Enron assholes to jail for fucking life! You think Bush and Cheney didn't know about that shit? Give me a fucking break! Tyco! Inclone! Adelphia! Worldcom!
Fuck the Puerto Ricans. 20 to a car, swelling up the welfare rolls, worst fuckin' parade in the city. And don't even get me started on the Dom-in-i-cans, because they make the Puerto Ricans look good.
Fuck the Bensonhurst Italians with their palmaded hair, their nylon warm-up suits, and their St. Anthony medallions. Swinging their, Jason Giambi, Louisville slugger, baseball bats, trying to audition for the Sopranos.
Fuck the Upper East Side wives with their Armani scarves and their fifty-dollar Balducci artichokes. Overfed faces getting pulled and lifted and stretched, all taut and shiny. You're not fooling anybody, sweetheart!
Fuck the uptown brothers. They never pass the ball, they don't want to play defense, they take fives steps on every lay-up to the hoop. And then they want to turn around and blame everything on the white man. Slavery ended one hundred and thirty seven years ago. Move the fuck on!
Fuck the corrupt cops with their anus violating plungers and their 41 shots, standing behind a blue wall of silence. You betray our trust!
Fuck the priests who put their hands down some innocent child's pants. Fuck the church that protects them, delivering us into evil. And while you're at it, fuck JC! He got off easy! A day on the cross, a weekend in hell, and all the hallelujahs of the legioned angels for eternity! Try seven years in fuckin Otisville, Jay!
Fuck Osama Bin Laden, Alqueda, and backward-ass, cave-dwelling, fundamentalist assholes everywhere. On the names of innocent thousands murdered, I pray you spend the rest of eternity with your seventy-two whores roasting in a jet-fueled fire in hell. You towel headed camel jockeys can kiss my royal, Irish ass!
Fuck Jacob Elinski, whining malcontent.
Fuck Francis Xavier Slaughtery, my best friend, judging me while he stares at my girlfriend's ass.
Fuck Naturelle Rivera. I gave her my trust and she stabbed me in the back. Sold me up the river. Fucking bitch.
Fuck my father with his endless grief, standing behind that bar. Sipping on club soda, selling whiskey to firemen and cheering the Bronx Bombers.
Fuck this whole city and everyone in it. From the row houses of Astoria to the penthouses on Park Avenue. From the projects in the Bronx to the lofts in Soho. From the tenements in Alphabet City to the brownstones in Park slope to the split levels in Staten Island. Let an earthquake crumble it. Let the fires rage. Let it burn to fuckin ash then let the waters rise and submerge this whole, rat-infested place.
No. No, fuck you, Montgomery Brogan. You had it all and then you threw it away, you dumb fuck!