Paradise Life Poems | Examples
These Paradise Life poems are examples of Life poems about Paradise. These are the best examples of Life Paradise poems written by international poets.
If you love something a lot,
you can do amazing things with it,
like a sun that loves the sky so much,
it colors it gold every morning and evening.
Look at the sunflower.
It turns its whole face toward the light,
like it's saying, thank you, thank you,
and that's how the world gets brighter.
When you love what you're doing,
your hands become like little rivers,
they just keep flowing and flowing,
and hard things start to feel like fun things.
A picture painted with love
glows like a firefly in a jar,
though not perfect, but alive,
lighting up the whole dark room.
So love big.
Try hard.
Whatever you make with love in it
will shine.
Spinning around self
and sun that sets
feeding life on clock
preset to end
dividing day
from night
work from rest
cradling in one lap
life and death
and all that is of earth
returns to earth
when veil descends
and all around is light
the soul ascends
to Sun without a night
and if its halo
by unbelief
was dimmed
will fall into the pit
against its wish
drawn by same strings
that held it in sin
for love is free
and soul
that’s dead inside
is puppet
of the masters
outside
life is love
and love
life eternal
paradise.
She couldn't live as a verse anymore,
She needed to be more than perfume on a pen,
more than a lovely dream for a hungry man,
to be touched beyond the torch
of twilight cool inspiration,
the Poet must give Her a body to behold,
to rescue Her from the curse
of a ghost feathered quill,
born of a bold blooded Angel
She will become Muse made warm woman real,
elegant as rose petal feel,
Her ancient thirst,
no longer slaked with ink of stellar burst,
the art of love will live
within the skin that She has suffered to win,
to parade through paradise
with a victor's pulse to survive,
Poet and Muse fused to sharpen
flame to flesh as lovers kiss the forbidden -
J.A.B.
Walk
In the park. Old wood, natural. Gives life
I love. I find. Here. Love. Nature touches me
Just walk. Make the photography. Photos
Silences, objective moments. Life’s monograms
Can I stay here? Let me live here? Only here
A pure world in the civilization. Presented ancient life
From the past. All the time. Just live inside
I want to live in Paradise, to feel love
I don’t want walk. I don’t want a walk. I don’t want to walk
I need a point. A nest.
Hmm. A dream. Only.
No more time.
In the time
Pass, pass
Modern life!
I need hairy
Hairy nature
Paradise
Original
Be Love
Lady
Help me
Help
Help
Please
Please
Find
Find
Love
You
Hmm. Hmm.
The original
Wished
Love
Eve
Paradise
You
You
Life
Live
You
You
Though I was born in paradise
it's not the streets you used to roam
need bring you home.
so take to Thyself, far and wide,
bring One inside.
for friend, this be true;
no land or sky can limit you.
One here refers to Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam, which translates to The World is one family.
Wandering Wayfarer -- Sponsor Nette Onclaud
Original version:
Though I was born in paradise
it’s not the streets you used to roam
that need retrace to bring you home
so take to Thyself, far and wide
and bring the flame of One inside
for when you see, friend, this be true,
no land or sky can limit you.
When you're traveling
down the road
of existence
you come to
the realization that
Life Is Good!
It's an easy assumption
that is validated
by the totality
of everyday circumstances
As long as you have
Love, food and shelter
you're content
It's very simple
to come
to that conclusion
Living each day
is a wonder -----
a magnificent fantasy
that can be
shared with others
No this world
No present, new past, new tradition, no this life, never
This world is running out, just check the time, still alive
No, this culture, no, this science, it’s already dead kind
The present, the new past, and tradition kill the world
Innocent is guilty, and the sinner is the innocent here
Hmm, I am guilty here, the accusation is my respect
The love of old times, texts, and prophets, ancient eras
This is my sin, psychology is killing my life. I love paradise
The past life
Only
Real moral
And only
The creation
The origin
The original
One
There is only
One
The first couple
The human pair
Create again
Beginnig
Origin of
New World
The
One
The rains are here, relentless
as ever
The grass blade is excited like
never
The season of hibernation is
over
Swirling in water, as duck dumpling
in sauce
The blade of grass has come home to
grow
It is a rich gourmet of moisture and
nutrients
Thrusts the roots, taking its journey
southward
And the shoots also going
northwards
The grass blade has come to take its
place.
As the rains continue in its
season
The lush of greenery fills the
reasons
Natural beauty in such lyrical
passion
Paradise in a paradox,
Laying her among
the lilies.
A LITANY OF TODAY'S FROTHING POETIC WAVES
GLORY BE TO GOD
Healing thanks to God,
sun risings, and sun settings;
Each day, a blessing:-
OF PARADISE LOST
Apple fell from tree,
Teasing snake tricked she and he,
Leaving you and me,
Evicted from paradise,
Where all was peace, love, and nice:-
HALTING EVIL WINDS
Horror winds blowing,
Breezing political grief;
God’s halting coming:-
GLORIOUS SUNSHINE
His sunshine lights up
The spirit of each day’s heart;
Come God, light up mine’s too,
Always reflecting your light
In daily labors of love:-
OF ANY AND EVERYTHING
What can God not do?!
Not a question, an answer;
Glory be to God!
There is nothing God can’t do!
Thus, be today’s awareness:-
A New Society
Eras, centuries, and histories have disappeared
New social systems are emerging and disappearing
But it all disappears, is destroyed, is forgotten. Time is a killer
And a doctor. Doctor. The past can not feel the suffering of a fire
There is no perfect society. We can just create a better one than the last
I am a believer in the next, best, and long-lived super society
The Galactic Society. We are humans. We must be extraterrestrials
We climbed from the tree a long time ago. And we were expelled from Paradise
So, let’s go. We need, we must, and we will create a new super Galactic Paradise
New Society
Is it a dream?
Still
Now
The pain increases every day
bit by bit, I have no say
I do what I can to ease it all
but it’s been a real long-haul
from cramping feet to head in a vice
swollen fingers, no paradise
aching hips, joints all stiff
inner workings gone skew-whiff
pins & needles, exhaustion too
I get no help, so I push through
muscles ache, it’s hard to heal
feel like perhaps I got a raw deal
Insomnia, brain fog, twitches & more
just some of the symptoms I endure
no two days are ever the same
Its wretched Fibro’s twisted game
The invisible illness no one sees
a chronic condition considered a disease
widespread pain & yet I smile
but some days wish I could turn down the dial.
A person's mind, Life, body, is intended/
For the person it was given to/
Not to be messed with in any ways/
In sacred gifts, we find our own/
The mind and life, a body's throne/
By God's design, our vessel created for us alone/
To tarnish such, our souls are maimed/
Life is too precious to seize and bind/
Sadistic ploys, deceit so bare/
To harvest trust, a hollow snare/
Unmask the face, let truth alight/
Reveal the self in honesty/
Never play with heart's intent/
For actions hold divine lament/
On judgement day, our deeds unfold/
The weight of a black heart, it's story told/
Respect life, the love, the core/
For Paradise awaits/
Beyond the door/
My liberation
My salvation
Even with fog and ice
She's my Paradise
I embrace her
Whenever
Aches of existential sea
Embrace me
Expelled from paradise, directed down to hell
Whose court is talking about justice here?
Yours are the apples, and your garden blooms so well
Pick any fruit, and treat the snake, my dear
The cruel punishment will never put them right,
Your congregation of the disingenuous slaves
The triumph of the law will not be glorified
By their rants expanded through the airwaves
If it's the other way around, what about
The high intention of a servant to command
Slaves become masters, so you see their snouts
Stick everywhere, your privacy is scanned
Sisyphus pushes up again his cobblestone
Choirs sing the psalms into the painted sky
Whilst in his tiny room the last bookworm
Hears the voices of those who refused to die.