"worths" poems
Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye,
And all my soul, and all my every part;
And for this sin there is no remedy,
It is so grounded inward in my heart.
Methinks no face so gracious is as mine,
No shape so true, no truth of such account;
And for my self mine own worth do define,
As I all other in all worths surmount.
But when my glass shows me myself indeed
Beated and chapped with tanned antiquity,
Mine own self-love quite contrary I read;
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
’Tis thee, myself, that for my self I praise,
Painting my age with beauty of thy days.
2.7k
he fed you sweet sweet words like honey
their taste like sugar on his tongue
no one had ever been so kind
so to every word you clung
he told you, you were pretty,
in the dress he had bought
that you were smart when you remembered
all the things he had taught
you came to need those words
just as much as you need air
the way they showed you that you had beauty
ever since he'd placed it there
but you didn't see the truth,
the holes the words left in his teeth
as he used all of the sugar
to coat the rotted heart beneath
he revealed to you your beauty
but made it so you would believe
that you would be quick to lose it
if you ever were to leave
so you stayed fast stuck beside him
as you fell deeper for his trick
smiling like nothing was wrong
when the sugar made you sick
but let me tell you something,
you do not need him there to shine
a boy should never have a say
on how your worths defined
I know you have the power
to break out of his sticky grip
for you were beautiful before the words
had touched his sour lips
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
*
oh you bringer of glad tides
His most ultimate of prides
if all of creation couldn't lie
they'd all be puttin' ye high
oh you speaker of the truth
His all of messenger's roof
if none of words could give
the worths of how ye'd live
oh you the defined example
His divine very own sample
if guidance would be ample
what'll save us the trample
oh you saviour of mankind
His mercy on deaf 'n' blind
if we ignorant can't display
what's 'tween night 'n' day
oh you the light upon light
His avail with which ignite
if the darkness will prevail
what track wouldn't derail
oh you guide upon the path
His only way without scath
if the wrath is kept hidden
what door will be forbidden
oh you holder of the heavenly key
His knowledge 'n' secrets to ye be
so to get back at this sinner's plea
oh you would ye please rescue me*
**..assalaato assalaamo alayka ya Sayyidi...!
..salawaat'Ullahi wa salaamahu alayhi wa aalihi wa sahbihi...!
..love always...
عرفان بن يوسف © AH 19/06/1436**
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 1:04 AM UTC
Maybe someday, some things that are too good to be true will become one of your biggest struggles
Maybe in one point of time, you learn how things work.
People change,
People go.
Maybe when everything is not in your favor anymore,
you will learn how to survive, instead of just giving up.
Maybe when everything is a mess,
you will learn how to be stronger,
how to forgive,
and how to let things go.
Maybe the story is not as beautiful as you want to be,
but when you know that he is the right person to be with,
Why would you even think twice to just sit and understand?
Maybe everything is not as magical as when you first started everything,
but you know he worths your struggle, then why even bother?
Everybody change, it is inevitable.
but you know yourself which one is worth the pain, and which one is not.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 4:36 AM UTC
.
Sad kings would have themselves
Be known as Bard, tho without music
They clack song, clang along, bleeding
Ears in their sycophantic, bull kingdoms,
The horns, hardly trumpet in the barnyards,
For it is writ, because they have so inscribed,
All must now be audience, and used witness,
The spotted fawn, is all their sorrowed brilliance,
Yet, the tower raven mocks these kings crowing,
How they vainly display their sorry proclamations
On flea broken, loosed, rusted, disused abacus,
Their tabulations of worths non are mounted
In a mirror by their chambers and hands,
But all the knowledge of fallen Rome
Are simply pleasures to dream,
As their dim wordy dreams
Know praises so hollow,
As fools on a throne.
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
We wish, we wished, we knew,
how the peace we make lingers,
magical thinking must not work,
but we were reared to really pray,
unceasingly, never failing to expect
to have, even as we uttered our amen,
peace enough to share,
by our own will
making our agreement amenable
in spirit,
and truth, as two parts
of all that ever may be, you and me,
in the way life happens where you and me live.
It is written, any judgement begun, where
ideas form words
to hold them in common, any truth
can be tested by its effect on a satisfied mind,
so when I say, spirit, you assume I speak of nothing
tangible in the natural, just something like a will
we let be today's good
in our local mind,
at the time,
to make us think,
before we use pre judged worths,
a dime, or a penny, today, ain't worth a wooden nickel,
-- I just remembered
when I was thirteen… Coke machines in Texas
sold bottled Cokes in six ounce bottles, for a Nickel,
and two empties garnered six cents, enough
for a soda pop and a piece of bubble gum.
That's how much things change in the space
of one measured neighborly Jubillee.
Whittling kindling is what honed knives are for,
I watched old men do it, and found it works,
look ahead to a winter fire easy to revive,
with shavings from summer whittle sessions,
making peace where none was when I woke up,
the whole world under old war rules running on,
but, while Jubilees are, done while considering,
just imagined, how debt erasure functions,
allows us freedom from
wrong reasons past.
We have all seen the size of Earth,
we all know our only neighbors are here.
We are a chosen planet, not a chosen people.
And on this planet, good people, make useful peace.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 2:50 PM UTC
Imagine being free from all the hidden dark thoughts
and secrets you ever had. Uninhabited by modern anxieties.
Imagine being truly free for just a moment.
A perfect creation of pure character and honesty.
Like good artists, evolve.
Like great artists innovate.
Create.
Represent.
Make things happen.
The experience.
All of it.
Art, dreams making us better and courageous,
even if man's inhumanity to man proves that the
very nature of mankind is defective.
It worths a shot to try really hard to change the fact
that mankind is tethered to a vicious cycle of
creation, decay and destruction.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
You're a serendipity
I'm a halcyon w your presence
Our vibing is the true quiddity
I love ua smile, it's lucent
Worths million kitakat's.
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 11:20 AM UTC
Photos, they say that a picture worths like a thousand words and that's
the reason we take photographs. They can capture a moment so much better than words.
If life was an album in time, how can we know that the best of them aren't captured yet.
If life is a test of multiple choice, in what quantity are the choices our own
and how much are they depended from other people choices?
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
Was sexier fun
Asleep, when thumbs excite...
The reason we wait on home
Is a secret in the wind, might?
Patient couth, with curves
Have asked us to walk by
And say hello to what worths
Seldom in love, a taste of pretty why?
Soap
And the honor, of a glaring
With the times, and a little hope
Hot on staring heels, we find caring
To be a magnificent kiss
Dragons with needy eyes first
A whole moment, alone in a world is...?
A wish to become better, before worst...
Do children know these things?
Do adults share what wisdom saw?
Do canny austerity, save any being?
Do a safer show of sensitivity, begin at home?
Apr 22, 2024
Apr 22, 2024 at 7:42 PM UTC
I had the gun pointed
My eyes were going to close
Everything worths it
But i saw a baby clothes
Since the "+" the tester showed it
Then i saw the receipts
I remembered what you wanted
Trigger down and off the bullets
An idea cameUp and i decided
Drove my B and the trip starts
To that spot where it started,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Anyways!!!! Its under one of the wipers.
The reason of my Suicide it the reason of my Breathe.
I just thought about it, do you remember when i promised you to be the wall to lay on ? And the stairs to move on ? Thats why i was **** To not take a shortcut to reach something worth it.
A GOOD LUCK, LIFE, AND HEALTH Is all i WANT FOR YOU, MAYBE YOU ARE ON THE RIGHT WAY, who knows maybe Joe is the JOY.
But after all, i just realized that we didnt start YET, that was only the light SPARK.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 11:56 PM UTC
Sad kings would have themselves
Be known as Bard, tho without music
They sing, song, clang along, bleeding
Ears in their sycophantic, bull kingdoms,
The horns, hardly trumpet in the barnyards,
For it is writ, because they have so inscribed,
All must now be audience, and used witness,
The spotted fawn, is all their sorrowed brilliance,
Yet, the tower raven mocks these kings crowing,
How they vainly display their sorry proclamations
On flea broken, loosed, rusted, disused abacus,
Their tabulations of worths non are mounted
In a mirror by their chambers and hands,
But all the knowledge of fallen Rome
Are simply pleasures to dream,
As their dim wordy dreams
Know praises so hollow,
As fools on a throne.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Here I am
Like a failed poetry
Like a direct meaning
Like an apparent melancoly
I don't remember
when exactly
I forgot
what was written
on my palms
and who wrote it
for what purpose
and why now it worths
to be said to the world!
Was it the true poetry?
Was it the life's secret meaning?
Was it a smile to the melancoly?
I don't remember
I don't remember
Where it comes the power of my palms.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
Saint sees the sun—
In every leaf and river,
Grow in bloom of sparkle,
That flows to earth
And sea, changing
The globe with rounded
Eyes and simple cloths.
But there are those—
Who label themselves
Sinner, by indifferent
Tongue of words they fork,
Vision that opens in dark,
By base industry and guile
Know their own worths.
Saint is old beginner,
Each day are missives
Of tears and joyful acts
To beauty and simple light
Becomings, pilgrims unleashed
By chains of hand and whirl
Of sun golden daisies.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
I can't count the countless times you've made my heart sings with joy,
only you can find the perfect tunes that turn my blues to hopes of ballads again,
and you still do,
in my wonderment you still do...
and even though I know greed may be a part of human nature,
I won't want more,
what we are is enough,
I'm grateful and I'm happy,
let's stay this way until we part again...
Surely to me you're no prince riding the white horse to the sunset,
And you're no knight in shining armour,
just so you know,
you're better than that,
you're a walking companion who takes my burdens with your words,
my harsh thoughts glossed with your lightness,
I thank you dear, Sire...
you're sincerity and your genuineness,
that worths much, much more than the price I paid for...
when the yarns of fates are tangled up like they do,
I'm glad ours did this time...
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 2:15 PM UTC
lekki, and
thus said leki...
former: slightly.
and latter: medicine....
medicine: or pills...
that's half a summary
of leftovers...
strutting toward
a hamstrung plagiarism
worths' worth of
kindergarten blah blah...
if ever the case
was ever the rheumatic catchphrase
or said: gyroid stubble...
the five o'clock tanning...
yep, lekki meaning a slightness,
meaning a gargantuan woo...
a slightness,
and that's half of ascribed Loci...
leki means medicine,
a plural circumstance...
letki meaning
paper-weight...
lekki hark and stutter...
Loci... or lost jarring toward
insinuated lightness,
as said: personified lightness,
unbearable to the suitor Kundera.
oh the stutter.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Saint sees the sun—
In every leaf and river,
Grow in bloom of sparkle,
That flows to earth
And sea, changing
The globe with rounded
Eyes and simple cloths.
But there are those—
Who label themselves
Sinner, by indifferent
Tongue of words they fork,
Vision that opens in dark,
By base industry and guile
Know their own worths.
Saint is old beginner,
Each day are missives
Of tears and joyful acts
To beauty and simple light
Becomings, pilgrims unleashed
By chains of hand and whirl
Of sun golden daisies.
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Saint sees the sun—
In every leaf and river,
Grow in bloom of sparkle,
That flows to earth
And sea, changing
The globe with rounded
Eyes and simple cloths.
But there are those—
Who label themselves
Sinner, by indifferent
Tongue of words they fork,
Vision that opens in dark,
By base industry and guile
Know their own worths.
Saint is old beginner,
Each day are missives
Of tears and joyful acts
To beauty and simple light
Becomings, pilgrims unleashed
By chains of hand and whirl
Of sun golden daisies.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
If you want
To love
Love that deep
Even a stone heart melts
For whatever
It worths
Longing to have
A recycled soul
Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 5:02 AM UTC
.
Saint sees the sun—
In every leaf and river,
Grow in bloom of sparkle,
That flows to earth
And sea, changing
The globe with rounded
Eyes and simple cloths.
But there are those—
Who label themselves
Sinner, by indifferent
Tongue of words they fork,
Vision that opens in dark,
By base industry and guile
Know their own worths.
Saint is old beginner,
Each day are missives
Of tears and joyful acts
To beauty and simple light
Becomings, pilgrims unleashed
By chains of hand and whirl
Of sun golden daisies.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
Life isn’t about the fashion magazine that lies open on the bed, or the box that travels in the truck and holds the newest iPhone. It’s not about the credit card numbers whispered in the dark or the heartless comments on some fifteen-year-old’s post on social media. Life is not about getting to the top or being the winner. Life is not about the celebrities everyone thinks run the world, not about the net worths, like one human life is worth more than another. Life is not about the greed and awful desires. Life is not about the having, or the getting, or the money, or the lies. It’s not about hate.
Life is about climbing trees barefoot, smiling in the sunlight that kisses your face, it’s about the strawberries you pick in the driveway and the fictional books you finish one by one. Life is about the twang of the old guitar, the breath of the sleeping dog. Life is about the good nights and good mornings, the I love you’s and I love you too’s. Life is about the autumn leaves that rustle in the wind, the same wind that blows through your shirt. Life is about the ease of childhood, and the pains of growing up. Life is about poetry and holding hands and bright red roses. Life is about giving. Life is about love.
Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 5:54 PM UTC
.
Saint sees the sun—
In every leaf and river,
Grow in bloom of sparkle,
That flows to earth
And sea, changing
The globe with rounded
Eyes and simple cloths.
But there are those—
Who label themselves
Sinner, by indifferent
Tongue of words they fork,
Vision that opens in dark,
By base industry and guile
Know their own worths.
Saint is old beginner,
Each day are missives
Of tears and joyful acts
To beauty and simple light
Becomings, pilgrims unleashed
By chains of hand and whirl
Of sun golden daisies.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 4:21 PM UTC
let me in you heart , let me be the blood that flows in you veins and i shall make you fly
let me be the first thing that is in you mind when you wake up , and the last one before you fall asleep ,
let me be with the person i was ment to be ,
let me be your sun that makes your face to shine
let me be your wind that blows the clouds away
let me be the bed from which your happiness shall grow
let me purge your darkest fears
let me in your life and you shall feel no sorrow
let me show you that it worths to live tomorrow
let me in your heart and i shall make it beat
let me kiss your lips that are so uncommonly sweet
let me be the life that flows in your veins
and you shall feel no more life's heavy chains
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
A life free of strife..
Without having to live on the edge of a knife..
That should be perfect,
We did things we regret,
Things we cannot forget,
But life goes on,
And we're never done..
Things we missed will come back again,
Yesterday's memories will drive us insane..
But what's life without ups and downs?
Sometimes we'll be crowned,
Sometimes we'll be clowned,
All this to set us apart from the crowd..
You can't be appreciated by everyone,
Cause you can't be anyone..
You may not be their star,
But at least you ain't faking who you are..
People will come and go,
The worth keeping ones you'll get to know,
Cause this is how it goes..
You'll get adapted to their yes's and no's,
But who to lose?
You can never choose..
And those who wanna stay,
To you? Will always pave their way..
And no matter what your situation, they who do,
will never ask for something new,
But will help you through❤️
For sure there's only a few,
But even if there's only one, it worths it if the feelings are true❤️
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 12:24 AM UTC
Atleast i still do have the memories inside me,
Those simple glimpse of your smile that worths more than its beauty,
Those tender eyes that seems to be talking at each of the other souls,
And those voices that makes me feel an embracing arms of yours.
I will be yours forever, ill promise you from now on,
We may not be together in the world of truth,
But this ill tell you, you will forever be at my heart
And you are the only one that i desire.
Always.
Apr 21, 2017
Apr 21, 2017 at 10:12 AM UTC