Life is the only way
to get covered in leaves,
catch your breath on the sand,
rise on wings;
to be a dog,
or stroke its warm fur;
to tell pain
from everything it's not;
to squeeze inside events,
dawdle in views,
to seek the least of all possible mistakes.
An extraordinary chance
to remember for a moment
a conversation held
with the lamp switched off;
and if only once
to stumble upon a stone,
end up soaked in one downpour or another,
mislay your keys in the grass;
and to follow a spark on the wind with your eyes;
and to keep on not knowing
something important.
-- by Wislawa Szymborska
(Translated from the Polish, by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh.)
Visit Szymborska's Nobel acceptance speech.
Science Quote
"Science works whether you believe in it or not. That's what's really cool about it"
A quote by The American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS)
A quote by The American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS)
A woman has a close male friend.
DragonflyBlade21: A woman has a close male friend. This means that he is probably interested in her, which is why he hangs around so much. She sees him strictly as a friend. This always starts out with, you're a great guy, but I don't like you in that way. This is roughly the equivalent for the guy of going to a job interview and the company saying, You have a great resume, you have all the qualifications we are looking for, but we're not going to hire you. We will, however, use your resume as the basis for comparison for all other applicants. But, we're going to hire somebody who is far less qualified and is probably an alcoholic. And if he doesn't work out, we'll hire somebody else, but still not you. In fact, we will never hire you. But we will call you from time to time to complain about the person that we hired.
__________________
Found on www.bash.org.
__________________
Found on www.bash.org.
Poem For People That Are Understandably Too Busy To Read Poetry
Relax. This won't last long.
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as melodrama,
and can offer you violence
if it is violence you like. Look,
there's a man on a sidewalk;
the way his leg is quivering
he'll never be the same again.
This is your poem
and I know you're busy at the office
or the kids are into your last nerve.
Maybe it's sex you've always wanted.
Well, they lie together
like the party's unbuttoned coats,
slumped on the bed
waiting for drunken arms to move them.
I don't think you want me to go on;
everyone has his expectations, but this
is a poem for the entire family.
Right now, Budweiser
is dripping from a waterfall,
deodorants are hissing into armpits
of people you resemble,
and the two lovers are dressing now,
saying farewell.
I don't know what music this poem
can come up with, but clearly
it's needed. For it's apparent
they will never see each other again
and we need music for this
because there was never music when he or she
left you standing on the corner.
You see, I want this poem to be nicer
than life. I want you to look at it
when anxiety zigzags your stomach
and the last tranquilizer is gone
and you need someone to tell you
I'll be here when you want me
like the sound inside a shell.
The poem is saying that to you now.
But don't give anything for this poem.
It doesn't expect much. It will never say more
than listening can explain.
Just keep it in your attache case
or in your house. And if you're not asleep
by now, or bored beyond sense,
the poem wants you to laugh. Laugh at
yourself, laugh at this poem, at all poetry.
Come on:
Good. Now here's what poetry can do.
Imagine yourself a caterpillar.
There's an awful shrug and, suddenly,
You're beautiful for as long as you live.
by Stephen Dunn
Or if it does, or if the lines
make you sleepy or bored,
give in to sleep, turn on
the T.V., deal the cards.
This poem is built to withstand
such things. Its feelings
cannot be hurt. They exist
somewhere in the poet,
and I am far away.
Pick it up anytime. Start it
in the middle if you wish.
It is as approachable as melodrama,
and can offer you violence
if it is violence you like. Look,
there's a man on a sidewalk;
the way his leg is quivering
he'll never be the same again.
This is your poem
and I know you're busy at the office
or the kids are into your last nerve.
Maybe it's sex you've always wanted.
Well, they lie together
like the party's unbuttoned coats,
slumped on the bed
waiting for drunken arms to move them.
I don't think you want me to go on;
everyone has his expectations, but this
is a poem for the entire family.
Right now, Budweiser
is dripping from a waterfall,
deodorants are hissing into armpits
of people you resemble,
and the two lovers are dressing now,
saying farewell.
I don't know what music this poem
can come up with, but clearly
it's needed. For it's apparent
they will never see each other again
and we need music for this
because there was never music when he or she
left you standing on the corner.
You see, I want this poem to be nicer
than life. I want you to look at it
when anxiety zigzags your stomach
and the last tranquilizer is gone
and you need someone to tell you
I'll be here when you want me
like the sound inside a shell.
The poem is saying that to you now.
But don't give anything for this poem.
It doesn't expect much. It will never say more
than listening can explain.
Just keep it in your attache case
or in your house. And if you're not asleep
by now, or bored beyond sense,
the poem wants you to laugh. Laugh at
yourself, laugh at this poem, at all poetry.
Come on:
Good. Now here's what poetry can do.
Imagine yourself a caterpillar.
There's an awful shrug and, suddenly,
You're beautiful for as long as you live.
by Stephen Dunn
If Sex Is Dirty
If sex is dirty
and babies come from sex
then babies must be dirty.
If babies are dirty
and babies become adults
then adults must be dirty.
If adults are dirty
and adults live a life
then life must be dirty.
If life is dirty
and God gives life
then God must be dirty.
If God is dirty
and God created sex
then a whole lot of people need to take a bath.
Robert M Wilson
and babies come from sex
then babies must be dirty.
If babies are dirty
and babies become adults
then adults must be dirty.
If adults are dirty
and adults live a life
then life must be dirty.
If life is dirty
and God gives life
then God must be dirty.
If God is dirty
and God created sex
then a whole lot of people need to take a bath.
Robert M Wilson
And on and on and on by Charles Lara
The fat sun
has gone away
and the fire
has become
a flickering thin flame
The moon shaves itself
And perfumes its dark side
Under the sugar stars
Beyond the laughter of God
A silver pinhead
a tiny dot
is what begins
to show between
bright cotton clouds
Young winter dances
While early autumn
fucks the days away
and life goes on
and so do we
and on and on and on…
has gone away
and the fire
has become
a flickering thin flame
The moon shaves itself
And perfumes its dark side
Under the sugar stars
Beyond the laughter of God
A silver pinhead
a tiny dot
is what begins
to show between
bright cotton clouds
Young winter dances
While early autumn
fucks the days away
and life goes on
and so do we
and on and on and on…
Useless Junk?
There's so much
of a useless junk.
Like the other day,
I was watching a movie
the one I had seen
a long time back;
wasn't even watching it
forgotten all about it
just hearing what was going on,
I remembered, every word said
and the next line that would be said.
Just a useless junk
forgotten
it's all still there
so are many other things
that I do not remember.
of a useless junk.
Like the other day,
I was watching a movie
the one I had seen
a long time back;
wasn't even watching it
forgotten all about it
just hearing what was going on,
I remembered, every word said
and the next line that would be said.
Just a useless junk
forgotten
it's all still there
so are many other things
that I do not remember.
Sometimes it Happens by Brian Patten
And sometimes it happens that you are friends and then
You are not friends,
And friendship has passed.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself.
And sometimes it happens that you are loved and then
You are not loved,
And love is past.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself into the grass.
And sometimes you want to speak to her and then
You do not want to speak,
Then the opportunity has passed.
Your dreams flare up, they suddenly vanish.
And also it happens that there is nowhere to go and then
There is somewhere to go,
Then you have bypassed.
And the years flare up and are gone,
Quicker than a minute.
So you have nothing.
You wonder if these things matter and then
As soon you begin to wonder if these things matter
They cease to matter,
And caring is past.
And a fountain empties itself into the grass.
You are not friends,
And friendship has passed.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself.
And sometimes it happens that you are loved and then
You are not loved,
And love is past.
And whole days are lost and among them
A fountain empties itself into the grass.
And sometimes you want to speak to her and then
You do not want to speak,
Then the opportunity has passed.
Your dreams flare up, they suddenly vanish.
And also it happens that there is nowhere to go and then
There is somewhere to go,
Then you have bypassed.
And the years flare up and are gone,
Quicker than a minute.
So you have nothing.
You wonder if these things matter and then
As soon you begin to wonder if these things matter
They cease to matter,
And caring is past.
And a fountain empties itself into the grass.
Infinite Monkeys
The advertisement in a daily read
"Wanted computer savy infinite monkeys
perks: best bananas in the industry"
Thus putting togather infinite monkeys
sitting them all at computer keyboards
teaching them to type, the work began:
Works of all bards, and all philosophers
of the past and the infinite time to come
all the old and many new masterpieces galore.
Now the big problem that was encountered
finding monkey that produced the masterpieces,
so infinite monkeys were put on sorting task.
There were reports that Encyclopedia Britannica
all of the volumes were spotted in Esperanto
Entire works of Shakespeare in ancient Martian.
Amongst the infinite gems and gibberish
this poem was discovered by some monkeys
all it took was one monkey an hour to write.
According to the second Borel-Cantelli lemma, given enough time, a chimpanzee at random will almost certainly eventually type out a copy of one of Shakespeare's plays. So monkeys, go on, keep hitting the keyboards.
For further reading visit here
"Wanted computer savy infinite monkeys
perks: best bananas in the industry"
Thus putting togather infinite monkeys
sitting them all at computer keyboards
teaching them to type, the work began:
Works of all bards, and all philosophers
of the past and the infinite time to come
all the old and many new masterpieces galore.
Now the big problem that was encountered
finding monkey that produced the masterpieces,
so infinite monkeys were put on sorting task.
There were reports that Encyclopedia Britannica
all of the volumes were spotted in Esperanto
Entire works of Shakespeare in ancient Martian.
Amongst the infinite gems and gibberish
this poem was discovered by some monkeys
all it took was one monkey an hour to write.
According to the second Borel-Cantelli lemma, given enough time, a chimpanzee at random will almost certainly eventually type out a copy of one of Shakespeare's plays. So monkeys, go on, keep hitting the keyboards.
For further reading visit here
Love doesn't die...
by an anonymous author.
When I die if you need to weep
Cry for your brother or sister
Walking the street beside you
And when you need me put your arms around anyone
And give them what you need to give me.
I want to leave you something
Something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I've known or loved
And if you cannot give me away
At least let me live in your eyes and not on your mind.
You can love me most by letting hands touch hands
And by letting bodies touch bodies
And by letting go of children that need to be free.
Love doesn't die, people do
So when all that is left of me is love
Give me away.
When I die if you need to weep
Cry for your brother or sister
Walking the street beside you
And when you need me put your arms around anyone
And give them what you need to give me.
I want to leave you something
Something better than words or sounds.
Look for me in the people I've known or loved
And if you cannot give me away
At least let me live in your eyes and not on your mind.
You can love me most by letting hands touch hands
And by letting bodies touch bodies
And by letting go of children that need to be free.
Love doesn't die, people do
So when all that is left of me is love
Give me away.
When I Learned to Whistle by Gordon Lea written at age eleven
I remember the day when I learned to whistle,
It was in Spring and new sounds were all around.
I was five or six and my front teeth were missing,
But I blew until my cheeks stuck out.
I remember walking up and down the block,
Trying to impress those that heard me
With the tunes and sounds that came from my mouth,
For I sounded much better than the birds in the trees.
I remember being hurt, for nobody seemed to care,
And then I met an old man who stopped and smiles.
He too blew until his cheeks stuck out.
He sounded just like me, for his front teeth were missing.
It was in Spring and new sounds were all around.
I was five or six and my front teeth were missing,
But I blew until my cheeks stuck out.
I remember walking up and down the block,
Trying to impress those that heard me
With the tunes and sounds that came from my mouth,
For I sounded much better than the birds in the trees.
I remember being hurt, for nobody seemed to care,
And then I met an old man who stopped and smiles.
He too blew until his cheeks stuck out.
He sounded just like me, for his front teeth were missing.
The Gift by Rabindranath Tagore
I want to give you something, my child,
for we are drifting in the stream of the world.
Our lives will be carried apart,
and our love forgotten.
But I am not so foolish as to hope that
I could buy your heart with my gifts.
Young is your life, your path long, and
you drink the love we bring you at one draught
and turn and run away from us.
You have your play and your playmates.
What harm is there if you have no time
or thought for us.
We, indeed, have leisure enough in old age
to count the days that are past,
to cherish in our hearts what our
hands have lost for ever.
The river runs swift with a song,
breaking through all barriers.
But the mountain stays and remembers,
and follows her with his love.
for we are drifting in the stream of the world.
Our lives will be carried apart,
and our love forgotten.
But I am not so foolish as to hope that
I could buy your heart with my gifts.
Young is your life, your path long, and
you drink the love we bring you at one draught
and turn and run away from us.
You have your play and your playmates.
What harm is there if you have no time
or thought for us.
We, indeed, have leisure enough in old age
to count the days that are past,
to cherish in our hearts what our
hands have lost for ever.
The river runs swift with a song,
breaking through all barriers.
But the mountain stays and remembers,
and follows her with his love.
The Song of Creation
The Song of Creation
from Rgveda(Ancient Indian Text) translated by Max Mueller
Then there was not non-existent nor existent:
there was no realm of air, no sky beyond it.
What covered in, and where? and what gave shelter?
was water there, unfathomed depth of water?
Death was not then, nor was there aught immortal:
no sign was there, the day's and night's divider.
That one thing, breathless, breathed by its own nature
apart from it was nothing whatsoever.
Darkness there was: at first concealed in darkness,
this All was undiscriminated chaos.
All that existed then was void and formless;
by the great power of warmth was born that unit.
Thereafter rose desire in the beginning,
Desire the primal seed and germ of spirit.
Sages who searched with their heart's thought
discovered the existent's kinship in the non-existent.
Transversely was their severing line extended:
what was above it then, and what below it?
There were begetters, there were mighty forces,
free action here and energy of yonder.
Who verily knows and who can here declare it,
whence it was born and whence comes this creation?
The gods are later than this world's production.
Who knows, then, whence it first came into being?
He, the first origin of this creation,
whether he formed it all or did not form it,
Whose eye controls this world in highest heaven,
he verily knows it, or perhaps he knows it not.
Translated by John Muir
Then there was neither Aught nor Nought, no air nor sky beyond.
What covered all? Where rested all? In watery gulf profound?
Nor death was then, nor deathlessness, nor change of night and day.
That One breathed calmly, self-sustained; nought else beyond it lay.
Gloom hid in gloom existed first - one sea, eluding view.
That One, a void in chaos wrapt, by inward fervour grew.
Within it first arose desire, the primal germ of mind,
Which nothing with existence links, as sages searching find.
The kindling ray that shot across the dark and drear abyss-
Was it beneath? or high aloft? What bard can answer this?
There fecundating powers were found, and mighty forces strove-
A self-supporting mass beneath, and energy above.
Who knows, who ever told, from whence this vast creation rose?
No gods had then been born - who then can e'er the truth disclose?
Whence sprang this world, and whether framed by hand divine or no-
Its lord in heaven alone can tell, if even he can show.
from Rgveda(Ancient Indian Text) translated by Max Mueller
Then there was not non-existent nor existent:
there was no realm of air, no sky beyond it.
What covered in, and where? and what gave shelter?
was water there, unfathomed depth of water?
Death was not then, nor was there aught immortal:
no sign was there, the day's and night's divider.
That one thing, breathless, breathed by its own nature
apart from it was nothing whatsoever.
Darkness there was: at first concealed in darkness,
this All was undiscriminated chaos.
All that existed then was void and formless;
by the great power of warmth was born that unit.
Thereafter rose desire in the beginning,
Desire the primal seed and germ of spirit.
Sages who searched with their heart's thought
discovered the existent's kinship in the non-existent.
Transversely was their severing line extended:
what was above it then, and what below it?
There were begetters, there were mighty forces,
free action here and energy of yonder.
Who verily knows and who can here declare it,
whence it was born and whence comes this creation?
The gods are later than this world's production.
Who knows, then, whence it first came into being?
He, the first origin of this creation,
whether he formed it all or did not form it,
Whose eye controls this world in highest heaven,
he verily knows it, or perhaps he knows it not.
Translated by John Muir
Then there was neither Aught nor Nought, no air nor sky beyond.
What covered all? Where rested all? In watery gulf profound?
Nor death was then, nor deathlessness, nor change of night and day.
That One breathed calmly, self-sustained; nought else beyond it lay.
Gloom hid in gloom existed first - one sea, eluding view.
That One, a void in chaos wrapt, by inward fervour grew.
Within it first arose desire, the primal germ of mind,
Which nothing with existence links, as sages searching find.
The kindling ray that shot across the dark and drear abyss-
Was it beneath? or high aloft? What bard can answer this?
There fecundating powers were found, and mighty forces strove-
A self-supporting mass beneath, and energy above.
Who knows, who ever told, from whence this vast creation rose?
No gods had then been born - who then can e'er the truth disclose?
Whence sprang this world, and whether framed by hand divine or no-
Its lord in heaven alone can tell, if even he can show.
Warning to Children
Children, if you dare to think
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where the same brown paper parcel -
Children, leave the string alone!
For who dares undo the parcel
Finds himself at once inside it,
On the island, in the fruit,
Blocks of slate about his head,
Finds himself enclosed by dappled
Green and red, enclosed by yellow
Tawny nets, enclosed by black
And white acres of dominoes,
With the same brown paper parcel
Still untied upon his knee.
And, if he then should dare to think
Of the fewness, muchness, rareness,
Greatness of this endless only
Precious world in which he says
he lives - he then unties the string.
by Robert Graves
Of the greatness, rareness, muchness
Fewness of this precious only
Endless world in which you say
You live, you think of things like this:
Blocks of slate enclosing dappled
Red and green, enclosing tawny
Yellow nets, enclosing white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where a neat brown paper parcel
Tempts you to untie the string.
In the parcel a small island,
On the island a large tree,
On the tree a husky fruit.
Strip the husk and pare the rind off:
In the kernel you will see
Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled
Red and green, enclosed by tawny
Yellow nets, enclosed by white
And black acres of dominoes,
Where the same brown paper parcel -
Children, leave the string alone!
For who dares undo the parcel
Finds himself at once inside it,
On the island, in the fruit,
Blocks of slate about his head,
Finds himself enclosed by dappled
Green and red, enclosed by yellow
Tawny nets, enclosed by black
And white acres of dominoes,
With the same brown paper parcel
Still untied upon his knee.
And, if he then should dare to think
Of the fewness, muchness, rareness,
Greatness of this endless only
Precious world in which he says
he lives - he then unties the string.
by Robert Graves
Emptiness by Jalaluddin Rumi
When you are with everyone but me,
you're with no one.
When you are with no one but me,
you're with everyone.
Instead of being so bound up with everyone,
be everyone.
When you become that many, you're nothing.
Empty.
you're with no one.
When you are with no one but me,
you're with everyone.
Instead of being so bound up with everyone,
be everyone.
When you become that many, you're nothing.
Empty.
Tangible Dreams
Look beyond
That what you see
Might fill your mind
With mystery
Seek within
As well without
Those answers that
Dispel your doubt
Slumber with
What you have learned
For within dreams
Such knowledge burns
Then comes that
Fateful day at hand
You live your dreams
And understand
Written by Nazmythian
That what you see
Might fill your mind
With mystery
Seek within
As well without
Those answers that
Dispel your doubt
Slumber with
What you have learned
For within dreams
Such knowledge burns
Then comes that
Fateful day at hand
You live your dreams
And understand
Written by Nazmythian
When Death Comes by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox:
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox:
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
She Speaks of Death
Oblivion, she said
in a weary voice,
is what is after death.
There is nothing after death
but nothing
and that's all right with me.
It made good scientific sense,
nailed to the cathedral door
of her religious childhood.
And when her husband died
a few years later
oblivion
pinned against eternity
sagged in the middle
and in its folds
sweet disbelief surprised her
and the hope
she hadn't seen the last of him yet.
Written by Barbara Pescan
in a weary voice,
is what is after death.
There is nothing after death
but nothing
and that's all right with me.
It made good scientific sense,
nailed to the cathedral door
of her religious childhood.
And when her husband died
a few years later
oblivion
pinned against eternity
sagged in the middle
and in its folds
sweet disbelief surprised her
and the hope
she hadn't seen the last of him yet.
Written by Barbara Pescan
There is no god, the wicked sayeth
"There is no God," the wicked saith,
"And truly it's a blessing,
For what He might have done with us
It's better only guessing."
"There is no God," a youngster thinks,
"or really, if there may be,
He surely did not mean a man
Always to be a baby."
"There is no God, or if there is,"
The tradesman thinks, "'twere funny
If He should take it ill in me
To make a little money."
"Whether there be," the rich man says,
"It matters very little,
For I and mine, thank somebody,
Are not in want of victual."
Some others, also, to themselves,
Who scarce so much as doubt it,
Think there is none, when they are well,
And do not think about it.
But country folks who live beneath
The shadow of the steeple;
The parson and the parson's wife,
And mostly married people;
Youths green and happy in first love,
So thankful for illusion;
And men caught out in what the world
Calls guilt, in first confusion;
And almost everyone when age,
Disease, or sorrows strike him,
Inclines to think there is a God,
Or something very like Him.
-- Arthur Hugh Clough
"And truly it's a blessing,
For what He might have done with us
It's better only guessing."
"There is no God," a youngster thinks,
"or really, if there may be,
He surely did not mean a man
Always to be a baby."
"There is no God, or if there is,"
The tradesman thinks, "'twere funny
If He should take it ill in me
To make a little money."
"Whether there be," the rich man says,
"It matters very little,
For I and mine, thank somebody,
Are not in want of victual."
Some others, also, to themselves,
Who scarce so much as doubt it,
Think there is none, when they are well,
And do not think about it.
But country folks who live beneath
The shadow of the steeple;
The parson and the parson's wife,
And mostly married people;
Youths green and happy in first love,
So thankful for illusion;
And men caught out in what the world
Calls guilt, in first confusion;
And almost everyone when age,
Disease, or sorrows strike him,
Inclines to think there is a God,
Or something very like Him.
-- Arthur Hugh Clough
A Story Of A Wave
A wave in an ocean
acquired conciousness
just when he was on the rise
While he was rising
he had wonderful visions
he thought how mighty he was
he was proud of the way he moved
he felt being very special
he loved the way wind felt
and felt as if
he was riding the wind
Then he became aware
of other waves
some mightier than him,
some just a little ripples
He felt less special,
infact felt quite common
he was sad and was breaking apart
Yes he'd seen many joys and some sorrows
All of this lasted but an instant
Down he went and he was a wave no more
What was he?
What was he all the time
before he was a wave?
What would he be after
for eternal time to come?
Just a wave?
A wave that was?
Perhaps he didn't even exist at all!
As soon as he stopped being a wave
he became aware what he really was:
he was a mighty ocean
and all the waves and ripples
were nothing but himself
in all the glorious forms
almost came to believe being
just a wave, soon to be forgotten
Being, not being special,
feeling proud of achievements,
joys and sorrows
heaven and hell
didn't quite mean anything at all.
Just some words invented by waves
to last them that brief moment
they ride the winds.
On the earth
a child was born...
somewhere a star was born...
a galaxy of stars is being born...
acquired conciousness
just when he was on the rise
While he was rising
he had wonderful visions
he thought how mighty he was
he was proud of the way he moved
he felt being very special
he loved the way wind felt
and felt as if
he was riding the wind
Then he became aware
of other waves
some mightier than him,
some just a little ripples
He felt less special,
infact felt quite common
he was sad and was breaking apart
Yes he'd seen many joys and some sorrows
All of this lasted but an instant
Down he went and he was a wave no more
What was he?
What was he all the time
before he was a wave?
What would he be after
for eternal time to come?
Just a wave?
A wave that was?
Perhaps he didn't even exist at all!
As soon as he stopped being a wave
he became aware what he really was:
he was a mighty ocean
and all the waves and ripples
were nothing but himself
in all the glorious forms
almost came to believe being
just a wave, soon to be forgotten
Being, not being special,
feeling proud of achievements,
joys and sorrows
heaven and hell
didn't quite mean anything at all.
Just some words invented by waves
to last them that brief moment
they ride the winds.
On the earth
a child was born...
somewhere a star was born...
a galaxy of stars is being born...
In Between the Storms
Since the beginning of the days
our life is tossed and turned
ripped apart by many a storms
These ones, the ones to come
shall all belong to the past
Looking out, through the dust
through the violent cruel winds
this world is not what it seems
Pure and tranquil it always is
as it is between the storms
When the sand storm like-
assault of thoughts begin
with dust blurring judgement
we are not what we think we are,
Just an incoherent caricatures
Let the storms of thoughts die
Let the dust of ignorance clear
Kill the commotions to reveal
our true self, as we always are
as we are in between the storms
our life is tossed and turned
ripped apart by many a storms
These ones, the ones to come
shall all belong to the past
Looking out, through the dust
through the violent cruel winds
this world is not what it seems
Pure and tranquil it always is
as it is between the storms
When the sand storm like-
assault of thoughts begin
with dust blurring judgement
we are not what we think we are,
Just an incoherent caricatures
Let the storms of thoughts die
Let the dust of ignorance clear
Kill the commotions to reveal
our true self, as we always are
as we are in between the storms
Strange Coincidence
After writing the post below a couple of days back, today I was randomly reading some poems, and I found not one but two of the similarly themed poems. The second one is a kind of parody of the first one.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be
in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull
and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you
compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always
there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your
achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in
the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue
there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full
of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about
love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial
as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of
youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do
not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and
loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you
have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the
universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and
whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep
peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful
world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
-- Max Ehrmannn
Deteriorata
Go placidly amid the noise and waste, remembering what comfort may be found
in owning a piece thereof. Avoid quiet and passive persons unless you are in
need of sleep.
Rotate your wheels, it is what they are for.
Speak glowingly of others greater than yourself, heed well their advice
even though they be turkeys. Know what to kiss, and when.
Consider that two wrongs never make a right. However, three do.
Wherever possible put people on hold and leave for the day. Be comforted
that, in the face of all aridity and disillusionment and despite the
changing fortunes of time, there will always be a big future in computer
maintenance.
Remember the Alamo. Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and
mutilate. Know yourself. If you do not, look in the mirror - that's you.
Exercise caution in your daily affairs, especially with those persons
closest to you. That turkey on your left for instance.
Fall not in love, it will stick to your face and smell of tuna.
Gracefully surrender the things of youth, burgers, coffee and obesity.
Hire people with hooks.
For a good time, Listen to a US foreign policy speech.
Take heart amid the deepening gloom that at least your cat is being fed
well; reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, at least you don't
live in Ohio.
You are a fluke of the universe: you have no right to be here. Whether or
not you can hear it, the Universe is laughing behind your back.
Therefore make your peace with God, whether you consider him to be clown or
President of the disUnited States.
With all its hopes, dreams and McDonalds, the world will continue to
deteriorate.
-- National Lampoon
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be
in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull
and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you
compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always
there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your
achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in
the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue
there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full
of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about
love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial
as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of
youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do
not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and
loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you
have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the
universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and
whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep
peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful
world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
-- Max Ehrmannn
Deteriorata
Go placidly amid the noise and waste, remembering what comfort may be found
in owning a piece thereof. Avoid quiet and passive persons unless you are in
need of sleep.
Rotate your wheels, it is what they are for.
Speak glowingly of others greater than yourself, heed well their advice
even though they be turkeys. Know what to kiss, and when.
Consider that two wrongs never make a right. However, three do.
Wherever possible put people on hold and leave for the day. Be comforted
that, in the face of all aridity and disillusionment and despite the
changing fortunes of time, there will always be a big future in computer
maintenance.
Remember the Alamo. Strive at all times to bend, fold, spindle and
mutilate. Know yourself. If you do not, look in the mirror - that's you.
Exercise caution in your daily affairs, especially with those persons
closest to you. That turkey on your left for instance.
Fall not in love, it will stick to your face and smell of tuna.
Gracefully surrender the things of youth, burgers, coffee and obesity.
Hire people with hooks.
For a good time, Listen to a US foreign policy speech.
Take heart amid the deepening gloom that at least your cat is being fed
well; reflect that whatever misfortune may be your lot, at least you don't
live in Ohio.
You are a fluke of the universe: you have no right to be here. Whether or
not you can hear it, the Universe is laughing behind your back.
Therefore make your peace with God, whether you consider him to be clown or
President of the disUnited States.
With all its hopes, dreams and McDonalds, the world will continue to
deteriorate.
-- National Lampoon
Blue Print of Life - Rough Draft
Have few basic princples in life. It may be difficult at times, but stick to the rules. If Mother Theresa or Gandhi could do it, so can we.
We don't have to follow every principles of every great people. Just few that make our life worth living.
Live simple, live on minimum possible frills, eat and dress simple. If you have to indulge in luxuries, do it once in a while but always know the difference between need and necessacity. Enjoy thoroughly in any luxuries you indulge in. Never ever get adicted to anything.
Alway be truthful, even when you may think a white lie must be used.
Be passionate about your work up to the limit you enjoy what you are doing, change your work or working style once you stop enjoying.
We don't have to love every one in the world, just few people, love them with all of your heart. Never say no to anything those few people ask from you, it could be your time, or anything else.
If you come across sickness or sorrow, know that its just part of being alive. A part of life without which life will not exist.
When you come across less understanding, less fortunate, cruel or bad people in your lives, know that they are there for a reason, there are many lessons to be learnt from their behaviour.
Treat your emotions as a precious bank balance, you have very little of them to spend, spend them wisely. Balance is the key, cherish happy moments and make them last longer. In sad times dwell on happy moments, once you run out of those, quickly work on creating more of the happy moments. Happiness is your own currency, you can give any value you desire to it, accumulate those. Give as little value and time to sad moments, believe me, they are not worth anything.
Do not hurt anything or anyone out of hatred or revenge.
If you do not believe in any religion, that is fine, but believe in divinity of yourself, your actions should reflect that divinity. If you do not believe in any God, that is ok too, just find a friend who you can have complete faith in, even if the friend is an imaginary one.
* This is work in progress.
We don't have to follow every principles of every great people. Just few that make our life worth living.
Live simple, live on minimum possible frills, eat and dress simple. If you have to indulge in luxuries, do it once in a while but always know the difference between need and necessacity. Enjoy thoroughly in any luxuries you indulge in. Never ever get adicted to anything.
Alway be truthful, even when you may think a white lie must be used.
Be passionate about your work up to the limit you enjoy what you are doing, change your work or working style once you stop enjoying.
We don't have to love every one in the world, just few people, love them with all of your heart. Never say no to anything those few people ask from you, it could be your time, or anything else.
If you come across sickness or sorrow, know that its just part of being alive. A part of life without which life will not exist.
When you come across less understanding, less fortunate, cruel or bad people in your lives, know that they are there for a reason, there are many lessons to be learnt from their behaviour.
Treat your emotions as a precious bank balance, you have very little of them to spend, spend them wisely. Balance is the key, cherish happy moments and make them last longer. In sad times dwell on happy moments, once you run out of those, quickly work on creating more of the happy moments. Happiness is your own currency, you can give any value you desire to it, accumulate those. Give as little value and time to sad moments, believe me, they are not worth anything.
Do not hurt anything or anyone out of hatred or revenge.
If you do not believe in any religion, that is fine, but believe in divinity of yourself, your actions should reflect that divinity. If you do not believe in any God, that is ok too, just find a friend who you can have complete faith in, even if the friend is an imaginary one.
* This is work in progress.
Elephants Are Different to Different People
Wilson and Pilcer and Snack stood before the zoo elephant.
Wilson said, "What is its name? Is it from Asia or Africa? Who feeds
it? Is it a he or a she? How old is it? Do they have twins? How much does
it cost to feed? How much does it weigh? If it dies, how much will another
one cost? If it dies, what will they use the bones, the fat, and the hide
for? What use is it besides to look at?"
Pilcer didn't have any questions; he was murmering to himself, "It's
a house by itself, walls and windows, the ears came from tall cornfields,
by God; the architect of those legs was a workman, by God; he stands like
a bridge out across the deep water; the face is sad and the eyes are kind;
I know elephants are good to babies."
Snack looked up and down and at last said to himself, "He's a tough
son-of-a-gun outside and I'll bet he's got a strong heart, I'll bet he's
strong as a copper-riveted boiler inside."
They didn't put up any arguments.
They didn't throw anything in each other's faces.
Three men saw the elephant three ways
And let it go at that.
They didn't spoil a sunny Sunday afternoon;
"Sunday comes only once a week," they told each other.
-- Carl Sandburg
Wilson said, "What is its name? Is it from Asia or Africa? Who feeds
it? Is it a he or a she? How old is it? Do they have twins? How much does
it cost to feed? How much does it weigh? If it dies, how much will another
one cost? If it dies, what will they use the bones, the fat, and the hide
for? What use is it besides to look at?"
Pilcer didn't have any questions; he was murmering to himself, "It's
a house by itself, walls and windows, the ears came from tall cornfields,
by God; the architect of those legs was a workman, by God; he stands like
a bridge out across the deep water; the face is sad and the eyes are kind;
I know elephants are good to babies."
Snack looked up and down and at last said to himself, "He's a tough
son-of-a-gun outside and I'll bet he's got a strong heart, I'll bet he's
strong as a copper-riveted boiler inside."
They didn't put up any arguments.
They didn't throw anything in each other's faces.
Three men saw the elephant three ways
And let it go at that.
They didn't spoil a sunny Sunday afternoon;
"Sunday comes only once a week," they told each other.
-- Carl Sandburg
Seven Minutes for a Smile
I sit staring at you
waiting for that smile
Don't want to blink,
for I may miss
the precious sight, your smile
Can't wait for that moment
when you'd unveil
your beautiful smile
Seven minutes I wait
with my smile mile long
looking at you trying
to hide that smile
Here it comes now
If there ever was one
a smile well worth
seven minutes and more
waiting for that smile
Don't want to blink,
for I may miss
the precious sight, your smile
Can't wait for that moment
when you'd unveil
your beautiful smile
Seven minutes I wait
with my smile mile long
looking at you trying
to hide that smile
Here it comes now
If there ever was one
a smile well worth
seven minutes and more
Rain Drops
reach out your hand
and touch the rain drops
feel them
splash
against your skin
over and over again
head back
mouth open
taste the rain drops
fall onto your tongue
those small little rain drops
come down from the sky
very very high
they fall to the ground
but they're still alive
tiny little rain drops
come splash me again
come down from the sky
and wet my skin.
by Pyrochick
and touch the rain drops
feel them
splash
against your skin
over and over again
head back
mouth open
taste the rain drops
fall onto your tongue
those small little rain drops
come down from the sky
very very high
they fall to the ground
but they're still alive
tiny little rain drops
come splash me again
come down from the sky
and wet my skin.
by Pyrochick
A Circle of Enlightenment
A straight line
with no within
and without
bends unto itself
transforms into
a circle
The circle
little space inside
infinite space outside
Our minds, thats how it is
so little inside
and so much more outside
All Wisdom and religion
seek to erase
the boundries of ignorance
Misinterpreted
they just misshapen
a perfect circle
Yes, there's beauty
to behold in shaped
circle of ignorance
It's battered and bleeds
when tampered with
wisdom and reason
Religions and wisdom
with right intentions
stretches the horizon
a circle with centre
without any boundries
finally they enlighten
The metamorphosis of a closed mind to an open mind with a centre as an awareness of 'the self' and encompassing everything in existance, all knowledge, wisdom, time and space is 'enlightenment'. We start out as children with no self awareness (straight line) then as we grow older we create a circle around our self, no matter how large the circle is, it is still minute compared to neverending boundries of knowledge and wisdom. With introspection and wisdom, we seek to break this boundries. If we seek enlightenment outside, we would be limited by the horizon created by our sensory perception. It is only by looking within ourselves we would be able to erase the boundries of self created circle of psuedo knowledge/ignorance.
with no within
and without
bends unto itself
transforms into
a circle
The circle
little space inside
infinite space outside
Our minds, thats how it is
so little inside
and so much more outside
All Wisdom and religion
seek to erase
the boundries of ignorance
Misinterpreted
they just misshapen
a perfect circle
Yes, there's beauty
to behold in shaped
circle of ignorance
It's battered and bleeds
when tampered with
wisdom and reason
Religions and wisdom
with right intentions
stretches the horizon
a circle with centre
without any boundries
finally they enlighten
The metamorphosis of a closed mind to an open mind with a centre as an awareness of 'the self' and encompassing everything in existance, all knowledge, wisdom, time and space is 'enlightenment'. We start out as children with no self awareness (straight line) then as we grow older we create a circle around our self, no matter how large the circle is, it is still minute compared to neverending boundries of knowledge and wisdom. With introspection and wisdom, we seek to break this boundries. If we seek enlightenment outside, we would be limited by the horizon created by our sensory perception. It is only by looking within ourselves we would be able to erase the boundries of self created circle of psuedo knowledge/ignorance.
Time well spent by a Himalayan lake
When at a highland lake
sit there, spend couple of hours
in a mountain silence
enjoy few breaths of pure air
You could be there in early mornings
when gentle breeze is still chilly
and the surface of the lake
is still draped in a mysterious mist
You could spend an afternoon
when shadows are short,
and sun hangs high above
making every wavelets glimmer
Water is always crystal clear
still, it will never be known
what secrets stay unrevealed
and depth, you can just attempt a guess
On a moonlit nights
its quite a different place altogather:
You'd see strange shapes never seen before
forming and melting there on darkened surface
Its not about just the ripples on the lake,
sounds or shapes, imagined or real
Its about just being there
letting your thoughts discover its own depth
sit there, spend couple of hours
in a mountain silence
enjoy few breaths of pure air
You could be there in early mornings
when gentle breeze is still chilly
and the surface of the lake
is still draped in a mysterious mist
You could spend an afternoon
when shadows are short,
and sun hangs high above
making every wavelets glimmer
Water is always crystal clear
still, it will never be known
what secrets stay unrevealed
and depth, you can just attempt a guess
On a moonlit nights
its quite a different place altogather:
You'd see strange shapes never seen before
forming and melting there on darkened surface
Its not about just the ripples on the lake,
sounds or shapes, imagined or real
Its about just being there
letting your thoughts discover its own depth
The King of a Mango Orchard
Running around bare feet in my shorts
amongst the mango trees
The green mangoes down so low
that I reach up take a small bite
and leave a mango still hanging there
The fences around the orchard
I am sure are meant to keep
the cows and buffaloes strolling in
I can find my way inside
easily from any tiny breach
Peacocks, parrots and koels
all feast on mangoes, as free as me
Sitting up high in mighty tamarind tree
I survey the grandeur of my kingdom
mighty pleased with what I see
The smell of mango and tamarind flowers
in cool gentle summer breeze
feel of watered ground on my feet
lazying there listening to the music of birds
in shades of these mighty trees
There's could be nothing more in this world
that I can ask than this
amongst the mango trees
The green mangoes down so low
that I reach up take a small bite
and leave a mango still hanging there
The fences around the orchard
I am sure are meant to keep
the cows and buffaloes strolling in
I can find my way inside
easily from any tiny breach
Peacocks, parrots and koels
all feast on mangoes, as free as me
Sitting up high in mighty tamarind tree
I survey the grandeur of my kingdom
mighty pleased with what I see
The smell of mango and tamarind flowers
in cool gentle summer breeze
feel of watered ground on my feet
lazying there listening to the music of birds
in shades of these mighty trees
There's could be nothing more in this world
that I can ask than this
The Story teller and flip of a coin.
It's been five long years
when the coin decided
to flip the other way
I couldn't believe it then,
that flip would be the other way.
The coin, what was in its mind?
The story teller has till now
churned out thousands different stories,
all could have had different tales to tell.
The flip has now left me
with dreams all covered in dust,
regrets and no regrets,
The story teller tells me
I may have five more years
and may be five more after that
he is not certain though
what stories are in store after that
The coin, what is in its mind?
The story teller takes out the coin
as it's time for another flip
he asks me again this time
what I want it to be
If wishes were chocolate candy
I'd have whichever I liked.
Oh story teller, please this time
could you make the coin listen to me?
last time the coin seemed
to have a mind of its own.
The story teller just smiled at me
and flipped the coin up in the air.
when the coin decided
to flip the other way
I couldn't believe it then,
that flip would be the other way.
The coin, what was in its mind?
The story teller has till now
churned out thousands different stories,
all could have had different tales to tell.
The flip has now left me
with dreams all covered in dust,
regrets and no regrets,
The story teller tells me
I may have five more years
and may be five more after that
he is not certain though
what stories are in store after that
The coin, what is in its mind?
The story teller takes out the coin
as it's time for another flip
he asks me again this time
what I want it to be
If wishes were chocolate candy
I'd have whichever I liked.
Oh story teller, please this time
could you make the coin listen to me?
last time the coin seemed
to have a mind of its own.
The story teller just smiled at me
and flipped the coin up in the air.
Tonight I Felt like God
The sky tonight was
lit up in supernal fireworks.
Lightening zapped from all directions.
It was one hallowed show.
Not a single moment passed
when lightening was not seen weaving
the darkened sky.
Oh how can I tell you of my joy
of seeing amazing diamonds
in all different colours there are
as far as eyes could see:
The rain drops suspended
caught in a flashy fleeting moment.
The diamonds had the life of their own.
They danced a divine dance.
A dance to the magical symphony.
The symphony of thunder's rumble,
a rumble as deep as a million cellos,
playing from soul's depth
and percussion of falling rain drops
in the little puddles,
and bouncing off the every leaf
of every trees in the garden.
And wind, how can it not join in
and play heavenly flutes?
Yes tonight I feel like God
for who else could this celestial show unfold?
lit up in supernal fireworks.
Lightening zapped from all directions.
It was one hallowed show.
Not a single moment passed
when lightening was not seen weaving
the darkened sky.
Oh how can I tell you of my joy
of seeing amazing diamonds
in all different colours there are
as far as eyes could see:
The rain drops suspended
caught in a flashy fleeting moment.
The diamonds had the life of their own.
They danced a divine dance.
A dance to the magical symphony.
The symphony of thunder's rumble,
a rumble as deep as a million cellos,
playing from soul's depth
and percussion of falling rain drops
in the little puddles,
and bouncing off the every leaf
of every trees in the garden.
And wind, how can it not join in
and play heavenly flutes?
Yes tonight I feel like God
for who else could this celestial show unfold?
What are those lines, on your face?
Words from a distance
carried to my ears:
A child asking an old man,
"what are those lines, on your face?"
Old man answered,
"That dear child
is the map of journeys
that I have undertaken".
The child curious, asked again,
"But why do they all criss and cross?"
Old man said with a smile in his voice,
"Oh, every road that I took
crossed every road that I took".
The child replied all knowingly,
"yes, like school to home
and home to the park,
and to the Vidhya's house".
carried to my ears:
A child asking an old man,
"what are those lines, on your face?"
Old man answered,
"That dear child
is the map of journeys
that I have undertaken".
The child curious, asked again,
"But why do they all criss and cross?"
Old man said with a smile in his voice,
"Oh, every road that I took
crossed every road that I took".
The child replied all knowingly,
"yes, like school to home
and home to the park,
and to the Vidhya's house".
Power of our words?
A good Doctor Masaru Emoto
experiments on water.
Filled up some bottles;
Labelled each
love, hate, compassion,
terror and greed.
To one called 'love',
he spoke of love
to one called 'hate',
he spoke with hate.
Thus with greed,
compassion and terror.
Freezing the water
looking through the scanner.
The crystals of love
shone bright as diamonds
Like a lotus were shining
the crystals of compassion.
Those that were called
hate, greed and terror
seemed all misshapen,
fearsome broken and lost.
Could this really be
the power of our words?
experiments on water.
Filled up some bottles;
Labelled each
love, hate, compassion,
terror and greed.
To one called 'love',
he spoke of love
to one called 'hate',
he spoke with hate.
Thus with greed,
compassion and terror.
Freezing the water
looking through the scanner.
The crystals of love
shone bright as diamonds
Like a lotus were shining
the crystals of compassion.
Those that were called
hate, greed and terror
seemed all misshapen,
fearsome broken and lost.
Could this really be
the power of our words?
So you are digging a hole for yourself, eh?
Now hear this
for it's the thing
you normally wouldn't come across
in your everyday talk.
So you want to dig
a hole for yourself,
dig it really really deep
and you never want to stop.
Let me tell you this
that if you keep digging
the most likely place you'd end
is a bottom of any ocean.
You might end up in China
or end up in Mongolia;
You might end up in Sahara
or even end up in Timbuktu.
If it's not your lucky day
you see, you could get stuck
in hot magma at the core.
So you still want to keep digging?
Note: If you think I am kidding, try it yourself here
for it's the thing
you normally wouldn't come across
in your everyday talk.
So you want to dig
a hole for yourself,
dig it really really deep
and you never want to stop.
Let me tell you this
that if you keep digging
the most likely place you'd end
is a bottom of any ocean.
You might end up in China
or end up in Mongolia;
You might end up in Sahara
or even end up in Timbuktu.
If it's not your lucky day
you see, you could get stuck
in hot magma at the core.
So you still want to keep digging?
Note: If you think I am kidding, try it yourself here
Bargain of a lifetime.
If you do not tell
the mother of a soldier
fallen in a war,
that war was fought
for a no good reason.
Fearing to take away
the pride from her sorrow.
Does that make a
good reason for war?
Hurry it's a bargain
we are told.
Take someone's life.
The life that's gone
could be of unknown,
it could be of
one of your own.
Isn't it a fair price:
A life for your pride?
Be proud little children
so what if you've lost dad.
You've got shiny medals
and your mother a flag.
There's no loss in any war:
Medals, flags, and gun salutes;
Pension and pride,
All at fair price.
That's a just bargain.
the mother of a soldier
fallen in a war,
that war was fought
for a no good reason.
Fearing to take away
the pride from her sorrow.
Does that make a
good reason for war?
Hurry it's a bargain
we are told.
Take someone's life.
The life that's gone
could be of unknown,
it could be of
one of your own.
Isn't it a fair price:
A life for your pride?
Be proud little children
so what if you've lost dad.
You've got shiny medals
and your mother a flag.
There's no loss in any war:
Medals, flags, and gun salutes;
Pension and pride,
All at fair price.
That's a just bargain.
Of upside-down world.
When you are down
and all stressed out,
try lifting the weight
of the whole world.
You'll soon realise
it's the same
as that carried
on your own two feet.
How do you carry
the weight of the world?
Just try standing
on your own head.
If you haven't noticed;
the world is doing just fine,
And creatures of this world
are all standing on their feet.
It's no wonder,
for those who carry around
the weight of the world,
world is all upside down.
If you didn't guess, this is about the preposterous assumption of mankind that they carry a weight of the world.
and all stressed out,
try lifting the weight
of the whole world.
You'll soon realise
it's the same
as that carried
on your own two feet.
How do you carry
the weight of the world?
Just try standing
on your own head.
If you haven't noticed;
the world is doing just fine,
And creatures of this world
are all standing on their feet.
It's no wonder,
for those who carry around
the weight of the world,
world is all upside down.
If you didn't guess, this is about the preposterous assumption of mankind that they carry a weight of the world.
Of smoke screen words and introspection.
Ever noticed 'smoke screen' words like 'they', 'them' 'maybe' and words suffixed with 'some'. Notice how those words lend wonderful ambiguity to spoken/written sentences, it's as good as saying absolutely nothing at all. Below is the poem about introspection.
Who are they?
Another mystery:
Could it be solved?
Finding an answer
to who are they?
They are the villians
in every story.
They are to blame
for all the crying shame.
Oh yes, they are bad
stealing every smiles,
found in their way.
Answer could lie
in this question:
Could that they
be THEMself?
Who are they?
Another mystery:
Could it be solved?
Finding an answer
to who are they?
They are the villians
in every story.
They are to blame
for all the crying shame.
Oh yes, they are bad
stealing every smiles,
found in their way.
Answer could lie
in this question:
Could that they
be THEMself?
Stressbuster
Just in case you’ve had a rough day, here’s a stress management technique recommended in all the latest psychological texts. The funny thing is that it really works…
1. Picture yourself near a stream.
2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air.
3. No one but you knows your secret place.
4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic place called “the world”
5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of
serenity.
6. The water is crystal clear.
7. You can easily make out the face of the person you’re holding underwater.
Disclaimer: Do NOT try the last step for real. (Found this on the net)
1. Picture yourself near a stream.
2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air.
3. No one but you knows your secret place.
4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic place called “the world”
5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a cascade of
serenity.
6. The water is crystal clear.
7. You can easily make out the face of the person you’re holding underwater.
Disclaimer: Do NOT try the last step for real. (Found this on the net)
Words about Truth
What Is Truth
It is the foundation of law
and the mystery of heart
and the reason why some have such strong opinions
It is the pulling of the soul
to a bigger goal
free of selfishness and delusions
If it's anything more than a love between mankind and God
when the times of testing come of our joy we shall be robbed
It teaches love for our nieghbors
and forgiveness for our foes
It shows us how we need to live
It gives practicals to guide
toward a conscience life
with a unity that is a mystery
If it's anything more than the debt we owe each other
we are destined to repeat the mistakes of our forefathers
There is more that I could say
and maybe I will one day
to those who want to hear of grace and love
I'll say for opinions sake
history's replete today
with hundreds of all kinds of religions
each man must wade through the waters of what may be truth
or invent within himself his own rules
be careful what you do
don't build a church that does not have truth
"What is truth"
I leave to you a mystery
a poem an analogy
I leave you what is plain to see
a forest hidden before trees
A message few have figured out
I leave you what we speak about
we teach our children not to steal
and tell them how to be for real
and show them by our faithfulness
a love that's full of righteousness
when we forgive the wrongs they've done
and show them how to overcome
the simple things that hold us back
and fill in them what we too lack
when pride and fear get in the way
causing our core to dissipate
then spiralling toward pleasure's end
we kill our little innocence
by doing what is obvious
I need not explain this
we all know what is wrong
we all know how to be strong
we make up our own excuse
and just like Pilate ask "What is truth"
Written by Archie Brown
It is the foundation of law
and the mystery of heart
and the reason why some have such strong opinions
It is the pulling of the soul
to a bigger goal
free of selfishness and delusions
If it's anything more than a love between mankind and God
when the times of testing come of our joy we shall be robbed
It teaches love for our nieghbors
and forgiveness for our foes
It shows us how we need to live
It gives practicals to guide
toward a conscience life
with a unity that is a mystery
If it's anything more than the debt we owe each other
we are destined to repeat the mistakes of our forefathers
There is more that I could say
and maybe I will one day
to those who want to hear of grace and love
I'll say for opinions sake
history's replete today
with hundreds of all kinds of religions
each man must wade through the waters of what may be truth
or invent within himself his own rules
be careful what you do
don't build a church that does not have truth
"What is truth"
I leave to you a mystery
a poem an analogy
I leave you what is plain to see
a forest hidden before trees
A message few have figured out
I leave you what we speak about
we teach our children not to steal
and tell them how to be for real
and show them by our faithfulness
a love that's full of righteousness
when we forgive the wrongs they've done
and show them how to overcome
the simple things that hold us back
and fill in them what we too lack
when pride and fear get in the way
causing our core to dissipate
then spiralling toward pleasure's end
we kill our little innocence
by doing what is obvious
I need not explain this
we all know what is wrong
we all know how to be strong
we make up our own excuse
and just like Pilate ask "What is truth"
Written by Archie Brown
Story of a pair of shoes
Buying a pair of new shoes
I never know what to expect
Walking in a shoe shop
like 'love-at-first-sight'
there I find my brand new pair
Pleased with my new purchase
I take them out for a walk
a walk with proud strides.
Look, how everyone gives
them an envious stares.
'Love' blooms as I wear,
my friends, my companions,
for travels far and wide.
Scruffs and scratches
from many a mountain climbs
and sand from the beaches
all over, and in my shoes.
All sweet memories
of those places.
Togather we have some real wild time.
But it's all too soon
when its time to buy a new pair
I feel quite sad for my old shoes
for I love them
and don't want to lose them.
They are now, all tattered and torn;
everyone gives them
a wierd stare.
They've served well.
Rest in peace my old friends.
Ah, my pride, my new pair...
I never know what to expect
Walking in a shoe shop
like 'love-at-first-sight'
there I find my brand new pair
Pleased with my new purchase
I take them out for a walk
a walk with proud strides.
Look, how everyone gives
them an envious stares.
'Love' blooms as I wear,
my friends, my companions,
for travels far and wide.
Scruffs and scratches
from many a mountain climbs
and sand from the beaches
all over, and in my shoes.
All sweet memories
of those places.
Togather we have some real wild time.
But it's all too soon
when its time to buy a new pair
I feel quite sad for my old shoes
for I love them
and don't want to lose them.
They are now, all tattered and torn;
everyone gives them
a wierd stare.
They've served well.
Rest in peace my old friends.
Ah, my pride, my new pair...
What is death? (poetic retake)
I could say
death is nothingness,
an infinite void, and such.
Well, that may not be true.
Being alive, I'd never know
what it is, 'being dead'.
Not in a hurry
to acquaint myself with it.
There would be a time for that
Don't they say it's inevitable?
Whenever it is,
'tis just not yet.
Company of it,
would surely be pleasant
after all I am to spend
'forever' with it.
If it's not so pleasant?
Well, I'd be too dead to care.
death is nothingness,
an infinite void, and such.
Well, that may not be true.
Being alive, I'd never know
what it is, 'being dead'.
Not in a hurry
to acquaint myself with it.
There would be a time for that
Don't they say it's inevitable?
Whenever it is,
'tis just not yet.
Company of it,
would surely be pleasant
after all I am to spend
'forever' with it.
If it's not so pleasant?
Well, I'd be too dead to care.
Searching Sublimity.
Achieve a greatness of the stature
that troubles all seem so small.
Achieve a greatness of the spirit
that hurt is just a word.
Achieve the thoughts so calm and pure
that despair find no place for sure.
Let that be your starting point
to conquer a thousand happier worlds.
Let the lovely flowers bloom
every place you land your step.
Let the wisdom shine so bright
in every word that you take.
Be that whisp of scent
that's not so easily forgotten.
Be a harbinger of smiles
that spreads solace far and wide.
Be all that what you want to be
and let all that things be you.
that troubles all seem so small.
Achieve a greatness of the spirit
that hurt is just a word.
Achieve the thoughts so calm and pure
that despair find no place for sure.
Let that be your starting point
to conquer a thousand happier worlds.
Let the lovely flowers bloom
every place you land your step.
Let the wisdom shine so bright
in every word that you take.
Be that whisp of scent
that's not so easily forgotten.
Be a harbinger of smiles
that spreads solace far and wide.
Be all that what you want to be
and let all that things be you.
Animal kingdom
In my room
with me, lives,
spiders, lizards and mosquitoes
In my backyard
lives a frog, he hops everywhere
and eats cockroaches
There're some sparrows
who come and visit
every now and then
And, yes, there is,
a one eyed cat, who gets in my kitchen
and a mouse too who lives there
There is a cow
who goes around knocking every door
asking for food, thats true
Every now and then
dogs, pigs and even donkeys
stroll my street
Very rarely
a whole lot of monkeys
come on my terrace
Once, I even caught
a snake
from my front yard
There used to be
many pigeons
but, I havent seen them for long
Where are crows?
and butterflies?
Where are all the peacocks?
spiders, lizards
and the frog
they dont bother me ever
mosqitoes, they bite sometimes
I wish
they wouldnt do that
I hung a shoe box
outside my house, for sparrows
I thought, they'd nest there, they didn't
spiders, ants, mosquitoes
frogs, rats, lizards
sparrows, cats and monkeys
Do I live in their kingdom
or they in mine?
I am not sure which.
with me, lives,
spiders, lizards and mosquitoes
In my backyard
lives a frog, he hops everywhere
and eats cockroaches
There're some sparrows
who come and visit
every now and then
And, yes, there is,
a one eyed cat, who gets in my kitchen
and a mouse too who lives there
There is a cow
who goes around knocking every door
asking for food, thats true
Every now and then
dogs, pigs and even donkeys
stroll my street
Very rarely
a whole lot of monkeys
come on my terrace
Once, I even caught
a snake
from my front yard
There used to be
many pigeons
but, I havent seen them for long
Where are crows?
and butterflies?
Where are all the peacocks?
spiders, lizards
and the frog
they dont bother me ever
mosqitoes, they bite sometimes
I wish
they wouldnt do that
I hung a shoe box
outside my house, for sparrows
I thought, they'd nest there, they didn't
spiders, ants, mosquitoes
frogs, rats, lizards
sparrows, cats and monkeys
Do I live in their kingdom
or they in mine?
I am not sure which.
Just passing from here
Doing
The Work that I like to
When I want to
Many things there yet that I want to
Going
Go see places
Not always where I want to
and When I want to
Sleeping
I close my eyes
This music sounds so good
I can be any place, I want to
Being
Just being myself
all the time
here and everywhere
Caring
Don't care really
for any hurt, I don't want to
I never mean to
Pausing
once in a while
Admire, the way everything seems
all the treasures around me
Stopping
Let the new beginings to catch up
Reflect, gather that I want to
map out to where I am going to.
The Work that I like to
When I want to
Many things there yet that I want to
Going
Go see places
Not always where I want to
and When I want to
Sleeping
I close my eyes
This music sounds so good
I can be any place, I want to
Being
Just being myself
all the time
here and everywhere
Caring
Don't care really
for any hurt, I don't want to
I never mean to
Pausing
once in a while
Admire, the way everything seems
all the treasures around me
Stopping
Let the new beginings to catch up
Reflect, gather that I want to
map out to where I am going to.
Writer's Curse.
That time of a day,
If you can call that 'day',
early hours of the morning,
very end of the day.
When you are dazed,
warm bosom of sleep
about to embrace.
You are almost there.
Little seeds
of inspirations
start to explode
crescendo at the edge of chimera
of rhuburb between
the sleep and thoughts.
What shall it be,
words or dreams?
If you can call that 'day',
early hours of the morning,
very end of the day.
When you are dazed,
warm bosom of sleep
about to embrace.
You are almost there.
Little seeds
of inspirations
start to explode
crescendo at the edge of chimera
of rhuburb between
the sleep and thoughts.
What shall it be,
words or dreams?
Experimenting with the design of this page.
Some cool new stuff added today, such as clicking on comment opens the comments on this page itself. Sidebar now has rss/myyahoo subcription thingy, you can click on the icon to subscribe either via a news reader or yahoo.
Firefox too has a cool feature you can click on 'Live Bookmark' icon at the bottom of your browser window, no need to come to this page to find out if there's anything new, you would be able to see changes live in your firefox bookmark. I don't recommend using internet explorer so have no idea if that supports live bookmarks.
Another thing I changed in the sidebar is the list of visitors who have posted comments and links to their profile. Do visit their blogs and leave comments there.
Also in the sidebar is the list of last 10 posts.
In case you come and visit this page, I'd appreciate if you leave your feedback, that way I would be able to see your page too.
Firefox too has a cool feature you can click on 'Live Bookmark' icon at the bottom of your browser window, no need to come to this page to find out if there's anything new, you would be able to see changes live in your firefox bookmark. I don't recommend using internet explorer so have no idea if that supports live bookmarks.
Another thing I changed in the sidebar is the list of visitors who have posted comments and links to their profile. Do visit their blogs and leave comments there.
Also in the sidebar is the list of last 10 posts.
In case you come and visit this page, I'd appreciate if you leave your feedback, that way I would be able to see your page too.
Little people
Few little people
got togather
and made a club
More little people joined them
and eventually there were billions of them
All sorts of little people
of all colours and sizes.
Some liked to travel
so they formed their own group
Some liked doing stuff
and they formed their own group
Some liked to run kitchen
to feed all the billions
And they too formed their own group
There were many more little people
Who were doing their own stuff
and had their own clubs.
Initially for few years
There was no trouble
when the little people
could go wherever they wanted
and the little people
who liked doing stuff
could do whatever they wanted.
Few little people decided
that they should take charge
and tell all the other littled people
what they should do and where they could go
So sometimes all the little people were happy
when they got to do what they wanted to do
and some times they were not so happy
when those little people who were incharge
made all the other little people
do the stuff they didn't like.
They got along just fine for quite some time
Till the little people in charge
pushed rest of them on too hard
And then came one day
They were all very sad
and decided the that is that
they'd all go their own way.
* The above story is of a human mind and body, but please feel free to equate it to anything you see fit. It surely applies to many things.
got togather
and made a club
More little people joined them
and eventually there were billions of them
All sorts of little people
of all colours and sizes.
Some liked to travel
so they formed their own group
Some liked doing stuff
and they formed their own group
Some liked to run kitchen
to feed all the billions
And they too formed their own group
There were many more little people
Who were doing their own stuff
and had their own clubs.
Initially for few years
There was no trouble
when the little people
could go wherever they wanted
and the little people
who liked doing stuff
could do whatever they wanted.
Few little people decided
that they should take charge
and tell all the other littled people
what they should do and where they could go
So sometimes all the little people were happy
when they got to do what they wanted to do
and some times they were not so happy
when those little people who were incharge
made all the other little people
do the stuff they didn't like.
They got along just fine for quite some time
Till the little people in charge
pushed rest of them on too hard
And then came one day
They were all very sad
and decided the that is that
they'd all go their own way.
* The above story is of a human mind and body, but please feel free to equate it to anything you see fit. It surely applies to many things.
White, Greys and Black
White, greys and black
are they all
shades of white?
or are they
all shades of black?
I'd say
They're all shades of grey.
Are they?
are they all
shades of white?
or are they
all shades of black?
I'd say
They're all shades of grey.
Are they?
What is life?
Here's a secret,
an answer
to the big question;
every philosopher seeks
What is life?
The life is...
an interesting break
from boring,
infinite monotony-
of being dead.
Yes my dear friends
thats what it is.
an answer
to the big question;
every philosopher seeks
What is life?
The life is...
an interesting break
from boring,
infinite monotony-
of being dead.
Yes my dear friends
thats what it is.
Implosion
The journey begins
with a gentle whisper.
The soundscape unfolds
gently at first
taking me higher and higher
My psychedelia.
Floating, levitating;
at the horizon
of living and dead.
Thunders reverberating
from the other side
begining of this annhilation.
with a gentle whisper.
The soundscape unfolds
gently at first
taking me higher and higher
My psychedelia.
Floating, levitating;
at the horizon
of living and dead.
Thunders reverberating
from the other side
begining of this annhilation.
Mathematical Problem
Whilst making love a necklace broke.
A row of pearls mislaid.
One sixth fell to the floor.
One fifth upon the bed.
The young woman saved one third of them.
One tenth were caught by her lover.
If six pearls remained upon the string
How many pearls were there altogether?
-- Bhaskaracharya
On a side note, the answer is 30 pearls because where
x represents the original number of pearls on the
necklace:
6+(x/6)+(x/5)+(x/3)+(x/10)=x
(6/x)+(1/6)+(1/5)+(1/3)+(1/10)=1
(36/x)+1+(6/5)+2+(3/5)=6
(36/x)+3+(9/5)=6
(180/x)+24=30
(180/x)=6
x=30
* All the Indian mathematical work is in the form of verse, called 'sutras', they are in sanskrit, an ancient Indian language. The language lends itself beautifully to poetry. In fact all form of sciences such as medicine, astronomy etc are also in form of poetry. Wish our schools these days would teach maths as above.
A row of pearls mislaid.
One sixth fell to the floor.
One fifth upon the bed.
The young woman saved one third of them.
One tenth were caught by her lover.
If six pearls remained upon the string
How many pearls were there altogether?
-- Bhaskaracharya
On a side note, the answer is 30 pearls because where
x represents the original number of pearls on the
necklace:
6+(x/6)+(x/5)+(x/3)+(x/10)=x
(6/x)+(1/6)+(1/5)+(1/3)+(1/10)=1
(36/x)+1+(6/5)+2+(3/5)=6
(36/x)+3+(9/5)=6
(180/x)+24=30
(180/x)=6
x=30
* All the Indian mathematical work is in the form of verse, called 'sutras', they are in sanskrit, an ancient Indian language. The language lends itself beautifully to poetry. In fact all form of sciences such as medicine, astronomy etc are also in form of poetry. Wish our schools these days would teach maths as above.
oh yes
Oh yes
there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.
-- Charles Bukowski
there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.
-- Charles Bukowski
Poem to be read at 3 a.m.
Poem to be read at 3 a.m.
Excepting the diner
On the outskirts.
The town of Ladora
At 3 a.m.
Was dark but
For my headlights
And up in
One second-story room
A single light
Where someone
Was sick or
Perhaps reading
As I drove past
At seventy
Not thinking.
This poem
Is for whoever
Had the light on
-- Donald Justice
Excepting the diner
On the outskirts.
The town of Ladora
At 3 a.m.
Was dark but
For my headlights
And up in
One second-story room
A single light
Where someone
Was sick or
Perhaps reading
As I drove past
At seventy
Not thinking.
This poem
Is for whoever
Had the light on
-- Donald Justice
Morphing through time
We are floating over the line
Let us follow our mind
All of our life we'll wait for the answer
and the question is why
We're just travellers
in endless space
If we're following our mind
We can glide into light
No one knows if there'll be an answer
While we're morphing thru time
*From a song of a same title by Enigma
Let us follow our mind
All of our life we'll wait for the answer
and the question is why
We're just travellers
in endless space
If we're following our mind
We can glide into light
No one knows if there'll be an answer
While we're morphing thru time
*From a song of a same title by Enigma
Black Scroll
So does it shock you?
or are you pleased?
Now that I have got your attention
may be I'd get the answer too.
Welcome to this accidental discovery
tell me what does your heart say
Does it make you stop
and think for a while?
What do you see?
is everything all hazy
or clear as glass?
may be you want to close your eyes for a bit.
or are you pleased?
Now that I have got your attention
may be I'd get the answer too.
Welcome to this accidental discovery
tell me what does your heart say
Does it make you stop
and think for a while?
What do you see?
is everything all hazy
or clear as glass?
may be you want to close your eyes for a bit.
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