And when the hourglass has run out, the hourglass of temporality, when the noise of secular life has grown silent and its restless or ineffectual activism has come to an end, when everything around you is still, as it is in eternity, then eternity asks you and every individual in these millions and millions about only one thing: whether you have lived in despair or not.
Kierkegaard in The Sickness Unto Death
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Love's Hourglass
Times goes through
The hourglass
Telling me that you
From this moment's place
In time, will soon will pass.
Love goes through
No hourglass
And I believe that this is true
When all else goes away-
That love is for us
Take care then
And remember
Hold on to that hourglass
For eternity is a forever
That our love will surpass.
Copyright Cynthia Buhain
April14,2010
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Hour Glass Man
Make the grade and fail the class
take the test and do your best
watch you burn you life away
buried in the hourglass
you can open up your mind
everybody's teaching you
trying to tell you what to do
if you listen you will find
that you can open up your mind
you can open up your mind
and I just can't wait for another day
and I can't sleep cause I'm to afraid
and I don't know where I'm gawn end up next
the hourglass man
has gone away
the hourglass man he's in the sand he's in the sand yeah
the hourglass man is buried in the hourglass
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd from Abrasive
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By: Adam M. Snow
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
For time will soon cease and end in fear;
for they would come and disappear.
The hourglass falls at the end;
for there will be no one left to befriend.
When the last sand falls;
the writings will be shown on the walls.
The hourglass shown thy pain;
for the light will soon rain.
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Variations On Nothing
That negligible bit of sand which slides
Without a sound and settles in the hourglass,
And the fleeting impressions on the fleshy-pink,
The perishable fleshy-pink, of a cloud...
Then a hand that turns over the hourglass,
The going back for flowing back, of sand,
The quiet silvering of a cloud
In the first few lead-gray seconds of dawn...
The hand in shadow turned the hourglass,
And the negligible bit of sand which slides
And is silent, is the only thing now heard,
And, being heard, doesn't vanish in the dark.
poem by Giuseppe Ungaretti
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Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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There Have Been Millions And Millions Of Years
THERE HAVE BEEN MILLIONS AND MILLIONS OF YEARS
There have been millions and millions of years
And there will be millions and millions more
And I have had only less than seventy-
There is so much to see and be and know
I could understand far more than I do now
I have so much beauty and hope and love in me
Why do I have to die?
It does not seem fair or wise
So much waste and loss in my dying
Worlds in me that will never be known.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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That Millions Do Live In Poverty
That millions do live in poverty should never be seen as okay
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps getting bigger by the day
Everyone should have the chance to live happy a home to live in and enough for to eat
There never should be slums and ghettos and never a poverty street,
That millions are born to live in poverty and to end their hard lives in despair
Only tells us if there's a god that god favours the wealthy and that god is not very fair
To leave millions homeless and dying of malnutrition the people condemned to die poor and young
In the refugee camps of the World live the displaced, the poor and unsung,
In the age of celebrity worship the poor in millions multiply
Why millions are destined to be poor don't ask me I wouldn't know why
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries poor people are no longer rare
And millions and millions of have nots in the bigger World out there
And millions are dying of hunger and millions are doing it tough
And millions are displaced and homeless and as refugees living it rough.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Millions of water drops
drops of water
millions of drops
Falling down the rocks
Millions of water drops
Glittering in the sun
Shining like pearls
Millions of water drops
Ending as a river
Finding way to ocean
Millions of water drops
Creating childrens happiness
Laughter and joyfullness
Millions of water drops
Soon will tide reach
White long shores
Millions of water drops
Animating Waves
into forming caves
Millions of water drops
splittering from above
till reaching top of the hill
Millions of water drops
Without them no sound
No whispers of the living
Millions of water drops
Watch the clearness
From crest to earth
Millions of water drops
For tribe’s best
Beware of waste
Millions of water drops
Treasured should they be
As belonging to all humanity
(march 2008, Switzerland)
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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Where Spring, the lord of the seasons
Where Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth,
there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself,
There the streams of light flow in all directions;
Few are the men who can cross to that shore!
There, where millions of Krishnas stand with hands folded,
Where millions of Vishnus bow their heads,
Where millions of Brahmas are reading the Vedas,
Where millions of Shivas are lost in contemplation,
Where millions of Indras dwell in the sky,
Where the demi-gods and the munis are unnumbered,
Where millions of Saraswatis, Goddess of Music, play on the veena
There is my Lord self-revealed:
and the scent of sandal and flowers dwells in those deeps.
I wrote and produced millions and millions of selling records, so my publishing company alone was worth millions of dollars. I didn't have to work anymore in life because when the rappers started sampling... I'm the most sampled artist in history.
quote by Rick James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They offered me millions and millions and millions of dollars to write books about Cary. That was between us. That was private. I'll always love him.
quote by Dyan Cannon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There Is No Such Thing As An Individual
She looked at me
and asked.
'What is your answer? '
I was startled
and caught up short.
Simple question.
But I did not know
what the answer was.
'Who am I'?
I blurted out
vying for time;
I gave her my name
narrowing it to the millions
of Jim Jones in the world.
But am I my name?
She said
What else.?
'I am Hedi's Father
and Lisa's husband'
but before this response rolled away
into silence
I knew it wasn't enough.
So who else?
'I like hockey' I said
and knew even this
fell short.
How do I single out
the Me among millions?
What could I say
without out offering
fingerprints or DNA?
What would you say?
Maybe I should have given her
an address.
Only I live there.
But my address
is not my essence.
So who
in fact
is the I-
the me,
that I see-
as individual
and precious?
I really didn't
at that point
have an answer.
What about achievements?
.
How many individuals have
my job
and my name?
Fewer still.
This at least narrows it.
But then
the thought came;
I am not an individual.
I am the Me that
has a family and a history
a genealogy;
only me
has that.
I am not an individual
but a person
who can be identified
in the web of relationships
which surround me;
have surrounded me;
which in the end
have defined me.
I am not an individual.
I am all the people who
have influenced me-
nurtured me been kind to me or hurtful.
So there is then
this myth of the individual
which is not so.
But if this is not true
is it not so that much
of society and indeed Democracy itself
is premised
on the creating the conditions
for individual expression;
individual growth?
Is this premise correct
and the individual lives;
or is it that more real
is society and social relationships.?
So which is which?
But then again, one cannot touch society.
Confusing no?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Until
If I caught the world in a bottle
and everything was still beneath the moon
Without your love would it shine for me?
If I was smart as Aristotle
and understood the rings around the moon
what would it all matter if you loved me?
In your arms the where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms, when everything seems to be clear
Not a solit'ry thing would I fear
Except when this moment
comes near the dancings' end
If I caught the world in an hourglass
that loved the moon
so we could ride until the stars grew dim
Until
One day, you'll meet a stranger
and all the noise is silenced in the room
You'll feel that you're close to some mystery
In the moonlight, when everything shadows you
You feel as if you've known her all your life
The worlds' oldest lesson in history
Here in your arms, where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfill
And a matter of moments until the dancing ends
Here in your arms, everything seems to be clear
Not a solit'ry thing do I fear
Except when this moment comes near the dancings' end
If I caught the world in an hourglass
and up the moon we would ride
until the stars grew dim
Until the time that time stands still
Until
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Long Rows
Millions and millions of crosses
standing in long rows.
Standing as a testament
of man’s inhumanity to man.
Their ages range low to high,
all casualties of a war
in which they answered
their counties call.
Their kin are long dead now,
but the crosses all bare a name
of someone who had they lived
might have gained fame
in another game.
However, here they lie
where the pretty flowers grow
after giving up their life
for their country.
Some are remembered
even to this day
for their acts of courage
others knew so well.
The others are just names
carved in memorials somewhere
as falling in a battle on a foreign soil.
All of them had a life
men, women and child alike.
A life they should have lived
and lived it to the full.
Now all they remain
is names on crosses
standing in long rows.
22 January 2008
This is for all those whose lives have been stolen in wars throughout the centuries.
poem by David Harris
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From The Void To Overjoyed
In the beginning the Lord created a great deep,
So deep that no eye saw anything but obscurity.
This deep we now by name call the heavens,
Accompanied by the creation of great vacancy
A formless void that is uninterrupted by shapes.
It is the undefinable foundation for that yet to form,
A place we now think of as the planet earth,
Which passed the tests of the primeval, perfect storm.
Now with this creation comes the beginning of time,
And for measurement a transparent hourglass,
With an exact amount of sand enclosed within,
Which has until this moment been at an impasse.
Not a grain has been able to pass the constriction,
Until the Creator has commanded it to go.
As the primal beauty comes into existence,
Change enacts sand to fall in the chamber below.
With the passage of time within the hourglass
The Lord’s creation enlarges and expands;
It becomes the abode for another creation
The harvest of the Lord’s desires becomes Man.
To Man the hourglass is a no longer fashionable,
And it may even seem to be ruling his day.
So he looks to the Lord for a savior
For someone who-win or lose-will want to play.
The solution from the LORD is Woman,
A helpmate fashioned of Man’s own bone.
His dream has become his reward,
And She seems even better than homegrown.
Her figure is the perfect hourglass,
And her countenance is a bonny display.
Plainly It seems Man never saw the lady coming,
Since his plain morning bird became his bird of prey.
poem by Albert Price
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Production Process Inefficiencies
millions die wanting
millions die starving
millions die hurting
in an inefficient world?
now it is raining
luxury fruits
cherries peaches
blemish on trees
never sold
never eaten
never saves lives
harvest
process
efficiency
serves
needy
hungry
populati ons
poem by Terence George Craddock
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We don't make movies for critics. I've done four movies; there's millions upon millions upon millions of people who've paid to see them. Somebody likes them. My greatest joy is to sit anonymously in a dark theater and watch it with an audience, a paying audience.
quote by Michael Bay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eternity
I, follower of foolish
maker of mistake
stumbler at the gate
Blinded by the night
maker of the left
from the right
I caught the every thing
of eternity
but just not fast enough
Flash - here and gone
for that is all
That eternity is
A moment seized
like air gone
and it flies off forever
And if you are looking
for eternity it has
found you and already fled
July 18,2012
poem by Midnights Voice
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Here To Eternity
(r. stewart, k. savigar)
On a hot summers night
In the year of 75
Jimmy doyle took his child bride
Amanda, for a drive
She was only seventeen
He just lived to see her smile
Their commitment to each other
Burned like a forest fire
Otis on the radio singing stand by me
As a trooper pulled them over
And said jimmy where you been
Someone matching your description
Has just robbed the liquor store
Amanda said hes been with me
But they werent listening anymore
Down at precinct number five
They questioned jimmy through the night
The sheriff said hes gotta stand trial
Armed robbery is the charge
Amanda said this cannot be
Gonna stay right here until you set him free
And I love him
Here to eternity
Forever
Unto eternity
Oh God gave me something
I must hold on to
Gonna hold on him
No matter what you do
The old courthouse was crowded
As the judge reviewed the case
In a year of re-election
He was desperate to impress
Innocent or guilty
He saw an opportunity
To send jimmy down for life
To the penitentiary
Disbelief and anger
As they dragged him away
In a cell below the courthouse
They beat him like a slave
But his use of martial arts
Struck a blow for liberty
Felled a guard with a fist of iron
And killed him instantly
All the press surrounded amanda
Coming down the courthouse steps
Pleading for her young mans life
And in a moment seen by millions
She bowed her head and cried
Show my man some mercy
Hes the father of my child
I love him
Here to eternity
Forever
Unto eternity
Oh God gave me something
I must hold on to
Gonna hold on him
No matter what you do
I love him
Here to eternity
Jimmy doyle appeared again
In a second public trail
For the murder of a prison guard
They sentenced him to die
But amanda with her long red hair
Made one last plea
As the court fell into silence
She cried out desperately
This man of mine is innocent
As one day I shall prove
Its an open case of self defense
All this circumstantial evidence
You place before your court
Has robbed me of my husband
Forget I will not
I love him
Here to eternity
Forever
Unto eternity
Oh goodbye my jimmy
til we meet again
In a better world than this
I swear Ill clear your name
cos I love you
Here to eternity
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happiness Of A Man
Happiness of a man is not in possibility to chose a woman out of a million,
Happiness of a man is in possibility to allow himself to be with the only loved one.
Out of millions there are hundreds of beauties.
Out of millions there are hundreds of jealous.
Out of millions there are hundreds of desirable.
But… they are not loved.
Out of millions there can be only one loved.
But… what happens in real life?
That one you really love is banned.
She is a wife of your friend,
She is banned by the time,
She is banned by the distance,
She is banned by the pride or prejudice or weakness.
Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
24th of August,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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