Death is an absolute mystery. We are all vulnerable to it, it's what makes life interesting and suspenseful.
quote by Jeanne Moreau
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter XCVIII: Absolutely Relative
Expensive is absolute, cheap is relative
Far is absolute, near is relative
Ugly is absolute, beauty is relative
Weird is absolute, crazy is relative
Stubborn is absolute, brave is relative
Stupid is absolute, smart is relative
Weak is absolute, strong is relative
Old is absolute, mature is relative
Lose is absolute, win is relative
Rich is absolute, poor is relative
Sad is absolute, happy is relative
Misfortune is absolute, lucky is relative
Safe is absolute, fear is relative
Love is absolute, hate is relative
Important is absolute, forgotten is relative
Easy is absolute, difficult is relative
Wrong is absolute, right is relative
Bad is absolute, good is relative
Lie is absolute, truth is relative
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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There is certainly no absolute standard of beauty. That precisely is what makes its pursuit so interesting.
quote by John Kenneth Galbraith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revulsion
Revulsion -
That is what I feel for you
The look of you,
The sight of you,
The thought of you
Injects in me –
Absolute Revulsion.
It is a feeling so Deep
I cannot puke it out
Even if I wish to…
So I keep taking it in
Nausea-ridden
All over my body,
Mind and heart…
That wretched feeling of
Absolute Revulsion.
It seeps in me
Soaks me in
Like blood-stained clothes
On a wounded body
And I lie there
Writhing in pain
Bleeding in agony
Almost anaemic…
With that sordid feeling of
Absolute Revulsion.
Living it everyday
Is like re-living death
In a lifeless body
Yet when death pities me
And comes to relieve me
Snuffing out the life
With its stroke of eternity
That day I die,
My dejected soul
Would bid you adieu,
With that lifetime feeling of
Absolute Revulsion.
Yes – that very Revulsion
Which eats into me
Like gnawing termites
With every memory of you
I have within me
It reminds me of my
Haunting past…
And I feel empty and hollow
Like rotting wood
And the stench of it
Makes me feel all the more
Sick and tired with
Absolute Revulsion –
For you, and you and only you.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Life or Death
Death is a mystery,
and life is Suspense.
The journey to death,
is unknown yet,
and Life is a dream stage.
Nobody has come back
From their death,
And life seems to be,
Chasing an invisible end.
Escape from death,
is impossible,
and so from Life.
Death is most painful,
Life is even more.
Death is frightful,
And Life is a puzzle.
So is life,
or Death,
better for a human fate?
poem by Pratisha Karki
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Absence of light
Absence of light
is not dark.
And in dark
one cannot see
not true.
Threat is there
death threat is
more there.
In death
no body knows
where to go
And here no
begining no end.
Not getting answer
relating to death
is not mystery.
Mystery is what
we see what we
touch what
we smell.
Mystery is we
all are here
at this time
in this light.
Mystery is
not dark
not death.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I thought I had a clear picture of death, but now I know it's a mystery and it will always be a mystery, although it is something we all have in common: everybody knows that life ends with death.
quote by Beth Gibbons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is old age, rather than death, that is to be contrasted with life. Old age is life's parody, whereas death transforms life into a destiny: in a way it preserves it by giving it the absolute dimension. Death does away with time.
quote by Simone de Beauvoir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The interesting thing about Bettie Page that I discovered was to leave the mystery. She always retained a little mystery. Let there be some unknowns.
quote by Gretchen Mol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We all need somebody to talk to. It would be good if we talked... not just pitter-patter, but real talk. We shouldn't be so afraid, because most people really like this contact; that you show you are vulnerable makes them free to be vulnerable.
quote by Liv Ullmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mystery Of You
What is it that makes a person unique?
It's what we refer to as a mystique.
Ah! the mystery surrounding each one
is as different as the moon and the sun.
Take a good look at those you see.
They're all so different, a complexity
of all sizes and shapes that help to make
our lives so amazing, like the snowflake.
No two alike will ever exist,
not even twins and there's the twist.
Why would anyone want to be
like someone else is beyond me?
Being yourself has got to be
the most interesting thing that sets you free.
You don't have to try to be who you're not.
This is what so many people forgot.
They knew it as children and savored the taste
and welcomed the difference in everyone's face.
But then as we grew and were taught a new tune,
our child like innocence fell into ruin.
We must relearn and keep in our mind
the more we are different, the more we will find
that no where on earth will there ever be
one that's like you. You're a mystery.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Mystic And The Realist
in his poem 'To the Cuckoo' Wordsworth described the bird as a mysterious thing
As if a bird's voice without a bird out of nowhere did sing
As he told he searched for the bird on bush and sky and tree
And yet that voice to him remained as a great mystery.
John Clare the poet from Helpston where he lived when he was young
Once got so close to the cuckoo that he even see her tongue
A leading student of Nature's ways Nature he did not mystify
He never told of searching for a mysterious bird in bush and tree and sky.
Poor John Clare had a mental illness by life he was given a raw deal
But he did see Nature for what she is he see Nature as real
The birds and animals that lived around him he intimately knew
And to the reality of Nature till death he remained true.
The Mystic and the Realist they see things differently
What was a real bird to one to the other was a mystery
What makes us all interesting is that we are more different even than we realize
And we see the World around us through very different eyes.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sweet Little Mystery
My love has taken a tumble
Oh, but Im still standing
Youre such a natural, sing,
Thats what you are
Say I wouldnt steer you wrong now baby
I wouldnt steer you wrong
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Didnt I come resisting this sight of wonder
Didnt I come insisting the higher decision
Didnt I come resisting this sight of wonder
To your life
Say I wouldnt steer you wrong now baby
I wouldnt steer you wrong
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Oh, just think of the magic ooh-ooh
Dont think it is tragic, hey hey hey
Just think of the magic
Come on listen
My love has taken a tumble
My love has taken a tumble
My love has taken a tumble
But Im still standing
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Its just that sweet little mystery
That makes me try, try, try, try
Come on listen
Try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try
Try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try, try
song performed by by Wet Wet Wet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are so many clues and feelings in the world that it makes a mystery and a mystery means there's a puzzle to be solved. Once you think like that you're hooked on probably finding a meaning, and there're many avenues in life where we're given little indications that the mystery can one day be solved. We get little proofs, — not the big proof — but the little proofs that keep us searching.
quote by David Lynch
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Challenges are what makes life interesting; overcoming them is what makes life meaningful.
quote by Joshua J. Marine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hero To You Not A Hero To Me
Suppose we all do look at things differently
The hero to you not a hero to me
Your hero renowned for his skills at football
Yet the hero to some not a hero to all
If on everything we did happen to agree
How utterly boring indeed we would be
Our different ways makes us more interesting as some like to say
No two look at life in exactly in the same way
You have your own hero and that suits me fine
But your sort of hero could never be mine
Of our different views on life I am all too aware
And so little in common we do have to share
We don't share common friends or we don't share common foes
Which makes us seem more interesting one would have to suppose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mysteries Revealed
Mysteries that men have heard, are revealed in God’s Word.
What were once mysteries, have been revealed for all to see.
The mystery of Jesus Christ, who’s the very Author of all life.
A mystery of purpose in Christ, how in Him we have New Life.
Another mystery of Jesus Christ, is how we gain Eternal Life.
There’s the mystery of Israel, and how they fit into God’s will.
Israel is hardened for awhile, so God can include the Gentile.
God didn’t forget the nation; they’re included in His Salvation.
By redemption in God’s Son, Jew and Gentile become one.
The mystery of The Gospel, and how in Christ it was fulfilled.
And the mystery of The Church; those in Christ by New Birth.
My Friend, not to be remiss, there’s the mystery of Godliness.
The mystery of His Revelation; an unveiling of God’s Salvation.
The mystery of end times friend; what God shall do in the end.
The mystery of hope in Glory; the purpose of the Gospel story.
Behold, I show you a mystery, one that every eye shall see.
Christians will not all see death, but be changed in a breath,
In the twinkling of an eye, they will see Christ, but will not die.
While men left upon the earth, will not see men of New Birth,
For only those men born again, shall be raptured in the end.
All the mysteries of past sages, are fulfilled in the Rock of Ages.
God spoke in prophets of old, in Christ fulfilled mysteries untold.
Christ’s Revelation revealed to all, redemption from Adam’s fall.
Christ revealed His Salvation, to every Jew and Gentile nation.
If you accept Christ as Lord, the mystery is a mystery no more.
Vulnerable
Everywhere I look I see her smile / her absent-minded eyes / and she has kept me wondering for so long / how this thing could go wrong.
It seems to me that we are both the same / playing the same game / but as darkness falls this true love falls apart / into a riddle of her heart.
Shes so vulnerable, like china in my hands / shes so vulnerable and I dont understand / I could never hurt the one I love / shes all Ive got / but shes so vulnerable / oh so vulnerable.
Days like these no one should be alone / no heart should hide away / her touch is gently conquering my mind / theres nothing words can say.
Shes coloured all the secrets of my soul / Ive whispered all my dreams / but just as nighttime falls this vision falls apart / into a riddle of her heart, yea.
Shes so vulnerable, like china in my hands / shes so vulnerable and I dont understand / I could never hurt someone I love / shes all Ive got / but shes so vulnerable / oh so vulnerable.
Dont hide your eyes...
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Not Knock
Born, and Death sits at his computer
gazing out a night window daydreaming.
So many thoughts from his day streaming
while the disk drive, full pails, with calculations.
Another tooth falls from Muerte's maw
silhouetting a profile more sinister.
Key clicks resound, pressed by bony paws,
In minuet sway, away from his ministry.
From dawn to dusk while in between;
the parenthetic moments,
from dust to dust life clays to be,
as we bereave the torments.
So sojourner sun, 'Of the Two horizons', genuflects with esteem,
So-so for Death, with eternal amounts of memory,
types absolute mystery narrative reams:
'Sus palabras mundos, facturación, entre un nacimiento y la morte'.
(His world's words, invoiced, 'between a birth and death.)
There’s something in your eyes
There’s something in your eyes
when I look at you
that makes me totally vulnerable
makes me realise how precious life,
my life with you is
that we are not extradited to this world
but sometimes find someone perfect
and when the wind pulls-pulls on your hair
a small frown begins between your eyes
against the bright light
I know how intense
my feelings for you have become.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Vulnerable And Defenceless Man Is
How vulnerable and defenceless man is
on the ways that we daily go,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
always busy with the details
that is beaconing his way in life.
How vulnerable and defenceless man is
far too easily hurt by his fellow-man
like a flower that far too easily whither and perishes,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
in the short scope of the earthly life
days and nights continue on and on.
How vulnerable and defenceless man is
too sentimental for every unfulfilled wish,
sometimes irresolute about the choices that lie before him,
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul
too easily wounded when somebody curses him
if he has got to take notice;
how vulnerable and defenceless man is
so curtailed to the border of his body and soul.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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