We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.
quote by Herman Melville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.
quote by Herman Melville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poetess and a silent shell
Hail a wave do come here
Give foam of sighs in mother’s milk
Hail a wave please no fear
Won’t touch your hidden fibers of silk
Your fibers smooth like sails
Of wind cast blown horizon blue
In shrieks of hungry gales
I’ll only whisper to you
Sky and earth again divide
New horizons of blue to spell
Remember from me no one can hide
In drops of water your silent shell
I used to live and breathe in it
Before you cast me on this sand
And left me silent webs to knit
In whispers of a newly born land
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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There is a new way with very very tiny fiber optics, which give an enormous high resolution. There are many many thousand fibers, very very close together with a very small diameter.
quote by Lennart Nilsson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The True Disciple (For Hune)
the true disciple,
wearing the robes of doubt...
dividing the atoms of the soul,
searching for fibers that connect.
exploring universes of question,
whetted by the blade of truth;
to immerse in 'i and thou'...
crossing the final desert
to the promised land!
the true disciple,
follows his own footsteps!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Endless Walk
walking cold to the bone in the rain
wind cuts like a knife in my skin
water drips off my face i look around to see
it's just me walking in the rain, my mind is full of clouds
i start to wonder why does it rain, why am i walking, how long has it been raining, how long have i been walking...
i look at my wrist to see there's no watch
i reach for my pocket to feel there's no pocket
except strings of fibers, fibers are all thats left
from what used to be clothing
my skin looks pale and is full of scars
i fall down on my knees it terrifies me to see the reflection in the puddle of water this is not the face i remember as my own
i stand up only to realise the street is not there
it's just a dark floor
i look around there's a wall on both sides
i look up to scream there's no sound only water that fills my eyes
before i can make sense of it my body starts to move
i'm walking again, where am i going, why can't i stop
poem by Paddy Jansen
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The fibers of all things have their tension and are strained like the strings of an instrument.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is easy to say how we love new friends, and what we think of them, but words can never trace out all the fibers that knit us to the old.
quote by George Eliot
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Reservations Confirmed
The ticket settles on my desk: a paper tongue
pronouncing "Go away;" a flattened seed
from which a thousand-mile leap through the air can grow.
It's pure potential: a vacation-to-be
the way an apple is a pie-to-be,
a bullet is a death-to-be. Or is the future
pressed into it inalterably—woven between
the slick fibers like secret threads
from the U.S. Treasury? Is my flight number
already flashing as cameras grind and the newly-
bereaved moan? Or does it gleam under Arrivals,
digits turned innocuous as those that didn't
win the raffle for a new Ford truck?
If, somewhere, I'm en route now, am I
praying the winged ballpoint I'm strapped into
will write on Denver's runway, "Safe and Sound"?
Was my pocket picked in Burbank,
and I've just noticed at thirty thousand feet?
Am I smiling, watching the clouds' icefields
melt to smoky wisps, revealing lakes
like Chinese dragons embroidered in blue below?
Lifting my ticket, do I hold a bon voyage,
or boiling jet streams, roaring thunderstorms,
the plane bounced like a boat on cast iron seas,
then the lightning flash, the dizzy plunge,
perfectly aware (amid the shrieks and prayers)
that, live or die, I won't survive the fall?
poem by Charles Harper Webb
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Tape is wonderful at preserving evidence - fingerprints, hairs, fibers. Tape preserves this, especially on the sticky side, even if the body's been out there for a year.
quote by Michael Baden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can't see the moon
the thin fibers that hold me together strain against the tautness
the weight becomes unbearable
and I can't see the moon
following the sting, and clouded by haze of my own making, I seek it
that feeling of discovery, of self worth
and I can't see the moon
wisps of smoke shelter me through the torrents
lost in agony, inconsolable
and I can't see the moon
darkness crowds the dark thoughts
suddenly you are out of reach
and I can't see the moon
life is just an illusion darling
but I'll believe you if you tell me it isn't so
yet I still can't see the moon
I lost my trust, but never should have
I am not the one you feel
and I can't see the moon
I thought I found you, but you weren't there at all
somehow you forget I am next to you. your beauty obscures
and I still can't see the moon
all the anger I have felt slips through my fingertips
live while you can
because I can't see the moon
paradise awaits on the other corner of life, knowing
if you love a lot you'll find strength to sing alone
and perhaps you will see the moon
there are a thousand things I want to say
but I can only think of one.
yet I still can't see the moon.
poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul
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Dirty Laundry
Household washing machines
spin cycle waste water churns out
potentially adverse Microplastic pollution
polyester acrylic debris
washing up shorelines worldwide
synthetic textile filaments
contaminate marine habitats
once ingested microplastics
persist in cells for months
moving up the food chain
after absorbing toxic chemicals
PCBs dioxins DDT
forensic evidence indicates
a single garment can shed over
1900 fibers in a single load
lack of funding stifles
research into removal methods
fashion designers
appliance manufactures
need develop innovative ways
environmentally friendly
filters and fibers
to reduced debris release
simple solutions provide
consumers means to play their part
choosing natural fabrics
linen wool silk hemp
good old organic cotton
over synthetic textiles
consider petrochemical
free detergents
when loading laundry
max out mileage on
blankets fleeces shirts
before tossing in the wash
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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The Silent Old Woman
she is unthinkable
i still think so
for in her hands
lies the bomb that
she may throw
at her enemies
yet she didn't
she stays in the house
reciting the prayers
offered for
her dead ancestors
when she opens the window
it is because she likes light to filter
warmth between the fibers
of her orange curtains
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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There Are Many Roads To Take
at this point in my life
there are always many roads to take
the options are limitless
the roads looking like hairs
and fibers and swirling octopuses
so confusing
so tempting to take those
that make me happy
but i have decided
to take this rougher road
with you, my love
i have taken your hand
i have given my word
that is the difference
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why I Do Not Have To See You...
somehow our roads must
not meet
i prefer that they remain
to be so many distances
apart
there is no need
you are on your own
path of
bliss
there is no need for you
to confront me
about my own choice
i am dusty
and i have no story to tell
about sunshine
perhaps there is a tiny thing
and it will
be about the last rain
that fell
upon the arms of dead wood
there is nothing there
except the hollowness
the fibers that give you nothing
but meaningless lines
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Act V
[MIDNIGHT.]
First, two white arms that held him very close,
And ever closer as he drew him back
Reluctantly, the loose gold-colored hair
A thousand delicate fibers reaching out
Still to detain him; then some twenty steps
Of iron staircse winding round and down,
And ending in a narrow gallery hung
With Gobelin tapestries--Andromeda
Rescued by Perseus, and the sleek Diana
With her nymphs bathing; at the farther end
A door that gave upon a starlit grove
Of citron and clipt palm-trees; then a path
As bleached as moonlight, with the shadow of leaves
Stamped black upon it; next a vine-clad length
Of solid masonry; and last of all
A Gothic archway packed with night, and then--
A sudden gleaming dagger through his heart.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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They Crave Love
They Crave Love
If love is but a mere repeatedly frustration
there comes a time when things don't rhyme;
a curse such as this feeds automutilation,
a knife cuts fine fibers untíll life will chime
and escapes this impregnate........damnation
Madras on
poem by Madrason writer
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Wrong actions are the result.
An effect is the result of many causes;
A cause might be the reason of many effects.
Causes and effects are often misconnected
And the wrong actions are executed thereby.
01.09.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Connect Me To You Heart
Connect me to your heart, my friend
it is this heart that gives until it hurts
The heart that hears your voice
Deep from the tranquil ocean
Learning to ride the waves
And see the beauty in each magnificence
If today you will hear my voice
Harden not, just connect me to your heart
Learn to live and feel this heart beat
That says..all is well..keep on doing
What is right, have no fear of tomorrow.
There must be no turning. back...just be focused..
You have so much for everything
To give, to share, to love, to live
Take one day at a time, and enjoy
Your candle must be lighted
So you will not stumble in the dark
Connect me..to your heart..my friend.
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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Rising dreams
Dreams!
My delicate dreams!
Woven with the tender threads of love,
Bound with the glue of belief.
When collide,
Break down
Into shears and shreads.
A thousand of them!
Each bit a tiny momento
Of time.
Each bit a priceless memory
Difficult to unwind.
I mourn,
My thousand tears
And bury them
Deep somewhere in my heart.
My heart,
Cemetery of my dreams.
My dreams,
Born a thousand lives
Dying a thousand deaths.
My delicate dreams
Woven with the threads of love
Bound with the glue of belief.
And
To my weirdest surprise
I see them rise
From thousand broken shears
From thousand broken shreds
With smile in their lips
Hope in their brows
They rise
Weaving together the threads of love
Bonding with the glue of belief.
Yes! They rise
My dreams They rise.-anjali
poem by Anjali Kakati
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041511P help your body
an eggplant covers my plate
fried with eggs, onions, garlic
could be omelette's from east
pack with fibers; good for me
with red chili pepper; little hot
i would be drinking water lots
i never forget to have cup of rice
could be a filler in my stomach
was told too much carbohydrates
but i do lots of physical events
tomorrow would be walking golf
yes exercise does body good
poem by Manonton Dalan
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