The world stands aside to let anyone pass who knows where he is going.
quote by David Starr Jordan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Wonder
U Stands! U stands!
And I
And I
I wing
Spaceless timeless lost my way
U stands! U stands!
And
Raging bearishly shrieks myself
I
Bears my very self!
U!
U!
U binds time
U bends the circle
U souls the spirit
U gazes the look
U
Circles the whirled
The whorled
The world!
I
Circle the all
and u
and u
U
Stand
The
Wondrous
poem by August Stramm
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Meaning Of The Salvation Army Crest
As we look at our flag. Let's remember what the meaning crest is,
Here we go let's as a Salvationist let's see if we can pass this quiz,
Can we think of what makes up the Crest?
Well let's all try to pass this, so let's do our best.
What is the meaning of the Cross?
The cross of the Lord Jesus Christ as he hung, before they took Him to His final doss.
What is the meaning of the S?
The S stands for the Salvation from sin through Jesus.
What is the meaning of the Ray on the outside of the circle?
The Ray stands for the Fire of the Holy Spirit in one day will lead us to something wonderful.
What is the meaning of the dots?
The dots stand for the Truth of the Gospel; this is something we need to hear because at times we do not care a jot.
What is the meaning of the crossed swords?
The Cross swords stand for the Salvation War, and it is something we need to protect our gourds.
What is the meaning of the red for the blood and the yellow for the fire?
The Blood stands for the Blood Jesus Shed, and the Fire stands for the Fire of the Holy Spirit because this was Williams Booth's desire.
Well I hope we all either recall the S. A.‘s history or learned something from reading this today,
Because this will get us back to our old beliefs and our past and let us understand of what they are trying to say.
poem by Frank Pulver
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Sitting By My Window
by this window
my world is made and seen
you pass by
a lonely shadow
shaded by the
full moon
in silence you
always pass
by and i sit by this window
seeing you
my loneliness
reflected in yours
this is our world now
you pass by
while i stay always looking
what passes away next.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Desperate And In Despair
Desperate and in despair
As my world around me begins to fall,
Will I find an answer there,
If I pray for it to befall?
My future stands within HIS grasp,
My accommodation will determined be,
On Tuesday next within a Court,
Through no fault of mine, it'll come to pass.
My flat tenancy vested was,
With Partners in a Legal Firm,
For whom I did the books,
Till their closure came to pass.
The Landlord seeks possession now,
The outcome will turn out how?
I know not what will come to pass,
But hope in my favour the Judgement will be.
Desperate and in despair,
I wait the outcome hopefully,
In trepidation I do wait,
To see how the Judge will seal my fate.
Copyright (c) Yisroel Yonatan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 12 December 2005
poem by Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
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Concept Incorrect
concept
incorrect
universally
as it stands
on almost
every point
this is
stasis
at present
needed
is more
focus
as such
death is part
of the circle
of organic life
why is that
bitter
especially
if is
believed
the good
pass on
to a better
world?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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When The Two Sisters Go To Fetch Water
WHEN the two sisters go to fetch water, they come to this spot and they smile.
They must be aware of somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters whisper to each other when they pass this spot.
They must have guessed the secret of that somebody who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and water spills when they reach this spot.
They must have found out that somebody's heart is beating who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters glance at each other when they come to this spot, and they smile.
There is a laughter in their swift-stepping feet, which makes confusion in somebody's mind who stands behind the trees whenever they go to fetch water.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Gardener XVIII: When Two Sisters
When the two sisters go to fetch
water, they come to this spot and
they smile.
They must be aware of somebody
who stands behind the trees when-
ever they go to fetch water.
The two sisters whisper to each
other when they pass this spot.
They must have guessed the secret
of that somebody who stands behind
the trees whenever they go to
fetch water.
Their pitchers lurch suddenly, and
water spills when they reach this
spot.
They must have found out that
somebody's heart is beating who
stands behind the trees whenever
they go to fetch water.
The two sisters glance at each other
when they come to this spot, and they
smile.
There is a laughter in their swift-
stepping feet, which makes confusion
in somebody's mind who stands behind
the trees whenever they go to
fetch water.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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There She Stands
When the night
Seems to say
All hope is lost
Gone away
But I know
I'm not alone
By the light
She stands
There she waves
Faithful friend
Shimmering stars
Westward wind
Show the way
Carry me
To the place
She stands
Just when you think it might be over
Just when you think the fight is gone
Someone will risk his life to raise her
There she stands
There she flies
Clear blue skies
Reminds us with red
Of those that died
Washed in white
By the grave
In their strength
She stands
When evil calls itself a martyr
When all your hopes come crashing down
Someone will pull her from the rubble
There she stands
We've seen her flying torn and tattered
We've seen her stand the test of time
And through it all the fools have fallen
There she stands
By the dawn's
Early light
And through the fight
She stands
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet's Death
The world is taking little heed
And plods from day to day:
The vulgar flourish like a weed,
The learned pass away.
We miss him on the summer path
The lonely summer day,
Where mowers cut the pleasant swath
And maidens make the hay.
The vulgar take but little heed;
The garden wants his care;
There lies the book he used to read,
There stands the empty chair.
The boat laid up, the voyage oer,
And passed the stormy wave,
The world is going as before,
The poet in his grave.
poem by John Clare
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The Young Housewife
At ten AM the young housewife
moves about in negligee behind
the wooden walls of her husband’s house.
I pass solitary in my car.
Then again she comes to the curb
to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands
shy, uncorseted, tucking in
stray ends of hair, and I compare her
to a fallen leaf.
The noiseless wheels of my car
rush with a crackling sound over
dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling.
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Gone Too Far
Kelly stands by the water
With a gun in her hand
She won't believe in the future
In a world made by man
There's nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
With so much to say and no time
Have we gone too far?
In a world so scarred
Have we gone too far?
Dream away
Joseph stands in the desert
With a gun in his hand
Brother still killing brother
Cold within this eastern land
There's nowhere to run
There's nowhere to hide
With so much to do and no time
Have we gone too far?
In a world so scarred
Have we gone too far?
Dream away
Gone too far
In a world so scarred
Have we gone too far?
Dream away
There must be some other way
A hundred years from green to grey
Close my eyes I'm safe today
Blindly fade away
Gone too far
In a world so scarred
Have we gone too far?
Dream away
Dream away
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Earth Rolls On
Who is the young man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world with a frivolous outlook, and with ease,
He dreams, new dreams, his life years from decay,
As if the earth were his, and he had only himself to please.
Who is the middle aged man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with an eye of someone so unbelieving,
With stress and pressures, which weigh him down like clay,
He finds the earth to be a place that's so unforgiving.
Who is the old man, who stands at the dawn of the day,
And views the world, with a subdued and despondent air,
He's seen life come and go, and from him now, it's speeding away,
And the earth that he remembers, is no longer fair, no longer there.
But the earth rolls on,
And our lifespan, too, will soon be gone.
The young, the middle aged and the old.
Their stories told.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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On The Outside Looking In
The peels of laughter emulate from within
and he stands on the outside forever looking in.
He stands the stranger, which no one wants to know.
Sadness always etched across his brow
with a lonely heart beating inside.
He sees the smiles radiate from within
while he stands alone
always on the outside looking in.
The one who stands apart from any joyous crown
with only tears and a lonely heart.
He is the one who never is invited
to parties at anytime,
but has to watch from outside a window
on the outside always looking in.
He is that someone everyone reject as a friend.
One day he can only hope and tables will turn.
Until that day arrives
and his loneliness evaporates he will remain
the one who stands
on the outside always looking in.
14 May 2010
poem by David Harris
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A Stoic against the wind
He stands in the storm with a straight face like a Flagship.
An Idealist in his idiosyncratic world
and he never bows to injustice or heeds any ill-advise.
This saintly character is a maverick.
He imagines a better society; an equilibrium
and he needs deeds to change the whole atmosphere.
He goes in every street corner with his megaphone
but to his creed nobody listens.
Corrupted young generation's malfunctions and their malice
is a cause for distress to the entire world?
This social worker though he stands in the storm
cannot stand among the exorcists.
He will be chased very soon to his hallucination world
by these underworld henchmen.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Stand in The Rain
She stands bellow the tree,
As she looks out towards the sea.
Her eyes see the blue, yet her mind is lost,
It has left her on it's journey remembering what it lost.
The breeze blows though her dark crimson hair,
And still she does not blink, she only stares.
She stares though nothing only seeing pain,
The pain that has left her standing in the rain.
The rain falls around her on the sea,
Yet still she stands under the tree,
It will not leave her, it will not go,
What she has seen will never go,
She will always remain alone,
She remains in the wind as it moans,
She feels movement of the air,
Yet she does not hear it, she does not fear,
Se fears not the storm, only the pain,
She stands by the side of the sea, stands in the rain.
She stands here, still,
As the pain begons to kill.
She stands and looks past her heart through the pain,
As she stands in the rain.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Obelisks
Let me remember old trails
Let me weep over lost loves
They are all the same love
But different
Let me remember old trails
Cherry trees along muddy roads
And ancient obelisks
They are now so different
But still the same
Let me remember missteps
Let me regret wrong paths
They are all the same path
But different
The seasons always alter
Or they hardly ever change
Only the hours pass
Time stands still
And your love is mine
Let me remember old lanes
Let me weep over old loves
They are all different
But still the same
Let me remember good times
Life in its fleeting flight
Days of yore that vanished
They are still the same
But different
The seasons always alter
Or they hardly ever change
Only the hours pass
Time stands still
And my love is yours
Let me take new roads
Let me praise new loves
They are all the same love
But different
poem by Paul Hartal
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Our Cow
Down by the slipralls stands our cow
Chewing, chewing, chewing,
She does not care what folks out there
In the great, big world are doing.
She sees the small cloud-shadows pass
And green grass shining under.
If she does think, what does she think
About it all, I wonder?
She sees the swallows skimming by
Above the sweet young clover,
The light reeds swaying in the wind
And tall trees bending over.
Far down the track she hears the crack
of bullock-whips, and raving
Of angry men where, in the sun,
Her fellow-beasts are slaving.
Girls, we are told, can scratch and scold,
And boys will fight and wrangle,
And big, grown men, just now and then,
Fret o'er some fingle-fangle,
Vexing the earth with grief or mirth,
Longing, rejoicing, rueing -
But by the slipralls stands our cow,
Chewing.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Moral Alphabet (excerpt)
D: The Dreadful Dinotherium he
Will have to do his best for D.
The early world observed with awe
His back, indented like a saw.
His look was gay, his voice was strong;
His tail was neither short nor long;
His trunk, or elongated nose,
Was not so large as some suppose;
His teeth, as all the world allows,
Were graminivorous, like a cow's.
He therefore should have wished to pass
Long peaceful nights upon the Grass,
But being mad the brute preferred
To roost in branches, like a bird.1
A creature heavier than a whale,
You see at once, could hardly fail
To suffer badly when he slid
And tumbled (as he always did).
His fossil, therefore, comes to light
All broken up: and serve him right.
MORAL
If you were born to walk the ground,
Remain there; do not fool around.
E stands for Egg.
poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Open Your Eyes
What on earth are you doing here, in the western world?
Another situation yeah youre a different girl
You have lived your life dreaming you were someone else
Succeedings believing in yourself
Open your eyes
And see the world that stands before you now
Open your eyes
And see the world that stands in front of you
You have spent your days trying something new
You have looked at magazine girls wishing that they were you
Do you see in photographs an angel that once was you?
Does she tell you stories that are true?
If I could stand with you right now and speak my mind
I would tell you no lies
I would shoot straight between the eyes
You have stared a thousand times right into the lens
Have you ever thought just once, does it all make sense?
Your beautys eternal so dont just pretend
Got to wake up girl, or its the end
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Toledo
The little stones chuckle against the fields:
'We are so small: God will not think of us;
We are so old already, we have seen
So many generations blunt their ploughs,
Tilling the fields we lie in; and we dream
Of our first sleep among the ancient hills.'
The grass laughs, thinking: 'I am born and die,
And born and die, and know not birth or death,
Only the going on of the green earth.'
The rivers pass and pass, and are the same,
And I, who see the beauty of the world,
Pass, and am not the same, or know it not,
And know the world no more. O is not this
Some horrible conspiracy of things,
That I have known and loved and lingered with
All my days through, and now they turn like hosts
Who have grown tired of a delaying guest?
They cast me out from their eternity:
God is in league with their forgetfulness.
poem by Arthur Symons
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