Imperceptibly the hours glide on, and beguile us as they pass.

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Rumi

Reason says love says

Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.

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Rumi

I will beguile him with the tongue

Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
that I should beguile him with gold of the kingdom of the world.
He is an angel, though in form he is a man; he is not lustful
that I should beguile him with women.
Angels start away from the house wherein this form is, so how
should I beguile him with such a form and likeness?
He does not take a flock of horses, since he flies on wings; his
food is light, so how should I beguile him with bread?
He is not a merchant and trafficker in the market of the world
that I should beguile him with enchantment of grain and loss.
He is not veiled that I should make myself out sick and utter
sighs, to beguile him with lamentation.
I will bind my head and bow my head, for I have got out of
hand; I will not beguile his compassion with sickness or fluttering.
Hair by hair he sees my crookedness and feigning; what’s
hidden from him that I should beguile him with anything hidden.
He is not a seeker of fame, a prince addicted to poets, that I
should beguile him with verses and lyrics and flowing poetry.
The glory of the unseen form is too great for me to beguile it
with blessing or Paradise.
Shams-e Tabriz, who is his chosen and beloved–perchance I
will beguile him with this same pole of the age.

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Is All About You

1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.

1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.

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Help Myself

A hungry boy
In a town of one hundred more
The food is out the door
Makes me want to help myself, help my-
A river red
Pouring from the side of his head
A bullet through the brain
Make him feel different today
Oh, colder grow the days
Oh, must faster pass the years by
til we die
A treasure not my own
I take it, tuck it, nobody will notice
Well that suits me well
Big house, big yard, help myself, help myself
You know, every once in a while
To help the helpless comes into style
Mercy, mercy mile
1-800-help-myself, help myself
Oh, colder grow the days
Oh, much fast pass the years by
Oh, colder grow the days
Oh, much faster pass the years by
til we die
Summers here were dancing in the daisies
Summers rain burns holes in the flowers
Dangerous hours
Dangerous hours
Dangerous hours
Every now and then
Tv preachers tell of heaven
Redemption for a penny a soul
1-800- help-yourself, help yourself
Help yourself, oh
Summers here, were swimming in the river
Summer rain, come down, come down, come down, come down yeah
Summers here, were dancing in the daisies
Summer rain burns holes in the flowers
Dangerous hours
Dangerous hours
Dangerous hours

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Magic Carpet Ride

Take me for a magic carpet ride.
Let that magic carpet glide
slowly so I can see
all the places where misery
lives every day.

Let it glide over Iraq
so I can see why our boys can't come back
to their babies and wives
and try best they can to get on with their lives.

Let it glide over the Gaza strip
where two nations are joined at the hip
and don't even know it.
I can see the misery from where I sit.

Let it glide over the oil fields
where they pump the lifeblood that the earth yields.
Black gold all for a price
in a bloody war of sacrifice.

Let it glide over the African land
to help me try and understand
why all of its beauty and natural resource
is raped and pillaged with no remorse.

Let it glide over China's great wall
separating its people from the rest of us all,
where liberties are abused on every day,
where no one's allowed to have a say.

Let me glide over the Vatican
where so much praise is given one man.
Gold is there wherever I gaze.
Poverty forgotten, but not the praise.

Let me glide over the streets of our cities
where the smog is thick and makes you wheeze.
The homeless and beggars begging for change
in a land of freedom. I find that strange.

Take me back to my own little home
from wherever my carpet ride did roam.
I've seen too much misery for one long day.
It's time for me to lie down and pray.

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Summer Fall

'As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away'
No matter how tightly i hung on
The Summer would not stay! ;
The Autumn came in heavily
Weighted by its dying leaves
Their burnished-russet just blew away
Taken by more than an Autumn breeze;
For it 'twas an icy-icy wind
That took my mother that day
'Twas but a thief in the November night
Blanketed in: Grief Stricken Clouds Of grey;

For my mother
Who shares a birthday with Emily Dickinson
Using: 'As imperceptibly as Grief the Summer lapsed away'
As my inspiration
This was an Emily Dickinson quote

Missing you still this day, mama


By: Theodora Onken

April 7,2012

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Love steals on us imperceptibly.

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Isaac Watts

Hymn 44 part 2

The true improvement of life.

Ps. 90:12.

Ane is this life prolonged to me?
Are days and seasons giv'n?
O let me, then, prepare to be
A fitter heir of heav'n.

In vain these moments shall not pass,
These golden hours be gone:
Lord, I accept thine offered grace,
I bow before thy throne.

Now cleanse my soul from every sin
By my Redeemer's blood;
Now let my flesh and soul begin
The honors of my God.

Let me no more my soul beguile
With sin's deceitful toys;
Let cheerful hope, increasing still,
Approach to heav'nly joys.

My thankful lips shall loud proclaim
The wonders of thy praise,
And spread the savor of thy name
Where'er I spend my days.

On earth let my example shine,
And when I leave this state,
May heav'n receive this soul of mine
To bliss supremely great.

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Javanese Dancers

Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums,
Dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting:
And now the stealthy dancer comes
Undulantly with cat-like steps that cling;

Smiling between her painted lids a smile,
Motionless, unintelligible, she twines
Her fingers into mazy lines,
The scarves across her fingers twine the while.

One, two, three, four glide forth, and, to and fro,
Delicately and imperceptibly,
Now swaying gently in a row,
Now interthreading slow and rhythmically,

Still, with fixed eyes, monotonously still,
Mysteriously, with smiles inanimate,
With lingering feet that undulate,
With sinuous fingers, spectral hands that thrill

In measure while the gnats of music whirr,
The little amber-coloured dancers move,
Like painted idols seen to stir
By the idolators in a magic grove.

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Similarly you can make a transition from one set of instruments to another imperceptibly.

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Stranded On The Island Of Life

Life sometimes seems like
You're stranded on a desert island
Waiting for the ship to come and rescue you

When no one knows you're missing
So you keep waiting and hoping they will come for you
Not knowing that they don't know your missing
There having so much fun on the yacht
That they won't come back for you

So you keep hoping that one day
They'll come back for you
And not knowing that your
Only 5 miles off shore
You sit there and wait
Not knowing you could swim to shore

It's only 5 miles away
You're so close to the shore
And you don't even know it
But you keep waiting
For them to come back for you

So years pass
Months pass
Weeks pass
Days pass
Hours pass
Minutes pass
Seconds pass

Eventually you give up
Not knowing you're so close to shore
And all you had to do was swim 5 miles

There might be some danger in the water
But it's worth all that you go through
Just to get to the main land
Where all the other people are

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On Rude

Just a little rude can ruin someones day,
being rude a little bit,
is like swimming in a vest,
rude is like swimming with no trunks on,
kissing in the dark,
was it him? or was it her?
and eating from a bag ewe left open on the counter
for several days.
The decadance of Society, RUDE,
has finally sickened me,
the only thing to do is pray to GOD
to quicken me.
When the hours pass too quickly,
and the days pass just like hours
the months appear to me like weeks gone bye.
These aer the things eye am searching for.
A Kind Word.
A Smile.
A Happy Kiss.
A While.
Time is a blessing.
Keep Time In Today.

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Living Off Of Memories

I am living off of memories--
Just wasting my time....
The hours pass into days...
And there is no reason nor rhyme;

Blue skies have gone missing-
Replaced by dark grey--
The Sun has taken its leave---
And the night has replaced day;

Springtime no longer exists-
All the blossoms are withered and dry--
Summer times brillance...
For me has just died;

I am living of of memories--
Just wasting my time...
The hours pass into days
There is no reason nor rhyme;

All that is left is a remnant...
Of days spent with you...
The fabrric of yesterdays love...
Now distant from view;

It is far off and laying atop-
Our love making bed...
Just a remnant-a remnant...
Of loving words once said;

I am living off of memories--
Just wasting my time...
The hours pass into days--
There is no reason nor rhyme;

I'm caught in the between...
Of yesterdays time...
Back in that sweet day---
When you were once mine;

Song Lyrics
May23,2010

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~time~

As the hours drag on

the doctors rush to save her life

as the hours drag on

the day ends with no hope left

as the hours drag on

a nurse in forms a young girls family full of distress

as the minutes pass by

a young girl slowly dies

as the minutes pass by

a dieing girl whispers her last good byes

as the seconds tick past

she breaths her last breath

as seconds tick past

a family is struck with the truth that life does not last forever

months past in a blur

years will only dull the pain for the family

eternity till they will meet again

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Whispers Of The North

Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
To that wild and barren land
Where nature takes its course
Whispers of the wind
Soon I will be there again
Bound with a wild and restless drive
That pulls me from within
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will return again
To those endless afternoons
In sunshine and in rain
Whispers of my love
Days and weeks on end
I will share my thoughts of her
In prayers that I will send
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
The river and the shore
In the land that tested eskimos
Ten thousand years before
Whispers of my heart
In the tracks of animals
I will leave my footprints there
To lie beneath the snow
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the wind
I will feel it sting
I will see it rise and fall
I will hear it sing
The sound is like a song to me
It takes away the pain
The river is the melody
And sky is the refrain
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
And we can ride away
We can glide all day
And we can fly away
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth
Whispers of the north
Soon I will go forth

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Cicero

The evil implanted in man by nature spreads so imperceptibly, when the habit of wrong-doing is unchecked, that he himself can set no limit to his shamelessness.

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Flight Delays (Life Poem)

Sympathyless disbelief when I complain again,
Delays are the balance for the glamour of flying.
Nine hours in Sao Paulo while the ATC strike,
Eight hours in Vienna while new wheel flies in,
Seven sins would be justified by this purgatory,
Six times six hours from CBB to DUB last week,
Five hours sweating in Port au Prince plastic chair,
Four hours for rain in Miami seems not so bad,
Three hours in Shannon for bomb threat search,
Two hours sitting in Seattle with mad dash in Kennedy.
One would be happier walking, swimming or driving.
 

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There is a kind of elevation which does not depend on fortune; it is a certain air which distinguishes us, and seems to destine us for great things; it is a price which we imperceptibly set upon ourselves.

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Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!

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Day and Night

To mourn the death of yesterday is vile,
To see the day turn into night may see
Why roses have their quality so free
Of nature’s weeping and very aisle.
The death of day comes foremost to beguile,
As to beguile means always the genie
Has come to offer you his brewery,
A mix of wishes to be that servile.

To be that quick, a wish is granted right,
The night has spoken right and now justice,
The need for nights is huge, enlightenment!
The day dissolves to leave the wishful night,
A beautiful delight, quite enormous,
Due justly to my wish so imminent.

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