Every experience in life, everything with which we have come in contact in life, is a chisel which has been cutting away at our life statue, molding, modifying, shaping it. We are part of all we have met. Everything we have seen, heard, felt, or thought has had its hand in molding us, shaping us
quote by Orison Swett Marden
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At the Café Door
Something they said beside me
made me look toward the café door,
and I saw that lovely body which seemed
as though Eros in his mastery had fashioned it,
joyfully shaping its well-formed limbs,
molding its tall build,
shaping its face tenderly,
and leaving, with a touch of the fingers,
a particular nuance on the brow, the eyes, the lips.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Believe it!
Miracles happen
angles exist
to experience them
you have to believe
believe in colors
the truth and God
believe in you
because you have the power
to change and make good
to be a star
to be special
to be better
than what you already are
'believing' is the power
to ignite the spark
angles shower their blessings
we call it success
and all that comes
when you start to believe
trust your hopes
believe in your dreams
you own your life
it's the best asset you got
shaping and molding it
is all in your hand
believe it
you got the power
you are meant to be special
just believe in it
believe in you
I am a believer
are you?
poem by Areena Arora
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The Future Of The Past
New times are now old ones,
Old ones are now history,
History becomes ancient,
Ancient becomes unknown,
Unknown shifts though time,
Shaping and molding in every which way,
Unknown times become myths,
Myths become religions,
False becomes truth,
Truths move to morals,
Morals are now what we live by,
Now has just become then,
The past has once been the future,
The future will soon become the past,
You were once born in the future of the past,
But the past has caught up,
And taken you with it.
Like a deadly arrow the past pierces life,
The future itself becomes victim to its strike.
As if to be Bonnie and Clyde,
Hand in hand the two opposites collide,
Together bringing everything to their long awaited fate.
Doing what they do best toward their ever most passions,
The future and the past are, and were, the two deadliest assassins,
Today,
Tomorrow,
And yesterday...
poem by Justin MonacoBarnes
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Wait, things are shaping up
I approached a sculptor the other day
For carving a statue of
Gautama Buddha
He asked me a number of questions
Some of them were far stretched
Though I answered all of them
I was thinking within that
All these details were unnecessary
He could read my mind and said
These details were needed to help me
Come out with what exactly you were looking for
He suggested my coming to him
Two weeks later
Why so long and he said
Wait things are shaping up
Two weeks later
I saw practically no progress
He showed me a granite block
Which he said he would carve
As Gautama Buddha
He suggested me to visit him
Two weeks later
“Do you not think we are delaying? ”
I asked and he said
Wait things are shaping up
I went to him as suggested
No change at all
The block was under water
And carving had not started
He said that this curing process
Would help him understand
The quality of the block
And he opined
That we were lucky in
Selecting the right granite
And he suggested my visiting him
A week later
“Yes, I know you are wondering
As to why it is taking so much time”
How he could say even without my telling that
He continued
Wait, things are shaping up
A week later
No great change
But the block got castled here and there
No where near my expectations
“Come after three days and see”
But, he assured
Wait, things are shaping up
I made four visits later
At intervals of three, two and one days
I could not make out head or tail
Of what was happening
But, each time I returned
Hearing his words
Wait, things are shaping up
I was wondering
Are things really shaping up
Or am I being fooled
I did not visit him for
Full three months
As I was sure that
I would not be able to appreciate
The progress that the sculptor
Would be claiming to have made
One day, there was a call from him
“Come and see your Gautama Buddha”
I was not excited
I visited his place in all reluctance
And was preparing to hear
Wait, things are shaping up
But, what a surprise
Saw my Gautama Buddha
In a shape and carving
Beyond my belief
And I was not able to control my excitement
“I know you are wondering how this could be possible
But, you know, I was telling each time you visited that
Wait, things are shaping up”
We all do prayers seeking some change
And we wonder as to when the change would fructify
God, like a sculptor is shaping things
But, he never tells
Wait, things are shaping up
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Born Again
It goes with me in Eternal Belief-
The greatness of your Immortal Hand...
You who created this Universe and ALL...
You who 'tis poised tall in Divinitys Stand;
For without your molding and shaping...
Your revision of my shell of clay...
I'd surely be lost to the fires slaughter...
Burned in Eternal Fires of Hells yesterday;
Saved me you did one day passed yesterday...
A quarter of a century 'tis not so very long--
Spent it trying to live up to your commandments and Grace...
Spent it trying to undo my oh so many wrongs;
Today- i thank you my sweet Savior for finding-
This torn and oh so lost Soul of my yesterday...
Forgiven of past sin-allowed to begin once again...
Forever indebted-a child of God-i am this day;
June 19,2010
The Golden Rule
poem by Theodora Onken
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Part Of Life, That is
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Stuck with sticking emotions felt in my gut...
Unable to abandon them.
Or give them up...
Had been a place I'd been,
Back then.
With no one but myself...
And faith,
To help me slowly break away...
Of a hold I had on them to mend.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
I have learned to feel grief deeply,
Where it is felt.
Let it visit.
And then from it to leave!
Not to forget the process...
But to breathe!
Remembering...
With an agony upon my letting go,
Knowing what I felt was painful...
It was also,
Part of life!
A part of life,
That is!
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
Few get to sit in the midst of it.
Part of life that is.
With the giving of opinion and the giving of lip.
Part of life that is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I do believe it is possible to create, even without ever writing a word or painting a picture, by simply molding one's inner life. And that too is a deed.
quote by Etty Hillesum
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen
I've lived 70 years and what have I learned?
Keep your mouth shut with ears open and you won't get burned.
I often talked thoughtlessly instead of listening well.
All the opportunities that this cost me is hard to tell.
My life would have been broader if I listened to new things said.
But I was too busy coddling old ideas molding in my head.
As for friends and colleagues, I offended more than my share.
With an attitude that my ideas were the only ones that were fair.
So after 70 years there's just one thought I'd like to emphasize…
During your life learn to listen to others, oh please listen, and you'll become wise.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The thought you have now shapes your experience of the next moment. Practice shaping the moment.
quote by Tom Barrett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A spiral scratched into an ancient Irish gravestone
A centre and an expansion
a life centred expanding
the force of the centre whirls
a life without limit but it says
a centred life what gods the centre
does not tell but a centre
and from there a spiral
which has a beginning but no end
the life shaping the death the death
shaping the life it seems this life
that life could not be told
need not be told
every life drawn here
drawn because it could not be spoken
even in a lilting Irish voice
speaking a spiral sentence for
Irish sentences are like spirals
the centre expands without limit
the life was lived in the circle of the year
that comes round again sowing harvest
yet never back to the same place
as the mind the vision the experience expands whirls out
like a wild dance celebrating birth marriage death
yet passes the familiar place each season
and love love for the world
expands into a holy love
spiralling without limit yet never forgetting the centre
like a child on a gate swinging
knowing it’s safe because of the hinge
it knows but does not know
for others made the hinge
and now we read the spiral on a gravestone
tracing back from infinity to the source
everything that has an outward
everything that has an inward
and so there is no need for words
the spiral like a poem about life
read it forwards read it backwards
read it with thanks see it as grace
the thick green grass curls over it
the lichen yellow orange green
placed like a lizard
blesses this the most eloquent
gravestone in all the world
in a green field the clouds white
the sky blue this is the centre
of the spiral here now and
there is no ending to the spiral
the gravestone says
but a starting yes
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Every major question in history is a religious question. It has more effect in molding life than nationalism or a common language.
quote by Hilaire Belloc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone And From Sight
It is finalizing at midnight.
A molding hold that has grown old,
On a yesterday,
Slipping away...
To be gone and from sight.
And those of good deeds proceed,
With beliefs...
Held onto tightly,
To see them succeed.
With a defeating of grief,
Doubt and desperation.
It is finalizing at midnight.
A molding hold that has grown old,
On a yesterday,
Slipping away...
To be gone and from sight.
Incited by lack of light that blinds minds.
And perceptions of entitled rights,
Fade.
As the dawning of a new day,
Arrives to lift all eyes...
Above the restriction of limiting foolishness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Just For A Moment
I want to come home and find you sleeping
Slipping under the cover
Feeling the cool cotton sheets on my skin
I hear your breathing
Then you notice my presence
Just for a moment
Molding my body to your back
Carefully not to disturb you
Skin on skin - your skin on my skin
Your warmth is invading my senses
My hand trailing lightly along your arm
Just for a moment
Setting my heart by your heartbeat
You are the one I come home to
My fingers slightly brushing the hair on your thigh
Resting on your hip
I kiss your shoulder Good Night
Just for a moment
Turning around
I feel your movement
Now you - molding your body against mine
Skin on skin
Your hand trailing lightly along my arm
Just for a moment
Intoxicated by your touch I feel you
We awake together
Letting go of our weariness
Collide, struggle, unfold, explode, release
Breathe, laugh, wind down
Until we fall to sleep - holding each other
Just for a moment
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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The Statue Got Me High
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The monument of granite sent a beam into my eye
The statue made me die
The statue made me die
It took my hand it killed me and it turned me to the sky
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And though I once preferred a human beings company
They pale before the monolith that towers over me
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The truth is where the sculptors chisel chipped away the lie
The statue made me fry
The statue made me fry
My coat contained a furnace where there used to be a guy
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And as the screaming fire engine siren filled the air
The evidence had vanished from my charred and smoking chair
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And now it is your turn
(your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn)
The stone it calls to you
(you cant refuse to do the things it tells you to)
And as the screaming fire engine siren fills the air
The evidence will vanish from your charred and smoking chair
And what they found was just a statue
Standing where the statue got me high
And what theyll find is just a statue
Standing where the statue got you high
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Statue Got Me High
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
A monument of granite sent a beam into my eye
The statue made me die
The statue made me die
It took my hand it killed me and it threw me to the sky
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And though I once preferred a human being's company
they pale before the monolith that towers over me
The statue got me high
The statue got me high
The truth is where the sculptor's chisel chipped away the lie
The statue made me fry
The statue made me fry
My coat contained a furnace where there used to be a guy
The stone it called to me
(and now I see the things the stone has shown to me)
A rock that spoke a word
(an animated mineral it can be heard)
And as the screaming fire engine siren filled the air
the evidence had vanished from my charred and smoking chair
and what they found was just a statue
standing where the statue got me high
And now it is your turn
(your turn to hear the stone and then your turn to burn)
The stone it calls to you
(you can't refuse to do the things it tells you to)
And as the screaming fire engine siren fills the air
the evidence will vanish from your charred and smoking chair
and what they found was just a statue
standing where the statue got me high
and what they'll find is just a statue
standing where the statue got you high
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dressed For Success (Live Zurich 1991)
Dressed For Success
Roxette
Music & Lyrics by Per Gessle
Tried to make it little by little
tried to make it bit by bit on my own.
Quit the job, the grey believers
another town where I get close to the bone.
Whatcha gonna tell your brother?
oh oh oh
whatcha gonna tell your father?
I don't know!
Whatcha gonna tell your mother?
Let me go...
I'm gonna get dressed for success
shaping me up for the big time, baby.
Get dressed for success
shaping it up for your love yea yea yea.
I'm not afraid
a trembling flower
I'll feed your heart
and blow the dust from your eyes and
in the dark things happen faster.
I love the way you sway your hips next to mine.
I'm gonna get dressed for success
hitting a spot for the big time, baby.
Get dressed for success
shaping it up for your love. Look sharp!
From: "Susan Gornati
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dressed For Success
Tried to make it little by little, tried to make it bit by bit on my own. quit the job, the grey believers, another town where I get close to the bone.
Whatcha gonna tell your brother? - oh oh oh whatcha gonna tell your father? - I dont know! whatcha gonna tell your mother? - let me go...
Im gonna get dressed for success shaping me up for the big time, baby. get dressed for success shaping it up for your love yea yea yea.
Im not afraid, a trembling flower, Ill feed your heart and blow the dust from your eyes and in the dark things happen faster. I love the way you sway your hips next to mine.
Whatcha gonna tell your brother? - oh oh oh...
Im gonna get dressed for success, hitting a spot for the big time, baby. get dressed for success shaping it up for your love. look sharp!
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Gift
(5/25/12)
So many different things that we don't understand
So many different things that are in gods plan
A touch, a look, a place, a face, a sound, a word
All of these things we have seen or heard.
What I treasure most are those moments that I spend with you
Cause I know exactly what you want me to do.
when I hold you in my arms, I feel your heart begin to race
It beats so fast that I can't join the pace.
I feel you quiver to my every touch
And I know I need you twice as much.
Falling in love with you was no surprise
I knew it when I looked in your eyes.
My heart was taken and molded into you
To a point I didn't know what to do.
You used my heart like molding clay
And with you is where I want to stay.
This was a gift that GOD sent to me
And in your arms I will always be.
Holding you, caressing you
making love to you
my whole life through.
A gift of love is more precious than
any diamonds or pearls, or emeralds and rings.
A value amount can not be put on love
For it is given from GOD above.
Love and life go hand in hand
This is something we must understand.
If there is no love, than no one would care
If we lived or died and not one shed tear
Would any one cry.
there would only be negativity and hate
And never feel or know about religious faith.
We would then be called the living dead
That is something that I dread.
So this gift which was given to me
I'll treasure the rest of my days
For there is no better way.
poem by Louis Rams
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Slow....
slowly
one finds what had long been missing,
it is not seen
it is just felt by the lines of the palms
by the tips of
the fingers
slowly one remembers the scent
it is not seen
it is getting inside the nerves
of the nostrils
and then one begins to remember
and then
the lips begin to part
shaping that
lonesome
smile.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Experience, The Best Teacher
When I was a student,
Many a teacher preached a sermon.
A sermon of, surprisingly, same subject.
This tedious theme could be thus summarized:
‘ if I could my student life re-live,
Very differently would I behave'.
A discourse denoting a dirge
A communication connoting a caution
If not a counselling to student who have ears
Students who would not shed tears,
Because they have ears to hear
And wise enough to understand,
Words of wisdom, even few.
But why to us their sermon relate?
Why to us their stories declare?
It is because about our future they care.
Careful, concerned and committed teachers,
Eager their experience to share,
Aware of the facts, glaring,
Facts preserved in an axiom,
The often quoted and tested maxim,
That experience is the best teacher.
Experience is the best teacher,
To those without any experience,
The best teacher is experience shared.
Shared by fair and frank fellows,
Who When good opportunities
Came beggarly begging,
Refused to these opportunities utilise,
Reaping the result of their recklessness, fully
Learning first-hand from their folly,
That opportunity knocks but once,
And once unutilised is lost forever.
But shared experiences meticulously applied,
Will save one the superfluous suffering,
Subsequent from the silly slip-up,
Of turning deaf ears to sermons.
Signifying that total respect to advice,
Plays a crucial role in molding us,
And goes to lend credence
To the usually used saw, that
Experience is the best teacher.
poem by Emmanuel Oduro
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