When the lamps in the house are lit it is like the flowering of lotus on the lake.
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On The Pond
if i were to choose
whether
i be this flowering lotus
or the croaking toad
on the pond
i will choose
as a matter of compromise
both
a croaking flowering lotus
sitting like a toad then
splashing on the pond
pleasing everybody
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The lotus eye
A lotus is born in muddy water
You cannot grow lotus anywhere else
A sage is born in a decadent world
Jesus never comes during any golden age
He came in an age harrowed by humbugs
A lotus has eyes
They are enamoured of the Sun
Jesus had lotus eyes
They could see the Sun and nothing else
He saw light and nothing else
He was always in light
The lotus is the Sun on earth
Jesus was the Sun on earth
When we pray to Jesus
Our prayer goes to a lotus
When we caress a lotus
We caress God the Son
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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My beautiful flowering trees
My beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall buy some land
Plant countless seeds
And watch them grow
Into beautiful flowering trees
A cool breeze
Will bring me
Sweet fragrances
From a thousand flowering trees
I shall listen
To the songs
From birds perched
In the tall flowering trees
I shall play
With my children and theirs
In the vast expanse of green
Amongst beautiful flowering trees
One day I shall rest
Passing into oblivion
My ashes scattered
Amidst the beautiful flowering trees
by Ash (Rishi's Dad)
poem by Rishi Menon
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Ballads Of Four Seasons: Summer
On Mirror Lake outspread for miles and miles,
The lotus lilies in full blossom teem.
In fifth moon Xi Shi gathers them with smiles,
Watchers o'erwhelm the bank of Yuoye Stream.
Her boat turns back without waiting moonrise
To yoyal house amid amorous sighs.
Lotus
(buck/mills/stipe)
I was hell
Sarcastic silver swell
That day it rained
Tough spun. hard won. no
Ocean flower aquarium
Badlands. give a hand
Honey dipt. flim flam
Hey hey. hey hey
That cat can walk like a big bad man
So happy to show us
I ate the lotus
Say havent you noticed?
I ate the lotus
Storefront window, I reflect
Just last week I was merely heck
Tip the scale. I was hell
Picked me up, then I fell
Whos this stranger? crowbar spine
Da, da, da, and I feel fine
Let it rain, rain, rain (rain)
Bring my happy back again
So happy to show us
I ate the lotus
Say havent you noticed?
I ate the lotus
I ate the lotus
Let it rain, rain, rain (rain)
Save me from myself again
Wash away my ugly sins
Opposing thumb, dorsal fin
That monkey died for my grin
Bring my happy back again
Let it rain (rain), rain, rain (rain)
Bring my happy back again
So happy to show us
I ate the lotus
Say havent you noticed?
I ate the lotus
I ate the lotus
I ate the lotus
I ate the lotus
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar(Decor) -48
1 Lotus(Cameo)
Lotus!
From deep heart of dirt
To the high head of bright lit sun
Wonderful
To my eyes' vision as you bloom
Cease not just your disc of bliss
Lotus
2 Freeing(Cameo)
Vanish
O'soul this moment
Forgetting self changing Matter
Engraved
Into your poise of Lotus deep
Over to heaven to taste
Nectar
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Our lost weekend melting crayons!
Reflecting on the lost weekend from beyond the sand valley carousel of cape cod,
I dig the lost hours the thoughts, the gallivants, which melt in the purest crayon wax of our souls.
I dig the diamond lattice in crystallographic earth facets like a house of mirror
or some bleak bleeding laboratory blowing girls dresses up from their gooseflesh legs by compression air jets and floor tricks that reflect from my inner loupe grinding the light through roadside glass and mica rotating in minds eye on fun house dizzy and whimsically revolving exit funhouse wheels that spills us to our seat, and casts confetti colors around my eyesight like the inside of a rain drop.
I reconstruct these moments connected in the lotus of thought the flowering palm of wisdom
Each moment!
Each feeling!
Each idea!
Each painted cage...
Watching them shuffle by on lotus like; the peeling elephant painted, the open black panther cage, the straw stuffed lion cage, the monkey mini top all starving dirty like and I dig it all like ZaZa zen of a circus train splitting down the rail lines like moving pictures before my eyes speared to the reels in a fervent heat which redden my skin protecting me from the naked blue sun.
poem by Jerome Moore
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A Flower Cut From Desire
The lotus is a flower cut from desire
Whatever her hue her petals attire
She is the goddess that sank into…
The muddy waters - arose anew.
Her purity and beauty is no cauldron.
Thou portrayed to symbolize the sun
She is but a spiritual, awakening…
A flower of prosperity, meaning.
A symbol of fertility, spirituality,
And even in her purest-state eternity.
The blue lotus is victory over wisdom
Pink the supreme lotus, Buddha's pilgrim.
The lotus path to noble truths is Purple
White purity spiritual perfection mental.
The Red lotus is related to the heart,
Associated with, love and compassion.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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"You are the big drop of dew under the lotus leaf, I am the smaller one on its upper side," said the dewdrop to the lake.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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After the Lotus Flowers Have Opened
Lotus flower open after west lake good
Carry wine come time
Not use flag pennant
Before behind red curtain green canopy follow
Paint boat punt enter flower deep place
Scent float gold cup
Mist rain small small
One piece pipes song drunk in return
After the lotus flowers have opened- West Lake is good.
Come for a while and bring some wine,
There's no need for flags and pennants,
Before and behind, red curtains and green canopies follow.
The painted boat is punted in to where the flowers are thick.
Fragrance floats round golden cups,
Mist and rain are so, so fine,
In a snatch of pipes and song I drunkenly return.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Krishna Awakes
Krishna awake, for the day has dawned:
large, deep and lotus-like,
your eyes are as in the love-shaped lake
a pair of swans even a million Kamadevas cannot vie
with the bewitching beauty of your face;
the sun rises in the east,
a crimson ball the night is going
and the moonlight pales
the lamps turn dim
and the stars fade out
as though the bright radiance of wisdom's rays
dispels the pleasures that the senses tire,
and the light of hope chases away
the murky darkness of despair and doubt.
Listen, the birds sing
aloud with glee O sweet child,
life of my life,
my sole wealth,
O darling boy,
bards and minstrels
sing your praises,
saying 'victory! victory!'
Clusters of lotuses burst into bloom
the bumblebees humming with sweet sound
leave the lotuses;
as though the devout renouncing worldly ties,
in your love drowned
chant your name as they go about.
Hearing his mother's words with love
drenched the Lord of Mercy arose from his bed;
the world's woes vanished,
maya's net was rent.
Says Suradasa,
'Seeing his lotus face delusion fled;
all doubts and dualities were destroyed and I found in Govinda eternal joy.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Quite
WHO does not love
the quite? that peace that caresses
the convolutions of
the brain
who is not in love with a floating lotus
flowering on top
of a mirror pond
the clouds too are moving on with their lives
but as silent as the glaciers
the worlds spins without sound
the Milky Way is like an spacecraft
bringing us all towards the direction
that it only knows
by heart
with all the
quite....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Soul Dies
Sky overcast, moon was sad.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Who killed the bird in morning rain?
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A hidden slaughterman did not die.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
The good old name now spells the doom.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
I will call you in pitch-dark night.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
Ascending gods have ruined my life.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
A child was stolen from a mother’s bed.
Ashes were sent to the lake.
poem by Satish Verma
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Art Of Lotus
Murky the heart soilure sad
Impatient the mind tainted
Dark and benighted
Absolving of sins
Meditate and contemplate multiple sittings
Resting like a lotus visioning a lotus
Does bloom a lotus?
Mire the pond muddy the aqua
Mucky mossy grimy etcetera
Afoul never the blooming flora
Lotus red and white and blue aesthetic vista
Aeonian seed speaks flowered to aura
Its austere affinity to climatic aroma
Extends over cosmology the hidden dogma
Conserves murky though a pond a seed
Ages later a lotus to bloom and heed
Nerves mucky heart its enigma
Births later enlightened to defeat stigma
In the heart's cave karmic-insight a 'lotus - dogma'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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I love you, sweetheart!
Lotus opens her petals
The lake hosts our love.
haiku by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Moonlake Ghosts
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Scraps of Cloud in Rosy Dusk
Scrap rosy cloud evening rays west lake good
Flower bank duckweed sandbar
Ten qing ripple peaceful
Wild bank without person boat self line
West south moon on float cloud scatter
Veranda railing cool born
Lotus scent clear
Water face wind come wine face sober
Scraps of cloud in rosy dusk- West Lake is good.
Flowers on the bank, duckweed on sand,
A hundred acres of peaceful ripples,
On the overgrown bank, no man- just the stroke of a boat.
South-west, across the moon, scattered clouds are drifting.
Cool rises at the terrace rail,
Lotus flowers' scent is clear,
Wind from the water's face makes the wine face sober.
poem by Ouyang Xiu
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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We just bought this house. It's too big. It's like 400,000 square feet, or something. We got an indoor lake and ski slope in the house! It's just too big.
quote by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There’s a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn’t scared for he couldn’t
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don’t know if he’s lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don’t want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I’ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It’s not like eating at Denny’s
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Christina Sunrise Feb.21,2011
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ghosts By Moon Lake
There's a lake off of Moon Lake Road,
where stories are woven and retold.
about longtime gangster Al Capone.
Now I stayed in a house
right across the street,
and believe me I did not see,
but I heard a ghost talk to me.
See now legend has it,
that Al put people in this lake,
Now ghosts are around make no mistake.
I was in this house with Uncle Lenny,
he wasn't scared for he couldn't
hear a dropp of a penny.
He told me the ghosts leave him alone,
for they know he's handicapped
unlike his nephew Tone.
Yes, Tony said he heard them too,
I don't know if he's lying
or what he says is true.
All I know I don't want to go back,
you can laugh at me and call me a quack.
I'ld rather see a ghost
then have one move my stuff,
that is scary and this I can't rebuff,
It's not like eating at Denny's
and having a lunch,
I believe in ghosts with an
absolute hunch.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on Feb.21,2011
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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