Trust no future, however pleasant
Let the dead past bury its dead
Act, - act in the living Present
Heart within and God overhead.
quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voices Of The Night : A Psalm Of Life
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! -
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Psalm Of Life
What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!--
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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A Psalm of Life
Tell me not in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou are, to dust thou returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, - act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sand of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solenm main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Dimension Merge
For us the past has gone and the present moves on
into the yesterday of a future’s present time.
Despite living in the future’s past this will not last,
present and future will very soon combine.
Future or dimension, to some a misapprehension,
but they are one in the same.
If there’s more than one, they will follow on
to leave one, with it’s present name.
On merging we’ll realise we’ve no future to recognise,
and the past and present is all we’ll know.
The past will still be renewed, with each day used,
but the future will mean only tomorrow.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Present
Bury the Past
Forget the Future
Think about the Present
Be alert and cautious in the present
Do not regret about the past
Or worry about the future
Past is gone
Future is unknown
Present is what you have today
So utilise it to the fullest extent
Its your life's biggest asset
That will fetch you great dividends
Realize that this is a gift given to you by God
That's why it is called as "PRESENT"
poem by Kavita Iyer
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A glorious past
Past is always glorious
by that only you have become known or famous
that must remain on or continuous
the reason may be many or various
you can't go by the past
though it might have ended fast
the present may still be eluded
if past is not at all included
you love the present and think of future
the thing which is not there for sure
Think of the past with little from present
you won't feel future too absent
don't read much about anything
you will have to prove for everything
you can't trust the present trend
you may plan accordingly with some mends
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Conscience Speaks
Sun is bright in the sky,
The old man walks and sighs.
He walks up the lane, stops and looks for a shade
Stops and takes a cold breadth;
My heart shakes, emotions pour through the eyes:
Why is it so?
Stress should I put on heart or brain.
My body shivers, eyes add to the fuel.
He comes to know of my stress.
Future Past or Present is it;
Ambiguity throws a coat.
FUTURE- Negative capability is the answer
Future and past go hand in hand,
Sins of past drowising in my heart,
Bring the fear of Future.
PRESENT- What is now is because of past,
What will come, a product of present.
Present, past and future housed both in heart and brain.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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0984..... LIVE in the PRESENT
Past and Future Are Mental Constructs
LIVING in the NOW is MEDITATION
THE POWER is always in THE “NOW”
MOST DIFFICULT is to LIVE IN THE PRESENT
Mind likes illusions for Living in Past and Future is Illusion
TVs, Cinemas, Day Dreaming push you out of NOW
Boozing, Drugging, Philandering kick you out of NOW
Learn to live in THE NOW, For NOW only is REAL.
Our Mind is Always Caught up in PAST or FUTURE
Living in the PRESENT is CONQUERING the SELF
“Now” is only REAL for 'Now' only EXISTS
Alas! Many Poets always Live in PAST or FUTURE!
(25-April-2010, Chennai)
poem by Gan Chennai
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A Smothering of Poets
A love which ends badly-
if we let it-
freezes Time;
and we move on
covering it;
leaving it unchanged and unresolved.
We plant the last Kiss
with a question mark
knotted in the Semi-finish..
We drag our Dead Poet Love
into the future
bound and gagged
in the truck of the car
because all past loves
are Dead Poets;
we ignore the muffled cries
in the rear;
drive toward the future
tamping down the present
with a finger
dipped in
past and jaded memory.
We smother old past poets
put them away in the dark closet
because New Love
most often
doesn't share our love of
Former Poetries.
We reel in the Future now
before it is born;
strangled;
we make Hope for New Love
to lie
down in the cold;
but, our warm coat
is in the closet
which means
at odd times
in the chill
we dream of dead poets,
who sometimes
don't remain
dead still
in the trunk of the car
in the closet
in the category
nil.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Live In The Past
For those who are destined to live in the past
Each 'What could have been? ' is amassed
To a degree where no other timeframe can last.
'If onlys' overshadow the present so that today
Is doubted, then cursed; finally withering away.
The resulting void means they'll never have a chance
To even hope for a future to unfold and advance.
Not an instant or an inch of the past can be changed.
This is why it's sad for lives the past has rearranged.
For these tragic lives it actually can be said
That with no present or future they're virtually dead.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Past Was Goodly Once
The Past was goodly once, and yet, when all is said,
The best of it we know is that it's done and dead.
Dwindled and faded quite, perished beyond recall,
Nothing is left at last of what one time was all.
Coming back like a ghost, staring and lingering on,
Never a word it speaks but proves it dead and gone.
Duty and work and joy--these things it cannot give;
And the Present is life, and life is good to live.
Let it lie where it fell, far from the living sun,
The Past that, goodly once, is gone and dead and done.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Wayfarers
Still the white stars burn overhead,
The green earth swings upon her way:
Where are the voices of the dead,
The hearts of Yesterday?
Drawn by what strange, mysterious power,
From what dream world and magic sky
Came they to laugh on earth an hour,
To weep, to toil, to die?
And whither gone? On what wild flight
By planet pale and sceptred star?
What realms of sorrow or delight
Now wander they afar?
Pale Wayfarers, whose noiseless tread
Is near me as I seem to see
The mighty generations dead,
And all that yet shall be!
Are Past and Future, then, a breath
That one vast Present makes its own?
The Angel, Birth, the Shadow, Death,
Each guards a world unknown.
Wayfarers all, we know not whence
We came, nor whitherwards we go.
Deep in our hearts a haunting sense
That somewhere we shall know.
Still the white stars burn overhead,
The green earth swings upon her way:
Where are the voices of the dead,
The hearts of yesterday?
poem by George Essex Evans
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Shadows
We peer into the shadows
where yesterday’s sunlight glows,
trying to capture and hold
yesterday’s sunlit gold.
We peer into tomorrow
to predict and plot
where that sun will likely go
(but where, perhaps, it will not) .
Today’s sunshine still blazes
its disc ever overhead.
Past and future are autumn hazes
that drift through the land of the Dead.
The land of the Dead.
Dead.
Remember the Light;
the Light
that shines
in the darkness.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Three Coins
In the fountains of our youth
are scattered three coins of our life.
The past, the present and the future
all of them lay there.
As we dip into the waters,
we try to pluck out each coin.
We may grab the past,
maybe even the present,
but the future lies beyond our reach
elusive, as it will always be.
We have lived the past,
the present we are living.
However, the future
is never ours to see
and so we leave the three coins
in the fountains of our youth
where they will always be.
19 August 2009
poem by David Harris
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Future
Philosophers say
Is an illusion
For each second that is in the coming
Is uncertain
Hazy and a mirage
Past is lost
And it is spilt milk
Nothing can be done
With the past
Each previous second is as past
As the previous century
They suggest
For keeping up with the pace of time
It would be wise
Not to dream of the future
And not to lament on the past
Enjoy the present
It is easier said than done
We keep busy thinking
Either about the future
Or keep grumbling with the past
Memory and acquired experience
Will not allow us
To thoughtfully digest
Events occurring at the present
It is also not debatable
The quality of the present second
Depends on
The quality of the efforts
Made in the previous second
Where we are and
What we are
All because of our
Struggle or otherwise
In the past
Past experience and
Our present standing
Take us where we will be tomorrow
It will not be unwise
To a dream a future
Matching our skills
And the present position
We often dwell in a future
That is not achievable
With our present standing
And our capabilities
Unrealized future
Makes us feel sad
Be ever be in touch future
As the present second only
Manifests itself as a future
Know what you do
Know what you have as means
To take you into
The dreamt future
A colourful future is not an impossible realm
To be scaled
If you take seriously the means
To be there
Your present actions
Are executed only
To be sure that
You are
There in that wonder tomorrow
That dream keeps you
Motivated in going ahead
That dream keeps you
On the path of learning
That dream keeps you
Innovating new solutions
That dream keeps you
Enjoy what you do
That dream keeps you
Enthused in living
That dream keeps you
Looking for opportunities for improvement
Be in touch with dream ever
And
Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Though philosophically non-existent
Which only helps you realize your potential
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Ghosts of Dreams
We are all of us dreamers of dreams,
On visions our childhood is fed;
And the heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead.
From childhood to youth's but a span,
And the years of our life are soon sped;
But the youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead.
'Tis a cup of wormwood and gall,
When the doom of a great man is said;
And the best of a man is under a pall
When the best of his dreams is dead.
He may live on by compact and plan
When the fine bloom of living is shed,
But God pity the little that's left of a man
When most of his dreams are dead.
Let him show a brave face if he can;
Let him woo fame and fortune instead;
Yet there's not much to do, but to bury a man
When the last of his dreams is dead.
poem by William Herbert Carruth
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Learn Ramdas!
Learn Ramdas,
if one is either lost in the
memories of past which are dead
or
lost in thinking about unborn
future, surely one is absent in the
present!
living in the present,
is presence of mind,
living in the past or future is
absence of mind.... Just like Shakunthala lost in
memories got cursed,
for absence of mind!
Every moment we encounter
with various forces of nature,
we get cursed, for absence of mind,
either by imperfect souls,
or imperfect gods
or demons
those are one with
natural forces! Presence of mind and absence of
mind,
let us know which is more
helpful!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Soul On Fire
Theres a flame that leads our souls astray
No ones safe from its tender touch of pain
And every day its looking for new slaves
To celebrate the beauty of the grave
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverance
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
And again were falling for disgrace
And hate will shelter us from the rain
We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame
And gently raped by the light of day
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
Addicted to our divine despair
(? )
But you will follow us to death
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
With a soul on
Soul on
Soul on
Fire
Soul on fire
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soul On Fire
There's a flame that leads our souls astray
No one's safe from its tender touch of pain
And every day it's looking for new slaves
To celebrate the beauty of the grave
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverance
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
And again we're falling for disgrace
And hate will shelter us from the rain
We are enslaved by the sacred heart of shame
And gently raped by the light of day
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
Addicted to our divine despair
The venom of the cross we bear
The guilt will follow us to death
We are like the living dead
Sacrificing all we have
For a frozen heart and a soul on fire
We are like the living dead
Craving for deliverence
With a frozen heart and a soul on fire
With a soul on
Soul on
Soul on
Fire
Soul on fire
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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