The meaning of life is not to be discovered only after death in some hidden, mysterious realm; on the contrary, it can be found by eating the succulent fruit of the Tree of Life and by living in the here and now as fully and creatively as we can.
quote by Paul Kurtz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Fascination
Death fascinates;
Life can be cruel.
Death is my morbid but most-loved obsession.
Life is hard-
I am out of control.
Death is my relationship to reality-
Life is not fair.
Death is an entity of beauty, though
Life is strange…
Death is veracity, although it can be
The facet of my delusions-
I live my life while
Thoughts of death are so often invasive.
Death is mysterious, and
Life is a river refracting light-
Death is dark but intriguing.
Life is amazing.
Death in turn- is amazing as it can be.
I live my life in a dream world.
Death is indeed mysterious, although-
Life
Is
Stranger…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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For Those Who Grieve
no one
no one can really stop you
from eating the bark of the tree
the thick skin of the
fruit
no one can tell you what should have
been proper
or better
you like the skin and you throw away
the fruit that could have
satisfied your
thirst and hunger
the bark has poisoned you
the moon has warned you too well
the worm is wriggling
its frail and elongated
body
you have no ears
your sense of smell so badly damaged
and now you
are dying
no one tells you that life is as sweet
as the ripe fruit of the tree
that luscious flesh that flowing
juice
your gaze is sharp as a knife
stabbing even the
sun
and you are always right
what you have been searching
that can satisfy your hunger and thirst
is not found on the fruit
not even in the tree
it is in the poisonous bark
that useless skin
that silly coat
definitely it is not even here
where we are all grieving
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Living creatively is really important to maintain throughout your life. And living creatively doesn't mean only artistic creativity, although that's part of it. It means being yourself, not just complying with the wishes of other people.
quote by Matt Groening
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suttee
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?
Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Words
To speak, is to think - Exist.
We presume.
Throw around.
These exquisite realizations - Sounds.
Sounds, zounds! !
Composed all around.
To secure our thought.
A world made of noise.
Meaningless afterthought.
Justification of self.
To drown the other.
I wonder...
What other?
What self?
What cost?
Price, is it to be purchased?
Can one truly exist, if left alone?
Our meaning thus.
To build-up proof.
Memory - of us.
Present the evidence, on worth.
Where none otherwise.
Might be found.
Searching for Me.
Meaning and life.
Within the Valley.
Of the Shadow of Death.
Hoping to find.
Capture it.
Before It reaches out.
Buries me.
Into darkness.
Velvet mist.
So I wonder, my purpose.
Seek, if a soul could be found.
Its value discovered.
Bit-by-bit.
A letter, at a time - I plead.
Seek, for existence meek.
Some discovered, some lost.
Was to all, mischievously bound.
Thought to myself...
A purgatory, to endure.
Justify that heavenly joy.
Has it been earned or lost?
Without knowing - Without care.
Was my preaching.
Pathos, for naught?
Alas! ! !
What is life?
But bandying empty words.
In an hourglass...
poem by Ilari Rahja
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Death Dies Again
It was death himself
at my swords tip
shocked at his predicament
unaccustomed as he was
to insouciance
and unfamiliar he was
with his own impending ending.
How do you tell Death that
his own death comes?
He said.
'How am I to meet
alls end this way
when I am the very symbol
of the terminus;
the end for all and the other many? '
'Tell me how I am come to this end;
the irony of my own dead death
now near? '
'Death must die' I said
as life itself begins'
'Its not so mysterious Death
to understand.
You are not the end but
my own beginning
and I am life's insistence at the beginning;
that coming to the fore
youth moving to sure
and steady borning.
'That is the cycle of all things, '
I said.
'You die death;
not a sad departing
but my own new beginning.
'How sad' Death said
'I understand your glib reckoning
but my death to me is personal
and while the Great Cycle
to you is mesmerizing
for me it is my fully sensed ending.
Endings are personal and while
loves I've known
have found new loves
it has not
and did not
obliterate
old love's ending.
And that is I.
Old loves die
and their death
is not erased
by new love's
beginning;
they fade
away amid the sad
sighings
we hear at night
when alone
in our beds
in the dark
crying.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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A Tree's Fruit
Good fruit or bad fruit, a tree can only bear one,
This parable was taught by God's one and only Son.
First mentioned by John as a warning for the Pharisees to heed,
But being blind to The Truth, most of them would not believe.
Your life is the tree and your deeds are the fruit,
This is a simple analogy that it hard to dispute.
But the Pharisees who knew the Word and lived in the land,
Were rebuked by John the Baptist, as they didn't understand.
Christians need to produce fruit for the Lord and nothing less,
And all the fruit that we produce should be fruits of righteousness.
Our old nature will produce fruit that comes from the past,
Not only is this fruit bad, but it's the kind that won't last.
Not only is bearing good fruit The Lord's heart desire,
But trees that continue to bear bad fruit may be cast in the fire.
Within your own heart is where the good or bad fruit is stored,
And by your fruits men will know you, is made clear by The Lord.
The fruit of righteousness is a tree of life, was once said,
However, a tree that bears bad fruit may be eternally dead.
What fruit you produce is strictly your choice my dear friend,
And by this choice you will either be blessed or condemned.
( 03/2002)
A short poem on life
Life is a gift
life can be cruel
life can be kind
life can be hard
life can be tough.
life is mysterious
life is strange
life is complex
life is weird.
life has twists
life has turns
life has ups
life has downs.
life for good
life for bad
life for war
life for peace.
life and love
life and hate
life and growth
life and death.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Whatever relationships you have attracted in your life at this moment, are precisely the ones you need in your life at this moment. There is a hidden meaning behind all events, and this hidden meaning is serving your own evolution.
quote by Deepak Chopra
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Death's Dance
One cold winter's night amid a storm
I heard a knock at the door
It was Death asking to warm himself
Beside the fire so I let him in
You may think I was insane but quite the contrary
Death is the origins of all our joy and sorrow
For without Death, there is no life
Without Death, there are no drums
Death played his song while I danced
Though I didn't know the steps
All the while my love for Him grew
And when I finally stopped
I found myself weeping...
Because at last I understood.
poem by Robin Pitt
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What Is...?
What is the meaning of hate?
Is it the dislike of someone different than you?
Or is it the loathing of something simple like broccoli?
What is the meaning of discrimination?
Is it the hatred of someone of a different background?
The hatred of skin color;
Or is it the bitter taste of being different from everyone else?
What is the meaning of uniqueness?
Is it the purpose of being odd and unusual?
The adaptation to your own life and style;
Or is it the stereotypical clan that society has put you?
What is the meaning of life?
Is it that time keeps moving; leaving us in the dust is leaves behind?
The endless stream of consciousness that everything has;
Or is it the meaningless and indefinable thing we give every day?
What is the meaning of death?
Is it that grim reaper knocking at your door?
The inky blackness of nothing;
Or is it something that can’t be defined only experienced when it is time?
Many questions are asked everyday without even meaning to ask them.
They are hidden within the minds of those who are too afraid to speak out;
To let THEIR voices be heard.
So I ask you these questions in hope that you will ask them yourself;
To find the meaning of it for yourself and not what others say it is.
One final question is all I leave you with.
What is the meaning of everything that you thought you knew?
poem by Regan Meade
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Writ On The Steps Of Puerto Rican Harlem
There’s a truth limits man
A truth prevents his going any farther
The world is changing
The world knows it’s changing
Heavy is the sorrow of the day
The old have the look of doom
The young mistake their fate in that look
That is truth
But it isn’t all truth
Life has meaning
And I do not know the meaning
Even when I felt it were meaningless
I hoped and prayed and sought a meaning
It wasn’t all frolic poesy
There were dues to pay
Summoning Death and God
I’d a wild dare to tackle Them
Death proved meaningless without Life
Yes the world is changing
But Death remains the same
It takes man away from Life
The only meaning he knows
And usually it is a sad business
This Death
I’d an innocence I’d a seriousness
I’d a humor save me from amateur philosophy
I am able to contradict my beliefs
I am able able
Because I want to know the meaning of everything
Yet sit I like a brokenness
Moaning: Oh what responsibility
I put on thee Gregory
Death and God
Hard hard it’s hard
I learned life were no dream
I learned truth deceived
Man is not God
Life is a century
Death an instant
poem by Gregory Corso
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Dead and Living
Dead are those sentences of death,
Finding a life is too good and short,
Feeling me is like feeling everything.
Dead leaves are grown first by trees,
The fierce winds are subjugating
The tree, flower and plant.
Life carries the meaning we give to life,
Living is suitable only for a time,
Love him over a tablet taken on time.
Go to the entrance of life and all it entails,
For to judge the lord and lady is a must
For those who read the papers.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The English Language
English reminds me of a language too bold,
Speaking this tongue is like a magical realm.
In this realm we spoke too audaciously and lovingly,
To be free and caring about the old, the very youngest old,
A fine and cosy people of strength in the body,
That soon overpowered the standards of everyday life.
English is a spoken language of England,
The old refrain from the seas of language and thought,
For the seas mix their sentences and paragraphs,
Too tired is the sea of too many friends of the water,
Water is fighting for words that carry meaning
With the life to save a slave who asks for the life of meaning.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Car Vision
The zooming vision of this vehicle of death
I call a car: one of the latest inventions
Of an era that seeks living and learning of death
And life. Properness shall lead the vehicles to heaven
Where we keep the transport and going.
Life has zoomed a sight of a car,
The blended authority with art, fully an empire.
poem by Naveed Akram
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About War!
Bitter conflict!
The earth is crying blood
Life is dying!
People are turning against each other
We turn against ourselves and walk away.
Never to return?
Ever so gently, softly
We turn around and walk together, bleeding.
Slowly, injured life is healing.
A mark remains,
Yet becomes hidden by the spoils of life.
Life likes living.
Do we know what life is?
We certainly don't know without it!
Does it know what it is?
It only likes living.
For what?
For us to realise this!
Ha! and yet we destroy it
carelessly, thoughtlessly.
One instant,
life is going to destroy itself.
Because it is lonely living
in a world where
we do not like living with it.
The way we came about together
- one giving one receiving.
But now it is a different story.
A story that might not be told
in life, except death.
__________________________
The Soul of man
Is the child of Life
------
Who are we to pass judgement?
but fools in the eyes of Truth!
__________________________
poem by George Krokos
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A Living Death
I think of
All the people
I've lost to
Death.
I miss them
All…
Can anybody
Answer
What happened
To them
After their death?
Are they living
Another life
As is the belief
In after-life
Or are they still
Loitering…
In the lanes
Of death?
If so,
Can those
Wandering
Spirits and souls
Let me know,
How does it feel
To be with death?
Is it better than life,
Which seems to me
A Living Death…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Short
The depth of life
The length thereof
The depth of a life
The years thereof
The depth of your life
The distance from your first wisp of
Earth's worried air of
Life to the finish line of
A life well lived or of
One which was spent waiting for
The future which may or may not
Hold you in it for
Today is given you to
Make all the difference you can and to
Smell all the flowers you can and to
Love as deeply as you can and to
Let laughter break some ribs and to
Let rain drown your tears and to
Give yourself away and to
Worship as truly as you can and to
Leave your worries in yesterday then
Do the things fear won't let you do then
Say the things that matter most then
Do the things you haven't done then
Do the things you have to do and then
Give a life a meaning
Find life's meaning
Hidden in love's meaning
And your life meaning
Breathing in God's meaning
And pick up a book of meanings
To check the short meaning
Of short and find that that's the
Aching distance from the
First intake of air to the
Last release of the same.
poem by Jenim Dibie
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