Science and technology revolutionize our lives, but memory, tradition and myth frame our response. Expelled from individual consciousness by the rush of change, history finds its revenge by stamping the collective unconsciousness with habits, values, expectations, dreams. The dialectic between past and future will continue to form our lives.
quote by Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Expelled from individual consciousness by the rush of change, history finds its revenge by stamping the collective unconsciousness with habits and values.
quote by Arthur M. Schlesinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Science and technology revolutionize our lives, but memory, tradition and myth frame our response.
quote by Arthur M. Schlesinger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Collective Thought
If you take the analogy of the sea with waves
you will see we are all the same.
We are all one collective consciousness like the sea
but then singular like the wave as one human being.
It is a illusion to harm someone without harming yourself
if we realized this we would change our train of thought.
To seek revenge is like cutting off your own hand
we are One consciousness if you can understand.
The Beings of Light just see us as a sea of color
we are separate vibrations but we are still like one another.
So look for the good in everyone to change the
collective thought—
we are all in this together to help turn things about.
poem by Christina Sunrise
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There Is No Such Thing As An Individual
She looked at me
and asked.
'What is your answer? '
I was startled
and caught up short.
Simple question.
But I did not know
what the answer was.
'Who am I'?
I blurted out
vying for time;
I gave her my name
narrowing it to the millions
of Jim Jones in the world.
But am I my name?
She said
What else.?
'I am Hedi's Father
and Lisa's husband'
but before this response rolled away
into silence
I knew it wasn't enough.
So who else?
'I like hockey' I said
and knew even this
fell short.
How do I single out
the Me among millions?
What could I say
without out offering
fingerprints or DNA?
What would you say?
Maybe I should have given her
an address.
Only I live there.
But my address
is not my essence.
So who
in fact
is the I-
the me,
that I see-
as individual
and precious?
I really didn't
at that point
have an answer.
What about achievements?
.
How many individuals have
my job
and my name?
Fewer still.
This at least narrows it.
But then
the thought came;
I am not an individual.
I am the Me that
has a family and a history
a genealogy;
only me
has that.
I am not an individual
but a person
who can be identified
in the web of relationships
which surround me;
have surrounded me;
which in the end
have defined me.
I am not an individual.
I am all the people who
have influenced me-
nurtured me been kind to me or hurtful.
So there is then
this myth of the individual
which is not so.
But if this is not true
is it not so that much
of society and indeed Democracy itself
is premised
on the creating the conditions
for individual expression;
individual growth?
Is this premise correct
and the individual lives;
or is it that more real
is society and social relationships.?
So which is which?
But then again, one cannot touch society.
Confusing no?
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Tradition
Tradition is just like one-way traffic over here,
And you can't change the minds of the people around;
For their lives are programmed like a robot.
The law is very difficult for them to obey,
And it is all about a different culture and different people;
But their lives are always programmed like robots.
The tradition over here is very strange to me!
And you can't change the very minds of these people;
But at times, it is just like broken pottery in the hands.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Multicultural Melbourne
Melbourne Immigration Museum
I stroll,
Past history,
Past lives,
Past stories.
I see for the first time MY nation’s history,
My nations courage,
My nations suffering,
My eyes glaze over
And realisation creeps up on me.
I see stories of the past and present,
Played out before me,
The lives of Australia’s people,
Australia’s history
poem by Katie Anne
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Sonnet- The Modern World
The modern man eats worms, insects and dirt,
And finds scientific reasons for the same!
With marriages at stake, men, women flirt;
The family in chaos! what a shame!
The foreign cultures worm their way to us;
Wrong-doers go scot-free many a time;
The ignorant ones follow, become worse;
Caught bad are the sane ones with lives sublime!
Man has become to core most immoral!
He has given up his sense of values;
And practicing sex most unnatural,
He lives in nudity with painted hues.
Through rapid advances that Science has made,
Allowed has man, his conscience to fade.
poem by John Celes
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Fifty Years Apart
They sit in the winter gloaming,
And the fire burns bright between;
One has passed seventy summers,
And the other just seventeen.
They rest in a happy silence
As the shadows deepen fast;
One lives in a coming future,
And one in a long, long past.
Each dreams of a rush of music,
And a question whispered low;
One will hear it this evening,
One heard it long ago.
Each dreams of a loving husband
Whose brave heart is hers alone;
For one the joy is coming,
For one the joy has flown.
Each dreams of a life of gladness
Spent under the sunny skies;
And both the hope and the memory
Shine in the happy eyes.
Who knows which dream is the brightest?
And who knows which is the best?
The sorrow and joy are mingled,
But only the end is rest.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Past Lives
An angel came to me last night
She saw me in a different light
She showed me things I thoughht I could be
Are not a million miles away
As surely as night follows day
It follows, Im a king not a slave
It is another case of dj vu
It seems to happen everyday
It all comes back to me whatever I do
Theres always been a price to pay
Past lives, past lives
You can never put the ghost to bed
Get the feeling that you live, forever she said
Past lives, past lives
Rub my stomach while I pat my head
Get the feeling in your mind
When youre out of your head
And to the eastern side of the bay
My shadow is sailing away
Treasure possessions and money to burn
I wont be taking these with me
I hear the echos and Ive nowhere to turn
After all Im at sea
Past lives, past lives
We can anchor off the coast she said
The storm will pass and the fog will clear in your head
Past lives, past lives
You can never put the ghost to bed
Get the feeling that you live forever she said
In another world when dreams collide
To the mocking bird of faith we tied
She comes to pass but not to stay
Through the looking glass, she fades away
Welcome to the house of usher
An angel came to me last night
She sold me down the river of life
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: God’s Love and Scriptures- Will Not Change
The world of men, women and children, change;
Their food-habits and dressing styles may change;
Their ways of talking, walking, laughing, change;
But Bible’s words are true and never change!
Man’s outlook and his sense of values change;
The weather, climate, seasons also change;
The water of rivers and seas may change,
But Scripture’s words are true and never change!
Man’s needs in life and ambitions may change
Man’s occupations, moral values, change
Man’s goals and approaches also may change,
But Holy Scripture’s words will never change.
The devils too, their tempting tactics, change;
God’s love for man is same and will not change.
poem by John Celes
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This technology will obviously become more prevalent. Who knows what will result? One thing is certain, computer technology will revolutionize the way we tell stories as much as movie film has.
quote by Chris Wedge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Past paved way for the future
Past paved way
For the present
Shall become past
To pave way for future
The cycle never stops
Present always
Compared to past
A better future
Wished by all
What will come?
Nobody knows
Hope and desire
Never ends
Brings light in eyes
And smile on face
Light or darkness?
Is a question
Answer to which
Nobody knows
One thing is certain
If one lives
Shall become old
Perish with time
Become memory
Of the past
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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We kinda look at this as the second or third chapter of our lives. After college, most people figure out what they want to do with their lives. But we already know what we want to do in the future and that is to continue to further our business goals.
quote by Mary-Kate Olsen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If genetic memory or racial memory persists, is it possible that individual memory also exists from previous lives?
quote by Taylor Caldwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Declining Forgiveness
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
With embellished insecurities...
Of memories flourished now gone.
Their mentalities are witnessed to be diminishing quick.
And within themselves,
They can not admit...
These times lived today,
Will not continue to permit...
An attention given,
To such stubbornly held sickness...
They have become riddled and sit with!
We must help those whose lives,
Are stuck in an unchanged past.
It is difficult for them to accept,
The times now out of their grasp.
The challenges ahead requires a collective focus,
That has to exist!
To be drained emotionally by someone misfit...
Detaches an empathy!
With a declining forgiveness,
Decaying with it!
And a healing affect,
Will for all go neglected
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bridge To Tomorrow
I stand on the bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
there is always hope
for caring and understanding
leading into new friendships
and new lives.
Where we can only cross
when this day passes from our lives.
The bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
our dreams will come true.
Where our lives as we know it
will change we hope for the better
and see new things
blossoming in our lives.
The bridge to tomorrow
where on the other side
destiny awaits to change our lives.
6 April 2009
poem by David Harris
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Chance, Destiny, Fate-Future
Chance, destiny, fate,
Call it what you will,
We have the ability to change ours
But our lives are not predestined
Just already seen by One
One who helps but doesn't push
Chance, destiny, and fate mean that our lives are predestined
Which they aren't
So I'll call it future
Now I don't believe that if someone sees their future,
That it is their real future
How can it be-they can now change it
I think that perhaps it is a possible future
Which is why there can't be predestining
Why do people believe in predestining?
Do they need to believe that it's not their fault
That their lives are in someone elses hands?
Are they afraid to be held responsible?
If predestining is real then they can't affect anything
Where's the meaning?
We make the choices
They are not already made
So go make them-Carefully!
But make them all the same-don't leave it to chance
It's YOUR future!
poem by Casey O'Sheridan
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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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Blessings In Best Wishes Dreams
health wealth well being is relative
to values qualifications expectations
dreamers must cost pay purchase price
whatever purchase price dream demands...
all dreams cost luck often achieves
little which attainment lasts in life
immortalize dreams in words actions
essence of lives lived mind permeates...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Parker Clare
To a forgotten culture perhaps he now belongs
The man who could sing over a thousand songs
The father of the famous poet John Clare
Even in his own time people like him were rare.
The ballad singer of the Helpston countryside
Hundreds of the old songs he sung with him died
So little of the oral tradition now remain
Forever lost not to be found again.
Two hundred years ago one of a dying breed
Poor Parker Clare he could not write nor read
Yet through his son his name lives on today
A memory lost but yet to fade away.
He came from an oral tradition that is forever gone
Yet memories of what was still living on
And at a time when great change was happening in his English countryside
Most of the songs he sung with Parker died.
A fading memory that won't fade away
And through his son his name still lives today
Still a genius in his own right the thresher Parker Clare
And even in his time his type were quite rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
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