Be not content with the best book; seek sidelights from the others; have no favourites.

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Healing Through Poetry

The content of her book is very nice
And what she writes about she knows
She tells us of her struggles so well
Her love for God and His Son just flows

I am so glad that I got her book
Faith thru her book the soul uplifts
From my heart I recommend it to you
'Healing through Poetry' is a poetic gift

I really enjoyed reading this book so much
She surely shares some of her hopes and pain
Her poetry is a true tale of faith and love
Mary's healing thru Christ shows not in vain

Wonderful author gave me another perspective
Her love for her son shines all the way indeed
Poetry content can bring inspiration to all
For my part I'm happy that her book I've read

November 22,2009


Author's note: 'Healing Through Poetry.' This is Mary Ann Duhart's first poetry book.

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These Are Ever My Favourites!

These Are Ever My Favourites!


The cool fluffy clouds that rush in
Out of nowhere to fill the skies
Just at the sight of the full milky moon
To passionately plant kisses on its cheeks
Are ever my favourites of nature!

All species of birds with numerous notes of calls
That unfurl their coloured wings
In enchanting styles of their own
And circling in brisk flights minding ever their tasks
Are ever my favourites of nature!

The great mountains towering into the skies,
That are the prides of the earth,
Sloping gracefully in their dreamy blue coats
And in the charm of the meditative silence
Are ever my favourites of nature!

Millions and millions of green trees
Though with thousands of wayward branches
Yet possessing an ineffable heavenly charm
Surpassing even that of a temple tower
Are ever my favourites of nature!

The ever flowing rivers with many a voice,
Many a flow and conversing in many a dialect
That adorn both sides of banks
With ornaments of green smiles
Are ever my favourites of nature!

All kinds of flowers and leaves
With innumerable shapes
And unparalled fragrances
Generously showering beauty
Are ever my favourites of nature!

From the friendly breeze
With its gentle touch as it whispers
To the biting chill winds of north
All families of winds in all of their moods
Are ever my favourites of nature!

All the tunes and beats
And melodies and monotony
Of the showering arrows of rain
From the dark complexioned warrior clouds
Are ever my favourites of nature!

Both father and mother
Who rain love reading our minds
And guide us judging our faculties
And shape us as responsible folks
Are ever my favourites of god!

My children at eight a.m. daily commotion
Waving their loving hands with verve
And cheering 'ta..ta, mom and dad! '
As they fly fast with bag load of books to school
Are ever my favourites of life!

-S.Chandra Kalaadhar

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I believe that the brain has evolved over millions of years to be responsive to different kinds of content in the world. Language content, musical content, spatial content, numerical content, etc.

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My work looks like a comic book in form, but it's not a typical comic book in content. I write autobiographical stuff.

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Open Book's Monologue Part 3: My Lie

Maybe a lie was told
Believed by all of you now old
If you read the open book
You'd see
The words 'I care nothing about how someone might look'
When searching for love for that girl that I want with me
Remember that and pay attention when the open book says looks are not
An issue
But realizing the lie, this book will need a strong tissue
For, the book will cry
And need support, no spine
Because if I care nothing about looks
Why do I want (maybe crave) to hold her or share a kiss?
How can this
Be true? Why does that matter? It should not!
I should be content with talking....feelings....not if she is hot
I tell myself if she is hot, such things matter to me not
But if that's true why do I want to hug or touch?
Why do I want the physical contact and such
How can I reconcile my claim, when once before
I loved a girl only for how she looked and that made her perfect
Without defect
How can I trust myself after that am I not something to abhor?
What can you do when a book you read does lie
That is the case with this open book, crafty and sly
I can't trust myself, but who else knows how I feel, who knows
Where my heart goes
And to where does it belong?
O how I long for the completion of love and affection
But how can I have that, when I can't handle it, I'm not mature
Plagued by imperfection
The flaw of my nature
What do I love? And what do I love about you?
But also if what I say even to myself can be a lie then just who
Just..... just who am I? ! ? ! ? ! ? ! ?

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Preface

This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak
of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour,
dominion or power,
except War.
Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry.
The subject of it is War, and the pity of War.
The Poetry is in the pity.
Yet these elegies are not to this generation,
This is in no sense consolatory.

They may be to the next.
All the poet can do to-day is to warn.
That is why the true Poets must be truthful.
If I thought the letter of this book would last,
I might have used proper names; but if the spirit of it survives Prussia, --
my ambition and those names will be content; for they will have
achieved themselves fresher fields than Flanders.

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Why.............?

The American book of 'why',
The Asian book of 'why',
The European book of 'why',
The African book of 'why',
The Australian book of 'why',
The most asked question in the valley of world events;
Especially when one explodes a bomb!

The Christian book of 'why',
The Muslim book of 'why',
The Jewish book of 'why',
The Hindu book of 'why',
The Krishna book of 'why',
lLife is like the yeast which makes the bread rise;
But, the writer always has his or her own mind.

The Pagan book of 'why',
The Buddhist book of 'why',
The Protestant book of 'why',
The Confucian book of 'why',
To all life's aspects with the remaining books of 'why';
Poetry is the literature that muses with the mind.

Shall the trumpet be blown in the city and,
The people will not be afraid?
Seven bulls and seven rams,
I am the planted tree by the rivers of waters.
I am very young in years but,
The word 'why' is the question that goes around easily.

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We Who....

we who would seek a home,
find our home with the homeless.
we who seek truth,
know the tree to be a tree!
we who seek liberty,
throw all that we own onto the fire.
we who seek love,
feed the hungry.
we who seek companionship,
simply become dialogue...
we who would seek god,
well, all of the above.
we who seek tomorrow,
give today to a stranger...
and wrap his feet up
with our dreams!

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The Best Book In The World

the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature


the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within


the best book
the only true book
(every other book is distortion)
is the world itself
the Book of Nature:
read it

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I read a book

I read a book
Not to enhance my looks

I read a book
Maybe to avoid being a crook

I read a book
Not just to learn how to cook

I read a book
To ascertain how to defend my rights
Not just to acquire knowledge
Reading a book I pledge,
Is one of the roads to the light

I read a book
To understand how a kings territory
Is defended with pieces such as the rook

I read a book
So there will be no questions asked
When I count correctly what you took

I read a book
So that I play not ignorant
Now on life I’ve a different outlook

I read a book
So if I come up with all the right answers
I will know for sure it is not merely a fluke

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

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John Keats

Fragment Of An Ode To Maia. Written On May Day 1818

Mother of Hermes! and still youthful Maia!
May I sing to thee
As thou wast hymned on the shores of Baiae?
Or may I woo thee
In earlier Sicilian? or thy smiles
Seek as they once were sought, in Grecian isles,
By bards who died content on pleasant sward,
Leaving great verse unto a little clan?
O give me their old vigour! and unheard
Save of the quiet primrose, and the span
Of heaven, and few ears,
Rounded by thee, my song should die away
Content as theirs,
Rich in the simple worship of a day.

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Seek

Seek and you will find
the glory of the divine,
seek and you shall see
the world and all its glory,
seek and you will feel
love’s arrow pierce your heart.
Seek and whatever you seek
will one day be yours,
but you must want it enough
to seek it out and find
the hidden dreams
that lay within your mind.

9 September 2008

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Emma's Dell

A poet roamed by rushing brook
Early springtime morning. The sound
Seemed softer than it should,
Tempered by, tempering,
Eager buds, new greens all around.
Still bare trees, they tempered too.
Contrast breeds content.

Then round a turn mad rushing brook
Maddened beast and bird.
Sound seemed of the air-
Like air, would never cease.
Green seemed of the rocks.
Content is content.

A cottage overlooked the brook.

'My thoughts at least are mine.

I've told them to the shepherds.
How contrast can contain content.
How content is content.
Pondering perhaps my words
Years after we are spent
They'll call the dell not what I call it,
They'll call it WILL'S DELL EMMA.'

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Book Of Guidance

Book of knowledge,
Book of truth,
The book of old,
Contains the youth,

This book has plenty,
On lies and deceit,
This reveals how to get up,
After every single defeat,

This book of love,
Tell the story,
Of the beauty's dove,
And Gods glory,

This book of life,
Is the way to live,
Be free be true,
Be pure all the way through,

Be trustworthy have honor,
Live long and prosper,
Please God and love your father,
Have fun and be one with your brother.

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William Shakespeare

Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars

Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars,
Unlooked for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread,
But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies burièd,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famousèd for fight,
After a thousand victories once foiled,
Is from the book of honour razèd quite,
And all the rest forgot for which he toiled.
Then happy I that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed.

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Snowed In

The slanting sleet
pounds against my window
it's not to long
'til the sleet turns to snow

I light the fire
keeping warm and content
I'll just keep waiting
for the weather to relent

The snow keeps falling
by now piling up high
the comfort of a good book
as the day is drawing nigh

rapped in my blanket
that I, myself, made
I look outside
and see how much has laid

the fire, now coals
I stir the orange embers
I sit on the couch
to just sit and remember

now it's off to bed
where I'll be warm and content
maybe as I sleep
the weather will relent

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Now, to describe the process of the Wrapped Reichstag, which went from 1971 to '95, there is an entire book about that, because each one of our projects has its own book. The book is not an art book, meaning it's not written by an art historian.

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The great book for you is the book that has the most to say to you at the moment when you are reading. I do not mean the book that is most instructive, but the book that feeds your spirit. And that depends on your age, your experience, your psychological and spiritual need.

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Ibrahim II

You are better off today than yesterday,
But tomorrow comes and it will be worst off!
Oh Ibrahim my lover! ! This is how the world is,
And we have to face the realities around us at all times.

Of the water which was turned into blood!
Of the River Nile which was turned into frogs!
But, there is One Law for us all;
Yes, One Law for the native born and for the stranger.

The book of war!
The book peace,
The book of joy,
The book of love,
The book of romance,
The book of rivers;
And like the first moon of the year! !
However, all the rivers that flow ends up to the sea.

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Book Of Black Holes

You be on yourside
I'll be on my side
In between there is a book
the book of Black Holes

You sling your arrows
I'll dodge the harrows
And then I'll record it
In the book of Black Holes

There be many pages
that goes through many stages
In the end you may find it
In the book of Black Holes

If it's a five or ten
Even a zero I win
And I have recorded it
In the book of Black Holes

Your comments cryptic
Your words haze, eliptic
And like I said goes down
In the book of Black Holes

Your choice to be insipid
Your dreams are timid
Compared to what's collected
In my book of Black Holes

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