It seldom happens that any felicity comes so pure as not to be tempered and allayed by some mixture of sorrow.
quote by Miguel de Cervantes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pessimism and Optimism
Life is love, lovely and loving
Grief influences life better than everything.
Having ever so beauty as like as heaven
Life is a strong attraction of spiritual illusion.
I love the wonderful world and want to love
I see the repentance of a dove.
I find felicity whenever and wherever
I encircle grief to form a wreath of cheer.
It is simple math, life is unique and felicity is enormous
Having sense of sorrow is inadmissible and obvious.
Making the obviation of sorrow is needed must
To be enjoyable and carefree in the universe
Grief is the founder of felicity forever
Helps to know ownself with the existence.
poem by Onon Sarker
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When you see anyone complaining of such and such a person's ill-nature and bad temper, know that the complainant is bad-tempered, forasmuch as he speaks ill of that bad-tempered person, because he alone is good-tempered who is quietly forbearing towards the bad-tempered and ill-natured.
Sagacity of Sorrow
Some cursed moments busy to narrow
The pathway of mind, soul and feelings
Enhance enigma of life; ultimately sorrow
Are result of ambition for felicity.
Joyous and pompous thought arise in mind
Induces to crash with delicacy of feelings
Making one crass to own. Turn individual's
Claim to calm through darkish insight.
Though sorrow seems to be scattered externally
Acts as alignment to express notion earnestly
Which helps mind to make determined concentration
To attain sensational and sustainable destination.
Sorrow can feel love of heart, love of life
Can react with mind blowing intentation
Helps to recognize sorrow to make it felicity
Towards a dreamy and noteworthy horizon.
poem by Onon Sarker
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Hardened And Tempered
I once was forsaken
Broken and blind
I was lost in the darkness
I was lost in my mind
Hardened and tempered
Refined of all dross
Hardened and tempered
Whatever the cost
And then I found Jesus
Now forever I'll be
Bathed in your beauty
Closer to thee
Hardened and tempered
And only for thee
Hardened and tempered
To thine arms I flee
poem by Frank McEleny
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Tempered by Fire
Fire burning oh so pure
Calm, steady and so secure
Strength tested by the fire
Burning through one heart's desire
As if forming fine steel
All that one knows and feels
Stripped of emotions completely
A cleansing so bitter sweet
Tempered in bright fire
With one heart's desire
To the very depth of one's soul
Beyond to it's fiery core
Trying to escape from the pain
Wanting so much to gain
As if in a deep and dark well
Struggling to remove a painful shell
Running tired from the sorrow
Looking for joy on the morrow
Forced through one's grief
As if shaken by a thief
Consumed with pain and grief
Leaving one so very weak
Tested and tempered by fire
Flames that purified one's desire
poem by Lorie Robertson
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Human felicity is produced not as much by great pieces of good fortune that seldom happen as by little advantages that occur every day.
quote by Benjamin Franklin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sun Crazy Sun
sun crazy sun
very disobedient and ill-tempered
unwilling to listen
to shine not too hot and not scorch the earth
and bad-tempered with its flares
poem by Raj Arumugam
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There is no earthly reason why a solo string instrument or voice, having the possibility to play or sing pure intonation, should want, or try, to be tempered.
quote by Lara St. John
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The Bible is one of the greatest blessings bestowed by God on the children of men. It has God for its author; salvation for its end, and truth without any mixture for its matter. It is all pure.
quote by John Locke
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Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Liberalism is trust of the people, tempered by prudence; conservatism, distrust of people, tempered by fear.
quote by William Gladstone
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Liberalism is trust of the people tempered by prudence. Conservatism is distrust of the people tempered by fear.
quote by William E. Gladstone
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Herbert Marshall
All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me
Sprang from your delusion that it was wantonness
Of spirit and contempt of your soul's rights
Which made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you.
You really grew to hate me for love of me,
Because I was your soul's happiness,
Formed and tempered
To solve your life for you, and would not.
But you were my misery. If you had been
My happiness would I not have clung to you?
This is life's sorrow:
That one can be happy only where two are;
And that our hearts are drawn to stars
Which want us not.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty
My mother was fortune, my father generosity and bounty; I
am joy, son of joy, son of joy, son of joy.
Behold, the Marquis of Glee has attainted felicity; this city and
plain are filled with soldiers and drums and flags.
If I encounter a wolf, he becomes moonfaced Joseph; if I go
down into a well, it converts into a Garden of Eram.
He whose heart is as iron and stone out of miserliness is now
changed before me into a Hatem of the age in generosity and
bounty.
Dust becomes gold and pure silver in my hand; how then
should the temptation of gold and silver waylay me?
I have an idol such that, were his sweet scent scattered
abroad, even an idol of stone would receive life through joy.
Sorrow has died for joy in him of “may God bind your consolation”;
how should not such a sword strike the neck of sorrow?
By tyranny he seizes the soul of whom he desires; justices are
all slaves of such injustice and tyranny.
What is that mole on that face? Should it manifest itself, out
of desire for it forthwith maternal aunt would be estranged from
paternal [uncle].
I said, “If I am done and send my story, will you finish it and
expound it?” He answered, “Yes.”
Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.
Jane Austen in Emma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In my other life ~ ~ ~ Song Lyric's
In my other life, I marched troops in formations
I manned the gun and turned them into men
In my other life, I had so many wayward women
They broke me down and made me, what I am
They showed me roads that men seldom travel
They taught me things can work only if, you try
That losing could mean your really winning
They showed me sorrow, and taught me, how to cry
In my other life, I consumed minds recreations
I made peace with myself, these insecurities, could not stand
In my other life, I lived with incarcerations
They broke me down and made me, what I am
They showed me roads that men seldom travel
They taught me things can work only if, you try
That losing could mean your really winning
They showed me sorrow, and taught me, how to cry
In my other life, I worked hard to make a living
I gave up my recklessness, and vowed never, to give in
In my other life, I was married and had children
There broke me down and made me, what I am
They showed me roads that men seldom travel
They taught me things can work only if, you try
That losing could mean your really winning
They showed me sorrow, and taught me, how to cry
In my other life, I was drawn to the Truth and His resurrection
I confessed my sins, by faith believed and made Him, my Lord
In my other life, I learned to die to self and surrender
Conviction broke me down; the Blood made me, what I am
He showed me a narrow road men seldom travel
He gave me grace to change, in the Sweet, by and by
That losing could mean your really winning
He showed me His love, the price He paid, the reason why
He showed me His love, the price He paid, the reason why
Words & Music by Gene Gamble/Two-G’s Music © 1995
poem by Gene Gamble
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Aurobindo-20-Savitri-Book -2
An appreciation on Savitri-
Book II The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds
Canto III The Glory and the Fall of Life
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's
'There life is the manifest Incalculable, '
'A vexed disturbance in the eternal Calm,
An impulse and passion of the Infinite.'
'Careless of suffering, heedless of sin and fall,
She wrestles with danger and discovery
In the unexplored expanses of the soul.'
Upping to only fall on the uncertain stairs
Falling to only up on the guessed heights..
'A huge inconsequence was her action's law,
As if all possibility must be drained,
And anguish and bliss were pastimes of the heart.'
'A scene was planned for all her numberless moods
Where each could be the law and way of life,
But none could offer a pure felicity; '
True, joy and sorrow is her wheeling destiny
In wholesome eccentric cycles aplenty
'Fate's dreadful swing she has taken for cradle and seat.
Yet pure and bright from the Timeless was her birth, '
'In an architecture of hieratic Space
Circling and mounting towards creation's tops,
At a blue height which never was too high
For warm communion between body and soul,
As far as heaven, as near as thought and hope,
Glimmered the kingdom of a griefless life.'
'Towered spirals, magic rings of vivid hue
And gleaming spheres of strange felicity
Floated through distance like a symbol world.'
'In dream and trance and muse before our eyes, '
'Dream's truth made false earth's vain realities.'
So blessed if the whole why would be there enigma any..
............My consciousness this moment,
O'Guru, I'm in awe....in invincible heights
Ineffable Thee embellishing poetic creation
My inquisitive apprehension, erring Thee may opine
May thereso, let Savitri in my self arise
Aroused thereso be knowledge and fortune
poem by Indira Renganathan
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My Addictive Mixture Gets Ya!
You're gonna look for me one day,
And recite.
Every little nuance that you read...
That I write.
And every night before you go to bed...
When it hits you like a light!
You're gonna ask yourself what it is that I meant,
Stirring up your inner sight!
You are gonna,
Look for me one day...
And recite.
Every little nuance that you read...
That,
I write.
And every night before you go to bed...
When it hits you like a light!
You're gonna ask yourself what it is that I meant,
Stirring up your inner sight!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
You're gonna,
Look for me one day...
And recite.
Every little nuance that you read...
That,
I write.
'Cause...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
You're gonna look for me one day,
And recite.
Every little nuance that you read...
That I write.
And every night before you go to bed...
When it hits you like a light!
You're gonna ask yourself what it is that I meant,
Stirring up your inner sight!
Because my...
Addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Every night before you go to bed...
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
My addictive mixture gets ya!
Stirring up inside yo' head!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like My Own
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of a martyr'd soul,
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of one who is alone.
There's no sorrow like the sorrow of loving one who's gone,
There's never been a sorrow so much deeper than my own.