I once asked a hermit in Italy how he could venture to live alone, in a single cottage, on the top of a mountain, a mile from any habitation? He replied, that Providence was his next-door neighbor.
quote by Laurence Sterne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A Perpetual Stream Of Sacred Consciousness
I asked the mountain
You are very strong
you will exist till the end of creation
The mountain replied numbly
No, Nay, not so
the water can flow me and
convert me to a plain land
then my existence will vanish
I asked the rock
no one can melt you
the rock also replied numbly
No, Nay not so
the water can melt me
and I will be no more
I asked the trees
the water will destroy you
the tree replied
No, Nay not so
it shall irrigate me and
give me life
I asked each and every creatures
all replied
water is more soft, more rich
and more strong
it can destroy and give life too
it can quench thirst of all
and give life to all
I asked the Water
You are soft and mild
You are rich and strong too
The water replied
No, Nay not so
I may be dried at any time
It is poetry,
a perpetual stream of sacred consciousness
flowing ever and ever
beyond the stars and planets and
even beyond plenty of universe
The Poetry can save me and
pray to God for my survival.
poem by Ramesh Rai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love
I asked of Time to tell me where was Love;
He pointed to her foot-steps on the snow,
Where first the angel lighted from above,
And bid me note the way and onward go;
Through populous streets of cities spreading wide,
By lonely cottage rising on the moor,
Where bursts from sundered cliff the struggling tide,
To where it hails to sea with answering roar,
She led me on; o'er mountain's frozen head,
where mile on mile still stretches on the plain,
Then homeward whither first my feet she led,
I traced her path along the snow again;
But there the sun had melted from the earth
The prints where first she trod, a child of mortal birth.
poem by Jones Very
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The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Conversation with God
One day while I was dreaming I heard a soft like voice
It called me to a pond
and asked to recite
the stories of my childhood
I thought it very strange
Then with deafening noise it came
It took me to the pond and asked me 'what I could see'
'I see me' I replied
'Very good' it said
'Now do you see' it asked
'I see a little child with hair as bright as fire'
'Who is that child' it asked
'It is me' I replied again
'Do you remember what that child was like'
'No' I replied
'Until you become a child again you'll see no more'
'I do not understand' I said
'You will' came the voice
'When' I asked
'When you believe that I am real'
'But you are real' I answered
'Only one who truly believes can understand'
poem by Rachel Branscombe
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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And Pussy cat
Pussy pussy cat pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to London
To look at the queen
Again I asked Pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to Odisha
To look at English
Rule of Nabin.
Pussy cat pussy cat
Further I asked where
Have you been and
Pussy cat replied
He had been to see
Odia people who are fool
And how odia people
Still remain cool
Pussy pussy cat
I asked where have
You been and pussy cat
Replied he had been
To India to see
The democratic rule.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Help Wanted
Single momma went to the fridge and
It was bare, as being the provider for her household
She was filled care.
Yet she remember that God promised to always be there
Suddenly she had no fear
There was a knock her door,
a unfamiliar face she was out there
A neighbor told a friend, that this single parent job
sadly had to end also
She needed to be encouraged that she could still win
That stranger which is now a friend
came to bring bags of groceries and clothing
It seemed to no end
The help uplifted the mother
They all now are consider friends
They each assist others when in need
They teach the hurting
just how to live again
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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An Assumption Of Money To Be Made
If they ever asked why I'm doing all this?
I will answer with a single remark.
To save a life.
If they ever asked what if you fail?
I will answer with a single remark.
I have but, I'm still here.
If they ever asked now that your accomplished what's next.
I will answer with a single remark.
What I do will not change, at least not for intentions of fame.
If they ever asked, if offered money to stop what your doing would you?
I will answer with a single remark.
No I will not be bought.
'So let me get this straight your completely honest? '
Yes I try to be.
'Well I still don't believe you.'
Well I never I asked you to or care if you do.
Your the one who wanted answers to those questions.
I gave you my answers, take it or leave it.
'I have to go because your not going to make me any money.'
That's fine because I've never said I would.
Your the one who assumed that.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Clothes Line
After a while we took in the clothes,
Nobody said very much.
Just some old wild shirts and a couple pairs of pants
Which nobody really wanted to touch.
Mama come in and picked up a book
An papa asked her what it was.
Someone else asked, what do you care?
Papa said, well, just because.
Then they started to take back their clothes,
Hang em on the line.
It was january the thirtieth
And everybody was feelin fine.
The next day everybody got up
Seein if the clothes were dry.
The dogs were barking, a neighbor passed,
Mama, of course, she said, hi!
Have you heard the news? he said, with a grin,
The vice-presidents gone mad!
Where? downtown. when? last night.
Hmm, say, thats too bad!
Well, theres nothin we can do about it, said the neighbor,
Its just somethin were gonna have to forget.
Yes, I guess so, said ma,
Then she asked me if the clothes was still wet.
I reached up, touched my shirt,
And the neighbor said, are those clothes yours?
I said, some of em, not all of em.
He said, ya always help out around here with the chores?
I said, sometime, not all the time.
Then my neighbor, he blew his nose
Just as papa yelled outside,
Mama wants you t come back in the house and bring them clothes.
Well, I just do what Im told,
So, I did it, of course.
I went back in the house and mama met me
And then I shut all the doors.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jericho
Tom Johnston
Windecor Music (BMI)
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Catherine the Great and brave Ulysses
Playin' checkers out in the sun.
Jesse James and young William Bonnie
Have started a religion for everyone.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Well the drums they are loud down in rap town,
But the Pope has been quiet for days.
Well some gunmen robbed a bank in California
And the cops blew them all away.
If you don't like the picture don't turn it off.
The only way to change it is to do it yourself.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Peace and love on the wings of a dove
Has flown away.
We're payin' the rent
On the blood that's been spent,
On a mortgage that's too high to be paid.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Well I'm standin' on top of the mountain
Just about a mile from Jericho.
And my throat is hot and dusty,
Down to the water I must go.
Arranged by Tom Johnston and Guy Allison
Guest Artists:
Marc Russo - Horns
Yvonne Williams and Maxayne Lewis - Background Vocals
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hand Of Providence
Michael w. smith
Providence, providence
See it laying down the cornerstone
The hand of providence - its evident
For we could never make it on our own
Apportioning the power
Weighing all that it entails
Giving us the fulcrum
And a balance to the scales
Chorus:
Oh, the hand of providence
Is guiding us through choices that we make
Oh, the hand of providence
Is reaching out to help us on our way
Providence, ever since
Any thesis ever entered man
The hand of providence
Has been our best defense
Tho his ways are sometimes hard to understand
From the dying of a heartbeat
To another soul reborn
From in between and circling
Our thoughts of love and war
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 15
A padshah, meeting a holy man, asked him whether he did not sometimes remember him for the purpose of getting presents. He replied: ‘Yes, I do, whenever I forget God.’
Whom He drives from his door, runs everywhere.
Whom He calls, runs to no one’s door.
Someone Patted On The Door
Some one patted on the door
I asked' who is it?
A never ending replied came
Though no one was there for me.
Night was dark, I was alone.
Before I reached, he was gone.
The tap on my door says something.
As has never been said to any human being.
The conclusion was clear, I was sure
The dilemma lied within myself
For the people you have never known.
The ups and downs do teach us
Since it is a part playing within again
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 01
One of the great devotees having been asked about his opinion concerning a hermit whom others had censured in their conversation, he replied: ‘I do not see any external blemishes on him and do not know of internal ones.’
Whomsoever thou seest in a religious habit
Consider him to be a religious and good man
And, if thou knowest not his internal condition,
What business has the muhtasib inside the house?
I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?
quote by Mother Teresa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘He came unto His own, and His own received Him not’
As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.
He asked in vain for a crust of bread,
Standing there in the frozen blast.
The door was locked and bolted fast.
‘Only a beggar!’ the poor man said.
Christ the Lord went further on,
Until He came to a palace gate.
There a king was keeping his state,
In every window the candles shone.
The king beheld Him out in the cold.
He left his guests in the banquet-hall.
He bade his servants tend them all.
‘I wait on a Guest I know of old.’
‘’Tis only a beggar-man!’ they said.
‘Yes,’ he said; ‘it is Christ the Lord.’
He spoke to Him a kindly word,
He gave Him wine and he gave Him bread.
Now Christ is Lord of Heaven and Hell,
And all the words of Christ are true.
He touched the cottage, and it grew;
He touched the palace, and it fell.
The poor man is become a king.
Never was man so sad as he.
Sorrow and Sin on the throne make three,
He has no joy in mortal thing.
But the sun streams in at the cottage door
That stands where once the palace stood.
And the workman, toiling to earn his food,
Was never a king before.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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The Hermit Crab
The hermit crabs life is all but exciting live all alone
and in the sahdows in the bottom of the teary sea
feelings no comfort and no love this crab is all alone
no friends and allways hurting everyone
he use to have friends till the day he found him self this shell of dark sleeping alone
and being alone this crab used that bad to fell worse
we the other crabs of life the ones that live a full happy life
need to find him/her and bring this hermit out of it's shell
show to the hermit that talking isn't all bad
but being alone is talk about your problems dont hide in a shell
I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Die
If I die tomorrow
Know that I lived
And that's all I could have ever asked for
If I die tomorrow
Know that I loved
And to be capable of love
Is all I ever really wanted
If I die tomorrow
Know that I tried
For all who live in silent desperate acceptance
Live a life of self-destruction
If I die tomorrow
Know that all was well
For all who live a single day
Know that tragedy can accompany you
The rest of days
If I die tomorrow
Know that I was inspired
For he who has never been inspired
Never looked at himself
As he should have
And if I die tomorrow
Know that my only will in life
Was to cause a single grain of sand to tumble
Within the infinite pile of identical grains
And cause a single reaction
In the desolate hour glass
Of our existence
poem by C.S. Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Neighbor, Neighbor
Neighbor, neighbor, why you messin in my life?
Neighbor, neighbor, youve been talkin to my wife,
Tellin her you seen me
Runnin wild the other night,
Runnin wild the other night.
A neighbor, neighbor, theress always one in every crowd.
A neighbor, neighbor, tellin lies and talkin loud.
You better watch your step now.
You might fall off your cloud.
You might fall off your cloud.
Now I was walking down a dusty road
When along came a neighbor of mine.
He saw me walkin with my head hung down,
He just had to stop and pass the time.
Neighbor, neighbor, floatin in the salty brine.
Floatin in the salty brine.
song performed by by ZZ Top
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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