Nothing hath separated us from God but our own will, or rather our own will is our separation from God.
quote by William Law
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Separation
How does one define separation?
What does one mean by separation?
Is it when breath is severed from the body?
Is it when the court of law declares 'divorced? '
How many separations come as blows!
How many, pass by silently!
How many separations we live with
And how many more do we contain!
Don't some come as relief too?
Tell me, my friend
Why do we always think of separation as external?
How many of us aren't really separated from our self?
Tell me, can you define separation for me?
20 May 2011
20.09hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
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Exile
By the sad waters of separation
Where we have wandered by divers ways,
I have but the shadow and imitation
Of the old memorial days.
In music I have no consolation,
No roses are pale enough for me;
The sound of the waters of separation
Surpasseth roses and melody.
By the sad waters of separation
Dimly I hear from an hidden place
The sigh of mine ancient adoration:
Hardly can I remember your face.
If you be dead, no proclamation
Sprang to me over the waste, gray sea:
Living, the waters of separation
Sever for ever your soul from me.
No man knoweth our desolation;
Memory pales of the old delight;
While the sad waters of separation
Bear us on to the ultimate night.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Honorable inclusion
Until you are cemented with bond
You will have no thought as first or second
You won’t know what is called separation
It has no special lamp for indication
Some of the separations are observed by all
Since it is established fact and permanent call
Life and death can’t be separated
One is linked to other and nicely corroborated
No one can separate the soul from body
This can’t be done by anybody
It is divine need and felt necessarily
When that takes place it is accepted happily
Some of the separations are body concerns
It gets sour when spoiled in turn
Where you can’t pull on any more
The separation is wanted therefore
It can be self inflicted or imposed
In both the cases trust is never reposed
The urgency of separations is felt
It is severing of relation and hitting below belt
Sometimes you need isolation from growing discontentment
You need peace and live in secluded place devoid of any comments
It can be detachment or separation from existing world
Where you develop tendency to remain in control and look very cold
If you are inclined to positive thinking
None of the concern may lead to any type of sinking
You may take it as part of life and reach to conclusion
That this is your fate and must find honorable inclusion
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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He Hath Given Me Knowledge
'Behold, He hath heard my cry by day,
And He hath given me knowledge by visions in the night time.'*
He hath too ensured a test of my faith, by way
Of separation from the object of my adorement, until the right time!
Were I left to my own devices, I would surely fail;
Because He loves me so very much, my Heavenly Father saw to avail
Me with the requisite strength of mind and faith of heart
To bide with patience, and await my true love's impart.
I would bide forever, if but rewarded with one day;
No matter of time, nor of distance, could cause my faith's allay;
I do not let doubt be; I carry not, worry;
I covet not, more devoutly; I need not, hurry;
Where and when He is assured that we are prime-
Then and only then, shall it be the right time!
*Book of Mormon,2 Nephi, Ch.4
-Maurice Harris,10 December 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Think twice
Love grows thicker
Whether or not together
Are she and he,
As long as
Each longs for the other.
Separation is not the end
If inspiration lasts till the end.
A neem coated capsule.
Once the longing is gone
And he is out thrown
Separation is the end.
Desperation stays till the end.
A sweet coated venom.
For her, if he is
A hair cut off,
An unwanted one,
The hair leaves
Its life and its pain too.
She is no more
To him, nor any more.
Separation is a thrill
If the love persists.
21.09.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Two poems about separation, different themes
The separation
I put the money in a bucket,
lowered it down to him
taking care that the notes
didn't fly off.
He made a grab for the pail,
clutched it greedily
as he'd once held me
and walked away, grinning.
A bucket load of money
was all he'd ever wanted,
and now, at last,
he was sated.
Separation came as a friend
and though I'm left poorer
I feel as rich as a King
and better for it.
The Separation
I can't put into words,
can't express,
the anxiety,
sadness,
worry
it caused me.
I can't tell you how I cried,
how my stomach hurt,
how I stressed
and fretted
and then ___
I saw you.
You'd lost weight,
you were a shadow,
of your former self,
your eyes were sunken in
you were grief stricken and
you reached for my hand.
We walked, together,
through the emptiness
and somehow
the separation,
the loneliness
had been a transition
mending the rift between us.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Sanctification is not to be understood here as a separation from ordinary use or consecration to some special use, although this meaning is often present in Scripture, sometimes referring to outward and sometimes to inward or effectual separation.
quote by William Ames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Hath The Courage?
Who hath courage? Not the hero
Leading in the strife,
To receive a nation's plaudits,
For his waste of life.
Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He alone who dares
Act up to his own convictions,
And the right declares.
Who hath courage? Not the tyrant
Boasting of his skill,
To enslave and bind his fellow
At his simple will.
Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He that doth proclaim,
Unto all their right to freedom,
Every man the same.
Who hath courage? Not the sober,
Or untempted one,
Who hath never had his stomach
Eaten out by rum.
Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He who though he may
Have been using poison freely,
Throws the cup away.
Who hath courage? Not the daring,
Reckless pugilist,
Who for wager smites a brother,
With uplifted fist.
Who, then, is it that hath courage?
He that won't resent
Every little insult given
With a base intent.
poem by Benjamin Cutler Clark
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The separation of church and state is a source of strength, but the conscience of our nation does not call for separation between men of state and faith in the Supreme Being.
quote by Lyndon B. Johnson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death is not more certainly a separation of our souls from our bodies than the Christian life is a separation of our souls from worldly tempers, vain indulgences, and unnecessary cares.
quote by William Law
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Family
Inseperable,
Since what seemed like birth,
They had the tightest bond,
On the face of the earth,
Time twisted and turned
Their relationship,
Water became thicker than blood,
Family separated
No longer speaking
Now teaching
The next generation-
Brothers, sisters, and cousins
To embrace the familial separation.
Now older and wiser
We strive to change the patterns
We ourselves have made
Change the paths we've made
Family-blood in, blood out,
From the cradle to the grave.
poem by Denice Robinson
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Separation
Miles and miles
Of separation
Separate -
You and me.
Separation
Seems to be
An endless
Journey…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I don't believe there is a separation of church and state. I think the Constitution is very clear. The only separation is that there will not be a government church.
Laundry Day
You gotta keep em separated
You like the latest fashions
Youd like to keep em clean
You take a trip every week to the laundromat
Throw a load in the washing machine
But if you dont wanna ruin your clothes
You gotta sort em out first as everyone knows
Remember bright colors and the others dont mix
Before you washem up, washem up, washem up, washem up
Hey
Are your undies turning pink
Take em out (you gotta keepem separated)
Hey, are your cottons gonna shrink
Sort em out (you gotta keepem separated)
Hey, then when its time
You can stick em in the dryer
You can hang em on a line
Hey, its laundry day
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing is as dangerous in architecture as dealing with separated problems. If we split life into separated problems we split the possibilities to make good building art.
quote by Alvar Aalto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe in the separation of church and state, absolutely. But I don't believe in the separation of public life from our values, our basic values, and for many of us, our religious values.
quote by Jim Wallis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Through The Years
Through the years, I have thought of you quite often:
Your absence was ne'er a lacking that time could soften.
I had always hoped that our friendship would last forever-
With a prayer to God, I wished we would always be together.
Nothing could have prepared me for that fateful day-
What it shall mean, only our patient wait will say-
A wait for a time when you and I are both ready-
When our inspired hearts may be made to be steady,
To receive one another-wholly and completely,
When we learn to love one another unabashedly and repletely!
Through the years, I have found naught, with which to draw compare
To the beauty inherent in the depths of your soul-inspiring stare;
You need not be here, nor do I need be, there-
I may not make part with thee, nor would I dare;
Though the years without thee had numbered more than twenty,
Thoughts about thee had been beauteous, varied and plenty.
Through the years, our lives have been quite disparate-
Perhaps it was each of our hearts' way to prepare it
For the glorious resplendence that is our consort's refrain;
I could ne'er aspire to heights this lofty, nor would I deign.
Our parting was my sweetest sorrow, our re-acquaintance, its recompense:
Mine own soul hath gathered inspiration ever since!
Through the years, mine mind hath thusly wandered
To thoughts of the beauty you are, and the years that we squandered
In search of the ardor only we could, to each other, provide-
Though this too, was not left for us, to decide,
But rather parcel to His Grandiose Plan;
It was He alone that decided this separation's span.
Through the years, our disparate lives have yet been connected,
By a Power far greater than we know-He corrected
What was indeed our failure-that to our separation, we ceded;
Perhap we were just not prime, and knew not, what we needed;
It is no matter any longer, the solution hath been provided
Through the render of our ardor, our fate hath been decided:
What hath been yet revealed, is but to the whole, a pittance-
Our lives entire, offered to each as this burden's quittance!
Through the years, the Truth shall be revealed:
A beautiful amative comes to fruition, hitherto concealed!
A fanciful futurity depends upon but our own free will-
What it shall be, is to be decided still.
The power to mold same is in three most capable hands-
Fashioned by what you and I, as well as God Almighty, commands!
-Maurice Harris,26 March 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Rama
The Day That Kausalya Does Not See His Face
She is restless and sad so her heart does race
Every person speaking she thinks it is her son
She calls out His Name Rama Rama dear son!
She goes about her work her mind is on Rama
What a fate have I to be separated from Rama
Let no Mother suffer this and part with her son
What a sacrifice this is to have God as my son!
I am a Mother like any other who raised her son
I wished for Him the very best like a human son
Did not wish even for a human son to leave me
How can I bear this separation of Rama and me?
He is the best in the world for me and for you
Taking His Name they will have salvation true
I don't need anything in this world ever to gain
Rama dearest please show me your face again!
poem by Ashoka Harichandan
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The Separated Women
THE Separated Women
Go lying through the land,
For they have plenty dresses,
And money, too, in hand;
They married brutes and drunkards
And blackguards “frightful low”,
But why are they so eager
For all the world to know?
The shamed and ill-used woman
Who really longs to die,
She slaves at home in silence
And hides her poor black eye!
She lives a life of terror
Eased off at times in woe—
But why is she so frightened
That any one might know?
The Separated Woman
She rushes to the court,
Sad, shabby and pathetic,
Or flaunting or distraught;
The real wronged wife would rather
Lose both eyes and her hair—
She swears a lie to save him
When he is taken there.
The Separated Woman
She mostly goes the same,
Bag-woman, sham-nurse, “pretty”,
Or on her husband’s name;
The real loafed-on woman,
With courage almost grim,
“Goes out” and takes in washing
To keep the kids—and him.
The Separated Woman—
I knew her course so well:
“The Stage”, then first-class barmaid,
Then third-class bar—and hell:
And “hell” means all things vicious
That prey upon the town
(She wishes her poor husband
Had sometimes knocked her down).
Masseur and manicurist,
Or anything by chance,
They vilify their husbands—
And draw the maintenance.
Sham artists, “music teachers”—
Oh! they are flinty nuts!
Their friends are man-shaped crawlers
And lower than the dust.
The separated “Monsters”
Are missing from the tale—
They seem to have cleared out—or,
Perhaps they are in gaol.
The separated husband
Is heard of here and there,
A mild and decent citizen
And mostly bowed with care.
The Separated Women,
When upset in the track,
Are often very eager
To take the “Monster” back.
They’ve moved all hell to crush him
And, startled, find too late
The Monster’s grown content with
The separated state.
poem by Henry Lawson
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