The Bearer of False Smile
The Bearer of False Smile
By: Adam M. Snow
Ye humble thyself upon thy altar,
Calling upon thy bearer of false smile;
Lest be known thy truth are lies,
Yet oneself ye defile.
But one day ye would lose thyself,
And thyself would lose thy heart;
And by the month of twelfth be told,
The wake which lies apart.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Alicia Nuncamas
As I walked by myself,
And talked by myself.
Myself said unto me:
Look to thyself,
Take care of thyself,
For nobody cares for thee.
I answered myself,
And said to myself.
In the selfsame repartee:
Look to thyself,
Or not look to thyself,
The self same thing will be!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When I lose Myself
When thus I lose myself in Thee, my God,
Then do I see, and know,
That all Thy universe reveals Thy beauty,
All living beings, and all lifeless things,
Exist through Thee.
This whole vast world is but the form
In which Thous showest us Thyself,
Is but the voice
In which Thyself Thou speakest unto us.
What need of words?
Come, Master, come,
And fill me wholly with Thyself.
poem by Sant Tukaram
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(Reflection Poem) A Look At Thyself
To trust first one must trust thyself.
To love one first must love thyself.
To hate one must first hate thyself.
To lie one must first lie to thyself.
To cheat one must first cheat thyself.
For an outward expression reflects inwards.
No matter how we try to hide who we are it is seen through our actions towards others.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The River
I
As drones a bee with sultry hum
When all the world with heat lies dumb,
Thou dronest through the drowsèd lea,
To lose thyself and find the sea.
As fares the soul that threads the gloom
Toward an unseen goal of doom,
Thou farest forth all witlessly,
To lose thyself and find the sea.
II
My soul is such a stream as thou,
Lapsing along it heeds not how;
In one thing only unlike thee,-
Losing itself, it finds no sea.
Albeit I know a day shall come
When its dull waters will be dumb;
And then this river-soul of Me,
Losing itself, shall find the sea.
poem by William Watson
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Rhythm Of Life
Welcoming world, with the birth thyself thee get;
With a genial-sweet happiness thee made.
A pestilence revelation objective thou you hates;
That is the Rhythm of the Life thyself you gets.
Understand the monstrous schooled meaning,
Thyself expected from the ordiance having.
Work hard with the worth you arrayed;
Try the picture of the future thy made.
Arrange your surrounding with a vista tags,
Buy thy Age with the degree thee has.
Make sure life give us only a chance;
To make history as long as you can.
Don't obsure about the thrill of death,
It's the ultimate truth of the life thyself you get...
poem by Kumarjeet Basu
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To be Bathe in Life's Alter
To be Bathe in Life's Alter
By: Adam M. Snow
Wake me not for I am not at rest,
Nor any Death-but lest.
Not I whom ye should fear,
But thyself drawing near;
Not only you, but myself as well,
And I but my lore to tell-
Of my ever dreaming song,
Weakens those who are strong.
I am who bathe in life's alter,
Cleansing flow of holy water.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Compare not thyself with those that have less than thyself, but look on those that have far exceeded thee.
quote by William Gurnall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise.
quote by Edward Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXXXVI: Lost Days
The lost days of my life until to-day,
What were they, could I see them on the street
Lie as they fell? Would they be ears of wheat
Sown once for food but trodden into clay?
Or golden coins squandered and still to pay?
Or drops of blood dabbling the guilty feet?
Or such spilt water as in dreams must cheat
The undying throats of Hell, athirst alway?
I do not see them here; but after death
God knows I know the faces I shall see,
Each one a murdered self, with low last breath.
“I am thyself,—what hast thou done to me?”
“And I—and I—thyself,” (lo! each one saith,)
“And thou thyself to all eternity!”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Solstice Night
Solstice Night
By: Adam M. Snow
Once upon a solstice night,
As she broad a distance sight.
Leaving behind her spoken voice
As she waits the world by choice.
One scarlet night abroad the tower,
She lies to wait a night devour.
As truth be told she lies awake,
Dreaming of her knightly sake.
Burden be her heart dost sing,
'O to thee what morrow brings? '
She lies there by the window pane,
Silent forevermore and forever insane.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Love Thyself Last
Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty
To those who walk beside thee down life’s road;
Make glad their days by little acts of beauty,
And help them bear the burden of earth’s load.
Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger,
Who staggers ‘neath his sin and his despair;
Go lend a hand, and lead him out of danger,
To heights where he may see the world is fair.
Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee
Are filled with Spirit Forces, strong and pure.
And fervently, these faithful friends shall love thee:
Keep thou thy watch o’er others, and endure.
Love thyself last; and oh, such joy shall thrill thee,
As never yet to selfish souls was given.
Whate’er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee,
And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven.
Love thyself last, and thou shall grow in spirit
To see, to hear, to know, and understand.
The message of the stars, lo, thou shall hear it,
And all God’s joys shall be at thy command.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Soto! Explore thyself!
832
Soto! Explore thyself!
Therein thyself shalt find
The "Undiscovered Continent"—
No Settler had the Mind.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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"Know thyself," said the old philosopher, "improve thyself," saith the new. Our great object in time is not to waste our passions and gifts on the things external that we must leave behind, but that we cultivate within us all that we can carry into the eternal progress beyond.
quote by Edward Bulwer-Lytton
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Be able to be alone. Lose not the advantage of solitude, and the society of thyself.
quote by Thomas Browne
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Thou Art Not False, But Thou Art Fickle
Thou art not false, but thou art fickle,
To those thyself so fondly sought;
The tears that thou hast forced to trickle
Are doubly bitter from that thought:
'Tis this which breaks the heart thou grievest
Too well thou lov'st - too soon thou leavest.
The wholly false the heart despises,
And spurns deceiver and deceit;
But she who not a thought disguises,
Whose love is as sincere as sweet,
When she can change who loved so truly,
It feels what mine has felt so newly.
To dream of joy and wake to sorrow
Is doom'd to all who love or live;
And if, when conscious on the morrow,
We scarce our fancy can forgive,
That cheated us in slumber only,
To leave the waking soul more lonely,
What must they feel whom no false vision,
But truest, tenderest passion warm'd?
Sincere, but swift in sad transition;
As if a dream alone had charm'd?
Ah! sure such grief is fancy's scheming,
And all thy change can be but dreaming!
from 'The Princess
'Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The fire-fly wakens: wake thou with me.
Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,
And all thy heart lies open unto me.
Now lies the silent meteor on, and leaves
A shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
And slips into the bosom of the lake:
So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
Into my bosom and be lost in me.'
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Sonnet 138: When my love swears that she is made of truth
When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnèd in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O, love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love, loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Telling Lies
You tell your lies unto your daughters
You told those lies unto their fathers
You tell them lies, in such a disguise
So later in years them you could deny.
You tell your lies unto your friends
You told those lies to all your men
You make up an excuse, just to confuse
So no one knows what you put them through.
You tell your lies unto your teacher
You told your lies unto your preacher
You then shed a tear, so with pity they'd hear
And also when no one else is ever near.
You tell your lies to any caller
You told your lies unto your lawyer
You say any word, though may be absurd
Even though from someone else you heard.
You tell your lies in your prayer
You told those lies to the choir
But you still will be blamed, for all the pain
As sadly you and your lying will remain.
You will tell your lies each and everyday
You will tell those lies when you get old and gray
Sadly you will tell them till, your heart beats still
But then hearing those lies no one else ever will.
You will tell your lies when you meet GOD
You will tell those lies with a pitiful nod
You will beg him again, that you did no sin
But GOD will know where you have been.
You will tell your lies when you meet the Devil
You will tell those lies as as you are at the same level
But at you he will grin, as he knows all your sin
As with you all those times he too has been.
Your daughters will sin and tell their lies
As to anyone that will listen they will also cry
As you taught them not the truth, but only how to use
So also their destiny from lies they did choose.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Unhousel'd, Unanointed, Unanel'd
When these men must go alone
Sans an absolution,
When their sins are heavy as lead,
Thou Thyself will lift the head ;
Thou, High Priest, wilt whisper low,
Te Absolvo! ere they go.
When there is no sacrifice,
Bread and Wine for Thy disguise,
Come Thou in the Spirit then;
As at Agincourt our men
With desire a blade of grass
Served as Eucharist and Mass.
Lay Thyself the oil on lips,
Limbs and eyes, before the eclipse--
As once Magdalen did to Thee--
And so speed them, safe and free,
To lie down with Thee a while
And to waken to Thy smile.
They shall sit down at the Feast
Where Thou are Sacrament and Priest.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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