The Last page
great you have sworn the sky with memories
to witness the grandeur of the past pages
surfing the present, and win the prize of torn
and the Laurel of success that have gracefully
bloom in the garden of the future
the fire has known the direction of every
breathe, as the flame eats every wood to dust
burn each gases to ease the wet, and keep
down darkness to light, the journey comes
no more when the eyes is close to rest in the
ground
the waiting is over, the flesh crumble
to take that earthly rest …
poem by Antonio Liao
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Related quotes
Dust
When the white flame in us is gone,
And we that lost the world's delight
Stiffen in darkness, left alone
To crumble in our separate night;
When your swift hair is quiet in death,
And through the lips corruption thrust
Has stilled the labour of my breath-
When we are dust, when we are dust!-
Not dead, not undesirous yet,
Still sentient, still unsatisfied,
We'll ride the air, and shine, and flit,
Around the places where we died,
And dance as dust before the sun,
And light of foot, and unconfined,
Hurry from road to road, and run
About the errands of the wind.
And every mote, on earth or air,
Will speed and gleam, down later days,
And like a secret pilgrim fare
By eager and invisible ways,
Nor ever rest, nor ever lie,
Till, beyond thinking, out of view,
One mote of all the dust that's I
Shall meet one atom that was you.
Then in some garden hushed from wind,
Warm in a sunset's afterglow,
The lovers in the flowers will find
A sweet and strange unquiet grow
Upon the peace; and, past desiring,
So high a beauty in the air,
And such a light, and such a quiring,
And such a radiant ecstasy there,
They'll know not if it's fire, or dew,
Or out of earth, or in the height,
Singing, or flame, or scent, or hue,
Or two that pass, in light, to light,
Out of the garden, higher, higher. . . .
But in that instant they shall learn
The shattering ecstasy of our fire,
And the weak passionless hearts will burn
And faint in that amazing glow,
Until the darkness close above;
And they will know-poor fools, they'll know!-
One moment, what it is to love.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1910)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet: My Poesy’s Spark
The spark of yours did light the wood in me,
That was so dry and fired so quickly;
Destined to be, consumed like this may be;
I thank you Uncle, most wholeheartedly.
The fire stirred my heart and mind and soul;
What blaze! How high! And continues to burn;
The flames leap like fire of England's coal;
The rest of time, I'm gentle like a fern.
The spark came timely; dry was much the clime;
My wood did burn so fast but noiselessly;
Each leaping flame carried with it a rhyme;
I burn still more but burn so steadily.
I thank the Lord for giving me this spark;
With it, I'll build a modern Noah's Ark.
poem by John Celes
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Putting the past behind
would anyone believed that all have gone
into the limbo of the past, where the flame of fire
lives in the light of memories
what a trust that shakes the wound that
never failed, a realistic of the present of
the past struggle to the blindness of everything
of pain and suffering have gone
tie me into the day where i could hide my
emotional depression hold me where every
stings of fang sweeten my thirst, push my
being of every sweat flows from my half
naked body, where you can feel the sweetness
of my tears of blood
what a wonderful genre, where every past,
healed in your shadowing day, what then is the
prize where i say to myself that you come to
capture my pain; of nowhere i can stand my own
stay as you could for this is not the twilight zone of
what is the future to live, have the dawn brings
it’s light for in every future there is always the spark
a remembrance of may
need not only your love that heals the would, rather
fix it up with the solemnity of your life breaking touch
that within you is the answer of this happing mode
of freedom to live
the past have lend us to believe and thwarting us the
fulfillment that we almost reach what the present joy
of living with you forever
please live the past for everything........my Love
poem by Antonio Liao
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Between Two Fires
Wisdom reveals the reason why
This life brings so much pain
Yet in the rainbows in the sky
The answers all too plain
When God made man He gave him laws
As all the world now knows
But disobedience opened doors
No sinful man can close
Some fear no God nor judgement day
Some seek the truth on high
But fire to both will come one day
For all are bound to die
Fire will totally burn the earth
This world will cease to be
Yet Fire will lead to second birth
Who soon God’s face will see
Fire will seek each soul in turn
Regardless of their views
But which our flesh one day will burn
Is left for us to choose
From all the earth there’s no one free
However much we doubt
The fire will come for all to see
From which there’s no way out
No force can make God’s Fire retreat
No flesh can dowse the flame
But fire for those at Jesus’ feet
Will only burn their shame
The rest who die still with their crime
Will meet an awesome fate
Then like the flood in Noah’s time
The cry will be “Too late”
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Inward Burning Fire
It's a dark path now - I don't know where it leads.
I only know you're not on it.
Insufficient light comes from the flame in my heart.
The fire you started.
This flame rages seeking fuel to burn and survive.
Give me some coal dust from your hair.
Just some green driftwood shavings from your eyes.
Your oaken wood hands warming mine - they're so cold now.
Better yet, an answering warmth
from the fire burning in your heart for mine.
Nothing serves to heal a dying flame as that meeting would.
But that's my fire seeking what will not be found on this path.
So, the flame turns inward to die out.
I hide the smoke.
It was always enough for you alone to know of this kindling within.
In the flame's death it must be secret still.
The fire consumes internally,
seeking out each memory hidden away.
Consuming every thought I ever had of you.
No one knows the fire's rage
until it turns to them and touches.
It will burn on inward
until it has devoured every memory, every feeling
with sustenance left in it.
It's a painful death,
but once the fire exists
it can only consume until it dies.
I know this science. I accept.
I accepted long ago.
The fire is so warm when first kindled.
Soon, I hope and fear,
only ash will be left.
The pain will be over.
I know I'll be cold but I'll rest.
As for now, while it's still burning,
I will make one vow.
I will save one tiny ember.
I will try to keep it warm and safe.
Just in case the path turns - and there you are.
And if a spark still remains within you too
this dear and dreaded fire can rise again.
Though more likely I know -
my little ember will serve only to remind me what warmth was
and burn my fingers.
poem by Meli Secret
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Shinning Newbies
gloss in the past assemble in the
present of time, waiting to submit
in the clock of the present
in every return the beginning
of the dark breathless hold the
to light of the fire
a close of every dawn, sleeping
becomes the risen chance to change
where many have wish to buy, but
few have taken alive
glamor holds every hand to close,
yet only the weaken have survive even
the lasting gold turns to dust
the hands that empty clip had peep to
see the toe, for nothing left if the
eyes is close
tell what Canmore is and settle
down the emptiness of Greed
poem by Antonio Liao
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Past paved way for the future
Past paved way
For the present
Shall become past
To pave way for future
The cycle never stops
Present always
Compared to past
A better future
Wished by all
What will come?
Nobody knows
Hope and desire
Never ends
Brings light in eyes
And smile on face
Light or darkness?
Is a question
Answer to which
Nobody knows
One thing is certain
If one lives
Shall become old
Perish with time
Become memory
Of the past
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Where Are You Now
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: I watch the door but no one comes through
I watch the sun painting pictures of you
Nothing I do can kill the chill inside
Siliver days, wishes come true
Simple thoughts, enough love for two
Sharing a dream, sharing the warmth we had
Wheres the flame that kept us in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame, did you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Do you know that Ive be waiting
Ive been waiting when the sun goes down
A: all the roads, you taking alot
Stretch of sea a thousands times
But none of them roads bring you to my door
Wheres the flame that kept us in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame, could you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Should I hope that you are waiting
Where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Are you alone
Can you see that Ive been waiting
Ive been waiting while the sun goes down
R: if you listen
You will hear
Close your eyes
Let light is near
A: yeah....
A: wheres the flame that kept you in motion
Did it burn out as well
Wheres the flame could you take it with you
A: where are you now
Do you think of us
Do you think that it was worth it
Where are you now
Will I ever know
Its somewhere I can find you
Somewhere the sun always shines
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's a fire burning in my eyes
Even the impossible can be done
because i believe it can
the toughest challenge can be won
because i am a fighting man
...there's a fire burning in my eyes,
because i'm after the prize.
Anything far-fetched can be achieved
yes, it can be done
because in truth i believe
that i am the right one
but thats no surprize,
cause' there's a fire burning in my eyes.
Anything unlikely can be overcome
in an hour of darkness
even though there exists some
who think the situation is hopeless
but my spirit never dies,
because there's a fire burning in my eyes.
My heart is ablaze
with the flame of triumph
my soul alight
with this fire of success
an eternal inferno
rages wthin me
and when you peer into my eyes
then you will see
the fire burninig within.
...The fire burning within my eyes.
poem by Allen Steble
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Egg cell in the Egg yoke
peace is what the heart wish, wanted to dream and unlash
the trembling dream to unify the daring struggle as the world
offer the newness of time; amidst the uncertainty of each
moment
stand beneath the golden ball of sun passing my eyelids of
fear, the glittering flame engulf my deep sleep in the middle
of the night, my dear love one soundly nap in my lap; listening
my sweet hymn of a wonderful goodbye; with a flashing of
lightning speed up my face i close
say i stop flashing my ball, stay my side, where I stare my
angry heart, wait i go and lay, never return with empty handed
of blood, catch the rolling fire in my hand its dry, as tear fall to
the ground and the grave leave no mercy, the darkness has come
without me, i am the total surrender of the flesh I love seeing
death in the soil you return
a game without a same, as you play, everybody gain the
glooming world to flame; the wonderful great light exploded in
the amazing world of misery as the end stop to begin and each
one never be the same, for today becomes the past to pray
open your heart again, listen the heart that sing in harmony
with a child that whisper the winning voice of great super power
of pain; remember that; like a wind the dust follows each
direction of no where to go, leaving the shadow of you in the
memory of the ray that always stay in the blooming flower of
a beautiful garden of creation
be a man of today, follow the wisdom of the heart and lead
the future of a wonderful sky to fly............
' stop, look and listen, nuclear super distribution is not the
answer of an angry world to live, open be a man of God,
lead the world of harmony of love '
poem by Antonio Liao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lifes a Journey
As I sit and look back at my life and the things I did, whether they were good or bad...I am here...
The past is my life long journey of truely finding my self.
My present is my life journey to correct my past mistakes and improve my present.
My Future is what I make of my present.
So I choose wisely because I only have one past, present and future.....
poem by Yahaira Perez
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Light Fades Out
Light fades out...
The day is over.
My ancestors saw this,
Rolling of day and night,
To get into the black hole
Of past, not to return ever.
Time eats time and pushes
Time into tunnel...
You may tell of hope,
The desire to live,
For the next day..
But, when time melts,
The cells of this
Decaying flesh
Deny to survive..
An irresistible
Longing to live, to
Breathe the air of this
Wonderful earth doesn't
Work, the last day comes
To throw us in history,
Of a common man....
He was like this, or
That...with the passing
Of time those words too,
Fade out, the present, past
And future all become
One, same for us all...
poem by Nilakshi Das
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An Expectant Mother
(Who knows about the importance of the present time more than an expectant mother does?)
She's not just expecting a baby,
But the future with no more of hers.
She's not just giving birth to a baby,
But the future, Wow! full of wonders.
She eats not just for herself,
Nor for her pleasant pleasure;
She sleeps not just for her health,
Nor for her physical power;
She lives not just for her future,
Nor for her present hours;
But for all the best she could give to the world,
She eats, sleeps and lives with great care;
'Cause she knows with all her heart
The present is pregnant with the future!
poem by KnowledgeSincerityWisdom KSW
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spontaneous Electricity (The Wetness)
walking through the wetness,
rain falling softly.
the rhythm of the wipers,
the trees bow to the wind.
you and i, the sweat and the tears,
one hollow, the other echoes,
one fire, the other darkness kneeling,
identities merged, then torn apart...
ghostlike faces at the window,
children turn, and walk away.
the long silence deepens,
death waits just beyond and before.
mountains carved in forever skies,
crumble, ground to dust by time.
and no less we, dust to dust,
the great sweeper sweeps away our memory.
love was the answer, and sometimes not.
the cross and the thorns, the stolen moment.
now there's nothing left to talk about,
and nothing more to do or feel...
walking through the wetness,
i called the rain by your name!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Changing
You look up at the sky
as you seem to notice
how she keeps changing
changing a different color
but no-one wants the blame
you will just leave it like this
she's only our earth, our mother
You keep on with progress
while she's slowly dieing
still you just don't give a damn
as you watch her crying
don't you think it's time
you need to give it a rest
you've done created such a mess
You close your eyes
so you won't have to believe
you just don't want to see
she don't mean a thing to me
I hear so many people say
look deep inside you
you're so damn naive
Nothing is left but ashes
in a dieing flame
we done let her burn
watched the whole place crumble
with your greed and corruption
still you never learn
Now is the time you need to realize
you need to change the damage done
before everything is gone
with your destruction
or just kiss it all good-bye
there won't be a new day
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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Dimension Merge
For us the past has gone and the present moves on
into the yesterday of a future’s present time.
Despite living in the future’s past this will not last,
present and future will very soon combine.
Future or dimension, to some a misapprehension,
but they are one in the same.
If there’s more than one, they will follow on
to leave one, with it’s present name.
On merging we’ll realise we’ve no future to recognise,
and the past and present is all we’ll know.
The past will still be renewed, with each day used,
but the future will mean only tomorrow.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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Past-Present-Future
They spend no time together
Yet they're relatively linked
These three birds of a feather
Who march through time in sync
Present is right now
Past is just before it
Future rightly vows
Nothing will detour it
The past flies by too fast
It's movement so incessant
And with a final gasp
Bestows on us the present
The past is understood
When at present we look back
Most memories are good
But some do sadly lack
For the time that's yet to be
The future, as it's known
Let's prepare it present-ly
With good memories all it's own
poem by Stanley Cooper
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By The Light Of A Burning Bridge
Oh, I've been stumblin' through the darkness,
Tryin' to feel the ground beneath my feet.
Afraid of movin' much in any direction:
Stuck where the past and the future meet.
But I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it too.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
An' there were things I saw that I'm not proud of.
Things that I'd do diff'rent now from then.
But when I really make myself get honest,
It's over and I can't go back again.
'Cause I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it took.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
Instrumental break.
It sure is hard to let go and to leave the past behind,
But there ain't no other way that you can find some peace of mind.
When I fin'lly got my first good look:
A little fire was all it took.
An' as the flames grew brighter,
I saw everything that I'd missed.
Once you get your courage up,
You light a match an' your eyes adjust:
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
It's amazing what a man can see,
By the light of a burnin' bridge.
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Book's Monologue Part 4 Bookkeeping
Regular written books or a regular written novel
Could sell
But each copy would essentially be the same
And the words stagnant, unable to change, in a sense lame
Because they cannot move or rearrange
They just never change
But I guess even though I'm an open book that's where we differ
My words do change, and my past is rewritten
When my memories become hazy or hidden
Suddenly I've changed my past, said something different to her
Or him, or supposedly done an action that never did occur.
When witnesses balk and there is no vindication
Nor affirmation
It's hard to keep my memories truthfully
Call me a liar for changing them, but that's me
Bookkeeping is near impossible
Because rewriting my beginnings is possible
It's hard to remember what's fact or fiction
When this novel is just a fantastical rendition
Of what I think my life is or thought my life was
Not what it really is or really was
I think it's because
Those unhappy memories of the past ought
Just to be forgot
So I choose (o so subconsciously) to rewrite them
Only to find they've made my destiny
They've made me- me
It's funny that I write of bookkeeping
And changing the beginning of the book
When I feel so strongly
That such things are impossible for me
So in a sense this poem is a contradiction
But then maybe my changes are just my perception
Of my story because I cannot look back
So I guess I'm wrong... future and past are stained in black
Because as a book I could change what I think
Maybe even float not sink
But that's just my perception, because my story
Is actually
The Immutable tragedy
The tragedy of me
And past... present... future
They won't endure
One day pages will crumble to dust
But I think... I'll go first... Actually I think.... I think...
I must.
poem by David Knox
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