Nature gets credit which should in truth be reserved for ourselves: the rose for its scent, the nightingale for its song; and the sun for its radiance. The poets are entirely mistaken. They should address their lyrics to themselves and should turn them into odes of self congratulation on the excellence of the human mind.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
A Little Wish of Mine
a little wish of mine
Congratulation! May you achieve a new vision!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you cross the line of success!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you get a new purpose in life!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you receive new people!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you fill up your ambitions!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you swim across the ocean of tears!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you get what you deserve for!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you be the pole-star for the wandering people!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you knit new relations with the thread of love!
At this happy b'day
Congratulation! May you get the true fruit of your true task!
At this happy b'day
And now
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU
P.K. Verma
poem by Dr. P. K. Verma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Melodious song
Thy melody and my lyrics
will make a song
a melodious song
the song of enthusiasm
the song of peace
the song of fraternity
If my lyrics is a flower
thy melody is thee fragrance
If my lyrics is a ray
thy melody is thee light
If my lyrics is cloud
thy melody is thee lightning
my lyrics is a cascade
thy melody is thee sound
my lyrics and thee melody
is the consistency of profound nature
having multi seasons
to nourish all creature
to embellish the earth
whispering the gale
to blow like spring
my lyrics is nectar
thee melody is sweetness
my lyrics and thee melody
will make a song of heaven.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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Not For Attar
How hard is your heart
To squeeze the Rose
That smiles amidst thorns all around
And call its essence a scent
Wear the flower on your hair
Present the rose to your beloved as Valentine gift
Have mercy on this gentle and sweet flower
Don't smear its blood as scent
And Ladies and Gentlemen, for your kind information
Rose is not made for Attar
Rose is not just a flower
Rose is QUEEN of all flowers
Appreciate her fragrance and elegance
Do not squeeze for essence
And always adore Her Excellence with reverence
poem by Kavin Charalan
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Vox populi
Congratulation, Arvind kejriwal.
I congratulate you on behalf of all
Honest and sincere committed people
Who dare to oen their mouth and
To speak the truth openly and flatly.
Life is nothing when truth is there
Before us and to speak the truth
Is the birth right of all that
We are not enjoying so far
You are truly our star.
Truth is eternal not our life
Motherland is sacred with the mass
Not the parliament where the murderers
Looters rapers assembled by
Hook or crook by money and muscles.
Congratulations, Arvind congratulation.
Anna Team is as such made an ideal
And the real words of the masses
It is the Vox-populi of the
Common human race.
Let us again congratulate.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Good Poets and Bad Poets
Some poets get awards and think they are good poets.
Some poets never get awards and think they are bad poets.
Some poets think they are good poets only in their own mind
Some poets think they are bad poets in somebody's else mind.
Some poets think they are good poets in somebody else mind.
Some poets think others think they are good poets but they don't in their hearts.
Some poets think they are good poets in their hearts but not in anyone else's mind.
All are insecure, except those who get security from the opinions of others and that, alas, doesn't last and isn't real.
Some poets have left the entire scene and live only in their mind.
Some poets take criticism and don't mind.
Some poets avoid criticism and do mind.
Some poets write poetry to get love.
Some poets love to write poetry.
Some poets are ahead of their time, in their mind
Some poets spend a lifetime feeling like failures in their mind
Some poets live only after they die.
Some poets have much to say but can't articulate
Some poets retreat, believing others don't understand
So which one of these am I?
I guess I am all of these and none of these
and no matter what my description
I intend to keep doing what I do:
Write. Right
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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In the Spirit of Rumi-40-The Nightingale and the Rose
As cold winter turns to warming Spring,
two lovers return from their winter rest.
The first rose shyly blooms; .
the nightingale pours out its song.
These are the two most generous lovers in the world;
do they not deserve each other?
In the daytime, while the nightingale takes its rest,
renews its generous throat,
the rose opens to embrace the world with beauty;
In the nighttime, while the rose folds and rests in sleep,
waiting to drink that purest dew of dawn,
the nightingale tells the world of beauty;
So each speaks in turn; both speak of beauty;
one in sound, the other in silence.
This way, telling of their love to the sleeping other;
Do they prefer it thus? Or is their listening
as sensitive as a mother’s nighttime intuition,
hearing more clearly, inwardly, in rest?
Which is the Lover, which is the Beloved?
Does the nightingale return in spring
at the first perfume of the rose,
drifting from the hedge and garden
like the messages of Layla and Majnun?
Or does the rose wait impatiently to bloom in Spring
until it hears – its petals trembling as they listen –
the nightingale’s song from that liquid throat?
Which is the Lover, which is the Beloved?
Does it matter to the world?
It matters only if that love is not equal; full;
generous beyond all worldly measure;
and then the Lover has become the Beloved,
the Beloved has become the Lover..
You and I, on our prayer-mat each day,
seeking God within ourselves,
which is the Lover, which the Beloved?
Have we yet become each other,
equal, full, and generous beyond all worldly measure;
night and day, as nightingale and rose?
As nightingales and roses sing forever
of each other's love
eternally, the round world turning, turning..
l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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From Sengtzan (died 606 AD/CE) , the Third Patriarch of Zen
How may we walk all free and undisturbed
through life, as if there were no other way?
So that our human nature finds no break
between our nature, and all nature's play?
The answer lies in thought: for if our mind
holds any thought that some restriction makes
on truth itself, then Truth is thus constrained
in every part; can never show itself.
For hence comes false requirement, then to judge
between all these embordered things in mind -
Which wearies angered mind, like some old grudge;
No freedom then, nor peace, nor truth, to find.
So curb that game divisive mind will play
with anything at all; that is the Way.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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From The Break The Nightingale
From the brake the Nightingale
Sings exulting to the Rose;
Though he sees her waxing pale
In her passionate repose,
While she triumphs waxing frail,
Fading even while she glows;
Though he knows
How it goes -
Knows of last year's Nightingale
Dead with last year's Rose.
Wise the enamoured Nightingale,
Wise the well-beloved Rose!
Love and life shall still prevail,
Nor the silence at the close
Break the magic of the tale
In the telling, though it shows -
Who but knows
How it goes! -
Life a last year's Nightingale,
Love a last year's Rose.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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(V – 2010) The Poet’s Nature
Reflecting Nature’s various hues
Poets write colourfully.
Echoing Nature’s innate songs
Poets write musically.
Learning from Nature’s righteous laws
Poets write more sensibly.
Drawing from Nature’s spotless love
Poets write more humanely.
Living with Nature’s poetic life
Poets write living poetry.
Kindness to Insects
I saw a Melancholy Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp,
Who wept, 'The Poets do me Wrong,
Excluding me from Noble Song-
Though Pure am I and Wholly Crimeless-
Because, they say, my Name is Rhymeless!
Oh, had I but been born a Bee,
With Heaps of Words to Rhyme with me,
I should not want for Panegyrics
In Sonnets, Epics, Odes and Lyrics!
Will no one free me from the Curse
That bars my Race from Lofty Verse?'
'My Friend, that Little Thing I'll care for
At once,' said I- and that is wherefore
So tenderly I set that Wasp
Upon a Purple Clover Knosp.
poem by Arthur Guiterman
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A Concept Of Nature And Man!
Nature is a living scientific art God enjoys best;
Nature’s artistic evolution is God’s grand creation
Of algae, plants, fish, reptiles, birds, beasts, man and divine!
Nature is for evolution but man is for revolution to excel it;
Nature evolves his heart, mind and soul to scientists and poets;
What scientists see in parts poets see as a whole to know truth!
Energy of Nature can neither be created nor destroyed everywhere
As the activating Spirit God gravitationally balances matter and energy
By being present in all pervadingly invisible, invincible and in infinity!
Naturally evolved man has mentally grown to be a superman to develop
Spiritually himself to be a divine to reach God in communion with Nature!
poem by Ramesh T A
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No Poem In Here
this is a blank space reserved for an obituary of a dead poem
prose claims a space though in another glossy page.
plese turn to the next page
those non-poets like me please transfer to another room
this place is for dead poems for those who killed living poems this page this space is reserved for all of them.
we non-poets are moving out to another empty page
about to be added, if you can wait, mr. poet...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Father's Tale
I had a recent re-encounter with 'The Nightingale'.
Coleridge considered calling it 'A Father's Tale'.
It was one of those still, dark, quiet, balmy nights.
Three thoughtful friends sat on a mossy bridge near Nether Stowy,
Somerset.
A nightingale began to sing.
Sam thought of melancholy,
Of sorrow not suited to this song,
Of poets diluted by books and balls,
Of Nature's eternality,
Of how a poem should add to all of Nature's loveliness,
And be loved, like Nature itself is loved.
He crafted such a poem.
With delicious notes
He describes wild grove
And delicious music of birds.
He fancies nightly votive tribute by a lady
(Actually living hard by as gentle maid) .
Out of this perfection
Arose a promising insight:
'I'll expose my son to birdsong,
Make him a lover of the night.
He should not then
Have dreams like dad's
That wake him up in fright.'
(Coleridge had horrible nightmares from which he had to be woken and
comforted.)
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Our Wonder Of Her Only Does Seem To Grow
The artists and poets by the beauty of Nature inspired to sketch and to write
Their drawings for others to look at and their poems for others to read and recite
And in Nature there is always great beauty to see
In paddock and parkland and on every bush and tree
Once you get to know them you cannot get them wrong
Each species of bird of Nature by their chirp or their song
And though so little of Nature's ways we do seem to know
Our wonder of her only does seem to grow
And in her there is so much to love and admire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
In time brief enough the longest human life span
And Nature will outlive the last woman and man
Since all of her life forms are born to die
That's a fact of Nature and facts never lie.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Turn Around
I was working all night in my office
When a man I had recently killed
Called me up from a phone near my building
So I looked out the window at him
He had the same obsequious manner
That was the reason I had him killed
So to calm my nerves I sang this song
To him, over the phone
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
I was out by myself in the graveyard
I was doing an interpretive dance
When I felt something heavy and pointed
Strike me in the back of the neck
And then the ghost of my dance instructor
Pushed me down into an open grave
And as dirt rained down she played a xylophone
And sang me this song
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
We were waving our arms out the window
Of a fast moving passenger train
Acting in an irresponsible fashion
Until the engineer whose back had been turned
And who we thought would find us highly amusing
Quickly swiveled his head around
And his face which was a paper-white mask of evil
Sang us this song
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The city of Chandigarh is planned to human scale. It puts us in touch with the infinite cosmos and nature. It provides us with places and buildings for all human activities by which the citizens can live a full and harmonious life. Here the radiance of nature and heart are within our reach.
quote by Le Corbusier
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It stands to the everlasting credit of science that by acting on the human mind it has overcome man's insecurity before himself and before nature.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hearts That Love Nature
Hearts that love nature
will be eternaly young,
eternal and immortal
like the nature itself,
which never dies to this
loving, beating heart,
nature that is alive
in the air that we breathe,
in the crowning glory of
the sun rising from
amidst the depths of the horizon;
Nature that is immortal,
the songs of the nightingale
and the cuckoo and the songbird,
will ring out in harmony
for infinite years,
the melody will keep playing
even when dust is created
and destroyed to dust,
hearts that feel nature
will become nature and live on,
amidst the vast sky
of splendour and elegance,
within the deepest corners
of the infinite oceans,
along on the breeze
that blows across this land;
Hearts that love nature
will be eternally young and immortal,
will strive in peace and silence,
the calmness and tranquility,
of merging with mother nature,
born again with
the leaves of new birth,
those fresh blossoms of spring,
whose scent is divine perfume
to this awakening earth,
and our hearts will be one,
playing gently on those meadows
surrounded by diasies that
once intrigued great poets of the past,
and we remain young and
immortal, forever...
poem by Amatulla Mohammadi
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The Wonders Of Nature
The wonders of Nature around us every day
The billions of multicoloured wildflowers that bloom in their own natural way
The hum of the nectar gathering honey bees
And the scent of pollen blown out from the blossoming trees.
The pleasant sounds of Nature to us ever near
The songs of the wild birds so pleasing for to hear
And as much as the trees and the flowers and as much as bird song
We are part of Nature and to her we belong.
The beauty of Nature is for all to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
The beauty of our Earth Mother is for all to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire.
The poets are inspired by her and in their poems they sing
Of her Seasons the Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring
And in the work of the artist on the gallery wall
The beauty captured on canvas of a waterfall.
The wonders of Nature are around us everywhere
White butterflies dancing in the balmy air
And in Nature everything lives in a natural way
And for to view her beauty we do not have to pay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Rose Intoxication!
Queen of flowers rose is always a fascination!
Rose is symbol of passionate love cheers mood!
Rose lady gives great pride to be with anywhere!
Special respect to rose never changes anywhere;
Red rose, pink rose and even blue rose are there
Occupying a pride of place none can have ever!
Bouquet of rose flowers elates anyone to dizziness!
A special gift indeed rose flowers makes to all!
A single rose is enough to make one grand to look
Instead of a big cluster of flowers of jasmine or lily!
Scent of rose remains fresh in mind wherever one is;
Such a unique flower rose how can anyone ignore
Whether it is in the garden or lies on a wayward side!
Now after seeing rose and read on rose I am intoxicated..!
poem by Ramesh T A
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