Buried in The Past
Being
Buried in the past
And
Being devoured
By the sand grains of time
Is
Preferable to
Being
On the surface of the present
Breathelessly suffocating and
Painfully suffering
With the
Realities of today
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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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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Hourglass Sand
Through the hourglass
watching
grains of sand falling.
I see time slipping by.
To myself I wonder.
Do we pass with such ease
through the hourglass of life?
Like tiny grains of sand cascading?
When that sand has gone.
Does that mean time has stopped
until I turn the glass over?
And the sand again begins to fall.
Through our hourglass
as we pass like grains of sand.
How many frowns can we turn to smiles?
How much good can we make from bad?
When our sand has run out.
Has our time stopped as well?
Who will turn over our hourglass?
Restart our time renew our opportunities?
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Crime of Life
Life seems but a memory of years
Gone by too fast.
Before we can live the present,
The future is the past.
Tomorrow is yesterday;
An instant is today.
The present is just a pause
Along past's fleeting way.
Seconds tick, days go by
And years bow out of sight.
Time speeds on as days are born;
Then devoured by each night.
Mankind's curse is overlooked
By Old Father Time, who steals
Our precious gift
With life's most hideous crime.
This crime of life is in its passing;
The days, the years that fleet by.
Almost before a chance to live,
It seems we're given a chance to die.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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GRAINS of SAND
Grains of sand
on which I stand
burn my feet
from the sun's intense heat.
I bury them quickly
to keep them cool.
The grains of sand
can be too cruel.
And now I know
I played the fool
for I left my sandals
where it was cool.
Afraid to move,
I see a child.
I call to him
as if I'm wild.
'My shoes, my shoes
please bring them here.'
He looks and waves,
then disappears.
And so I stay
and face the day
stuck in grains of sand.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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today as a present from God to me
today
is God's present to me
a cue
from Habib
a present too
he accepts
from God today
we open the present
today
and we see the sun
and a garden
of flowers
and the wind
and the
sea and the mountain
inside it
we marvel
and then the clock strikes
the bio-rhythm
of hunger in our guts
it is breakfast time
and there is
still nothing
to eat on the table
today is just a present
and we still
have a lot of work to do
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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New dawn.
The glory of old legends
Lies buried in the past
The roadside remains unseen
Where dark shadows stay cast.
As the icy winds of fate
Howl sharp throughout the land
Memories are blown away
Like golden grains of sand.
But the farmer carefully
Sows seeds in the new dawn
For the light of tomorrow
Is where new hope is born.
poem by J.A McManus
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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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Present
Bury the Past
Forget the Future
Think about the Present
Be alert and cautious in the present
Do not regret about the past
Or worry about the future
Past is gone
Future is unknown
Present is what you have today
So utilise it to the fullest extent
Its your life's biggest asset
That will fetch you great dividends
Realize that this is a gift given to you by God
That's why it is called as "PRESENT"
poem by Kavita Iyer
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Past, Present, Future
i lived in the past for so long
that the present was always unknown.
now i always look ahead at all the possibilities
and there is so much, that i now see.
a shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel
and my thoughts being poured through a funnel.
the past is the past, and that's where it will stay
and in the present, we have to find a better way.
for the present will soon be our past
and if we don't do something, it will not last.
we must always look to the future
for it is only twenty four hours away
then it will be our past
and we have so much to do and say.
when i look at life, i truely have to laugh
today is our future and tomorrow it'll be our past.
now that i have you confused as to what i am
trying to say.
i guess i will try' to put it a better way'.
we all tend to procrastinate
always leaving it for tomorrow.
but! what if you don't see tomorrow.
and today you did'nt accomplish that task
how will you be remembered
if the present you left for last.
when we leave this material world
and our souls soar up in the sky
we will still have our memories
and that we can rely.
for when we get up there(if we do)
your soul will have carried all that you did
in this life
and the memories of friends, family
husband, or wife.
now when you look down on all that you had did
and asking yourself the question.
did i use my time, the way it was
meant to be?
or did i procrastinate, that others now speak of me?
we all have to work in order to survive.
but we must stop on occasion to smell the flowers.
and to enjoy all that we was given
otherwise how can you call this living.
(my thoughts: the words and stories were given to me.
so that i could write them down, for al the world to see.)
this is my philosophy.
poem by Louis Rams
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Time and Experience
I found the past in my present
I built the future on my past
I found the gift of today
When I thought about what
The future has to offer
Where is the wisdom in experience
If there is no folly in wisdom
What's the real meaning of death
If our spirits live forever
Times never change
But circumstances do
I'll let mystery play with the future
Surprises couple with the present
And experience mourn the past
Because sun always rises from the east
And each day always comes to an end
Experience is not chained to wisdom
Nor is folly tied to bad results
But to the circumstances that burden
Our past, present and future because
Time is always anxious for the future
Experience loves the present
And wisdom never divorces the past
poem by Benaiah Sondashi
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Time
Time is a nonspacial continuum
In which events occur in obvious
Irreversible sequencing union:
Past, present and future, continuous.
What does all this mean to us in our lives?
Well, we have many memories don’t we?
Shared with our loved ones and our relatives.
Past experiences that once were new
Are now old, recyclable memories.
Those timely abstract musings cling to
Everyone: today's contemporaries.
The entire past is what we are anew.
The present is shaped by this time “before”
And hinged on what the future holds in store.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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My Father Buried My Sister........Today
My father buried my sister today
My soul burns red with pain
No longer will I touch her face
Or caress her skin again
My father buried my sister today
God, what have I done wrong
To have her stolen from my arms
When my faith in you was strong
My father buried my sister today
Thank God I have another
I couldn't walk this path alone
Every breath is a struggle
My father buried my sister today
She was just 20
Searing, ripping, tearing ache
My emotions overcome me
To God above, how I pray
These words by her not repeated
My father buried my daughter today
poem by Pritisha Sardesai
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Time
Who knows about the future? Who knows what we'll find?
What good and bad things are in store by chance or design?
What can be done today to alter the future's course?
If truth be known you alone rule effects of its force.
Today at work or play only the present exists.
A wise world has no room for a past-present-future tryst.
Each future hour, joyful or dour, will never arrive.
The future will be the future as long as you're alive
The past is gone forever never to steal today's times,
Unless could-have-been memories commit awful crimes.
So love and live each instant of each and every day.
You have so little time as each moment passes away.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Suffocating(Recised In Line Form)
A sympathetic morbidity.
Ruthless pity.
Always in the vicinity.
The crows circle my head, letting me know if I try to help I might die.
Some say its pure suicide.
It's a hard knock life in which you must keep the sharks at bay.
Their just waiting for you to fall in.
Can you keep your balance walking down thinly braided rope?
How long can you hold your breath before you start to choke?
Cant' you see I can't breath?
I'm suffocating, so let me go.
Didn't you hear me?
I said let me go because,
I'm suffocating. SUFFOCATING, SUFFOCATING.
The practicality of pity.
Like lovers I need it.
And it needs me.
God damn she so pretty.
But shes so sick always falling victim to the next itch.
Turns out she was (as the defined word of a female dog) ! @#$%.
And I just got to get away.
Again I'm suffocating.
Because of a pact i cant retract.
Sworn to a twisted secrecy.
Blasphemy of myself to a infinity.
Pull the skin over my face.
Hide the disgrace.
Always smiling, when i should be one of misery and suffering.
No destain for anyone in this heart.
Even when its all falling apart.
I brush off the battle scars like their nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Last night I had a dream
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a future
a future that i had buried
deep within
A dream that made me wonder
how deep is that burial place
within me
Last night i had a dream
a dream about a past
a past that my memory
refuses to name.
Dug up by another name from
that very past
Last night i had a dream
a dream about the present
a present that i choose to
live in oblivion off.
a present with hurt, betrayal
pain and sadness
A present that however hard
i run away from shackles
me to my past and my future
chains, which i am unable to
break free from
which tie me down and make me who and what i am
Last night i had a dream
do i wish to wake up and
face reality.
are not the dream and the reality
one and the same.
Last night i had a dream
a dream or was i awake
finally.
poem by Jasveen Ahluwalia
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A Time Machine Mind!
Human mind, dreams, vision and imagination
Can transport one forward and backward in time.
Mind is the time machine to go to past and future
But time never goes backward but only forward;
Also, time never goes in circle but only straight!
Recollection of past is possible in the present;
Visualization of future is possible in the present;
But one cannot go to the past or future ever now!
Hour glass can show the time like clock of today
But it cannot bring back the past to reality now
Or bring to our vision the future of world now!
Mind is the time machine that can read history;
Mind is the same machine to see the future too;
But time never goes to the past but only to future!
poem by Ramesh T A
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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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Today is Present
today is present, though you don't mind
the minute, the night, the occasion are
all fine, it is not but a wisdom of time that
you wait to come
like a dropp of tear's frozen in the wisdom
of time, where a birth of a child whisper in the
solitude of memories to be remembered that
you are present today
one has to believe that, today is called the present
time, a gift to be taken and be shared for all,
for it losses its precious meaning, if it ends in it
self; life is to live with others so that other may live
live it today, show the abundance of richness in you
for richness can't buy happiness, today is the day
that you can count all the things that money can't
buy........and today everything will be fine......
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Hourglass
The Hourglass
By: Adam M. Snow
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
For time will soon cease and end in fear;
for they would come and disappear.
The hourglass falls at the end;
for there will be no one left to befriend.
When the last sand falls;
the writings will be shown on the walls.
The hourglass shown thy pain;
for the light will soon rain.
The hourglass drops grains of sand;
with thy one I take in hand.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Reincarnation
Somewhere
I think of you
Somewhere
I remember you
You are with me like the wind
From a faraway land and I know it is you
The way you kiss me still makes me quiver
Wind-lips touching my cheeks my neck
Wind hands caressing my arms my hands my chest
Wind-body hushing pressing against my body today
There is a sense of longing about two
Past bodies,
Two past warm bodies pressing to
Past warmth and past time somewhere
Only that it is too hard to remember the details
Of that past love, past the season, only that it is hard
To remember why that love died untimely
Now we are here, I am in this present body of a writer
For some reason you read me in your present body of a reader
You are telling me that something in my poem catches
The eye of your soul and you begin to remember
This is him, this is him, he was there with me before
Your way of telling me without seeing me is a feeling too
We were there before we were together we just can’t remember the details.
Today you are the thought that touches me like the wind-mind
So gently, a thought comes to my brain, a feminine thought claiming
A right that was there before, and which today vehemently denies.
The present seals it with birth.
Locked.
Another death is needed to open it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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