Now
Now.
Sit down.
Let go.
Tomorrow’s now will be no more than this
- another was.
Nothing is enough
to distract
your present thought.
And your present thought
is only movement between two points,
a wave that leaves the water behind,
plotted by an electrical mind.
So take your nothing.
Now.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Emergency Exit
I must be present now
before I can have a past;
I must be present now
to create a future then.
If I still my present mind
and exchange present thoughts
for nothing at all,
I have escaped past and future
and achieved a timeless peace
with no yesterday, no tomorrow.
I am
before
Abraham was.
poem by Brian Taylor
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Sonnet and Sonata
May sonnet ever match sonata form?
whose opening movement catches restless mind;
whose new and ever-fresh harmonious sound
puts spark in eye and ear, and feet on ground;
then, slower movement, drawing us to still peace,
takes mind within to where all movements cease;
murmuring all that inner nature knows,
restoring to our self its true repose.
Then! final movement, dancing out new joy
in life within to outward present joined,
send us out Creation's messengers
to sing that song our heart in truth enjoys.
Coda, last, or couplet: solemn sum
of all before; that's present; may become.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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Future will be my better present
(1)
Yesterday was surely tomorrow one day
Definitely today will be yesterday tomorrow
One day hopefully tomorrow will be today
(2)
This sorrow and pain will be killed
and pushed into the past tomorrow
this defeat and despair will be vanished
into the future to bring better present
(3)
The past surely was the future of me one day
Definitely the present will be past tomorrow
One day hopefully the future will be my present
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Secret of Time and its Passage
Memory defeats passage of time
Hurts and pains enliven passed times and events
In the form of aches, and rarely are enlivened pleasant experiences had;
Anxiety, fear, apprehension constitute the future;
Past and future are thought forms
In the present continuous,
Arising out of earlier experiences,
And doubts and imaginations about the imminent,
Are mere mental projections
In the present;
The present continuously changes
Every one tenth of a second
As a pulse series of awareness
Replacing past dissolving into future;
Events took place and the ones we imagine may happen
Respectively create memory,
And doubts, fears and expectations;
Thus the egoistic mind drawing us into the past or future
And seldom allowing us to live in the present
And enjoy current bliss, peace and silence
Creating whirlpool of time and its passage
Never lets us transcend the notion of time
And its passage;
But the reality is,
Present continuous being
One-tenth of a second,
The past over and the future yet to dawn;
Realization of this secret of
Passage of time, past, present and future
As mere thought forms in the present,
Sets in us peace, bliss and quietude
And we face life cheerfully
Transcending mental suggestions
And enjoy the present in calmness,
Peace, bliss, silence, in unoccupied awareness
As contented and content-free state of mind
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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Let Our Love Be As It Ought (Villanelle)
Let our love be as it ought
while you are true to me,
with something special in every thought
as something valuable that we have brought
that goes much further than just charity.
Let our love be as it ought
simple, sincere as if its joy cannot be bought
as it is present with us daily
with something special in every thought
that comes by itself out of the blue unsought
as a gift from the divine without iniquity.
Let our love be as it ought
like a pool of cool water in the drought,
that more than quenches and sets the spirit free
with something special in every thought
as if we found something we have constantly sought,
in the way that by God it is set to be.
Let our love be as it ought
with something special in every thought.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Best Christmas Present
Christmas morning I wake up
and open my Christmas presents.
I got an iPod, money, shoes, and many shiny things.
However, I received the same Christmas present as I received last year.
I didn't come in a box,
it didn't come wrapped.
I didn't even come with a bow.
Thought it happens to be
the best Christmas present I could ever ask for.
The Christmas present just happens to be YOU!
Thanks for being my Christmas present for another year
poem by Lost Sierra
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Tomorrow and Tomorrow
The pulling string,
which is Time's tether,
brings
and binds
all things
together
in the contoured galleries of our minds.
Piaf has been dead
these thirty years or more
and yet her voice is bought
and sold in any CD store.
Yesterday and tomorrow,
mingled joy and sorrow,
are raw material for the present mind
to spin its webs and bind.
Only the present acts,
begins and ceases,
holds, releases.
The other tenses
only seem.
They
make a mockery of our present senses
and merely dream
the time away.
Release this present moment from its treadmill,
this trudging on from ‘was' to ‘will'.
Locate the very pinpoint
of the here
and the now.
See the very pinpoint disappear
in a gust of autumn laughter
-leaves falling through bare and empty rafters.
'Oh God, ' said Hamlet,
'I could be bounded in a nutshell
and count myself a king of infinite space,
were it not that I have bad dreams.'
If Lord Hamlet would let go his dreaming,
he would be king indeed!
poem by Brian Taylor
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God Is Moving
Years have passed
Since we affirmed.
God Is Watching.
Now in the present
We are confirming.
God Is Moving.
Looking into the future
We become concerned.
God Is Present.
In our every yesteryear
In our every today
And in our every tomorrow.
God Is Watching
God Is Moving
God Is Present.
poem by Cecelia Weir
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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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Silence Oceans
Oceans of life,
Oceans in one's life
are wonderful,
Heart is one ocean
Brain is another ocean,
mind is the third,
Trifles are fourth,
Intelligence and wit make fifth,
wisdom and knowledge sixth,
God and Love are seventh!
Soul is the land,
Raised above these oceans
And look as their shore,
Every instant a wave of thought hits the shore!
High tides of happiness,
low tides of sorrow,
High tides of success,
Low tides of failure hit the shore!
Ego is that wind blowing,
Desires and pride are changing gravity
cause wave and tide!
Sometimes disappointment,
Or hurt ego,
can create storm and tsunami!
Silence in solitude,
become grand solitude,
Takes one to that altitude,
everything is cool in love and gratitude,
Peace incarnate in multitude,
In that great solitude,
When wind stops,
and become still,
When there is no movement Of Sun and Moon,
When everything comes to still,
No waves, no tides,
ocean meets shore, all in love,
No raising or falling tides,
No roar of chasing waves,
That is that grand silence,
Silence of All oceans,
When no bird fly or sing,
When no events,
they are
Time's own parents,
And time give birth to
Three tenses,
Past and future
compress the present,
Now lose pressure,
Present expands to eternal!
All merge in present
One is present in present tense only,
Both presence and absence,
Merge in that grand existence,
That is the grand silence,
That is the solitude,
Where no one to disturb,
Nothing can disturb,
Soul is immersed in the universal soul,
Mind goes out of universe and sees the grand truth,
Truth is that truth,
no false can never reach,
No false can never touch,
Universe infinite is not even atomic,
Because mind itself has grown,
fantastic and gigantic,
No atlantic, no antarctic,
Only ocean remains,
peaceful pacific
No reason to love,
No reason to hate,
No one can touch,
No arms can harm,
Listen to that drummer,
Beats drum continuously,
AUM AUM AUM,
Now in that silence of absolute solitude,
No drum, no AUM,
No drummer,
No judge's hammer,
No eternal vibration,
As one become one's own master!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Easter Saturday
Today is the day after;
after blackness, what?
yesterday, black present filled the mind;
today, not even light on blackness..
a day not on the calendar;
an empty diary entry;
faith smaller than a mustard seed;
hope an untilled field.
This is what a present with
no future feels like;
the mercy only
that there is a present;
among the closest, the rumour
of a promise so ethereal
it has no shape or form
to build into new faith, no hope;
not even waiting, when
there may be nothing for to wait;
a day out of time; wrap around you
the thin silk of love;
be still; surrender everything
and find a peace beyond all promises;
today, there is no tomorrow;
if you have hope, then hope;
if you have prayer, then pray and pray;
perhaps tomorrow’s born today.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Look Home
Retired thoughts enjoy their own delights,
As beauty doth in self-beholding eye ;
Man's mind a mirror is of heavenly sights,
A brief wherein all marvels summed lie,
Of fairest forms and sweetest shapes the store,
Most graceful all, yet thought may grace them more.
The mind a creature is, yet can create,
To nature's patterns adding higher skill ;
Of finest works with better could the state
If force of wit had equal power of will.
Device of man in working hath no end,
What thought can think, another thought can mend.
Man's soul of endless beauty image is,
Drawn by the work of endless skill and might ;
This skillful might gave many sparks of bliss
And, to discern this bliss, a native light ;
To frame God's image as his worths required
His might, his skill, his word and will conspired.
All that he had his image should present,
All that it should present it could afford,
To that he could afford his will was bent,
His will was followed with performing word.
Let this suffice, by this conceive the rest,
He should, he could, he would, he did, the best.
poem by Robert Southwell
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When I saw Arnold say that he didn't need a union, because people in his position don't need it, I thought, this is a very naive way to present yourself. It's also kinda dumb about making movies. It doesn't realize how the union movement even helps the star.
quote by Warren Beatty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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In the thought of you
In the thought of you
~
What comfort to the night
The thought of you does bring
What warmth to the heart
When I hold you imagining
The embrace of two lovers
Fully entwined in each other
Lost in a solitary look
Where two eyes are bound
How beautiful it all does seem
To ease the mind at night
I sleep with a smile in place
While I picture your company
What more could I ask
Than to be present with you
To share in a moment of time
To find a comfort in the night
Only found in the thought of you
poem by Matthew Holloway
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An Anniversay! My Love!
that i so became hungry for your love in vague,
a primitive old day that young so near to the heart,
serving resemblance to the long lonely distance of sea love,
and proximity being a song with tears in the chick from beady eyes,
needless i see the precedence over the sad heart yet,
cynical but selfish of the time it takes for a cygnet to find love, and i did,
but how pecular that a bird has no wings, ours is splendid silence,
oh! i hear though the words very eminent in an extravagant sound,
enough to keep my hopes high, though a wonderful understatement,
the giggling mind sweeps the smile, how dour of such love?
that so became a fairytale not to tell but click the doorbell,
a sleazy thought that i employ not in my firm of love.
i am left with an oganza because there is no cloth to present,
yet i present you my heart,
yet i present you my love,
yet i present you my loyalty,
yet i sing an anniversary holding hands with you,
and by my obligation, i ought to take you to haven with me and finish more decades!
poem by Anele ''The African Son'' kaPotelwa
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Tomorrow Is Now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
You think the past is behind you
But baby whats that on your back
It looks to me like youre draggin it around
Like a heavy pack
Now we dont live in the present
Were to busy hangin on
To whats been and gone so it comes again
Singin the same old song
Singin na na-na na na
Let it go oh oh
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
What are you going to ask for
What are you going to create
Its in you hands to build your own world
Forget about fate
And I dont need to remind you
Life is short and life is sweet
And before you even know it
Past and future gonna meet
Oh, every day and every way
Good to go oh oh
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Not much to say
Its all been said, anyway
Not much to think about
Just let go of yesterday
Singin na na-na na na
Singin na na-na na na
Let it go oh oh
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
Tomorrow is... tomorrow is now
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind.
quote by Thomas Hobbes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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