Late Ripeness
Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year,
I felt a door opening in me and I entered
the clarity of early morning.
One after another my former lives were departing,
like ships, together with their sorrow.
And the countries, cities, gardens, the bays of seas
assigned to my brush came closer,
ready now to be described better than they were before.
I was not separated from people,
grief and pity joined us.
We forget - I kept saying - that we are all children of the King.
For where we come from there is no division
into Yes and No, into is, was, and will be.
We were miserable, we used no more than a hundredth part
of the gift we received for our long journey.
Moments from yesterday and from centuries ago -
a sword blow, the painting of eyelashes before a mirror
of polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel
staving its hull against a reef - they dwell in us,
waiting for a fulfillment.
I knew, always, that I would be a worker in the vineyard,
as are all men and women living at the same time,
whether they are aware of it or not.
poem by Czeslaw Milosz
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Related quotes
Mirror, Mirror, Please Forgive Me.
It's late at night, I'm alone again, every night's the same
And I know the reason why; I've just myself to blame
Stagger to the bathroom, to wash and get ready for bed
Drunk again, I'll never learn, how i'm going to sort out my head
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, please don't cast your seven-year curse
lt seems each time I look at you, I appear a little bit worse
I brush my teeth and I nod support, across to my red-eyed will
Again we pledge, the time has come, self-promises to fulfil
Uttered oft, but seldom loud, only us as witness
These resolutions I set myself, to test my moral fitness
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, please don't cast your seven-year curse
lt seems each time I look at you, I appear a little bit worse
I can't go on, the way I do, it's got to come to an end
Or maybe I'm already to far gone, With no more hope of amend
Should I submit, declare defeat, admit that my self-esteem is roten
For I know, with all guilt ignored, in the morning, all of this will be forgotten
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, please don't cast your seven-year curse
lt seems each time I look at you, I appear a little bit worse
poem by Benjamin Hickmott
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Missed Right Here
That letter I wrote to you last year?
The one that said I wish you'd disappear?
You are missed right here and it aches my heart...
I wish I could take back what I started
To part us to see you departing!
If I knew I could say how miserable I am,
You would understand that.
And I would open!
If I knew that from first words spoken!
That letter I wrote to you last year?
Did not make clear my love for you.
Or was it too clear and that is why you split?
Just because I said, 'Kiss my ass and I'm out of it! '
Was not meant for you to go!
That's why I say you don't know me at all.
That's why we reach these crossroads,
And becomed stalled!
How can we overcome torment and raging fits...
If you leave me all alone twitching in a fit!
I thought you loved me?
You would always be with me,
When I went ballistic! And I've missed it!
That letter I wrote to you last year?
The one that said I wish you'd disappear?
You are missed right here and it aches my heart...
I wish I could take back what I started
To part us...
I did that to see you departing!
If I knew I could say how miserable I am,
To you
As I hold back tears ready to drip
From my eyes.
And from my eyes I could see that yours are open.
You would understand that.
But I fear to hear first words spoken...
That may leave me choked up and heartbroken.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Come On In
Come on in,
You sure look good to me.
Come on in,
Ive learned how lonely I can be.
I guess well never know just what went wrong
You know its been a whole year has passed us by and gone.
But were back together now where we belong
So, baby, come on in.
Come on in,
I heard your footstep on the stair.
Come on in,
Id know it anywhere.
Your old chair in the corner is justa sitting there waiting.
Its been a long time anticipating.
What a long time its been.
So, baby, come on in.
Over and over Ive told myself
I said, son, youve got to lose these blues.
Get ready for the day when shell walk in the door.
So I dusted off your housecoat and I polished up your shoes.
Come on in,
You know your welcome here.
Aw, come on in,
Its been a long, long year.
Now I know why I waited around
I wouldnt run around town, let them put me down.
I knew that if I waited I would win.
So, baby, come on in.
Come on in,
Come on in,
Aw, come in.
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Habits And The Development.
Early birds wake up early to get the juiciest fruits,
Modern Men fail to sleep by working three shifts,
Countries where men are awake with bustling cities,
Where their forefathers were smart and intelligent,
To forecast the future of their children of children,
Without the corruption of corrupted vision.
Our forefathers were the reason for our failures,
Of having inefficient population and the leaders,
Who have failed to wake up early morning,
To look at the rising sun that glowing,
In the countries, where the roads are vacant,
Where railway and bus stations are empty,
Where people are still in bed at six and after,
There, people live in poverty and despair.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The nearer people approach old age the closer they return to a semblance of childhood, until the time comes for them to depart this life, again like children, neither tired of living nor aware of death.
quote by Desiderius Erasmus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life And Time
if life is a book, then time is pen--writing pages of life journey;
if life is a piece of white paper, then time is color--painting more colorful life journey;
if life is a long river, then time is surging waves--pushing forward of life journey;
if life is a tree, then time is pieces of green leaves--enriching life journey;
if life is a door, then time is just the key--opening new start of life journey;
if life is a cup of coffee, then time is a bag of condiments--flavoring into life journey;
if life is a scene of tv play, then time is nameless leading role in it--performing its own speical and unique life journey;
if life is a oil painting, then time is its palette--rendering life journey;
if life is a fast horse, then time is its running greenland--carrying load of life journey;
if life is a greenland, then time is spring rain--moisturing nutrition of life journey
...........
this is ur own life, a life which only belong to ur own, ur sepcial and unique one.......
poem by Flying Heart
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Early Christmas Morning
Listen to the children sing
Watch them dancing all around the Christmas tree
Waiting for the opening
Early Christmas morning
All around the world is sleeping
Little children there's no peeping
Wait and see what Santa's bringing
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
Icicles and breakfast cakes
Friends and family we will celebrate
Sounds that joy and laughter make
Early Christmas morning
All around and far off places
Angels waken smiling faces
Wrapping us with love and graces
Early Christmas morning
Early Christmas morning
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Merry Christmas... Have A Nice Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Indian Summer
After weeks of waiting, our summer is finally here.
For our late Indian summer, we all give a big cheer.
It’s early October and it’s a humid twenty five degrees;
Following days of dullness, it’s hot, with very little breeze.
Alive with people, are those sandy beaches, normally deserted;
There are children, women in bikinis, and with men, unshirted.
Unusually, for this time of year, much flesh is on display,
And the ice cream seller is still doing a really roaring trade.
By weathermen, this sunny spell was recently forecast,
But their expert word was doubted, due to times past.
This time, however, it seems they’ve got it right,
And it is, indeed, extremely hot, sunny and bright.
Office workers sat on benches, eating lunch, are now seen;
Normally, at this time of year, they’d be sat in the canteen.
People converge on the nation’s many public parks,
And stay until 7pm, when the days begin to get dark.
With everything around us, bathed in sunlight,
Our once saddened souls, suddenly take flight.
We didn’t believe we’d see any more days like this,
And, rainy, dull days, we certainly don’t, at all, miss.
But, late at night, when we are lying in our beds,
We toss and turn and struggle to catch some zeds.
Woken way too early by the brightly sunlit mornings,
We rub our eyes and can’t keep ourselves from yawning.
People sit in their gardens, catching the sun’s rays,
On what could be one of this year’s last sunny days.
But, about the hot weather, we shouldn’t really complain,
As, this year, we may not see another sunny day again.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Graduation Day (July 29,2007)
A day to part
Away from scholarly books
And mind boggling journals
Running words and trawling letters
Leaving behind the assignments
And examinations.
Graduation day
A fulfillment of recognition
Granted to measure the tough journey
Traveled in months and years
Browsing pages of papers
Now, insignificantly lie somewhere.
The sleepless nights
The restless moments
All have vanished with the crown
Received on this day.
A lot of happy smiles
And tears exchanged
During these periods,
But all joined together
To commemorate the hardship endured
To beat many through the journey
And come out the best among many.
The fear of losing the battle
And the agony of anticipation
Are all but flimsy tattles
Of this illusive mind
But never mind
There are no exams to mind, anymore,
at least for sometime.
Be ready to climb one more ladder
Make it your priceless ambition.
I wish you all the best, buddy
(Dedicated to my friend Mary Das from JB, Malaysia)
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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Let the Spring Winds Blow
Who divided the rivers and mountains
Forty-five years ago, hearts were torn, blood flowed
Standing and waiting, turning to stone looking at my homeland
The cries of anguish are no longer heard No fertile land for the trees to grow, no water to float the ships
No flight in the sky, where did it go
Known long ago, Korea was the rising sun of the East
Everywhere, tall trees, clear waters, blue skies To roam everywhere, to greet everyone
But that was yesterday
Spring comes to other countries, where everyone can travel
But winter snow blocks the path to my homeland Following year to year, people and seasons come and go
I am waiting, why are the spring winds not blowing
Winter is long and cold but spring must come
The seeds are waiting to bloom Spring has arrived, let us join hands
Let us plant trees on the mountains
Let us sail our ships on the rivers
Let us fly far into the sky
poem by Michael I. Byun
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Love's Eternity Vow
Love's Eternity Vow
On this fateful January,
Cupid's Arrow shot at me,
I didn't know what happened you see,
'cause all i saw was you and me.
And so I started a long journey,
finding a route to you desperately,
locked door and windows are all I see,
where on earth can I find the key?
Sinbad traveled through the seven seas,
never gave up nor did he flee,
although I am on my knees,
still you are ignoring me.
You'll forever be my cup of tea,
hoping that you'll be with me,
decades, centuries, let it be,
I'll be waiting for eternity.
-MaxCrux and Dark
Grey Lady Of The Sea
(lebon)
Youve whispered out loud
But your breeze doesnt bend
Were lying in the palm of your hand
No land we see, no place to be
The salt of your tears, adds stain to our hearts
Theres no long years can tear us apart
Our futures entwined with your past
Because when we lie awake
Well be thinking of you
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Bravado is all but gone
And patience is down
You scared us and youve turned us around
But you wont let us drown
Because when we lie asleep
Well be dreaming of you
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
So answer us when we call
And say if you think were old
When life is so short we can stay long
But youll never be alone
Because one day well return
Well be waiting for you
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
Blow, grey lady blow your ships back home
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Absence
I speak to you over cities
I speak to you over plains
My mouth is against your ear
The two sides of the walls face
my voice which acknowledges you.
I speak to you of eternity.
O cities memories of cities
cities draped with our desires
cities early and late
cities strong cities intimate
stripped of all their makers
their thinkers their phantoms
Landscape ruled by emerald
live living ever-living
the wheat of the sky on our earth
nourishes my voice I dream and cry
I laugh and dream between the flames
between the clusters of sunlight
And over my body your body extends
the layer of its clear mirror.
poem by Paul Eluard
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Rush Hour Blues
He gets up early about seven oclock,
The alarm goes off and then the house starts to rock.
In and out of the bathroom by seven-o-three,
By seven-ten hes downstairs drinking his tea.
So put a shine on your shoes,
Put on your pin-striped suit.
Cant lose those early-morning-cant-stop-yawning,
Push and shoving rush hour blues.
Wife:
Darling are you ready?
Youll be late for the bus!
Star:
Dont rush me baby
While Im using my brush.
Wife:
Get a move on darling
Youre cutting it fine.
Star:
Cool it baby
Ive got plenty of time.
So put a shine on your shoes
Put on your pin-striped suit.
Cant lose those early-morning-cant-stop-yawning
Push and shoving rush hour blues.
Soon Ill be just one of the commuters
Waiting for the subway train.
Ill be rushing up the stairs
And in the elevator.
By the time that I get there
Im gonna feel like a mole in the ground
Ill be caught in the crush
Ill be pushed and be shoved,
And Ill be trying to get the subway train.
Ill be fighting with my brief case
And my umbrella,
Every morning and every night.
Some people do it every day of their lives.
Wife:
Read the paper later
Youll be caught in the queues.
Star:
Dont rush me baby
While Im reading the news.
Wife:
Darling get a move on
Youre cutting it fine.
Star:
Cool it baby
Ive got plenty of time.
A quick cup of coffee and a slice of
Toast and the star (or should we say,
Norman? ) is off to do battle with the
Rush hour queues and traffic jams.
In the rush hour queues
No one gives a damn.
No one knows where Im going to
No one knows who I am.
Im sitting in my office
In the metropolis
Im just part of the scenery,
Im just part of the machinery.
Chained to my desk on the 22nd floor,
I cant break out through the automatic door,
Id jump out the window but I cant face the drop
Im sitting in a cage with an eye on the clock.
Im ready to start paying my dues,
Ive got to lose those early-morning-cant-stop-yawning,
Push and shoving, rush hour blues.
Well Im ready to start paying my dues,
Ive got to lose those early-morning cant-stop-yawning,
Push and shoving rush hour blues.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back In The Days Of My Youthful Glow
Both sympathy and empathy I understand,
With clarity.
There has been no part of my life...
Was there an option that I live,
If...
For just a few days or week.
Nor did I get the opportunity...
Just to live for the weekends to party.
Or...
Never did I run away,
From a task or deed to leave.
And I do understand,
There are millions living today...
In a sorrow that may seem to them,
Carried on backs weighted down by grief.
However...
Being a product of an environment,
I knew few that were pampered...
It becomes difficult for me,
To echange my experiences...
To walk in someone else's shoes.
Most of the time,
I had holes in the soles of mine.
And I was taught at an early age,
To keep my shoes shine...
Bathe.
Wear clean underwear.
And be thankful for what I had.
Even if that meant...
To be glad if I had nothing!
And...
Back in the days of my youthful glow,
Anyone would think I was ordained...
The 'king' of Bellevue Square.
A tenement project where poor Black folks lived,
To later become great people!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One World We've Been Given
Oh no I just can't sit,
Without noticing it...
That division isn't hiding,
To disguise from eyes.
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
So many seem committed to being misfits.
As we all forget...
Our lives here are limited.
So many seem committed to begin conflicts.
As we all forget...
No one lives without a gift.
As we all forget...
Destroying it no one exists.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
Oh no I just can't sit,
Without noticing it...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
And that division isn't hiding,
To disguise from eyes.
But just one world we've been given.
And on it we sit.
So many seem committed to being misfits.
As we all forget...
Our lives here are limited.
So many seem committed to begin conflicts.
As we all forget...
No one lives without a gift.
As we all forget...
Destroying it no one exists.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.
One world!
We've been given.
One world!
We all live on one world.
One world!
One world!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Remember Not To Forget Me
You have been through a lot
You still have a long way to go
Discrimination will always be in your way
You will face new trials everyday
So many people you will meet
Just remember not to forget me
You have a lot to live for
But not a lot to come back for
I’ll always be here waiting
Waiting for the love of my life
For my happiness to return to me
Please remember not to forget me
You gave me what I never had before
Hope, a reason, the will to keep being
I lived for the moment, you taught me to slow down
You taught me to think about it, to savor it
And then to plan for tomorrow
So when tomorrow comes, remember not to forget me
When you’re with me, the rest of the world fades
Everything melts away and it’s just you and me, face to face
I don’t know how you feel, but I know you are part of me
You are my other half, I need you to breathe
You are the light to my dark, the night to my day
As the sun rises and sets, remember not to forget me
You remind me that I don’t need their reality
I just need you with me, away where we can be
Every kiss you give me takes my tears away
With each passing day we get closer
Closer to the day when you will take me away
Just come back, remember not to forget me
I tried to quit you, to prove i didn’t need you
I failed, I couldn’t forget you, the memories found me
Everything near me has residue of you
Close my eyes, I see you, as if you were here
You know what, I couldn’t be happier
Carry the memories with you, remember not to forget me
Every morning that I wake, I’ll think of you
And you will be on my mind all through the day
When it’s late, I’ll be thinking of you, as I lie there alone and awake
As I dream it is you I will see
I can only hope you will be thinking of me
My darling, my love, please remember not to forget me
poem by Guarded Heart
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Art Will Show To Eternity Your Soul
I am a woman, using a mirror everyday,
Like all of you, i'm seeing my reflection into it,
Even i am sad, happy, tired or bored,
What i'm seeing in my mirror it's my physical reality, my own truth.
I combed my hair and looked into my mirror,
I felt so delicate, unique and simple,
Having a smile on my face today,
My mirror will smile me back as feedback in same way.
I am a painter, i adore art,
In everything i'm painting it's life,
In each painting and spot of paint my brush does,
It's a history of great ideas my minds holds.
A painting is a gate to our inner side,
Through it vibrates the universe to our hearts,
A mirror will always show your face reflection to the world,
But art will show to eternity your soul.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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Ballade Of Blind Love
Who have loved and ceased to love, forget
That ever they loved in their lives, they say;
Only remember the fever and fret,
And the pain of Love, that was all his pay;
All the delight of him passes away
From hearts that hoped, and from lips that met -
Too late did I love you, my love, and yet
I shall never forget till my dying day.
Too late were we 'ware of the secret net
That meshes the feet in the flowers that stray;
There were we taken and snared, Lisette,
In the dungeon of La Fausse Amistie;
Help was there none in the wide world's fray,
Joy was there none in the gift and the debt;
Too late we knew it, too long regret -
I shall never forget till my dying day!
We must live our lives, though the sun be set,
Must meet in the masque where parts we play,
Must cross in the maze of Life's minuet;
Our yea is yea, and our nay is nay:
But while snows of winter or flowers of May
Are the sad year's shroud or coronet,
In the season of rose or of violet,
I shall never forget till my dying day!
ENVOY.
Queen, when the clay is my coverlet,
When I am dead, and when you are grey,
Vow, where the grass of the grave is wet,
'I shall never forget till my dying day!'
poem by Andrew Lang
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Seeing What Others Cannot
Its been over three weeks now
that I’ve been in this state.
I don’t know the reason why
there’s nothing to it I can relate.
The day began like any other
until I got to the bus pick up place.
There was three other people waiting,
but I never bothered to look at a face.
As I waited, an uneasy feeling of anxiety
moved up from my feet to my head,
I noticed something strange and abnormal,
the man in front of me separated.
I couldn’t believe what my eyes were saying
and thought that I was becoming ill,
maybe I was stressed out, with work and all,
and it was time for a get-well pill.
But it was true I was actually seeing this,
the man’s inner-self stepped out.
It communicated with another of its kind
who just happened to be walking about.
Nervously, I again looked around me,
this was happening everywhere.
It was if the people’s spiritual selves
had a life of their own to share.
It was happening to little children,
to couples, husbands, and wives.
Their once unseen spiritual sides were
living completely different lives.
I can’t understand or explain this,
that’s why I’ve come here today.
You’ll probably think that I’m crazy,
and I ought to be locked away.
I can tell you that I don’t like this,
and I wish that I couldn’t see
all these separated inner-selves,
who can see, but ignore me.
I have tried to ask them questions,
but they just smile and walk away.
It’s as if they too don’t understand
and they’ve always lived this way.
Is it because the majority of people
can’t see, that a precedent is set.
What if I can actually see what I can see
and the majority isn’t ready to see just yet?
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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