The world higher than the place of GODS
A person who is proud of ‘himself'
Does not own his body and physique for ever!
A person who thinks the wealth is ‘MINE',
The wealth will not come with him
While he breaths his last breath!
"A person who cuts the pride of ‘I' and ‘MINE'
Will enter the world higher than the place of GODS"
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Don't reserve the wealth for generations
If a person happens
to acquire wealth by RIGHTFUL means,
he should be generous to take food
- generated by ploughing his land
by oxen - with many guests and relatives!
However alert,
Wealth may not stay with one person with partiality,
It will move from person to person like a cart wheel!
(naalatiyaar - aRaththuppaal - selvam nilaiyaamai 2)
Hence, don't reserve the wealth for generations,
Help and utilise for charity, feed guests and relatives!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What is—
215
What is—"Paradise"—
Who live there—
Are they "Farmers"—
Do they "hoe"—
Do they know that this is "Amherst"—
And that I—am coming—too—
Do they wear "new shoes"—in "Eden"—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won't they scold us—when we're homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—
You are sure there's such a person
As "a Father"—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls "die"—
I shan't walk the "Jasper"—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won't laugh at me—
Maybe—"Eden" a'n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You're right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Uniforms
(3/9/12)
So many uniforms worn in this life, and inside them
You'll find your loved ones -your soul mate
Son, daughter, husband, or wife.
Firemen, policemen, nurses, and military too
They all have a job to do.
And as you look at them with pride
You thank god they're by your side.
The uniform does not make the person
But the person makes the uniform.
Because in it they pour the heart and soul
And it's there where they belong.
The firemen and women who run into a burning house
The cop who goes into the line of fire
The nurse who held their hand on you to stop the bleeding
And of course the military soldier
Who protects our country day and night
And will give up their lives in a fight.
Yet we do not stop and say:
"Thank you for all that you do
I am very proud to know you."
Their uniforms are just their shells
And at times they go thru hell.
But there is a person who never wore a uniform
But created all of them who wear it.
He is all these people rolled into one
He is "GODS SON".
He made these uniforms so that we can see their worth
And it was given to them from their birth.
So many uniforms to show what we do
But it doesn't show the inner you.
This uniform is seen only by god
It is called the human heart.
This uniform can not be replaced
by anything on this earth
For it was given by god at our birth.
We can be as beautiful or as vicious
As any animal on this earth, or as
Soft and sensitive as the most delicate flower
This is given to us from the lords powers.
Let us rejoice in what he has given
And make this life " worth living".
© L.Rams
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Persons Who Lose Their Sleep
Any person who plans to steal
will lose his sleep, waiting for others to sleep;
A person who falls in love with a fiancee
will have no sleep for ever and you will see;
Any person who likes to enlarge his wealth
will have no sleep, irrespective of his health;
The persons who like to safeguard
the accumulated wealth also lose their sleep!
NaanmaNik katikai 7
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Common Sense
Normalcy is for you to judge, what is normal for one,
Is abnormal for another, as there are no measurement guides,
To the balance of judgment that, is to be your guide in,
The philosophy of your lifetime, to use your "Common Sense";
As this is the natural thought of the mind, to see or think,
According to the intelligency of each person,
To overcome any problem without negative prejudice or malice,
To live on as "Human Beings", in a "World at Peace."
poem by Jim DiGregorio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Runcorn Ferry
On the banks of the Mersey, o'er on Cheshire side,
Lies Runcorn that's best known to fame
By Transporter Bridge as takes folks over t'stream,
Or else brings them back across same.
In days afore Transporter Bridge were put up,
A ferryboat lay in the slip,
And old Ted the boatman would row folks across
At per tuppence per person per trip.
Now Runcorn lay over on one side of stream,
And Widnes on t'other side stood,
And, as nobody wanted to go either place,
Well, the trade wasn't any too good.
One evening, to Ted's superlative surprise,
Three customers came into view:
A Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom it were,
And Albert, their little son, too.
"How much for the three?" Mr Ramsbottom asked,
As his hand to his pocket did dip.
Ted said: "Same for three as it would be for one,
Per tuppence per person per trip."
"You're not charging tuppence for that little lad?"
Said Mother, her eyes flashing wild.
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"Per woman, per man, or per child".
"Fivepence for three, that's the most that I'll pay",
Said Father, "Don't waste time in talk".
"Per tuppence per person per trip", answered Ted,
"And them, as can't pay, 'as to walk!"
"We can walk, an' all", said Father. "Come Mother,
It's none so deep, weather's quite mild".
So into the water the three of them stepped:
The father, the mother, the child.
The further they paddled, the deeper it got,
But they wouldn't give in, once begun.
In the spirit that's made Lancashire what she is,
They'd sooner be drownded than done.
Very soon, the old people were up to their necks,
And the little lad clean out of sight.
Said Father: "Where's Albert?" And Mother replied:
"I've got hold of his hand, he's all right!"
Well, just at that moment, Pa got an idea
And, floundering back to old Ted, He said:
"We've walked half-way. Come, tak' us the rest
For half-price -- that's a penny a head."
But Ted wasn't standing for none of that there,
And, making an obstinate lip,
"Per tuppence per person per trip", Ted replied,
"Per trip, or per part of per trip".
"All right, then", said Father, "let me tak' the boat,
And I'll pick up the others half-way.
I'll row them across, and I'll bring the boat back,
And thruppence in t'bargain I'll pay".
T'were money for nothing. Ted answered: "Right-ho",
And Father got hold of the sculls.
With the sharp end of boat towards middle of stream,
He were there in a couple of pulls.
He got Mother out -- it were rather a job,
With the water, she weighed half a ton --
Then, pushing the oar down the side of the boat,
Started fishing around for his son.
When poor little Albert came up to the top,
His collars were soggy and limp.
And, with holding his breath at the bottom so long,
His face were as red as a shrimp.
Pa took them across, and he brought the boat back,
And he said to old Ted on the slip:
"Wilt' row me across by me'sen?" Ted said:
"Aye, at per tuppence per person per trip".
When they got t'other side, Father laughed fit to bust.
He'd got best of bargain, you see.
He'd worked it all out, and he'd got his own way,
And he'd paid nobbut fivepence for three!
poem by Marriott Edgar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Contented Man
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For have I not a mansion tall,
With trees and lawns of velvet tread,
And happy helpers at my call?
With beauty is my life abrim,
With tranquil hours and dreams apart;
You wonder that I yield to Him
That best of prayers, a grateful heart?"
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For look! though gone is all my wealth,
How sweet it is to earn one's bread
With brawny arms and brimming health.
Oh, now I know the joy of strife!
To sleep so sound, to wake so fit.
Ah yes, how glorious is life!
I thank Him for each day of it."
"How good God is to me," he said;
"Though health and wealth are gone, it's true;
Things might be worse, I might be dead,
And here I'm living, laughing too.
Serene beneath the evening sky
I wait, and every man's my friend;
God's most contented man am I . . .
He keeps me smiling to the End."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Can One Person Do
(n. rodgers/g. smith)
What can one person do
More than a little bit
More than a little bit
Can I fight the battle
All by myself
Can I make a miracle happen
As long as I can think
And got my health
Ill never stop
Im too strong for that
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
Everyones gotta move
What they can move
The faithful can sometimes move mountains
When your faith is right
You will never lose your heart, your hope
Or your good friends
Dont be overcome by frustrations
Live up to your highest expectations
Im tellin you just for your information
Just for, just for your information
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
Looked into my soul and suspected
That Im gonna take, gonna take on the unexpected
Walked into the fire unprotected
Walk into the fire
What can one person do
What can one person be
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
What can one person do
When its one like you
When its one like me
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Nativity
1914-18
The Babe was laid in the Manger
Between the gentle kine --
All safe from cold and danger --
"But it was not so with mine,
(With mine! With mine!)
"Is it well with the child, is it well?"
The waiting mother prayed.
"For I know not how he fell,
And I know not where he is laid."
A Star stood forth in Heaven;
The Watchers ran to see
The Sign of the Promise given --
"But there comes no sign to me.
(To me! To me!)
"My child died in the dark.
Is it well with the child, is it well?
There was none to tend him or mark,
And I know not how he fell."
The Cross was raised on high;
The Mother grieved beside --
"But the Mother saw Him die
And took Him when He died.
(He died! He died!)
"Seemly and undefiled
His burial-place was made --
Is it well, is it well with the child?
For I know not where he is laid."
On the dawning of Easter Day
Comes Mary Magdalene;
But the Stone was rolled away,
And the Body was not within --
(Within! Within!)
"Ah, who will answer my word?
The broken mother prayed.
"They have taken away my Lord,
And I know not where He is laid."
. . . . .
"The Star stands forth in Heaven.
The watchers watch in vain
For Sign of the Promise given
Of peace on Earth again --
(Again! Again!)
"But I know for Whom he fell" --
The steadfast mother smiled,
"Is it well with the child -- is it well?
It is well -- it is well with the child!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Subalterns
I
"Poor wanderer," said the leaden sky,
"I fain would lighten thee,
But there are laws in force on high
Which say it must not be."
II
--"I would not freeze thee, shorn one," cried
The North, "knew I but how
To warm my breath, to slack my stride;
But I am ruled as thou."
III
--"To-morrow I attack thee, wight,"
Said Sickness. "Yet I swear
I bear thy little ark no spite,
But am bid enter there."
IV
--"Come hither, Son," I heard Death say;
"I did not will a grave
Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,
But I, too, am a slave!"
V
We smiled upon each other then,
And life to me had less
Of that fell look it wore ere when
They owned their passiveness.
poem by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alchemy Of King Midas
The king had cause to worry much
Though "World's richest man" be told
Alas there was nobody Midas dare touch
'Lest he turn them into solid gold
One day the King did shake a fist,
At God for punishing him this way
"I only wanted wealth" he hissed
Then on bended knees began to pray
"Lord I'm sorry for my selfishness
I'm sorry for unbridled greed
I pray you once again will bless
This wretched soul in dire need
God looked down after brief silence;
In gentle voice these words were spoken
"Thou hast sinned and tried mine patience
I'm pleased to see thy pride is broken"
"I lift My Gift thou hast be-spoiled,
Restored thy privilege to touch others,
Wash thine hands that once were soiled
Pledge this day to serve thy brothers"
King Midas with gratitude then cried out;
"Thy mercy Lord shall never be in doubt"
ROTMS
View ROTMS poems, images & video at;
ROTMS.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Technology's Downside
Technology can become very mean
By robbing the "I" with a machine.
Whether "I" Phone, "I" Tune or "I" Pad
The result can be magnanimously bad!
If you let the computer assume the rule,
You'll lose contacts and become the tool.
The box will wake you, remind you or find you;
It can help you calculate and recreate too.
Ah yes, technology can be a valuable assist,
But it's with real people that happiness will exist.
So don't become a slave to that little screen.
Each person should be the user not the machine.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Apology for Technology
Technology can become very mean
By robbing the "I" with a machine.
Whether "I" Phone, "I" Tune or "I" Pad
The result can be magnanimously bad!
If you let the computer assume the rule,
You'll lose contacts and become the tool.
The box will wake you, remind you or find you;
It can help you calculate and recreate too.
Ah yes, technology can be a valuable assist,
But it's with real people that success will exist.
So don't become a slave to that little screen.
Each person can be a client… not the machine.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Peaceful mind
"Some thing is not there" I cried
"It is missing some where" I decried
Wealth is in plenty and in abundance
I am richest person in world by chance
Two sons, daughters and relatives all stand
They know me well and coolly understand
I need something else to feel satisfied
As they are very close but whole life lied
What made me to feel at uneasiness?
Why was there not all happiness on face?
"If I had no wealth" would they have stood by?
I desperately searched to find answer and made frantic try
No answer came by but added new feature
Now what I understood is naked fact for sure
All are aligned to me for one reason or another
Otherwise there is no wife, children or brother
I will be no more in few more days
That will open free fight for them anyway
There will be tug of war for inheriting fortune
Everybody will be surprised to find none
I have taken full care of my empire
There is hardly anything to acquire
I have left enough for destitute and poor
I shall have some joy to feel them near
Not that I have left them bare handed
Enough care has been taken to see they are not landed
In troubles and face lot many problems
As everything is now dependant on them
I was restless with only one fear
That they may fight over wealth among dear ones
This should not create bad blood and maintain harmony with peace
Life then would pose no problem for them to live at ease
With this little assurance provided by peaceful mind
I turned my eyes to look at them very kind
I smiled at them with great satisfaction
That itself was source of less worry with good indication
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Sister
My sister is
The gravity to my Universe
She pulls me toward her
With irresistible charm and charisma
My sister is
The most important person in the world
She cares more about others than herself
If she wanted to, she could create world peace
My sister is
An animal lover in the extreme
With tender love and care;
Her instruments of healing
My sister is
The one person I would kill for
The only person who is worth everything
The inspiration to do better
My sister is
The person who makes me a better person
Saving the world one way or another
And defending others with her last breath
My sister is
The most sympathetic and loving
And the one person I couldn't bear to part with
The one that I would defend with my life
poem by Gwenevere Cornwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The New Knighthood
Who gives him the Bath?
"I," said the wet,
Rank-Jungle-sweat,
"I'll give him the Bath!"
Who'll sing the psalms?
"We," said the Palms.
"Ere the hot wind becalms,
"We'll sing the psalms."
Who lays on the sword ?
"I," said the Sun,
Before he has done,
"I'll lay on the sword."
"Who fastens his belt?
"I," said Short-Rations,
" I know all the fashions
"Of tightening a belt!"
Who gives him his spur?
"I," said his Chief,
Exacting and brief,
"I'll give him the spur."
Who'll shake his hand?
"I," said the Fever,
"And I'm no deceiver,
"I'll shake his hand."
Who brings him the wine?
"I," said Quinine,
"It's a habit of mine.
"I'11 come with his wine."
Who'll put him to proof?
"I," said All Earth.
"Whatever he's worth,
"I'll put to the proof."
Who'll choose him for Knight?
"I," said his Mother,
"Before any other,
"My very own Knight."
And after this fashion, adventure to seek,
Sir Galahad was made--as it might be last week!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Kind Of A Person
"What kind of a person are you," I heard them say to me.
I'm a person with a complex plumbing of the soul,
Sophisticated instruments of feeling and a system
Of controlled memory at the end of the twentieth century,
But with an old body from ancient times
And with a God even older than my body.
I'm a person for the surface of the earth.
Low places, caves and wells
Frighten me. Mountain peaks
And tall buildings scare me.
I'm not like an inserted fork,
Not a cutting knife, not a stuck spoon.
I'm not flat and sly
Like a spatula creeping up from below.
At most I am a heavy and clumsy pestle
Mashing good and bad together
For a little taste
And a little fragrance.
Arrows do not direct me. I conduct
My business carefully and quietly
Like a long will that began to be written
The moment I was born.
s Now I stand at the side of the street
Weary, leaning on a parking meter.
I can stand here for nothing, free.
I'm not a car, I'm a person,
A man-god, a god-man
Whose days are numbered. Hallelujah.
Translated from the Hebrew by Barbara and Benjamin Harshav
poem by Yehuda Amichai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Positive Thinker
Am I a good thinker?
Can I see what others don't?
Am I a daring person?
Can I do what others do not like to do?
Or others are afraid to do?
Am I a creative and imaginative person?
Can I see the invisible?
Can I feel the intangible?
Can I achieve the impossible?
Am I a contemplating person?
Am I a self-reflective person?
Am I a confidence person?
Am I a self-reliance person?
Can I be a perfect person?
Can I be a clever person?
Can I be a smart thinker person?
Above all,
I prefer to be
A simple person
With a positive attitude,
Not only accept positive things,
But willing to accept negative things.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!