I Believe.... (Chant Four)
i believe...
in unlimited passion,
in touching, tasting,
and smelling,
in diving into the pond.
that it is not always
the answer we seek,
but the right to question.
that the perceived seperation
between man and god,
is a creation of man's
conceptual thinking!
that kindness is the key
to understanding...
that solitude is most often
self imposed!
that the true warrior is gentle,
that the sparrow is our guide.
and that communication is the key
that unlocks the door
to the naked heart.
i believe in you, in me,
and in the breath of all that lives...
i believe....
poem by Eric Cockrell
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It Takes.... (To Be Human!)
it takes sweat,
callouses, bruises,
tears, passion and wetness...
it takes hugs, deep thinking,
the root of anger,
and the bridge of kindness...
dirty feet, dirty hands,
naked hearts,
the stink of bodies...
joining, touching, standing,
falling, getting back up...
cursing, praying, singing,
breathing, fucking, holding close...
smiling, giving, sharing, losing,
giving a damn....
listening, reading, searching,
questioning, believing....
daring, trusting, flying,
sitting in deep silence waiting...
forgiveness walking,
gut wrenching talking,
seeing the beauty living...
touching, tasting, smelling...
you and me...
to be human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Girl Called Passion
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
So I want you to know that I was born to love you,
Each day of my life is meant to be looking at the moon.
Love is like magic and it always will be,
My love still remains strong as never did.
Love works in ways that are passion and strange,
And there's nothing in life that love cannot change.
Passion can transform you Into beauty and splendour,
Your sweetness and grace can be always tender.
Your passion is unselfish, understanding and kind,
I love you with my heart and with my mind.
Your passion is the answer that everyone seeks,
Passion is the language, that every everyone speaks.
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
poem by Gianni Pintus
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Sensuality
FEELING hunger and cold, feeling
Food, feeling fire, feeling
Pity and pain, tasting
Time in a kiss, tasting
Anger and tears, touching
Eyelids with lips, touching
Plague, touching flesh, knowing
Blood in the mouth, knowing
Laughter like flame, holding
Pickaxe and pen, holding
Death in the hand, hearing
Boilers and bells, hearing
Birds, hearing hail, smelling
Cedar and sweat, smelling
Petrol and sea, feeling
Hunger and cold, feeling
Food, feeling fire. . . .
Feeling.
poem by Kenneth Slessor
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Perceivers Of Knowledge
that was a good question
the previous answer
was for the young novice
yours was not a novice question
an answer is formulated
at appropriate questioner learning level
least understanding is lost
an answer must be perceived understood
if there is no perception
interaction with concepts conveyed
no progression will be made
no knowledge will be attained
poem by Terence George Craddock
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God Notes
i believe God is both
male and female, and neither!
both human, and spirit...
beyond our conceptual thoughts.
person, non person, creator,
and created. the image of
the life force we just cant
seem to see in ourselves, and
in others. both the question,
and the answer, enlightenment
and compassion.... the need,
and the food, the light, and
the darkness from whence it came.
the cry of humanity for understanding,
and what we would see if we stood
naked in front of a mirror!
both the path, and the feet...
and the revelation of human destiny!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Beauty of You
The Beauty of You
The beauty of you in everything I see
From the glowing fire in the skies
Created by you, to warm us and guide us
To the never ending horizon where ocean meets sky
Nothing escapes my eyes in the beauty I see
Silvery calm water, a reflection of peace
Gentle breeze mingling with bird song
A melody of your creation dancing in my heart
Oh God of all creation, from near and far we seek you
Oh God of all of me, from ashes into beauty my life with you
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God of all creation, the now and then
Oh God, Oh God, Oh God of all creation, in You no end
poem by Lisa Finney
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My Question for M lady Fay
There is a question I must pose
In the vain hope that someone knows
Who’s willing to enlighten me.
Before my birth where would I be
This question always puzzles me
and when I die where do I go.
I have asked priests who hesitate
to answer me, they vacillate.
Because in truth they do not know.
They quote their Holy Book to me
But I have looked and cannot see.
The answer that I seek to find.
Why is it that they pretend to know
from whence I came and where I go.
And yet they will not answer me.
My question is a simple one
I make it clear to everyone.
But no one seems to understand.
The truth is what I seek to know
From whence I came where do I go.
Will somebody please answer me.
20-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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World Of Understanding
Could we ever live in a world of understanding?
The question has been asked many times
and always the answer eludes us.
Will there ever come a time
when brother will not take up arms against another brother?
Another answer that eludes us.
Will humankind ever stop to ponder
the justification for what they do?
Yet another answer that eludes us.
Will there ever be a peace where lives
will not be forfeited in the sake of some honour?
Another answer that eludes us to be added to the every growing list.
Will men and women one-day link hands
around the world with out predigest ever showing?
Still another answer to elude us
We can only hope and pray
it will come our way,
then on that day we will eventually live
within a world of understanding.
poem by David Harris
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Gentle Morning Rain
You are as the gentle morning rain
Giving life to all that here below remain
Your scope unlimited across this earth’s terrain
Each speckled spot of moistness
Alights on my face with a gentle wakefulness
Awakening me to your love and gracefulness
In the gentle morning rain.
Your mid day sunlight melts the gentle rain
Your warmth over all of us does reign
The light by which we see and then attain
Each blessed ray of light illuminating
And revealing all that needs our understanding
Even in the dark your eternal light reflecting
You melt the gentle morning rain.
Your afternoon wind carries the gentle rain
Your breath gives us all our life to sustain
Our minds are cleared as you breathe again
Each gasp of breath breathed with life’s zest
How many breaths are measured for this chest
Before all my worldly goods I must bequest
You carry the gentle morning rain.
And when the evening comes that gentle rain
Is still present here, as love it does remain
In the twilight of this day it never goes away
Your love that is the gentle morning rain.
poem by David Taylor
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God is Gerund
God is Being
God is the unfolding of a flower
God is Nature Naturing
Spinoza expressing it
God is having ecstasy
Loving is God
Living seeing understanding evolving
Dying
Transcending rising like bread
Remembering tasting of red wine
God is diving into the deep
Awakening from sleep
Feeling burning with passion
Having compassion
Finally arriving at the Beginning
Make no mistake God
Is imagining the ideal out of the real.
poem by Jack E Miller
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Deserted Cemeteries Of The Heart
I was in my white room
Sitting on top of the world
Where there are no cares to implore
Never worried about if there was more
Touching monsters that are made to laugh
Tasting colors, smelling every sound
Bite the dog of reality's hound
All this in a way, without any
Hell has come to claim it's fair game
In the deserted cemeteries of the heart
poem by Midnights Voice
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That We Worship!
sometimes we return to the inner chapters,
behind doors too long closed.
and stand naked before our needs and emotions,
in the place that comes before words.
with honest lips tasting, with raw nostrils smelling,
with ears laid down to listen...
and the heart to believe.
it is in these rare moments that we worship!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Fordwour
Kindness, trust and attractiveness;
I love you like the stranger standing naked beside my bed,
Because, the checkpoints of your love will guide me on.
Bridges,
Theses are all part of life on this love;
And i will be the woman in your heart.
Oh my handsome Fordwour,
Your love is like a continental championship at my door;
And i will love you like the stranger standing naked beside my bed.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Parting From Wang Wei
Quiet end what wait
Day day must go return
Wish seek fragrant grass go
Grieve with old friend separated
On road who mutual help
Understanding friend life this scarce
Only should observe solitude
Again close native area door
Quietly, I've waited here so long,
Day after day; but now I must return.
Now I go to seek the fragrant grass,
But I grieve to part from my old friend.
Who is there who would help me on the road?
Understanding friends are few in life.
I should just observe my solitude,
And close again the gate of my old home.
poem by Meng Haoran
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Eight Ways Of The Saints
Now gentle Love you guide us in your reign
which rules a night whose stars at last align
and tiers of passion mirror from it's pane
Parched, featureless lone landscape of the plain
when winds of oaths, rapt thunder, light entwine,
now gentle, Love you guide us in your rain
A past too often wasted, spent in vain
now forwards to a night where two combine
and tears of passion mirror from it's pain
Emotions run, wild horses through our veins
spent, flared nostrals I whinny near equine
now gentle Love, you guide us in your rein
Moon who moves the oceans, as this night wanes,
hope's passed to Sun with it's reflective shine
and tears of passion mirror from it's pane
As gods not of this earth two souls ordain
our share'd throne in throes of the devine,
now gentle Love you guide us in your reign
and tears of passion mirror from it's pain
poem by Richard S. Wells
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Missed Chance
It was missed chance
Such type of moments comes only at once
Consider it as heavenly sent chance
That takes place in two heart's presence
I knew of your double mind
You were confused for real joy to find
You had everything at your disposal
As it needed no fresh proposal
Certainly my heart missed a beat
As there was tremendous warmth and heat
You were hanging in my arms
Was it a signal before storms?
The joy was reflected on your face
Was it an end of passion or mad race?
I could decide nothing and left it to you
The feelings and attachment was only true
It is timely aggression and gentle flow
It can take anybody by surprise with blow
One must think seriously and become slow
As it may be last chance to think and go
I smiled at your sudden withdrawal
Even though it was expected on arrival
You may retrace step and lay in dilemma
As this was life time question and not drama
I let you go silently and watched
I was up in bed and thoroughly searched
Asked question many times to own soul
Was there any fault with me or any foul?
The answer may never be found
As it has its own reality ground
One must be thorough with what one is doing
Rest all follows with clear understanding
I bet she was wrong at that time
As decision has to be taken sometimes
Time waits for none and opportunity is lost
One may never know how much it has cost
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Interview Conceptual
INTERVIEW CONCEPTUAL
One of his most senior advisers took me to one side and said: 'If there is a question I do not like, I will tell the president not to answer it.'
'I'm sorry, ' I said, 'that's not the way we do interviews at the BBC.'
The aide grimaced but reluctantly agreed not to intervene.
Stephen Sackur
Presenter, BBC HARDtalk
the interview is conceptual map you'd better draw in a psychological awareness and with a think-good aesthetics.
(BBC interview with Myanmar president U THein Sein in sep,2012.
Black Bruises IV
I can gorge the vile blackness,
the eviscerated acquiescence
like a dog-eats-dog carnival
I can endure the struggle
tasting blotted inks,
tasting cheap champagnes,
tasting one's molting skin,
tasting a chance to begin,
tasting cold greasy dishes,
tasting stark carnal sin,
tasting tar and nicotine,
tasting saline misery,
but am I the only one tasting
these black bruised savors?
poem by Norman Santos
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I tried to fit it in with some previous broad conceptual understanding of some part of mathematics that would clarify the particular problem I was thinking about.
quote by Andrew Wiles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sphinx
THIS mystery of golden hair,
Of eyes and lips and bosom fair,
Is not--if one could really see--
Mere flesh and blood, like you and me:
This is a sphinx whose still lips say
This one thing ever, day by day,
To all who cross her in life's ways:
'Which is the way to love?' she says.
For every man who meets her eyes
In their deep depths the question lies;
And vainly would he seek to fly
Or put the wordless challenge by,
Unless within his soul be set
Some true-love vow as amulet:
This clasping, let him flee her spell,
Nor trust its guardian powers too well.
Nothing seems good to think about
But just to find that secret out;
We bring her fruits of earnest hours,
And offer choice of passion-flowers,
Of crowns, of heart's blood, of heart's ache,
Our hopes we spurn, our joys forsake,
While she looks down upon our pain
Without compassion or disdain.
She does not will to question thus--
Fate made her just to torture us;
Nor can she tell you, if she will,
Aught of your guesses, good or ill.
But if you fail to answer well,
Your own foiled heart prepares your hell,
And all your days you walk alone,
And curse the done and the undone.
She does not bid you for her sake
Your soul to wreck, your life to break,
Nor would she choose it for her part.
Only for ever in your heart
The haunting question must abide,
And clamour morn and eventide,
Until no single note your ear
Of all life's harmonies can hear.
Yet to some man it will be given
To find the key that opens heaven;
For him, beloved by all the Fates,
Answer as well as question waits
In those unwakened eyes of hers,
And when their calm that answer stirs,
From her stone sleep the sphinx will wake
Into a woman, for his sake.
What though one's whole life's light grows night
With that unanswered question's blight?
One's one poor chance is richly worth
The richest certainties of earth!
Myself would rather die, I know--
Starved, just because I want her so--
Than feast in highest heaven of bliss
On any other woman's kiss.
Such spells she has, I would not choose
One look or touch of hers to lose,
Though every touch and look have power
To sting me to my dying hour;
Though every breath of hers should bring
Frost on life's bud and blossoming,
What soul could ask a dearer death
Than to be withered by her breath?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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