The suffering we are...
I’m only looking to post this mail
I don’t know if it will get through
To the hostel where you daily seek a kind of health
And stumbling to my hill
I can’t ensure a forward path
To hospitals where they will seek to call you ill
It isn’t clear
That you aren’t horizontal, flat or broke –
Or lucky with the government, provision for the unemployed
There’s not been a cough or word
Since we cooked and laughed in Coventry
And you told me how your mother said that you should marry me
I only have discovered
In this brief and frothing brew of my affection
A little aphoristic pill that puts us sane above the rest:
It would be cynical to cure
All the suffering we are, to contain
The pain we see, with art, of any quality.
poem by Frank Bana
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Related quotes
It May Become Necessary to Take a Detour
Clear a path for those who approach,
Carrying their excessive baggage.
They will seek assistance,
From anyone within distance...
To ease with a dumping,
Of their aging an old issues.
Just clear a path and let them pass.
It may become necessary to take a detour.
Just to ensure a convincing isn't done,
To have someone's company 'dragging' along.
Especially when a mission of one,
Has been focused upon...
With a determination that dismisses delays.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seek Beauty
how long
and how lonely
are the steeps of your lies
and yet
how painfully liberating is the path that your truth requires?
so seek
seek beauty
in laughter and in tears
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
coz in the end
when the lamp oil
burnt the flicker once and for all
we fade
we perish in that final hour
savouring the promise of glorious dawn
so seek
seek beauty in the ugly and in the vain
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight
the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
and take joy
in your daily struggle
let go repulsion as it clings to the shock
discovery
entering illumination
the transformation of matter into void
so seek
seek beauty
in corruption and in the pure
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
seek beauty!
poem by Andrew JansBrown
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Solitude....
Solitude is good
just hide from everyone in the dark
cave,
I want to dig my nails
into my own flesh,
to see if I am still alive?
and guess,
How it feels to see someone else suffer?
Yet, you can't do a thing
a darn bloody thing
to help,
to ease their pain
and suffering
yes, solitude is good
hide away from reality
the daily grind of life
not the one you see on
a big silver screen or the screen
of a TV
reality, not the kind in a town call Mayberry
or a town like Beverly Hills
Solitude is good
and I need one, OR
I want to overdose on drugs
to put my mind to sleep and rest
send myself to a world
that I have seen in movies and
read about in books
full of colorful pages of life and happy People
loving each other in a psychedelic rave
but reality bites
it's a poisonous pill
that you swallow
to move from one stage to the other
and just have to marry misery
and live and suffer in disgrace
and to see people in awfully
miserable pain.....
yes, solitude is good.
poem by Khalid Hameed
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That Word - from a poem by Kabir
What is there to say
about that word?
Nothing. It is itself enough.
Everything. For everything springs from it;
whatever you speak, is praise of it.
Seek it. But where to seek it?
On a clear night, go outside;
see the stars of the Milky Way shimmering there.
Somewhere inside yourself, you will be near
that word.
When you have found that place
near it, guard it:
love its mystery – always beyond;
love its reality – all that springs from it;
writers write from it;
musicians sing it, play from it;
dancers dance from it;
renunciates owning nothing in their snowy caves
are full of it;
even the greedy seek it everywhere;
even disbelievers have to say it, to deny it;
we live in it, move in it, owe our being to it;
yet it means nothing to you until you seek it;
for inside that word,
everything is full of light;
there is enough of that light in one human heart
to light the whole world.
Breathe in that word;
breathe out that word.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The One At Home
Don told me that he loved me dear
Where down the range Whioola pours;
And when I laughed and would not hear
He flung away to fight the wars.
He flung away—how should he know
My foolish heart was dancin' so?
How should he know that at his word
My soul was trillin' like a bird?
He went out in the cannon smoke.
He did not seek to ask me why.
Again each day my poor heart broke
To see the careless post go by.
I cared not for their Emperors—
For me there was this in the wars;
My brown boy in the shell-clouds dim,
And savage devils killin' him!
They told me on the field he fell,
And far they bore him from the fight,
But he is whole—he will be well
Now in a ward by day and night
A fair, tall nurse with slim, neat hands
By his white bedside smilin' stands;
His brow with trailin fingertips
She soothes, and damps his fevered lips!
I know her not, but I can see
How blue her great eyes are, and hear
The cooin' of her voice as she
Speaks gentle comfort to my dear;
With love as sweet as mother's care
She heals his wounds, she strokes his hair…
O God, could I but let him see
The hate of her consumin' me!
poem by Edward George Dyson
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An Expectation Of Familiarity
Exhausted from the process of moving forward,
Has left many out of breath...
Without taking viable steps.
Weaving through those who protest new directions,
Is like getting a child to think of eating vegetables...
As best for their health.
Unless perceptions change...
Directions to communicate corrections,
Will not benefit swift actions that call for it.
Even though people say they seek change,
The implementation and the quality...
Has to have an expectation of familiarity.
Or the affect of it will not be accepted.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A life is
Seek the radiance of God
To share tenderness of love,
Seek the radiance of love
To share feelings of fondness,
Seek the radiance of faith
To share compassion of peace,
Seek the radiance of Peace
To share the ultimate of passion
Seek the glowing path of passion
To discover a source for salvation;
Once you tread the ‘path of trust’
You are bound to experience
The real worth of what, "A Life Is".
poem by Dr. Ashok T Chakravarthy (November 2016)
Submitted by Dr. Ashok Chakravarthy
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Horizontal Rain
It is the horizontal rain
Passing through this world of pain
That supports our very frame
Assembled from galactica
It’s structures then collected are
To form our bodies insular
To ride the horizontal rain
It is the horizontal rain
Passing through and out again
Enabling continuity
Resistance being the polar key
Defeat of matter by the mind
In gravity our place defined
We ride the horizontal rain
It is the horizontal rain
Seen by those who use their brain
That enables Time to claim
Our journey to our destiny
We wander down these mists of time
Mists that transfer line by line
To ride the horizontal rain
It is the horizontal rain
Which you may call another name
That we should try to comprehend
And in that act the time you spend
Will demonstrate how Time does blend
Its very essence through our frame
Within it’s horizontal rain
Now think ye if I’ve got it wrong
Tell me, when you last dwelt upon
How your body forms and grows
Travels through time with things you know?
It’s time to you it was explained -
We ride a horizontal rain
See the horizontal rain
Pass through the room and out again
Supporting all there is to see
Transporting us through Time to be
Or not to be
That is the question put to thee
Through the horizontal rain
poem by Egal Bohen
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The World Health Organisation has a lot of its medical experts sitting in Geneva while hospitals in Africa have no drugs and desperate patients are forced to seek medication on the black market.
quote by Pauline Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be In The Word
Everyday you should be in The Word, this friend, I have often heard.
I need God to guide me every day, to listen to what He has to say.
For The Lord has a path set for me, to lead me safely into Eternity.
His Word is a light on my path, to guide me away from pending wrath.
But when I stray from His light, I walk from the day into the night.
I begin to kick against the goads, and wander down forbidden roads.
His Word is my very life to me, and it guides me when I can not see.
For The Word of God in my life, guards me from much pain and strife.
I must hide it in my heart, for Christ is with me each waking start.
And He goes with me throughout the day guiding every word I say.
And whenever I forget to pray, my heart deep inside begins to stray.
Then I forget The Word He instilled and act against my Father’s will.
His Word can not be ignored, for it’s sharper than a two edged sword.
And it cuts deep into the heart of man, and shows me just what I am.
I’m a sinner saved by God’s Grace, and daily I need to seek His face.
Prayer is how my heart may plea but The Word is how God speaks to me.
When through prayer I speak to Him, His Word helps me deal with sin.
With The Word dwelling within, the daily battles Christ helps me win.
His Word is an essential part in my life and how God cleanses my heart.
When I allow The Word to dwell in me, The Spirit truly sets me free.
Christ sets me free from my will so that in my life His is fulfilled.
And that, according to God’s Word, is to preach until all have heard.
That for me He paid the price, and on that cross I died with Christ.
And for me to serve Jesus Christ, my life must be a living sacrifice.
(Copyright ©07/2004)
Autumn Love
Search. Search. Seek. Seek.
Cold. Cold. Clear. Clear.
Sorrow. Sorrow. Pain. Pain.
Hot flashes. Sudden chills.
Stabbing pains. Slow agonies.
I can find no peace.
I drink two cups, then three bowls,
Of clear wine until I can’t
Stand up against a gust of wind.
Wild geese fly over head.
They wrench my heart.
They were our friends in the old days.
Gold chrysanthemums litter
The ground, pile up, faded, dead.
This season I could not bear
To pick them. All alone,
Motionless at my window,
I watch the gathering shadows.
Fine rain sifts through the wu-t’ung trees,
And drips, drop by drop, through the dusk.
What can I ever do now?
How can I drive off this word —
Hopelessness?
poem by Li Ching Chao
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I am a complete mad man
Suffering of the people
Gives me a pain poisonous
In the heart rubs
The sorrow, the delirium delirious
Just to lessen the sadness
I laughed, the laugh was loud
Before I was very sane
Now I am a complete mad man.
Ha, ha, he, he, ho, ho.
People cut a joke make a fun
I don't care
As they are found
Coarse and blunt
The dullards
Dolling out dull
So I walk
Like a king insane
The owner of
The sun and the moon.
Ha, ha he, he ho, ho.
I could save myself
If I was a vagabond
Totally stoic indifferent
But I had a heart very sensitive
And could not bear the grief
Just to lesson it, I laughed,
The laugh was very loud
Before I was sane
Now I am a complete mad man.
Ha, ha he, he hi, hi ho, ho.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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To a mother in the making
I thank you on behalf of the entire human kind for having chosen to become a mother.
A great mother you should be as you ensure the continuance of a genetic order, a wonder design of nature.
You are not only the mother of child you bear, but a global mother taking care of all with your kindness and affection to the little one, you are helping to land.
You are already a mother, as you became one from that moment, when the little one established itself in your nourishing womb.
You must be proud, because there are not many, who climb to this pedestal of motherhood.
You are lucky to tell the world loud and clear, that the human bonding is still there, as you bear the sign of it.
You are proving yourself the symbol of love, perseverance and patience.
Caution but, do not become possessive of this great gift to the world.
The child you bear is a gift you give to this waiting world.
Whether it be a son or daughter it makes no difference, but ensure in it are implanted your nobler thoughts.
Let that be Ram, the great son and the loyal husband
Let that be Sita, the personification of patience
Let that be Shiva, the perfectionist
Let that be Krishna, the granter of happiness
Let that be Buddha, the peace-loving guy
Let that be Christ, the painstaking path finder
Let that be Shakti, the symbol of energy
Let that be Arjuna, the great warrior
Let that be Karna, the great giver
Let that be Bheeshma, the great son and the protector
Let that be Einstein, the great scientist
Let that be Shankara or Ramanuja the spiritual path finders
Let the child be any one
You are our great mother
Let your positive attitudes flow through its brain cells in the formation
Let your philanthropic views fill its small heart
Let your far sightedness invade this little one
Let your all-giving mind become part of its attitude
Let all your and its father’s good features constitute this colourful butterfly still in the cocoon.
You will not entertain any bad thoughts now.
You will not consume anything that may hurt this little one growing in you.
You will not make the kid suffer the shocks of adrenaline that your blood stream gets injected because of your anxious moments.
Nothing to worry.
All will be fine, as it is and as it was.
You may know with the arrival your arrival child there are two deliveries. One birth is of course of your child and the other is that of a great mother.
Awaiting the arrival of a mother
affectionately
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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HOW many of the body's health complain,
HOW many of the body's health complain,
When they some deeper malady conceal;
Some unrest of the souled, some secret pain,
Which thus its presence doth to them reveal.
Vain would we seek, by the physician's aid,
A name for this soul-sickness e'er to find;
A remedy for health and strength decayed,
Whose cause and cure are wholly of the mind
To higher nature is the soul allied,
And restless seeks its being's Source to know;
Finding not health nor strength in aught beside;
How often vainly sought in things below,
Whether in sunny clime, or sacred stream,
Or plant of wondrous powers of which we dream!
poem by Jones Very
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Periodicity
My friend declares
Being woman and virgin she
Takes small account of periodicity
And she is right.
Her days are calmly spent
For her sex-function is irrelevant.
But I whose life
Is monthly broke in twain
Must seek some sort of meaning in my pain.
Women, I say,
Are beautiful in change,
Remote, immortal, like the moon they range.
Or call my pain
A skirmish in the whole
Tremendous conflict between body and soul.
Meaning must lie,
Some beauty surely dwell
In the fierce depths and uttermost pits of hell.
Yet still I seek,
Month after month in vain,
Meaning and beauty in recurrent pain.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Uncurable Pain
Someone out there has a cure to my pain,
But the faster they cure mine someone else feels the same.
It's probably a cure for my pain, maybe it is, or maybe it's not,
Whatever this pain is, it hurts alot.
My pain is like a river that never starts to flow,
But I know I'm not the only person with pain, other people have pain also.
Pain is like one of a kind like me and you,
It doesn't hurt as bad because I know it is something that I got to live through.
This pain is a mixture between life and death,
It was me all along hurting myself.
poem by La'Kira Jackson
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Soul-Sickness
How many of the body's health complain,
When they some deeper malady conceal;
Some unrest of the soul, some secret pain,
Which thus its presence doth to them reveal.
Vain would we seek, by the physician's aid,
A name for this soul-sickness e'er to find;
A remedy for health and strength decayed,
Whose cause and cure are wholly of the mind
To higher nature is the soul allied,
And restless seeks its being's Source to know;
Finding not health nor strength in aught beside;
How often vainly sought in things below,
Whether in sunny clime, or sacred stream,
Or plant of wondrous powers of which we dream!
poem by Jones Very
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We Who....
we who would seek a home,
find our home with the homeless.
we who seek truth,
know the tree to be a tree!
we who seek liberty,
throw all that we own onto the fire.
we who seek love,
feed the hungry.
we who seek companionship,
simply become dialogue...
we who would seek god,
well, all of the above.
we who seek tomorrow,
give today to a stranger...
and wrap his feet up
with our dreams!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Pain is Love
Pain is heartache,
Pain is an emotional heart break.
Pain is a roller coaster.
That is filled with twists, turns, and hills.
Pain is an emotional medication.
Best taken if it were a pill.
Pain is love.
Love is an emotional bond that holds me to you.
Pain is the love that forces me to seduce you.
Take you into my world, mold and console you.
Pain is the way you walked out of my life.
Love is the way i got over my hurt you left me to endure.
For this pain, a pill.
There was no cure.
poem by Ashley Roseanne Pleasure
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False Reliance
With all the diseases that visit mankind
it makes you wonder if they'll ever find
a cure for any of them
without taking a pill?
I guess they won't.
I guess they never will.
'Cause if they did what would drugstores do?
Beg all the scientists to make another flu?
It's a damn cryin' shame
that our species is so weak.
If we keep depending on science
then our future's pretty bleak.
Just thinkin' about this predicament
makes my head ache.
Don't close those drug stores.
I need a pill to take.
So we take the path that science calls health
and provide the elite with more of our wealth.
Now the status quo stays the same.
Who do we have that we can blame?
Ourselves.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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