Graduate (cavatina sequence) (in answer to Archibald Macleish)
In three years or four, holy beliefs are slain,
He did not make
either man or the earth, Charles Darwin's
theory does take
centre stage at great universities,
nonsense do rake
as mere myth the Bible into the ground,
learned men sound to themselves profound;
like gods they toss and play with all their students,
as memories
of God and His great things they cause to dwindle;
flowers and bees
as lust become simple chemical yearning,
they teach duties,
to be like gods in self actualization;
they destroy God and his creation
while magic things like the force of life
stays beyond science,
while man is bound to facts and to his own
experience,
cannot measure to an almighty being;
with patience
God and His character of love remains,
mere man struggle on in his life of pains
while still is lingering the truths of youth,
love is beyond
the bounds of man's mere own observations,
the simple bond
to survive on earth, bound by time and space,
does correspond
with a higher intelligent being
whose selfless power sustains everything.
[Reference: "Baccalaureate" by Archibald Macleish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Baccalaureate
A year or two, and grey Euripides,
And Horace and a Lydia or so,
And Euclid and the brush of Angelo,
Darwin on man, Vergilius on bees,
The nose and Dialogues of Socrates,
Don Quixote, Hudibras and Trinculo,
How worlds are spawned and where the dead gods go,--
All shall be shard of broken memories.
And there shall linger other, magic things,--
The fog that creeps in wanly from the sea,
The rotton harbor smell, the mystery
Of moonlit elms, the flash of pigeon wings,
The sunny Green, the old-world peace that clings
About the college yard, where endlessly
The dead go up and down. These things shall be
Enchantment of our heart's rememberings.
And these are more than memories of youth
Which earth's four winds of pain shall blow away;
These are earth's symbols of eternal truth,
Symbols of dream and imagery and flame,
Symbols of those same verities that play
Bright through the crumbling gold of a great name.
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On science (cavatina sequence)
(after Archibald MacLeish)
She does not worry about why things are;
that they exist
to be contemplated or observed,
how they persist,
is far enough for her own simple reasoning,
she does resist
their reason, in rote produces answers,
perfect to devotions of her followers.
She thinks she knows where all things do come from,
far beyond her
kind of scope is metaphysics, physical
she does gather,
she is protected in her own dungeon,
nothing further
she knows about love, joy, fear and sorrow,
as she proclaims things for each tomorrow.
Beyond the stars, the sheer utter darkness,
shines a true light,
beyond the unknown, beyond a ocean,
out of her sight
are things like life to which He answers know,
to her its night
to comprehend the very soul of man,
as mechanical she does what she can.
[Reference: "Dr. Sigmund Freud Discovers the Sea Shell" by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The art of poetry (cavatina sequence) (in answer to Archibald Macleish)
A poem should touch, should palpable belong,
it should reach out,
with a kind of eternal caring truth;
it should scream, shout
of each injustice and pain that do remain
and be about
almost anything or each happening,
as something that is truly worth saying.
Not silent or dumb it falls on the ear,
as it's profound,
in a great symphony of the purest
kind of clear sound,
its rhythms do ring with every line
it is not bound
by politics, machinations of men
and can be a blessing or an omen.
[Reference: "Ars poetica" by Archibald Macleish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On The End Of The World (Cavatina Sequence)
(after Archibald MacLeish)
Behind the scenes they act, while on the stage
life is a dance
and we fall for the show and laugh and play
in romance,
as in quick-time we are very smitten,
are in a trance
as some Bee-bee Bob the clown laughs and cries;
men go off to war to kill and some dies
and then still lurking are unseen beings,
in sheer darkness;
they poise, do mislead and cover their tracks,
with great aloofness
they turn all beliefs in nothing at all,
bring lawlessness,
try to drag most of humanity down
to wait on great disaster as their own.
[Reference: 'The End of the World' by Archibald MacLeish.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sight Of The Beautiful
My God what a beautiful sight, its the most beautiful I have ever seen. My Lord it is amazing what you can created by just saying simple words. Sometimes in life things can be simple but other times there that can be a hail storm on a sunny day. Many say that life is hard and death is simple, for as life comes with complication, death comes with freedom of letting go. Oh God, My God oh is this so beautiful, beautiful the stars in the night shy, beautiful as the pillar of creation, beautiful as the earth from the moon, and beautiful as a first kiss. My God Oh God how is this so beautiful? For such simple words as "let there be" can alter into reality, what all of earth should see, something that you have created just for me. Oh God, My God I love you so, for you have showed me the way to all that is beautiful. Oh God, My God for this you are beautiful, as beautiful as a rainbow in the lunar shy, those are rare to see, but so is the one whose eyes are on the sparrow. The things make you beautiful my Lord, and your beauty keeps me going, to see tomorrow, to see another day, to see everyday, and to eventually see you. Oh God My God you created beauty in its magnificence, and you never demand anything in return, only ask to return our love by loving. For we are created by of love, out of love, for the purposes of love, and that you, nay We can not be more beautiful. Oh God My God what a beautiful sight.
poem by Augustus Gatlin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How Do I Love You?
In mere words I can find no kind of way
to express the depth of my love for you,
the yearning of every passing day,
not even in the things that I say and do.
In the simple small daily kind of things
that fit into the mere puzzle of life,
intimate, sincere heartfelt tidings
outbalancing the every day strife
it is all unclear in the silent need,
that comes natural to you as my wife
it is from far beyond any act or deed
and its truth never pierces like a knife,
but is much like childhood faith, without pain
it is somewhat difficult to explain…
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God the saviour
There is greater love in that God perished innocently
that He who is almighty lowered Himself
to the image of a mere man
that He did permit earthly beings to curse Him,
even to challenge God in all of His power
to have eternal life in reconciliation
than the love that mere man knows
between husband and wife, parent and child,
than what man knows of being selfless,
as God did not forget His own creatures
and came back to those who were lost,
to win the war between good and evil.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Return of the Year
Again the warm bare earth, the noon
That hangs upon her healing scars,
The midnight round, the great red moon,
The mother with her brood of stars,
The mist-rack and the wakening rain
Blown soft in many a forest way,
The yellowing elm-trees, and again
The blood-root in its sheath of gray.
The vesper-sparrow's song, the stress
Of yearning notes that gush and stream,
The lyric joy, the tenderness,
And once again the dream! the dream!
A touch of far-off joy and power,
A something it is life to learn,
Comes back to earth, and one short hour
The glamours of the gods return.
This life's old mood and cult of care
Falls smitten by an older truth,
And the gray world wins back to her
The rapture of her vanished youth.
Dead thoughts revive, and he that heeds
Shall hear, as by a spirit led,
A song among the golden reeds:
'The gods are vanished but not dead!'
For one short hour, unseen yet near,
They haunt us, a forgotten mood,
A glory upon mead and mere,
A magic in the leafless wood.
At morning we shall catch the glow
Of Dian's quiver on the hill,
And somewhere in the glades I know
That Pan is at his piping still.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Gods
Last night, as one who hears a tragic jest,
I woke from dreams, half-laughing, half in tears;
Methought that I had journeyed in the spheres
And stood upon the Planet of the Blest
And found thereon a folk who prayed with zest
Exceeding, and through all their painful years
Like strong souls struggled on 'mid hopes and fears;
"Where dwell the gods," they said, "we shall find rest."
The gods? What gods, I thought, are those who so
Inspire their worshippers with faith that flowers
Immortal? and who make them keep aglow
The flames forever on their altar-towers?
"Where dwell these gods of yours?" I asked--and lo!
They pointed upwards to this earth of ours!
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When in rapture and in bliss
When in rapture and in bliss we do feel
that life is more
that being bound to the mere human body,
that in each kiss
things are different than they had been before;
then we realize
that in that moment somebody else truly do exist,
then we act selfless
to be perfectly part of the one that we do love.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pick The Right God.
One god cares for you, the other is so great he could careless.
One god cares for you, the other is so great he could careless, so very great he does not have time to care so he so artfully pretends to care. If you see he is a fake he will destroy you.
Yes there are two gods.
There are two kinds of gods, one is always making creations, life, creatures, beings, consciousness, and going on without looking back, creating even more spectacular creations, universes, multiverses, ever greater complex life forms one more fantastic than the other.
There is another sort of god, one that creates a universe but gives a ram about the beings he created. This god is there, this god stays with his creatures, with her beings as they struggle, as they strive, he gives them space and the ability to co-create with her. The other god, could care less, he has other better universes and forms of life to make.
in this universe in our life now, these two gods are fighting it out, in our life now we are fighting it out with them as well. Do you want the greatness of the narcissistic god of cold selfish greatness. What a price you pay for being like this god or worshipping this god. He just made you to prove to himself how great he is, or do you align your self up with the god that gives a tam about you, he made you because she wanted to share herself and all of creation with you,
poem by Michael Kavuoti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: Life
In life on earth, contrasting things happen;
The highest on earth will be soon tumbled;
The greatest on earth will be too humbled;
All can’t have success and all can’t captain.
The higher we fly, greater will be fall;
The greater the care we ought to take then;
We are all human and we are mere men;
Though feeling secure, we await the call.
Life is in achieving great things may be!
The balance of mind and peace, you will need;
No time can any man control the sea!
Nature is far greater, supreme indeed.
Every man ought to learn his limits first;
Man is driven by curiosity’s thirst.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lingering, A Feather Is Blown Around And Around
Lingering, a feather is blown around and around
while it falls from a white dove
where it flutters away against the heavenly blue sky
and there is something that I see
of God’s great creative power,
when I feel life rushing through my veins,
with the wind swishing around me
and this is on earth just another normal day.
Like this His love which is totally selfless, is lingering,
I see in my mind’s eye the dove descending on Him,
I hear His Father’s voice
when He who Himself is pure comes from the water
and His whole life on earth,
His humanity, His existence
turns my thoughts back to Him
and there is only deep love, wherever I look,
that forever stays lingering.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Such existence
I wondered over such existence
Which has no present, past or future sentence?
Which keeps us always worrying and tense?
Yes I know about it but what else?
I have no specific clues as to our living
How can we be that good as human being?
When plenty of my fellow men are hungry?
Prayers offered with sincerity but feel still angry
Some where I think error has been made
Why divinity is offered and cashed on as trade?
Some Gods are openly advocated as freely available
Financial help, gift articles and many things for inviting troubles
No one has any time to ask welfare
Everything is taken as mere fun fare
What happens even if only one God exists!
People suffer still but no one insists
There may still remain barrier
Poor may suffer as mere carrier
Rich may offer nothing and increase plight
They may not want to know what is wrong or right
I wonder in this wonderland
But yet to claim it as holy motherland
I may find many foes and friends
Unaware of meeting same kind of tragic end
We may not realize importance
As we may miss life altogether at once
Once you are dead or no more
There want be anything in store
God or no God all may remain behind as mere thought
Even though it might have been fiercely followed or fought
What do we bother in world as mere identity of an individual?
Life to be spent in uncertainty and as simple as casual
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature's Questioning
WHEN I look forth at dawning, pool,
Field, flock, and lonely tree,
All seem to look at me
Like chastened children sitting silent in a school;
Their faces dulled, constrained, and worn,
As though the master's ways
Through the long teaching days
Their first terrestrial zest had chilled and overborne.
And on them stirs, in lippings mere
(As if once clear in call,
But now scarce breathed at all)--
"We wonder, ever wonder, why we find us here!
"Has some Vast Imbecility,
Mighty to build and blend,
But impotent to tend,
Framed us in jest, and left us now to hazardry?
"Or come we of an Automaton
Unconscious of our pains?...
Or are we live remains
Of Godhead dying downwards, brain and eye now gone?
"Or is it that some high Plan betides,
As yet not understood,
Of Evil stormed by Good,
We the Forlorn Hope over which Achievement strides?"
Thus things around. No answerer I....
Meanwhile the winds, and rains,
And Earth's old glooms and pains
Are still the same, and gladdest Life Death neighbors nigh.
poem by Thomas Hardy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Threshold
In their deepest caverns of limestone
They pictured the Gods of Food--
The Horse, the Elk, and the Bison
That the hunting might be good;
With the Gods of Death and Terror--
The Mammoth, Tiger, and Bear.
And the pictures moved in the torchlight
To show that the Gods were there!
But that was before Ionia--
(Or the Seven Holy Islands of Ionia)
Any of the Mountains of Ionia,
Had bared their peaks to the air.
The close years packed behind them,
As the glaciers bite and grind,
Filling the new-gouged valleys
With Gods of every kind.
Gods of all-reaching power--
Gods of all-searching eyes--
But each to be wooed by worship
And won by sacrifice.
Till, after many winters, rose Ionia--
(Strange men brooding in Ionia)
Crystal-eyed Sages of Ionia
Who said, "These tales are lies.
"We dream one Breath in all things,
"That blows all things between.
"We dream one Matter in all things--
"Eternal, changeless, unseen.
"'That the heart of the Matter is single
"Till the Breath shall bid it bring forth--
"By choosing or losing its neighbour--
"All things made upon Earth."
But Earth was wiser than Ionia
(Babylon and Egypt than Ionia)
And they overlaid the teaching of Ionia
And the Truth was choked at birth.
It died at the Gate of Knowledge--
The Key to the Gate in its hand--
And the anxious priests and wizards
Re-blinded the wakening land;
For they showed, by answering echoes,
And chasing clouds as they rose,
How shadows should stand for bulwarks
Between mankind and its woes.
It was then that men bethought them of Ionia
(The few that had not allforgot Ionia)
Or the Word that was whispered in Ionia;
And they turned from the shadows and the shows.
They found one Breath in all things,
That moves all things between.
They proved one Matter in all things--
Eternal, changeless, unseen;
That the heart of the Matter was single
Till the Breath should bid it bring forth--
Even as men whispered in Ionia,
(Resolute, unsatisfied Ionia)
Ere the Word was stifled in Ionia--
All things known upon earth!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Go to hell
Go to hell, go to hell'
Blasted one young teen
"What am I doing on net? "
"You are doing nonsense, I bet"
Taken a back for a while
Fumed and just disappeared the smile
was I so unwelcome or wrong?
Had I no place to find friends among?
I am in my teen, and not yet twenty
you may have lived with years plenty
"Are you not ashamed' to be on net"
"Dear you can blast, but have we ever met? " I asked
No, but you have commitment a sin
Put your ideas in just dust bin
Whether be it pot or simple tin
I will not let you allow to score point or win
I said "Dear calm down"
You aren't the only one in town
You may frown, eyes may turn brown
Not only 'hell', but use and add another noun
Not only sex on phone but nudity too
Still may be there simple purity to be true
Why do not you make point or just clarity?
What can be best quality to justify? I argued
"No then also, you just go to hell"
You need no alarms pr bell
It will be bad if you stick here and perform well
"Consider it right now and jump in the well" She argued
Oh, dear teen, you are simple kid
You know not and have no lid
Candle can be lit and not just ignite
"If you have will power and ideas definite" I tried to cool her down
Fear not for a while from simple man
Freedom may be right but can't force a ban
Never do or suffer from narrow thought
Danger may be lurking but always to be fought
I thought for a while but did not cave
Honor was at stake and was absolutely necessary to save
Things may be right but not put in right prospective
She was foolish teen but not subjective
it is always good to be friends on line
Some of the fears can allayed or sidelined
the prestige and status should be respected
One must realize and certainly introspected
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Summons
I can not bow to woo thee
With honey words and flower kisses
And the dew of sweet half-truths
Fallen on the grass of old quaint love-tales
Of broidered days foredone.
Nor in the murmurous twilight
May I sit below thee,
Worshiping in whispers
Tremulous as far-heard bells.
All these things have I known once
And passed
In that gay youth I had but yester-year.
And that is gone
As the shadow of wind.
Nay, I can not woo thee thus;
But as I am ever swept upward
To the centre of all truth
So must I bear thee with me
Rapt into this great involving flame,
Calling ever from the midst thereof,
"Follow! Follow!"
And in the glory of our meeting
Shall the power be reborn.
And together in the midst of this power
Must we, each outstriving each,
Cry eternally:
"I come, go thou yet further."
And again, "Follow,"
For we may not tarry.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Higher Bound
Well, Im easy to love
But Im harder to hold
Down through this earth
My story is told
Im a wheeling and a-winding down
Every road and every town
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Ive as many eyes
As ever were
And though Im older
Than the world
I am the very youngest thing
That ever did breath upon a pearl
I am a coat of many colours
With the coronation stone and the crown
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Im the song of the river
Speeding unceasing to the sea
Im alive!
Im in love!
Each and every time
Theres some for me
My head is in the stars
My feet are on the ground
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
I filled the hall
At bru na boine
I saw the rose
Of mystery
Ive been a fish
Upon a coin
Complete
Ill never be...
Ill meet you on the mountain
When the mountain time comes around
Im tumbling through the years
Higher bound!
Im dancing through the years
Higher bound!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Intimations Of Immortality (In Answer To William Wordsworth)
I
Love is something that we see
in a eternal light
with a own illumination in the darkest night
and its goodness is more than mere charity
as if immortality comes to it
when it is true and sincere,
when we really hold someone dear
and it fills our souls bit by tiny bit
and where our lives are only fleeting
we long for some perfection,
something more to our affection,
something that goes beyond each meeting
of the human kind
something of the divine,
something rare past fine,
that we try to define in the human mind.
II
We notice the sun that hides during the night
but returns daily with a kind of celestial light
and view it as necessary to maintain life,
we notice the ocean stretching beyond mere sight
and even at times the hills seems eternal,
the seasons that comes and go
the falling rain, the winter snow,
volcanoes that seem infernal
holds to us a special place
are all things that we view as being constant
and for life on some of them we are dependant
but we only live by amazing grace.
Yet everything is fleeting and transitory,
stars explode; their energy at a time is spent
and it is this earth’s story
that all things are evanescent.
III
Only God is eternal and immortal,
and His power with which He sustains things
while to us who are merely mortal
by His grace there are daily awakenings
and with every new birth
His unconditional love is expressed
as involvement from the divine on this earth
and continually we are blessed
while rainbows hold a own secret message,
while there is life in every meadow, grove, and stream
and His power and presence isn’t just a dream
but is expressed from eternity and still acts in this age.
[Reference: “Intimations of Immortality” by William Wordsworth.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!