Predawn Stillness
From empty pockets
dreams collect
the weight of open palms
the night's wild appetite equal
to the emptiness of which poor man's
stomach?
(inner rumblings)
Manifest unseen
sound
created in shadow
seconds perspire
shaken into such
total stillness
a silent movement
felt with such density
as to be known
only
by those
innumerable
fish
under which
the sea rests
its vast body of
unknown
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Related quotes
A tribute to Ramana Maharshi
Movement, beautiful movement
comes out of stillness;
dancers know this;
sound, beautiful sound,
comes out of silence;
musicians, singers, know this;
what then, of stillness and silence?
Be still for a while;
be silent for a while;
and you will know
all you need to know
and the question, who am I?
is answered
in stillness, in silence,
in the riches of yourself;
in the treasure of yourself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Book of Urizen (excerpts)
Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific,
Self-clos'd, all-repelling: what demon
Hath form'd this abominable void,
This soul-shudd'ring vacuum? Some said
'It is Urizen.' But unknown, abstracted,
Brooding, secret, the dark power hid.
Times on times he divided and measur'd
Space by space in his ninefold darkness,
Unseen, unknown; changes appear'd
Like desolate mountains, rifted furious
By the black winds of perturbation.
For he strove in battles dire,
In unseen conflictions with shapes
Bred from his forsaken wilderness
Of beast, bird, fish, serpent and element,
Combustion, blast, vapour and cloud.
Dark, revolving in silent activity:
Unseen in tormenting passions:
An activity unknown and horrible,
A self-contemplating shadow,
In enormous labours occupied.
But Eternals beheld his vast forests;
Age on ages he lay, clos'd, unknown,
Brooding shut in the deep; all avoid
The petrific, abominable chaos.
His cold horrors silent, dark Urizen
Prepar'd; his ten thousands of thunders,
Rang'd in gloom'd array, stretch out across
The dread world; and the rolling of wheels,
As of swelling seas, sound in his clouds,
In his hills of stor'd snows, in his mountains
Of hail and ice; voices of terror
Are heard, like thunders of autumn
When the cloud blazes over the harvests
poem by William Blake
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The Book of Urizen: Chapter I
1. Lo, a shadow of horror is risen
In Eternity! Unknown, unprolific!
Self-closd, all-repelling: what Demon
Hath form'd this abominable void
This soul-shudd'ring vacuum?--Some said
"It is Urizen", But unknown, abstracted
Brooding secret, the dark power hid.
2. Times on times he divided, & measur'd
Space by space in his ninefold darkness
Unseen, unknown! changes appeard
In his desolate mountains rifted furious
By the black winds of perturbation
3. For he strove in battles dire
In unseen conflictions with shapes
Bred from his forsaken wilderness,
Of beast, bird, fish, serpent & element
Combustion, blast, vapour and cloud.
4. Dark revolving in silent activity:
Unseen in tormenting passions;
An activity unknown and horrible;
A self-contemplating shadow,
In enormous labours occupied
5. But Eternals beheld his vast forests
Age on ages he lay, clos'd, unknown
Brooding shut in the deep; all avoid
The petrific abominable chaos
6. His cold horrors silent, dark Urizen
Prepar'd: his ten thousands of thunders
Rang'd in gloom'd array stretch out across
The dread world, & the rolling of wheels
As of swelling seas, sound in his clouds
In his hills of stor'd snows, in his mountains
Of hail & ice; voices of terror,
Are heard, like thunders of autumn,
When the cloud blazes over the harvests
poem by William Blake
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
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17
17 seconds of compassion
17 seconds of peace
17 seconds to remember love is the energy
behind which all is created
17 seconds to remember all that is good
17 seconds to forget all your hurt and pain
17 seconds of faith
17 seconds to trust you again
17 seconds of radiance
17 seconds to send a prayer up
17 seconds is all you really need
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What I Have Not Ever Seen
what i have never seen
does not bother me, it is felt
and it gives me all the comfort
the stillness
and stability, it is like the hand
that holds my hand and gives me
warmth
during the harshness
of the rains
i have never seen the fingers
and the palms and the veins
but i have felt
the heat in the coldness of my
winter
sometimes there are those unseen
yet more real than what is visible
to the naked eye
i do nothing. i just believe.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Today's Empty Thoughts....
today
he is unable to focus upon a certain idea
it is a waterfall.
he likes to grab a droplet of rain
his hands are filled with holes
he decides to lay his body on the grass
focus his eyes upon a star at night
there is no star, his eyes are closed
there is this kind of suspended feeling
like a frozen river, a fish got stuck on ice
a dragonfly trapped upon the web of a spider
there is this feeling of: what do i really think?
not what i want, but what is in my mind
there is this desert where everything that you see is sand
no camel, no moon, no oasis, no date palms, not even the shadow of a sand dune
the sounds of sighs come
you hear your self breathing for emptiness
you pause, rethinking, what is this?
you go inside it, trying to find if there is anybody there
it is empty. Yourself is not even there.
It is so real that you now doubt if an illusion exists at all.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Unseen Friend 2
The unseen spirit ever walks by me
Neither in front of me nor at my back!
His concerns are genuine.
The unseen spirit often chuckles.
At times he sings chimes into my ears.
He leaves me not, a mischievous guy indeed!
There we see a blue river far
With banks vast and sandy
The unseen spirit and I walk towards it.
There I think of catching a fish
There are no fish in the river though.
There he becomes a fish for me!
Tell me - who are you?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Left Behind
How much does a shadow weight?
Ever present day by day
Silent ally, closest friend
Still beside me at day's end.
Shadows living without names
Candle light distorts and maims
Giving form to silent shapes
Saddening the figure gapes
Knowing full well we've a curse
secret kept in no man's purse
That one day all men must part
When rests still this beating heart.
And should I blow out the light
Would my shadow be alright?
poem by William Blake Beckett
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Anxiety of Fear
Though it only takes few seconds
It doesn’t make the burden in my heart
Less its weight
There’s always an unseen wall
That called fear
Fear of rejection
Fear of disappointment
Fear of out of control
Fear of unknown
Maybe it’s enough
Maybe it’s not enough
Maybe it’s should be enough
Maybe it’s never enough
Though I have confidence
Though I have lot experience
It doesn’t make my stomach not ache
Or my feet lighter
There’s always a cold feeling
That called anxiety
Anxiety of acceptance
Anxiety of failure
Anxiety of future
Anxiety of unreasonable
Maybe it’s right
Maybe it’s not right
Maybe it could be right
Maybe it won’t ever be right
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Night Call
In cosmic celestial stillness
infusing frozen moments
stretching
into eternities unknown.
Is felt faint pulse
of pristine primeval galaxies.
Gaze into galvanic compelling
emptiness of stirring dark starry sky.
Untouched
by industrial pollutants
muddying cobalt skyline.
Where
poisonous slime
sucks forth fevered souls.
Darkness
coal black plasmatic poetry
neutral celestial migratory friend.
Despoil egotistic
evil spanning choked horizons lit
eliminating illuminating star light.
Entwined two lovers
seduces souls.
Poetic elixir. Carry us.
Enchanted High Renaissance
rapture born sky sculpture.
Inspired life force infused
pure marble. No longer
alone aborted can we cry
tears to momentous mountains.
Upon pristine summit
during stillness
distilled vibrant pulsating night.
In esoteric stillness
of frozen moments
stretching
into eternities unknown.
Is felt rhythmic pulse
of primeval galaxies.
Gaze compelling emptiness
of beautified starry sky.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Unicorn 14
When you catch a glimpse of it,
in the sunlit glade,
among the high hills,
among the white-crested waves,
does it move?
or is it unmoving,
this graceful vision of it?
it seems unmoving, yet
faster than the mind moves;
ahead of all your senses;
even roaming wild and joyful
among the high hills,
its white mane flying free,
somehow it's still
within its movement,
within your stillness;
can you see the tracks of fish,
or the airy passage of the birds?
it's beyond movement, even beyond stillness;
and yet, you love it,
yearn for it, although it - because it
runs faster than the mind of man.
Is that its love?
poem by Michael Shepherd
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They lay like plaited bread in love…
Kneading those white buttocks
Back and forth, in greedy palms
Stretching over doughy flesh
He then holds her warm breasts
There rising indicates
The ovens warmth is intensifying
Moister starts to perspire!
Drip by drip, down, plaited hair.
Seconds are vacating minutes.
Minutes untangling hours…
Legs are made jelly…
And empty of all desires 'ostrigidity'.
They lay like plaited bread in love.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Stillness Of The Night
Midnight on the hill I heard the thunder fill
The stillness of the night
It hit me like a slap, youre never comin back
From the stillness of the night
It was never black or white, neither wrong or right
Like the shadow of a full moons light
I knew wed lost the track, when I heard the lightning crack
The stillness of the night
Chorus
In the stillness of the night
Thats when well make it right
We can stop the thunder till the light
In the stillness of the night
I know you think you hear, those voices in your ear
In the stillness of the night
But Ive tried to make it clear theres nothing left to fear
Just the stillness of the night
And if you listen hard you might find the reason for your fright
Just the wind is high tonight
And the danger we must face is the anger of this race
In the stillness of the night
Chorus
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgives The Past
Going back foot
he looked inside himself and felt a breeze
on empty stomach.
Mother-of-pearl,
he was a sand grain in the eye
of a storm.
He wanted to shut off all beliefs
to further the search of truth,
be happened,
and walked alone on the sand dunes
to meet the sun,
and smell the salt of tears,
aloft in sky.
In the stillness of a shadow
he forgives the past
and prepares himself
for the negation to create
a pause.
poem by Satish Verma
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Dream Some Little Dream
…afterwards I laid back down
and spread my palms down on the ground
it wasn’t long before I found
myself inside a little dream
I heard a sound and looked around
and saw them swimming in the stream
a horrid sight I turned my head
and let loose a silent scream
the fish you see were busy there
eating a piece of me
I shook it of and brushed my head
I watched a leaf fall to the ground
as busy brownie moved around
and called me names but made no sound
I felt a pressure push me down
like a magnet to the ground
the fish they splashed in their little stream
as I began to dream some little dream
poem by Maynard Hartman
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Your words
Near
The sound of your voice
The naked skin of your body
Still has that new baby smell
Your words flood the space
With love
I stare into that space
Rolling seconds back
Rolling seconds before
And back
Again
For the movement
Yes, I'm only yours.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Emptiness Comes
EMPTINESS COMES
Emptiness comes-
There is nothing to say
Nothing to write-
But Nothing is for me only nothing
It is not the goal and the meaning-
Egolessness belongs to saints of a certain kind
I am not a saint-
Emptiness disappears with the writing
Words and meanings come-
I suppose one will be empty forever
When one is alive
What can Emptiness give?
I have written against the Emptiness
And am less empty now for now-
Thank God I no longer feel empty now-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Meditation Poem 1 - Emptiness of the Mind
emptiness of the mind
a realm bigger than this head can hold
bigger than dead could hold
it is when you are absorbed in
the blossoming of a night flower
every second it scents time like heaven
emptiness of the mind
it is when your mind fills a huge boulder
like a soul, sprawled over the universe
taking in all with solid stoicism
a desire frozen by coldness
harder to break than rock
emptiness of the mind
it is when your mind cast a bigger mystery
than the black hole
so vast and empty you realise the zen of things
that there are things surviving on emptiness,
just being empty
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Sage Recollects After Meeting
He was a great man a strong
man, tireless in his fabled strength.
The greatest healer from a people
known for their wild men of healing.
It seemed a great sorrow
was upon him always
near about him manifest.
As if he looked into guilty,
human heart as if through a child.
Giving compassion
despite what he found within.
Though a great joy of expectation
always radiated his presence
shone in his far-seeing eyes.
No fever no withered limb
had power before him.
He took broken links
of sinful body, those rusted or lost.
None held a mystery.
Knowing original pattern of design
created it whole in an instants touch.
Yet it was rebellious mind he would address,
for divine will of an unknown God
prophetic future he would foretell.
Sealed doors were his to open
dead arise at his word
with greater life than life itself.
A mystery. The body,
the mind, a weight of sin.
Three he healed as one.
I have heard of many great men
but he rose above all I knew of.
He was touched of the unknown God.
Spoke truth, his words are
can never be buried, sleep
be covered fully by age’s dust.
Buried as great treasure in hidden places
by those who should till the field.
Light of truth shines through affixed seals.
Never will his echo fall into silence.
Speaking of his Apostles how
could they not be such,
when they walked for a moment
in present living likeness of God?
A sage remembers his first encounter with Jesus of Nazareth in the Galilee at the start of his ministry.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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