Spectral Images, Images of the Light
I am no more than a thought
spinning itself through god's mind
no more than a memory of what was
an experience of the present
a visionary glimpse into the future
I am no more than a spectral image
image of the light
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan

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Three Ghosts Of Christmas
There are three ghosts of Christmas,
which visit us each year.
One from the past,
one from the present
and one from the future.
They show us what our life was,
how it is now and how
if we do not change it will be.
The past
shows us our roots
of how we have become.
The present
shows us how we are,
a mirror image of ourselves,
that not so rosy image
we do not want to see.
The future
shows how we will eventually become,
wizen and unloved
by nearly everyone
with the exception of ourselves.
It gives us this glimpse
so that we can change it
if we really want to.
That decision is ours
and if we do
next year when
the three ghosts of Christmas come to call
the piper maybe playing
a different kind of tune.
20 November 2009
poem by David Harris

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Look Home
Retired thoughts enjoy their own delights,
As beauty doth in self-beholding eye ;
Man's mind a mirror is of heavenly sights,
A brief wherein all marvels summed lie,
Of fairest forms and sweetest shapes the store,
Most graceful all, yet thought may grace them more.
The mind a creature is, yet can create,
To nature's patterns adding higher skill ;
Of finest works with better could the state
If force of wit had equal power of will.
Device of man in working hath no end,
What thought can think, another thought can mend.
Man's soul of endless beauty image is,
Drawn by the work of endless skill and might ;
This skillful might gave many sparks of bliss
And, to discern this bliss, a native light ;
To frame God's image as his worths required
His might, his skill, his word and will conspired.
All that he had his image should present,
All that it should present it could afford,
To that he could afford his will was bent,
His will was followed with performing word.
Let this suffice, by this conceive the rest,
He should, he could, he would, he did, the best.
poem by Robert Southwell

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The Image
Written by: richard marx & fee waybill
Hope you dont believe a word
Of all the things I know youve heard about me
Really just a pack of ies
You see the truth before your eyes around me
Hard to keep it straight
The real from the ruse
Probably way too late
What can I do, but its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Would it be too much to ask
That you could just gvie me the chance to prove it
Or would it only be a waste of time
To try to make you change your mind and use it
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
song performed by by Richard Marx

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Time and Experience
I found the past in my present
I built the future on my past
I found the gift of today
When I thought about what
The future has to offer
Where is the wisdom in experience
If there is no folly in wisdom
What's the real meaning of death
If our spirits live forever
Times never change
But circumstances do
I'll let mystery play with the future
Surprises couple with the present
And experience mourn the past
Because sun always rises from the east
And each day always comes to an end
Experience is not chained to wisdom
Nor is folly tied to bad results
But to the circumstances that burden
Our past, present and future because
Time is always anxious for the future
Experience loves the present
And wisdom never divorces the past
poem by Benaiah Sondashi

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An Image Springs to Mind
An image springs to mind:
A child, with childish innocence
upon the shores of life, inclined
to play, without pretence
or mask. Or, if a mask there be,
it still retains a quality
allowing all with empathy to penetrate behind.
An image springs to mind:
So freely see the child dispense
the sifting sand, so unrefined,
with slight apparent sense.
It takes some perspicacity
to see each grain is memory -
dispersed or treasured as may be - quicksilverly defined.
An image springs to mind:
The shifting sands are implements
used differently by different blind
for good or ill intents immense.
Some knowledge is acquired for free,
transmitted some, instinctively,
the balance, finely tuned as we progress or slip behind.
An image springs to mind:
The grain in youth packed tight and dense
Age often loosens, cannot bind, -
how great the difference!
If we could meet mortality
with every thought recorded, we
could help those after us to see the answers we can’t find.
An image springs to mind:
These answers must, in self defence,
be hid from those who’d grind Mankind,
enslaving innocence.
Both Time and Knowledge thus should be
weaved secret in Life’s mystery
from here until eternity - or so it seems designed...
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Sleep
I can't describe the feeling when
I'm in my bed asleep and then
I wake up with a vision blurred
And all my efforts are detered
To reconstruct this image lost
There're certain things my mind must do
and even though they're very few
The image glistens like a gem
Repairing is not one of them
So I'm awake though in my mind
The image thats so unrefined
is calling to me from the deep
and tempting me to fall asleep
song performed by by Phish

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A moment passed
A moment passed
that I'll never get back
a glimpse into something I knew
a glimpse into something
I felt to be real
A song, a lyric
an image
taking me in to something deep
inside of a dream
or a fantasy or a partial memory
a moment that reminded me
that I'm alive
a theme song to my life
then it was quiet again
poem by Sara Winters

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The age of image.
The people who know you
Are the canvas on which
Your image, good or bad,
Is drawn rightly or not.
Mind! The image you built
Will die with the canvas
When it’s torn or worn out.
Yet, each one wants an image.
Don't we desire leaving
A child for our copy,
which will not last long though?
02.01.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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True revolutionaries are like God - they create the world in their own image. Our awesome responsibility to ourselves, to our children, and to the future is to create ourselves in the image of goodness, because the future depends on the nobility of our imaginings.
quote by Barbara Grizzuti Harrison

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Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Future
Philosophers say
Is an illusion
For each second that is in the coming
Is uncertain
Hazy and a mirage
Past is lost
And it is spilt milk
Nothing can be done
With the past
Each previous second is as past
As the previous century
They suggest
For keeping up with the pace of time
It would be wise
Not to dream of the future
And not to lament on the past
Enjoy the present
It is easier said than done
We keep busy thinking
Either about the future
Or keep grumbling with the past
Memory and acquired experience
Will not allow us
To thoughtfully digest
Events occurring at the present
It is also not debatable
The quality of the present second
Depends on
The quality of the efforts
Made in the previous second
Where we are and
What we are
All because of our
Struggle or otherwise
In the past
Past experience and
Our present standing
Take us where we will be tomorrow
It will not be unwise
To a dream a future
Matching our skills
And the present position
We often dwell in a future
That is not achievable
With our present standing
And our capabilities
Unrealized future
Makes us feel sad
Be ever be in touch future
As the present second only
Manifests itself as a future
Know what you do
Know what you have as means
To take you into
The dreamt future
A colourful future is not an impossible realm
To be scaled
If you take seriously the means
To be there
Your present actions
Are executed only
To be sure that
You are
There in that wonder tomorrow
That dream keeps you
Motivated in going ahead
That dream keeps you
On the path of learning
That dream keeps you
Innovating new solutions
That dream keeps you
Enjoy what you do
That dream keeps you
Enthused in living
That dream keeps you
Looking for opportunities for improvement
Be in touch with dream ever
And
Be ever enthused to be in touch with future
Though philosophically non-existent
Which only helps you realize your potential
poem by Bashyam Narayanan

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The Secret of Time and its Passage
Memory defeats passage of time
Hurts and pains enliven passed times and events
In the form of aches, and rarely are enlivened pleasant experiences had;
Anxiety, fear, apprehension constitute the future;
Past and future are thought forms
In the present continuous,
Arising out of earlier experiences,
And doubts and imaginations about the imminent,
Are mere mental projections
In the present;
The present continuously changes
Every one tenth of a second
As a pulse series of awareness
Replacing past dissolving into future;
Events took place and the ones we imagine may happen
Respectively create memory,
And doubts, fears and expectations;
Thus the egoistic mind drawing us into the past or future
And seldom allowing us to live in the present
And enjoy current bliss, peace and silence
Creating whirlpool of time and its passage
Never lets us transcend the notion of time
And its passage;
But the reality is,
Present continuous being
One-tenth of a second,
The past over and the future yet to dawn;
Realization of this secret of
Passage of time, past, present and future
As mere thought forms in the present,
Sets in us peace, bliss and quietude
And we face life cheerfully
Transcending mental suggestions
And enjoy the present in calmness,
Peace, bliss, silence, in unoccupied awareness
As contented and content-free state of mind
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam

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Namaste
A butterfly floats on the breeze of a sun lit day
As i feel this reality gently fade away
Riding on a thought to see where it's from
Gliding through a memory of a time yet to come
Smoke paints the air swirling images through my mind
Like a whirlpool spin beginning to unwind
And i stand at the edge cautiously awaiting
As time slips by
Carefully navigating by the stars in the sky
And i sit and i think to myself
And on the horizon the sun light begins to climb
And it seems like it's been so long since he shined
But i'm sure it was only yesterday
Namaste
A cold chill of fear cut through me
I felt my heart contract
To my mind i brought the image of light
And i expanded out of it
My fear was just a shadow
And then a voice spoke in my head
And she said dark is not the opposite of light
It's the absence of light
And i thought to myself
She knows what she's talking about
And for a moment i know
What it was all about
song performed by by Beastie Boys

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My thoughts will be taken up with the future or the past, with what is to come or what has been. Of the present there is necessarily no image.
quote by William Godwin

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I think that you have to present an image that is... true to you, and... the way you would like to be perceived, so I think that through the years I've worked really hard at trying to create an image that is true to me.
quote by Kristanna Loken

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Mystery Of Word Divine. by Ray Subrata
Thought feeling and sense,
Seek entrance.
With image and idea divine.
Through word, they reflect and shine.
The greater the Being is agile,
The brighter the words it trails
On stations of mind’s cultivation
Words get empowered with motion.
Here it elevates the mind, there it clouds
Here it spreads ardor, there joy it alouds.
It takes its journey from the mind’s periodic table,
And exposes, image and pictures, like a television cable.
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray

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Your Image
In my madness
Transformed agonies
Existential leanings
Yourself because of me
I hold your image
In my eyes
Like after death
The snake is burnt
As he carries
The image of his slayer
In my own circles
Like a mirror in palm
While you do your eyes
A reflection always
As you shatter me
Into dust
But like the snake
Ye shall burn me
To escape thy image
And by then
Ye shall see thine image
In thy soul
27/2/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan

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As with sound, images are subjective. You and I may not see the same color red as red, but we will probably agree that the image on the screen is a digital image or film image, based on contrast, bit depth, and refresh rate.
quote by John Dykstra

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Give Me Image
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
How else can it be expected,
I keep my pretensions alive and thriving?
Do not rid from me my freedom,
To exist living for images I see fit to project.
I can not bare the acceptance of the reality...
Thrown in my face I am suppose to respect!
Give me image!
Do not strip me of my need,
To seek quality delusions to please, eat and feed.
Give me image.
So that I may feel free,
To live in the midst of unending fantasies.
And aspects of threatening truth...
Disturbs my mentality!
As I witness it pursue the awakening of masses.
Pass me my rose colored glasses, please!
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
Let those images forever in my mind,
Find within me reason to exist!
Give me image.
And enough...
Enough of this,
Self righteous ambiguity.
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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The Hunter's Even-Song
THE plain with still and wand'ring feet,
And gun full-charged, I tread,
And hov'ring see thine image sweet,
Thine image dear, o'er head.
In gentle silence thou dost fare
Through field and valley dear;
But doth my fleeting image ne'er
To thy mind's eye appear?
His image, who, by grief oppress'd,
Roams through the world forlorn,
And wanders on from east to west,
Because from thee he's torn?
When I would think of none but thee,
Mine eyes the moon survey;
A calm repose then steals o'er me,
But how, 'twere hard to say.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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Image building.
I’m known for different reasons
In different circles I lived in.
I’m known for different things
In different ages I went through.
The image built in a circle
Is unknown to other circles.
The image built in one age
Is unheard of in other ages.
Each image is left to die
When I shifted circles and ages.
Image building is a futile
Exercise we’re happy to do.
13.10.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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