Still in Search
Returning
to the well
searching
for substance.
This vessel is
half full,
another day
passes,
still in
search.
poem by Heather Burns
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In Search Of A Man
I am searching a man
I am in search of a man
And here there is no man.
Village town state
Land water sky
I search out and out
and not found.
Found the dog the cow
The crow the camel
The tiger the snake
No man said Jackal.
I am still searching
Still searching seaching.
I am in search of a man
I am searching a man.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Love
Love,
Is like the wind,
It passes by,
And leaves nothing,
Behind,
Just passes through,
My heart,
My soul,
And never let me,
Enjoy the feeling,
The sensation,
Of being cared for,
By someone,
Who really loves me.
Why is my life,
So desperate always?
Why is love,
Treating me,
So unkindly?
I look forever,
I search forever,
Look everywhere,
Search everywhere,
And all I end,
Up with is,
A love that,
Never lasts long.
My heart is a,
Heart of pain.
It has never,
Been able to love,
Someone longer,
Than it wants to.
I always love,
But does,
That person love me?
The answers,
To my questions,
Are always,
Painful,
And different to,
Take into term.
Am I suppose,
To search,
The rest of,
My lonely life?
Where will I go?
Where will I search?
I am tired,
Of searching,
And wondering,
Day by day.
Why must my heart,
Be all pain,
And none of love?
poem by Heather Noble
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Searching
I've been in search for a while now.
Although for what Im not quite sure.
I belive I want the answer to my troubles.
And the strength to move on.
I wish I could put things in the past where they belong.
But the search goes on and on.
Im trying to find what Im searching for.
But what am I searching for.
I dont quite know.
I've been searching for a long time.
But just what am I searching for?
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Restrict the wants to things in hand
The milk that is not full in a vessel
Can be full in an exact vessel
And even spill over from a smaller one.
Your want is the vessel and things, the milk.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Half Blooded Brothers
You my blood half or full were brothers, regardless of what you do to each other, you my brother half or full, .
We keep each other good, you my brother half or full. We take care of each other, because we brothers half or full.
Imma stop trippin, it'll take a while, because im use to bullshittin and prickin, but you my brother half or full.
Stick together we will stay alive, all the bullshit I said, I've been a asshole, shit who hasn't, but you my brother half or full and I guess that's what family does.
Arguments and verbal brutality towards one another is what we do, because we will always be brothers half or full. Blood half or full, it doesn't matter, because we are brothers till the end of time, your my brother half or full.
poem by Arthur V. Miller III
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The yin yang moon
Hung upon the sky
Weaves the web of stars
Down the water glide
A half created vessel I am - they say
Measuring sand in my body grain
Flat forehead upward hope sunk unsung
I’ll starve my eyes on Milky waves
Glaring at those lines divine
No I will not be a half created vessel
Lying under the bags of clouds
No I will not be a half created vessel
I’ll be a mermaid of the sky
Embedding the last floating cry
Inspired by ‘Hombre Ante el Infinito’ (Man Contemplating Infinity)
a painting by Rufino Tamayo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Vessel Of Our Salvation
Each day we search for things
that within them happiness we hope to find.
Relentlessly we search from dawn to dusk,
exploring each avenue that is presented to us,
always hoping to find the vessel of salvation
that will give us peace of mind.
Our existence is no more than a spec in time,
and by our searching
contentment is what we are looking for,
to find the door that leads to it
and give us inner peace evermore.
16 May 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half of Google's revenue comes from selling text-based ads that are placed near search results and are related to the topic of the search. Another half of its revenues come from licensing its search technology to companies like Yahoo.
quote by Eric Schmidt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty As The Air
A life of substance, is always one that is desired.
But what of the substance you speak of?
How do you define it?
For ones man's junk is another man's treasure.
Substance is what we make of it.
Leading an interesting life in the gallows, could be considered a life of substance if that is what he desires.
Are you trying say he is saying pity me I have not lived an interesting life, one full of life changing, learning, and ever different experiences?
Do go on, as we investigate the brain.
Put it under some light.
What is really their?
Hmm, I can only wonder.
Maybe it is something empty as the air.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Serching
Searching.
In vain I search but I search on,
Along life`s lonely corridor,
Seeking, seeking ever seeking,
Yet knowing not for what I`m searching,
But eagerly await each morrow,
Praying it will end this sorrow,
This sorrow I try so hard to hide
The tears that will not be denied,
The past is past, the joy, the pain,
I cannot live the past again,
But through the bitter mist must I
Search on.
poem by Archie Langford
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Dead Things Thumb And Forefinger As They Probe
dead things thumb and forefinger as they probe
without feeling the origin of the
final event, I watch clinically
the unstaring face for the first half breath
proof of the coming fire. death things thumb and
forefinger probe the beginnings of the
search for life. from the beginning the search
is for signs. of fire life and the pot of
fire that precedes the dead. searching the hand
sowing desire dying beginning the
search for signs. there is no escaping
now in silence a space is won. a sign
is found. fire fills the soft walled room. tide flows
and I walk in the fire. the staff of life
is full and free. do not die before me
Jan 18.1974
poem by Umashankar Manthravadi
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Passes away
Passes away
Everything passes away
The night the star
The day the fire
Everything everything.
I remained as it is
Where it is
Here as a fairy tale.
Death passes away
Birth passes away
And passes away
Everything passes away.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Frantic Search
The Eternal Search
The Search Is On! The Search Is On!
Searching For The World Free From Fear
Searching For People Free From Greed
Searching For The God Who Went Missing
World Looks Small So Are The Minds
Person To Person No Rapport Exists
Suspecting Each Other Even In Sleep
Caring For Others No More A Desire
Craving For Comforts Order Of The Day
Ruthless Shortcuts In Clearing The way
Money And Status Passion For The Masses
Posh And Prestige Symbol For Power
Goons Are The Rulers! Gone Are The Morals
Twisting The Laws To Fill Their Coffers
Suppressing Voice Of Those Remain Sincere
Poisoning The Minds By Fuelling Hatred
Nature Losing Tranquility Causing Season's Hostility
Global Warming On The Rise Sounding Death Bells Causing Fear
Human Dwellings Spreading Fast By Felling Forests With No Foresight
Water Sources Drying Fast As Lakes And Rivers Remain Things Of Past
Warning Bells Are Unheeded Despite Impacts Highlighted
Damage Controls Not In Sight As Vested People Seal Them Tight
Paper Tigers On The Prowl But Actions Remain Always Nil
In Quest Of Ruling One Another Plans Are Drawn For Hell Together
The Search Is On! The Search Is On!
Searching For The World With Protected Nature
Searching For The World Without Race For Arms
Searching For The World Where Each one Gets Alms
Searching For The World Where Barriers Are Surpassed
Searching For The World Where Boundaries Are Withdrawn
Searching For The World Where People Are Free From Lust & Greed
Searching For The World Where God Is Seen In Every Human
poem by Somanathan Iyer
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The Story Of A Search For A Poem
A man went in search of a Poem
He searched everywhere he walked
He searched inside himself
He searched inside the poems of others
He searched and searched -
And what came to him were fragments of many poems
And he thought perhaps that they themselves were the poem
But they refused to be satisfied with themselves-
So he searched for a way to put them together-
But in searching came upon more fragments
With each new fragment totally re-ordering those that had gone before-
So he thought ‘I went looking for one poem but found many
Perhaps there are only many poems’
And he began to write them down
And felt at times that he had found many poems
But always too he knew he had not found the one-
So he searched and searched again
And could not find the Poem-
He is still searching
And does not know where the poem is
Sometimes he thinks it is hidden in the many already written
But he does not have the eye to discern it the heart to feel it-
He now is surrounded by poems-
They are everywhere-
But he still cannot find the One Poem which is the Poem for him
The Poem which is his Poem and his Poem alone-
He says he is still searching and will search to the end of his days
But he is old now and soon may be too weak to search
And so the Poem he seeks the one he has longed for all his life
May never be found
Though he goes on searching still.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Y' In Your Name?
The divining rod which is searching for water
Looks like a Y if you remember.
With your Y in all your life you will be a searcher,
Going on with an open mind for something newer.
Some of you will search for some new wisdom,
Some just for a newer flower blossom,
Big or small search all brings something new,
Even if you just search constantly for your keys, a tool or a screw.
If you choose to search for spiritual wisdom,
Your life can change for an everlasting stardom.
So, choose wisely how to use your Y,
Search for something useful, not just asking aimlessly, why?
poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Vessel
The Vessel was a thing of clay.
the sort you use, then throw away.
It was worth little, of itself,
but that vessel was filled with Love.
It poured out Love upon the Living
Free and selfless was its giving.
When at last the clay was dry,
it was the vessels time to die.
It shattered on the sands of time,
now half a lifetime gone from mine.
The vessel was my Dad you see-
and by his gifts I was set free.
I wept the day he met his end-
will I ever see his like again?
God willing on a higher plane
I'll get to call again his name.,
but if my journey ends in dust,
he taught me how as all men must.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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An Illusion
A day will come
A dream will come true
And I shall traverse upon the hillocks
Searching for you.
I am waiting to see you
I am yearning to feel you
And we shall live in the valley
Knowing each other.
These hillocks are hard and high
My feet are fatigued and worn out
And someone is calling me back
Fearing lest I should collapse.
A year passes off
An army of nightmares chases me
And I know the perils of a search futile
Living a life flattened.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Encountering A Black Memory
Encountering one dark black memory,
As the Wind eternally whispers to me.
In another time, at this special place,
We were dressed in leather and lace.
Many times I have made my way back,
Searching for a memory turned black.
In search of our encounter by chance,
Where by firelight we once did dance.
By moon’s light with fire burning dim,
In the refreshing water we would swim.
A time I wished would be without end,
Chilled we held each other skin-to-skin.
From the chilling water to the fireside.
Blanket wrapped one another we eyed.
Without uttering speech our eyes spoke,
As we kindled love’s fire without smoke.
Until morning our spirits became as one,
When back to your mate you had to run.
Time did pass and the years they did go,
The view seen here now I hardly know.
All night long, returning with the dew,
I send forth my spirit searching for you.
poem by Joseph Blitch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken
I'm A Lonely Road Of
Broken Dreams
Its A Boulevard That
I'm Searching For
These Stars Are All
So Dull
Its The Moon That I'm
Searching For
Happiness Is So Angry
At Me
Its Life That I'm
Searching For
There Is A Crowd
Around Me At All Times
Its a Friend That I'm
Searching For
My Life Is Just Like
Path
Its A Destination That
I'm Searching For
Don't Know What Is It
That I've Lost
May Be Its 'ME' That
I'm Searching For! !
poem by Vizard Dhawan
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Man Sees The Remainder In Woman
A woman at twenty is the cup full,
In forty the cup half full, not half empty
And in sixty a quarter full to men,
Who see in women only the remainder.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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