A walk in Manhattan
Faces that float in rivers of people I meet; I see and pass
Throngs thrust through bustling city, buzzing noise and broken roar
Faces that come and go; faces I see and lose in windows glass
All portraits new I will never see again; I have never seen before
Strangers of all ages and all human specimans encounter my pace
The comers and the goers, marches of face to face
Parades of face after face in string of dazzling colors ware
An endless human streams too busy world to stop and stare
An ant hill city of maddening crowd’s ignoble strife
With sober ambitions without boundaries into all four winds to stray
Along cool sequestered decorum of life
All morals bent with insentient apathy out of way
People in rows, crowds in queues, clans in knots
The famous the anonymous, the have and the have not
Diamonds and ashes in street ashrays
while corners vendors and nooks players reciting their pray
Have you ever imagined how much you can tell
In the instantaneous encounter of human eyes
In ants path where no words are exchanged like soundless tale
You have the brief glimpse of a moment to pierce one's fragile disguise
Hurry, capture, net the rushing secrets of joy, agony and indifferent fatigue
Feeling crying, characters shining from all garments, styles and hidden places
A strode of strives and struggles in all passing faces
Walking, rushing ecstasy of success and the scare of failure and critic
On brandished high heels fashion ladies treat
With the rhythm of sculptured legs on stone walk beat
Tall on burnished hooves astute lawyers; vain confidence that the world fate
Is in their crocodiles leather-ed suitcase encapsulate
In this worlds of stage a middle age woman passes upon whom I gaze
The measures she takes to hide her waning beauty leave me amaze
She is all wrapped in colorful deceit and counterfeit labors
That so immodesty displays nature’s gone favors
With its fallacious arguments of colors and elaborate cloth
Is to the senses cunning counterfeit and cynic loath
Rushing people in elongated avenues; restless streets flocks
I froze for a moment in trepidation and fear of thee
In the meeting of our eyes lock in streets shaded oaks
I can tell, you can tell, as much, so much of me
copy rights 2010
Related quotes
Faces
People that I meet and pass
In the city's broken roar,
Faces that I lose so soon
And have never found before,
Do you know how much you tell
In the meeting of our eyes,
How ashamed I am, and sad
To have pierced your poor disguise?
Secrets rushing without sound
Crying from your hiding places --
Let me go, I cannot bear
The sorrow of the passing faces.
-- People in the restless street,
Can it be, oh can it be
In the meeting of our eyes
That you know as much of me?
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ah, past middle age woman upon whom I gaze
Ah, past middle age woman upon whom I gaze
The measures you take to hide your waning beauty leave me amaze
You are all wrapped in colorful deceit and counterfeit labors
That so immodesty displays nature’s gone favors
With its fallacious arguments of colors and elaborate cloth
Is to the senses cunning counterfeit and cynic loath
This which your self pity practices to delete
The cruel years accumulated horrors
Constraining time to mitigate its rigors
And this oblivion and age defeat
Oh old sunken brittle woman in vain you carry such vanity
Your mask of musk is playing havoc and delirium with your own sanity
Your efforts of concealing what time jaws is peeling and revealing
Is like to play with the devil a hypocritical dealing
As any mortal being you in the path to be a cadaver, ashes, shadows ghosts
The time of your prime irreversibly forever forgotten and lost
And yet you old beauty do not regard these lines
As demon devouring fierce lions
Revealing in their occludent guile
In every stanza, strength and force
In every line a binding spell and leading course
For such is their suppleness of style
But remember this copy that is your prime semblance
Was by tenderness and fortitude of your past beauty inspired
Whereon a clumsy hand ambitiously conspired
To give your pains and suppressed emotions an utterance.
And do not blame these lines as conspirators with time
For robbing you out of your beauty and prime
Neither send me any comments on my verse
I have this human weakness in me of adverse
To judge wise those who sing my praise
Especially in the absence of the wit
That sinks what seemingly it tries to raise
Copy rights 2010
A book bazaar
I was in Manhattan in a book bazaar with lots of bargains, none interested me.
I kept my eyes wandering around not really knowing where to look,
At the strolling people or at the static street shelves books
It is just like being in a Zoo
Here too you do not know who
You may meet or see when passing thru
An anchor women from a famous channel
She looked so much prettier down the street
In a stealthy walk trying to hide her notoriety
I could not believe how they can do such a budged make up
In a channel with such fame fashion and prestige
In the screen she looked more like total disaster and fatigue
Through all the colors which the sun bestows
And among every character of form and face,
The Swede, the Russian mixed with Albanian
The Frenchman and the Spaniard from the remote south
The Indian; Moors, Malays and their neighbors
The Tartar and the Chinese, none would miss the event
All humans gathered around the scent
Even the African Ladies in white muslin gown
Followed what the winds carried for miles on
Oh what a blanket of colors what a blank confusion
True epitome of what the mighty city is herself,
To thousands upon thousands of her sons,
Living amid the same perpetual whirl of
Trivial objects, melted and reduced
To one identity, by differences
That have no laws, no meanings, and no conclusion
Tossing and dodging in symbols of eternity,
Of first, and last, of midst,
And the one without end
Like anthill on the plain
Of too busy world before you will flow
Endless stream of human ants and moving things
Your everyday appearance, as it strikes
With wonder heightened, or sublimed by awe
Or vexed by internal gnaw
Strangers of all ages encounter your pace
The quick dance of colors, lights, and forms
The deafening din the broken roar
The comers and the goers; face to face
Face after face; the string of dazzling wares
Shop after shop, with symbols, blazoned names
And all the tradesman’s overhead:
For instance here, fronts of houses, like title-page,
With letters inscribed from top to toe,
Stationed above the door, like guardian saints;
There the instance of allegoric shapes, female and male,
Or physiognomies of real men,
Land warriors, kings, or admiral of the sea,
The attractive head of nowadays current celebrity
Some quack-doctor, famous in his day
The brag lines of a fortune teller
A palm reader or other benefactors of any sort
Enough, the mighty concourse I surveyed
With no other thinking
Just take the right turn into a quiet street
Then the magnificent cathedral in fifth avenue
The images at its lofty wall never lose their magnetic power
Always enthralling the eyes of pedestrian
But on its back stairs among hidden nooks
A homeless find shelter a piece of dry bread with of soup
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved
A dark chilly dreary morning
It is a dark chilly dreary morning
Sun delayed over city with gray sky in mourning
The throng of comers and goers in my face flits and fleets
And will not let me be
I walk passing eave-drops lofty fall
And the yellow vapors choke
The great city subway sounding wide
The day comes suddenly at last- A dull red ball
Wrapped in drifts of lurid smoke
On the misty East river tide
I loath the city of solitude in squares and in streets
And the faces of stutters that one meets
Empty aloof hearts arrogant introvert souls with no love for me
I crave to crawl, to crouch to creep
Into some under street cafe’ deep
And there to weep and weep and weep
My whole soul out for you in silent grief
copy rights 2010
You, Your Face and Your Many Faces
you and your face
you and your many faces
i never clarify your other face
because you build a siege
with your many faces
your many faces have a heart of liar
little facet of your tricky mind
you and your many faces
your face not to be someone's follower
your face to be the queen of yourself
you and your face
you don't need to show your inner face
your many faces will play the pace
and no one resist your easily fake face
your face and your many faces
if those two are not good enough
to get me
what will you take to become your face?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Path Of Mirrors
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
Their eyes are lost, their faces fixed like stone
They walk behind the mirrors and here they shall stay
You walk with other souls liveng, breathing, yet for them they are alone
You walk through the hall way down the path of glass
You watch as they walk on into eternity, into the dark
They walk there behind the glass,
People around you going through leaving their mark.
They walk past your reflection as if you never saw
They walk through time as if time weren’t there
They know you would never aproach them
They know you would never dare.
They walk through the glass and look straight ahead,
They know nothing lies ahead, yet they know they can not turn back,
So they walk into nothing instead,
Passing you so all you see is their back.
You pause infront of the glass looking looking past,
You know that you shall not join them you know it is not your fate
You think about the footsteps you take, wondering which shall be your last,
You walk on again only thinking of their fate
Their faces emotionless the souls so cold,
You think of how you own skin feels, so warm,
You watch as the move like action figures made from a mold,
All the same, all waiting out the storm
The storm of life, the storm of death,
You walk along side them as they walk past everyone,
They watch ahead never turning, never looking above,
They turn to noone.
You walk along beside them as they take no notice to lifes dance,
They only walk past, walk through the mirrors of fate,
Kepping one great stance,
You watch people finding their fate.
Their faces so still, alone in the world, without hope
You watch them walk on, you watch them pass
You see their unmoving faces, as they walk up the endless slope
They walk along, behind the glass.
You turn to watch as their souls move on,
You reach out your hand to touch the glass,
Only to feel the glass is gone,
You watch as your hand passes through the glass.
As you hand melts through one by one the spirits turn,
One takes your hand and pulls your arm through,
More spirits feel your presence and more turn,
They watch as you melt through.
You watch your world leave as you leave it,
You have found you fate and not you are here along with them,
They walk on as you pull your body through, leaving behind the sweater of life you knit,
You have come and joined them.
You look back at the mirror to look at your face,
And you see your eyes becoming lost,
As you enter their race,
The race that shall never end, the race through eternity, for now you are lost
You skin feels so cold you face feels so hard,
You walk with them, as one
As you emotions turn hard,
In true time you are done.
You walk with them, walk alone
They walk so close to you, yet so far away
As everything becomes an endless drone,
For now you are here to stay.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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New York's Dilemma
Out on the streets of New York,
The first appearance of morning,
A preliminary warning
That a new day has begun
While my expectations rise high
As numbers filter through my mind,
Avenues and streets become a network
When studios and skyscrapers somehow
Coincide to take me anywhere
When my heart desires...
Weary faces passing through
The cross-road of the world,
Holding frozen thoughts and muted words,
In the very heart of Times Square,
Some looking happy or tired,
These faces are clear signs
And must be read quickly
To learn their story hidden behind
Or absolve their tiredness or vitality...
I hold my head down
So as not to give myself away,
Relieved to be among strangers
Who do not understand-so readily,
The natural disturbance
Of my presence-or the glance
That permits no admittance...
Practical concerns I put off for a while
For this is the right place
Though I have arrived a bit late
To capture the original chance
To be myself at a glance...
Here-is no more crowded
Than anywhere else
When the greatest pressure
Is a throng of questions
That elbow me alone in a room,
Watching my every move
As anyone I ever knew
Was constantly demanding:
'What do you do? '...
Here I am, always rushing and late
And always in the same place,
Frozen in time and space,
Boundaries I can no longer delineate
When I am daily struggling with my fate...
This is the dilemma of New York,
Honestly expressed my dear folks,
The reality everyday I must face...
©All Rights Reserved-2011
poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friends With Unseen Faces
'This is dedicated to Suzanne, Melvina, Alison and Francesca. My friends with unseen faces.'
For years my work lay hidden.
Gathering dust on my shelf.
Then came a chance encounter.
From a past half forgotten.
A voice across the internet.
A conversation was taken.
An introduction was made.
A new voice who sounded my praise.
Soon there was another and another.
From different parts of the world.
Four ladies who have helped me.
To find myself again.
They are strangers, but friends.
Kindred souls whom I’d never recognise.
If I passed them on the street.
Their words kind and supportive.
Have helped me to my feet.
After a drought of words.
They have rekindled an old flame.
Made me see again.
That my words can bring joy.
Again and again and again.
So to my friends with unseen faces.
A little gift from afar.
Hope you enjoy my praises.
As much as I enjoy yours..
We may never meet face to face.
Unless fate decrees it so.
But just remember wherever you wander.
You have a friend out there.
Who’s face you do not know.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faces In The Street
They lie, the men who tell us in a loud decisive tone
That want is here a stranger, and that misery's unknown;
For where the nearest suburb and the city proper meet
My window-sill is level with the faces in the street --
Drifting past, drifting past,
To the beat of weary feet --
While I sorrow for the owners of those faces in the street.
And cause I have to sorrow, in a land so young and fair,
To see upon those faces stamped the marks of Want and Care;
I look in vain for traces of the fresh and fair and sweet
In sallow, sunken faces that are drifting through the street --
Drifting on, drifting on,
To the scrape of restless feet;
I can sorrow for the owners of the faces in the street.
In hours before the dawning dims the starlight in the sky
The wan and weary faces first begin to trickle by,
Increasing as the moments hurry on with morning feet,
Till like a pallid river flow the faces in the street --
Flowing in, flowing in,
To the beat of hurried feet --
Ah! I sorrow for the owners of those faces in the street.
The human river dwindles when 'tis past the hour of eight,
Its waves go flowing faster in the fear of being late;
But slowly drag the moments, whilst beneath the dust and heat
The city grinds the owners of the faces in the street --
Grinding body, grinding soul,
Yielding scarce enough to eat --
Oh! I sorrow for the owners of the faces in the street.
And then the only faces till the sun is sinking down
Are those of outside toilers and the idlers of the town,
Save here and there a face that seems a stranger in the street,
Tells of the city's unemployed upon his weary beat --
Drifting round, drifting round,
To the tread of listless feet --
Ah! My heart aches for the owner of that sad face in the street.
And when the hours on lagging feet have slowly dragged away,
And sickly yellow gaslights rise to mock the going day,
Then flowing past my window like a tide in its retreat,
Again I see the pallid stream of faces in the street --
Ebbing out, ebbing out,
To the drag of tired feet,
While my heart is aching dumbly for the faces in the street.
And now all blurred and smirched with vice the day's sad pages end,
For while the short `large hours' toward the longer `small hours' trend,
With smiles that mock the wearer, and with words that half entreat,
Delilah pleads for custom at the corner of the street --
Sinking down, sinking down,
Battered wreck by tempests beat --
A dreadful, thankless trade is hers, that Woman of the Street.
But, ah! to dreader things than these our fair young city comes,
For in its heart are growing thick the filthy dens and slums,
Where human forms shall rot away in sties for swine unmeet,
And ghostly faces shall be seen unfit for any street --
Rotting out, rotting out,
For the lack of air and meat --
In dens of vice and horror that are hidden from the street.
I wonder would the apathy of wealthy men endure
Were all their windows level with the faces of the Poor?
Ah! Mammon's slaves, your knees shall knock, your hearts in terror beat,
When God demands a reason for the sorrows of the street,
The wrong things and the bad things
And the sad things that we meet
In the filthy lane and alley, and the cruel, heartless street.
I left the dreadful corner where the steps are never still,
And sought another window overlooking gorge and hill;
But when the night came dreary with the driving rain and sleet,
They haunted me -- the shadows of those faces in the street,
Flitting by, flitting by,
Flitting by with noiseless feet,
And with cheeks but little paler than the real ones in the street.
Once I cried: `Oh, God Almighty! if Thy might doth still endure,
Now show me in a vision for the wrongs of Earth a cure.'
And, lo! with shops all shuttered I beheld a city's street,
And in the warning distance heard the tramp of many feet,
Coming near, coming near,
To a drum's dull distant beat,
And soon I saw the army that was marching down the street.
Then, like a swollen river that has broken bank and wall,
The human flood came pouring with the red flags over all,
And kindled eyes all blazing bright with revolution's heat,
And flashing swords reflecting rigid faces in the street.
Pouring on, pouring on,
To a drum's loud threatening beat,
And the war-hymns and the cheering of the people in the street.
And so it must be while the world goes rolling round its course,
The warning pen shall write in vain, the warning voice grow hoarse,
But not until a city feels Red Revolution's feet
Shall its sad people miss awhile the terrors of the street --
The dreadful everlasting strife
For scarcely clothes and meat
In that pent track of living death -- the city's cruel street.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunted Streets
Lo, haply walking in some clattering street--
Where throngs of men and women dumbly pass,
Like shifting pictures seen within a glass
Which leave no trace behind--one seems to meet,
In roads once trodden by our mutual feet,
A face projected from that shadowy mass
Of faces, quite familiar as it was,
Which beaming on us stands out clear and sweet.
The face of faces we again behold
That lit our life when life was very fair,
And leaps our heart toward eyes and mouth and hair:
Oblivious of the undying love grown cold,
Or body sheeted in the churchyard mould,
We stretch out yearning hands and grasp--the air.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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See All Her Faces
(jim stratton / alexander ryan)
Here she comes
Here she comes
Ribbons flying from her half-forgotten hair
Look at her run
See what the world and love have done
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look in my eyes
That she is me
I cant disguise
See all her faces
Ah, ha, see all her faces
Im looking for someone
Of the gentle kind
Knowing that looks can lie
Looking for someone
Is he there to find?
Or should I run on by, ah, ha
Here she comes
Here she comes
Shadows sadly chasing
Every step she takes
Look at her now
She needs love so much more somehow
See all her faces
See all her faces
Look at my life
The wasted years
Each a knife
See all her faces, ah-ha
See all her faces
Waiting for someone
Who will set me free
Passing the time too fast
Waiting for someone
Is that where hell be?
Or should I run right past? , hmm
There she goes
There she goes
Somehow making me and all her faces sad, oh, oh
Ba, da, ba, da, ba, da, ba, da......
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faces
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: look around you
What do those faces tell you?
R: faces, joy and pain
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: people, people all over town
Some of them are poor and others wear a crown
Ive seen alot of many faces
Joy and pain in different places
Open your mind, set yourself free
Figure it out, what could it be?
Sympathise, understand
Give love and peace to the other fellow man
A: faces
R: faces, joy and pain
A: look around you
Do you see those faces
What do those faces tell you
A: everywhere I go, different faces I see
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: playing with your life, playing with your soul
You all scream out Im the one in control
Killing of the colours, silly stupid games
You know who you are without no names
Dont mess the world cause that the sequal
Open your mind cause we talking about the people
In the world, all kind of places
Different races, different faces
A: different faces
Everywhere
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man Of 1,000 Faces
I walk the streets by day, I never know quite what to say
It doesnt matter anyway
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
For years Ive lived inside my dreams
Somehow Ive made them real, it seems
I made my own rules, because I am a
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
I can put on any face, you all know me, but its no disgrace
The king of night, he understands
Man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
Whos the man of a 1000 faces, whos the man of a 1000 faces
Whos the man of a 1000 faces, whos the man
Im the man, Im the man, Im the man, Im the man
Im the man of a 1000 faces, Im the man of a 1000 faces
Im the man of a 1000 faces, Im the man
Im the man, Im the man, Im the man, Im the man (to fade)
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man & Me
Well an old man said to me
In a voice filled with pain
Where you going young man
Said I'm going to fight a war
Gonna fight for my country
In some foreign land
He said "The sun will never hurt you
Never harmed anyone
But you must realize"
If you try to stare her down
She will win in the end
She will burn your eyes
She will burn them
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get to Heaven
He said "Boy I was young once
Yeah I was tough
Sailing on Uncle Sam's boat
Hey I could kill the enemy
I could die on foreign streets
But I could not vote
But now you walk by me
You won't talk to me
Say this is my fate
But every time you walk the streets boy
Most of them you meet
You see it's you they hate
It's you...
Seen a million faces
Seen a million places die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get to Heaven
I hope I get there
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And I wonder who will walk with me
When I get there
See this woman sitting next to me
She's been there for a long, long time
And when I fell, she picked me up
When I cried, she wiped my tears
I thank god she's mine
And when I leave this world
She won't have anything
But her love for me
Cause the man took everything else
Made me hate myself
So just let her be boy
Won't you let her be
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old Man & Me
Well an old man said to me
In a voice filled with pain
Where you going young man
Said i'm going to fight a war
Gonna fight for my country
In some foreign land
He said "the sun will never hurt you
Never harmed anyone
But you must realize"
If you try to stare her down
She will win in the end
She will burn your eyes
She will burn them
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get to heaven
He said "boy i was young once
Yeah i was tough
Sailing on uncle sam's boat
Hey i could kill the enemy
I could die on foreign streets
But i could not vote
But now you walk by me
You won't talk to me
Say this is my fate
But every time you walk the streets boy
Most of them you meet
You see it's you they hate
It's you...
Seen a million faces
Seen a million places die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get to heaven
I hope i get there
Seen a million places
Seen a million faces die
And i wonder who will walk with me
When i get there
See this woman sitting next to me
She's been there for a long, long time
And when i fell, she picked me up
When i cried, she wiped my tears
I thank god she's mine
And when i leave this world
She won't have anything
But her love for me
cause the man took everything else
Made me hate myself
So just let her be boy
Won't you let her be
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Other Face
There again
I saw your other face
I saw your other expression
That I never had before
Face that will never be showed for me
Because there’s only somebody else
Can make your face like that
Face that show not for me
But for other people I don’t know
I hate to see it, I become jealous
Like I don’t have you completely
Like you have thousand other faces
That I never see, that you hide from me
Like I’m out of the circle and you become distant
Do I have those faces too?
Face that only show for me
Face that comes out because of me
Face that only show when there’s nobody else but me
I will keep it as mine
I will never share to anyone
Face that only for me
So I can have part of you
That nobody else has ever known or seen
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One Face
One face in a crowd is hard to find.
One face in that crowd is on my mind.
How can I find the face of one,
The face that to me is like the sun?
Shiny and bright with a radiant glow,
The face that picks me up when I'm low,
Eyes that light up wherever they are
Just like the splendor of an evening star,
Lips that break into the sweetest smile
That lingers for me for the longest while,
Hair that surrounds that face like a frame
That always sets my heart aflame.
I search all the faces but cannot see
The one that means the world to me.
I'm lost. I'm wretched. This should not be.
There are too many faces. I'm lost at sea.
One last glance and to my surprise
There's your face, your smile, your eyes.
The crowd's still there but not for me.
For the face I love is all I see.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Behind Every Gross Appearance Has Invisible Subtle!
Isn't it true
neither moon nor universe, not
even I or you are visible without the
invisible in us.
Visible all are, only because of
that more invisible in us! Behind every visible gross
appearance, there is more
invisible subtle appearance,
When we look at the picture,
We usually forget the canvas,
When watching a TV program, usually we can't see how
invisible electrons produce the
image.
I cannot see my own face,
just as God hides his face to us...
Therefore, could it be that we
have one and the same face?
our face is one of His face,
Yet as he can look at his other
faces using one that he can't see,
We are looking at our other faces
using this one, That we can't see,
This is the truth that The God
uses this face to look at other
faces! Yet we visible to that invisible,
And we are visible only due to
that invisible ground on which
whole world play,
World itself is visible face of that
invisible face, Every life become visible only
because of that who hides is face
behind beauty and ugly faces
alike!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Look Through Any Windows
Look through any windows, yeah
What do you see?
Smiling faces all around
Rushing through the busy town
Where do they go?
Moving on their way
Walking down the highways and the byways
Where do they go?
Moving on their way
Are people with their shy ways and their sly ways
You can see the little children all around
You can see the little ladies in their gowns
When you look through any windows, yeah
Any time a day
See the drivers on the roads
Button down their heavy loads
Where do they go?
Moving on their way
A-driving down the highways and the byways
Where do they go?
Moving on their way
Are drivers with their shy ways and their sly ways
You can see the little children all around
You can see the little ladies in their gowns
When you look through any windows, yeah
What do you see?
Smiling faces all around
Rushing down the busy town
Moving on their way (3x)
Ooh? moving on their way (3x)
Where do they go? (4x)
Ooh?
song performed by by 911
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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