Journey
My every gaze ends at the foot of a door,
One that looms with mystery,
My longing hungers to explore,
That infinite possibility.
I am told to follow the path in front of me,
And this I am often reminded,
That I must began my life journey,
That curiosity is blinded.
So I drag on to some unseen end,
Hoping to achieve fulfillment,
What others need, I can't comprehend,
All they see is entertainment.
So as I go about today,
Busy with routine occupation,
I secretly plan to disobey,
To be free of this oppression.
So in my mischief I conceive,
A plot ingeniously planned,
That will lead them all to believe,
That I have left this land.
Yet when the day has arrived,
I am tormented with fear,
I cannot apply the plan contrived,
Even with the end so near.
A time arrived where I gathered the will,
To break from this illusion,
I had to stop, I had my fill,
Enduring this delusion.
So I took control of what is mine,
I exercised my liberty,
Do not mourn my last design,
As I swing slowly from this tree.
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Everything Is Going To Be Like My Plan
Duty must be fulfilled
But everything is going to be like my plan
People could lie to me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Pray may be often
But everything is going to be like my plan
Time flies uncontrolled
But everything is going to be like my plan
Destiny may not be cooperated
But everything is going to be like my plan
Other plan may ruin mine
But everything is going to be like my plan
Body is reaching the limit
But everything is going to be like my plan
The will should be strengthened
But everything is going to be like my plan
The anxiety may be doubled
But everything is going to be like my plan
Critics never disappear
But everything is going to be like my plan
Life is unfair
But everything is going to be like my plan
The way seems lost
But everything is going to be like my plan
Regret is gnawing my sense
But everything is going to be like my plan
The goal still far away
But everything is going to be like my plan
The future end may unseen
But everything is going to be like my plan
Source may not be enough
But everything is going to be like my plan
Things always change
But everything is going to be like my plan
Problem keeps occurring
But everything is going to be like my plan
World would laugh
But everything is going to be like my plan
Failure keeps happening
But everything is going to be like my plan
Memories may not help
But everything is going to be like my plan
Luck may test me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Love may not support me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Weather wants to rebel
But everything is going to be like my plan
The form may be different
But everything is going to be like my plan
Hope could fool me
But everything is going to be like my plan
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maybe
I knew a God, he never answered, so I left him definitely,
His silence stung, his words were empty, but there was a hole in me,
I called to man, I searched the heavens, I dreamed of lands, of love, of beauty,
But always silence, met my tears, my mind searched on frantically.
So I moved on, to other thoughts, ones that would let me be,
Whole again, the amazement I sought, independent permanently,
So I pursued the path I chose, it was mine, this idea of liberty,
Yet chagrin arrived, and chastised my lies, and revealed this thing to me.
I flew on wings of foreign design, of mechanical build, you see,
What I thought was mine, naught but a hoax, a fool I was, in tragedy,
I wallowed anew in my senseless shame, for a time, lost in memory,
To arise again, the pain still fresh, the hole still gaping in me,
Unanswered questions, blooming in death, the end had arrived for me,
Even this crime, I desired for myself, was not my own, not certainly,
So I dug through all, I lived again, hoping for some possibility,
A glimpse of Truth, a hint of joy, somewhere, some certainty,
But from my soul it rose, this forbidden song, this forgotten melody,
That soothed my heart, calmed my ardor and bathed me in harmony,
It whispered, it cooed, it breathed the words, the words that would guide me,
Impossible it was, that it came from none, truly, none other than me,
No truth there was, no beauty from above, no rules, not even morality,
So I speak now the words, these marvelous words, these words so dear to me,
''Look not above, look not below, instead look back through what you would see,
There is nothing at all, for us to love, naught but what you wish to be,
In you is enough, in you is all, all is found in this, yes, all of reality,
In this simple way, this way of life, one of great simplicity,
Not a truth, not a must, this is the mystery,
Weep at the word, mock your Gods, shame all that came before me,
Here is the answer, here it is all, the sum of all finality:
Maybe. There it is all - Your's is a world, the greatest of worlds;
One of infinite possibility.''
poem by Jeremy Cahoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life Changes
I always thought life would be
just as I wanted it for me.
I just let it happen without a plan
and I would proceed as I began.
The unexpected changes came along,
unprepared for them like notes with no song.
The growth came slowly on every day
and routine tasks paved my way.
I stumbled more times than just a few.
But no one's pavement is a smooth walk through.
You carry the cross placed on your shouder.
You carry it begrudgingly until you're older.
Then age is upon you and I, for one
decided not to finish as I'd begun.
I started to plan and involve myself
like a mystery book that leaves the shelf.
The pages of my book are what I need
to turn and show me how to proceed.
How the book ends I do not know
but a good mystery book will never show
how the story ends. It surprises you.
That's how I'll be until I'm through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Life...
What is this puzzle that perplexes me?
This one true mystery or perhaps misery.
The breath of life has seeped into my soul,
Yet the answers of life have failed to make me whole...
How many questions must this lost soul ask,
Before my one true path is revealed to task.
An endless sea crashes onto the shore,
Made from the tears of what is no more...
A storm has danced across this land,
Wiping out what once may have been so grand.
All towers of tribute have rusted away,
Laid to rest with flowers to brighten the day...
For to live, love and respect is the grand design,
To this master plan we are confined.
For all is planned without a plan,
Perhaps one day I shall know who I am...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Without Lip Or Sucking Of Tongue
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And the length of time it took,
For anyone to notice my presence.
Although it was not my presence,
Or reason why...
That I began this journey to be noticed.
I was much too young.
Like a puppy first seeing its tail for the first time...
And curious as to where it came from.
Who knew?
I didn't!
Until I began following an attraction,
That seemed always in my mind.
Of course I 'know' how I arrived.
I first heard my voice.
And my parents noticed it.
I learned if I used it in certain ways,
They were there.
I was a baby them.
Then I connected my voice to words.
I was in awe that letters were attached.
And those letters attached used in different ways,
Made those words I said more or less effective.
Then I began to see those letters change,
As I began to print them by hand slowly.
I was amazed! .
Then I discovered certain words I shouldn't say!
I should never have been told that.
Because even today...
I will use those same words to chase people away.
Of course I know 'how' I arrived.
And I used a lot of cussing along the way.
Trust me.
But I stopped when it was pointed out to me,
I 'seemed' to have had more intelligence than that.
And whoever said that to me,
Had no clue as to how curious I was.
'Ma?
What's intelligence? '
~Someobody who asks too many questions.
And is about to get on my last nerve.~
'You talking about me? '
~Are you or are you not in my face? ~
'Why can't I ask you anything,
Before it's turned into a test? '
~And if you want to pass,
You know what to do.
Without lip or sucking of tongue.
You got that, mister? ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Heartbroken And Alone
I am just fine Mother, please do not worry;
All that may be taken now, is time-
And time, we know is in no hurry,
Though, surely, I am much more than prime,
For this 'journey' to be ended, and for a new one to begin;
Alas, it was not His plan, to be any other way,
Of same I was reminded yet again,
When I realized I was not independent on Independence Day!
I shall be 'home' shortly, but I will never be the same,
That I may be though, at all, is a miracle of its own;
I will leave here far different than when I came,
Yet alas, I will leave as I arrived, heartbroken and alone!
Until then, may the days pass more swiftly still,
And all those that follow, allow my dreams fulfill!
-Maurice Harris,6 July 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Africa United
Long time mi waiting ole long, waiting waiting ole long
AFRICA united, is part of my plan
Taking charge of the resource to get back the land
Time again, time is now, time is right, Time for God
Look how long I been waiting, look how long I’ve been waiting
AFRICA united, is part of my plan
Taking charge of the resource to getting back our land
Time again, time is now, time is right, use God as your might
I’m African; we are standing here holding on
No deals daag, it either everything or none
I’m African, and so is everyone who comes from Africa
You can not denied your super sub natural complexion
We are powerful, we are black we are black
Mother land, creation, thru the father God
Free the land and bring liberty in our hands
On to the day is can feel the disposition of the wrongs
Free the mother land, free Africa is the ultimate plan
Feel excitement, joy, in the hearts of the land
To see the children moving about and smiling
And to cater to ones that are sad and crying
Time to sacrifice our time our last dime
For the land, for the land, for the land, for the land
Don’t let anyone break the spiritual down
Never give up a fight, never them dem your frown
We go, stop on the top, top of this Game is right
Open up to God, He is the ultimate might
poem by Christopher Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If you don't design your own life plan, chances are you'll fall into someone else's plan. And guess what they have planned for you? Not much.
The East Wind
Today i am reminded of my short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be your turn;
Because the rainbow knows when to appear and,
I will follow my mind always to success.
Today you are reminded of your short comings and,
Tomorrow it will be another person;
For i am in the house of the Captain of the guards and,
I have a plan for my servant.
Like the dream that i had last night,
And of the magicians of Egypt;
I am now very thin and scorched by the east wind.
The wise of the world do not understand Yahweh's plan,
But my plan is revealed to you my lover;
Just like the house of a prostitute called Lulu.
Let your eyes behold me my love and,
Let the flint of knives of the circumcision work;
For i am just like the first horn of the bull but,
My faith will always lead me on.
The east wind,
And of the horn of the wild ox;
Do not prolong your stay in the forest my love!
For i am here tonight with the prepared meal,
And i will wait to see your face.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Magic America
ill barratt has a simple dream
he calls it his plan B
bulidings in the sky and the air is sugar-free
and everyones very friendly
plan B arrived on a holiday
he took a cab to the shopping malls
bought and ate until he could do neither anymore
then found love on channel 44
laaa
song performed by by Blur from Parklife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Day's Just Beginning, I Pray for My End
When the morning dawns.
I wake in haste.
I'm praying real hard for my end.
Life's experiences have driven me around the bend.
With out an ounce of dignity left to spend.
As the new days dawns.
I hope no one mourns.
I want my life to end.
It has twisted me around the bend.
As my days go on.
My pain does not end.
Fear not I have a plan.
I shall take my life tonight.
As the new days dawns.
My life is dying out.
I did the act of suicide.
I'm almost gone.
When this new day looms.
I am dead and cold.
When your new day looms.
Do not grive, do not mourn.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Each Day In His Hands
I may not know what happens today, as The Lord guides the way,
But, my times are in His hands, in ways no one truly understands,
I may even purpose within my heart, while a new day has its start,
But God directs the path I take, He's in charge, make no mistake.
The Lord directs this course of time, all within His Eternal Design,
God is sovereign over everything, which is earth and every being,
Directing both nations and men, by ways we cannot comprehend,
By His sovereign control over all; nations and men, big and small.
Sovereign Creator of all the earth, to man God gave special worth,
Making man in the very image of, The Creator, Who reigns above,
Intent on a relationship with man, this was indeed His original plan,
A plan Satan desired to impede, but, ultimately God will succeed!
God spoke by prophets of old, but since sent His Son to behold,
God's Eternal Son Jesus Christ, to restore the plan of eternal life,
Sent to reconcile man with God, when Jesus came to earth's sod,
Restoring that relationship for me, with The Creator of All Eternity.
So whatever pleases God in my life, He leads me in Jesus Christ,
Guiding me around every bend, knowing how each day shall end,
Days that I cannot understand, I simply leave in The Lord's Hand,
For as a member of God's Family, He knows what is best for me.
(Copyright ©06/2012)
To Heaven On Foot
Ta.................Ta.................Ta..
My journey began a long time ago
how it began is unknown
in this journey I was born
where to go lies in
Ta..............Ta...............Ta
the thuds of my foot steps
as I head to heaven.
Ts a long way to go
A life time ride by horse
through suns outstretched
to a land where
I find my own foot marks
telling me I have been here before
I am lost
perhaps the path lies in
Ta.............Ta.............Ta
the thuds of my foot steps
as I head to heaven on foot
Ts a long way to go
a one day ride by time
if day be eternal,
A journey o'er that hurdle
I hope time offers me its saddle.
Ts still a long way to go
miles and miles above the skies
a dismayed try after all the tries
ts still a long way to go
to heaven on foot.
My feet has become heavy
lardened with the sound
of my foot steps
my mind is lost at the centre
of direction,
am lost at the centre of a compass
hesitant to haste
so I move slow, a still gas
the path lies in
Ta.............Ta............Ta
as I heard to heaven
on foot.
I have walked for a life time
I have walked at least to death's time
now before me
are woods of green
and songs of birds playing,
are dear birds flying happily to heaven?
My matildah has
but a compass,
so I unpack my soul
clean its feet and
Ta...............Ta.............Ta...
To heaven on foot.
To cut through these woods
To cut through the song
of the white ravine
To cut through a way
and pass through the raven
Is the misguided hope of angels,
fallen angels
so I shall walk and
will never get lost in
Ta.................Ta...................Ta
the thuds of my foot steps
as I head to heaven.
In these woods
that tree points north
that other tree points north
all of the trees point to north
but their posture
is dimantled in a still gesture.
They point north
with their leaves
but they dont march
to heaven's gates
they are just still, stagnant pasture,
I cannot feed
their direction I cannot follow
but
Ta.............Ta............Ta!
To heaven on foot
I go and nothing on my way
I forego.
If I at once be stranded
was told to trace
my way back
following my prints and my scent
back to birth back to heaven
for I am from heaven.
But all I stumble upon
are cries of a child,
will the noise lead me to that mild
and allowed heaven?
Or do I have to cry
as I walk to heaven?
Ta....Ta.......................Ta...Ta! ! !
Through hills and drowning in seas
on my way to heaven,
on foot.
Across plains and hills
my body, sweating profusely
and tracking in ice
through and through the chills
my body no longer sweating,
sweat is freezing on my body,
everywhere frost
and I am not lost
on my way to heaven
on foot.
Ta........Ta....................Ta...... Ta
I walk now
Ta...Ta.............Ta...Ta
I will walk then
TaTa............TaTa...
until I reach the gates
Ta..Ta..Ta.....................Ta...Ta.. .Ta! !
Increasing my pace and rates.
On my way to heaven on foot
On my way to heaven on foot!
poem by Chanda Mwenechanya
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They Didn’t Get It
They simply didn’t get it, they just did not understand,
Words that were spoken, to them by The Son of Man,
Spoken by The Holy Spirit, of The Eternal Living God,
To enlighten every journey, on the pilgrim path we trod.
Men chosen by The Savior, The Lord we know today,
To follow in His footsteps, in a new and powerful way.
Were given inside information, of His plan from above,
God’s plan for our Salvation, on Christ’s cross of love.
As the Disciples heard, their spiritual eyes couldn’t see,
That His plan wasn’t temporal, but it was for all eternity.
Do some of the people today, follow the very same suit,
When hearing God’s Word, they do not grasp the Truth?
Many men today have read, and listened to God’s Word,
But just like the Disciples, they don’t get what they heard.
Their own desires and hearts, sometimes got in the way,
And the same may be the case, for many believers today.
But after Christ’s ascension, those Disciples had received,
Power from The Holy Spirit, to realize all that they believed.
Today the same Holy Spirit, The Lord God above bestows,
Upon every new Believer, whom The Lord God truly knows.
The Song Of Rain
how far is the journey that thou wilt
nobody ever told
just stepping foot
wherever will go
the trail is always behind
throughout memories that will disappear
sea swallows fragrant flowers
hidden on the beach
questions will come
also born from a scorched earth
by thousands of news buried
from within the walls of time
intercourse between earth and sky
i wish i was told how much stiff longing
who secretly falls from the tree
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The milestone marked nine
The milestone marked nine
I am by the side of a metro bus stop
Under the shadow not-so-fully grown gulmohar tree
Whose trunk is still protected by a tree guard
Crows and mynas perching on this tree
Often bless me with their droppings
But I remain in my shape
I may be a little over one foot tall
Wide enough for any person to rest on me
People, mostly elderly, sit on me
Preferring me to the tall stainless stool
Beneath the shelter
As they are confident of not tilting dangerously
I used to see dreams in the eyes of most of the people
Who wait for their bus to come
Some plan a future
Some ponder over the past pains
Some visualize their daughter’s wedding
Some think of a comfort after their son’s employment
Some plan for their retired life
Some have a dialogue with their unseen gods
Some keep talking over their mobile phones
Some sit on me minding not the bird dropping on their shirt
Some do not mind the spider spinning its web
Just above their head on the tree branch
Some smoke
Some keep munching fried peanuts
All keep busy themselves
Some may not have even noticed
This silent observer
The milestone marked nine
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Freedom
Though I cannot see the sun, I know that it’s still there.
The circumstances of this life, sometimes they are not fair.
People love and people hurt, and I have done the same.
The sadness of this paradox, there is always another to blame.
Another has shortcomings, no different than my own.
I can pinpoint exactly where another’s are, while mine remain unknown.
I hold a mirror to myself, the only thing I see.
The strengths that I bring to this world, my weaknesses cannot be.
My cycle continues, faster it spins, no longer in control.
My mind, my body, take my lead, they bury deep my soul.
I feel it in there, and it wants out, but it causes so much pain.
I ignore the part that will set me free, for I’m a slave to heart and brain.
My life gets worse, I can’t go on, and I live in my own hell.
And there I know I will remain, ‘til my soul can break its shell.
The shell with layers so deep and thick my body and mind have built.
In order to break this shell of mine, I must embrace my guilt.
The guilt of all my failures and the people I let down.
The character defects I embraced, when no one was around.
My reputation was my concern, my character I’d forsake.
But I’d have to switch this right around if my shell I was going to break.
So then began my journey, my journey deep within.
My guide became my savior; he freed me from my sin.
He told me I wasn’t who I became, but who our father made me to be.
This path of pain He led me down, it truly set me free.
I found this path not easy, but knew this path was right.
For the blind fool that I had become, became a wise man with great sight.
I know the one I’m grateful to, His love for me is great.
He turned me to the path of love, from the path of pain and hate.
I thank you Jesus, for your gift, for my spirit I did find.
You waited for me ‘til I was ready. You did not leave me behind.
For I was broken. I broke others too, but by my side you stayed.
For every debt that I incurred, you had already paid.
You made me understand it all. I now have sight to see.
I’m no longer a slave to body and mind. My soul is truly free!
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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My Return To The Magical Mystery Tree
Many kids run through the grass
Playing whatever game they've chosen
Passing them by
I walk up to the magicial mystery tree
I've paid a visit to the magicial mystery
tree before
And some have said that they can see
on the tree, a door
And some have said that they never saw
anything on the tree
I can see the door
But it's locked up tight
And try as I may
I can't unlock it
Not even with the help of the sunlight
Some say there's a whole different world
inside the magical mystery tree
Some say that only fairies and their friends
live inside the magical mystery tree
But no one knows for sure
So
After a few minutes in thought
Thinking of what I should do in the meantime
at the magical mystery tree
I decide to leave some very small gifts behind
for the fairies and their friends
Leaving behind some flowers and jewels
for the fairies and their friends
I certainly hope they'll enjoy them
I place near the door of the magical mystery
tree
After that
I realize I'm all done here
I gaze at the magical mystery tree for a few
moments
Until I realize it's time for me to be on my way
Looking at the magical mystery tree one last
time
I smile
Then I turn and walk away
Enjoy the gifts I've left behind
Fairies and friends
poem by Justin Gildow
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Sadly Deceived
Today people are sadly deceived, by the issues men have conceived,
Believing theories construed by man, on issues they don’t understand.
Pointing to issues deep in the heart, playing upon fear right at the start,
Warning peoples of peril up ahead, filling hearts with fear and a dread.
Never do they look unto The Creator, Who is earth’s ultimate sustainer,
Not understanding all God ordained, through all ages will be sustained.
Giving God no thought or room, while painting scenarios of utter doom,
Denying The God of all of creation, as they lean on their on inclination.
They don’t understand who’s in control, of all the earth and every soul.
The theories these men fabricate, will not change this world or its fate.
The world created by a Flawless God, reigning above with an iron rod,
Where He laughs and scoffs at men; of the little that they comprehend.
They are big thinkers in their own eyes, but in God’s are far from wise,
Saying all life on earth shall end, because of global warming my friend.
A problem created on the earth by us, simple men created out of dust,
Cannot frustrate the Eternal Plan, of God Who created earth and man.
God doesn’t need man’s puny mind, to critique and change His design.
He needs to prepare for the day; earth is purged in God’s planned way,
By getting on God’s only plan, embracing not earth but the Son of Man.
If they choose never to believe, eternally they’ll remain sadly deceived.
Isn't That The Way
I've got feeling inside me
I'm not letting you know
I can't stop the wastin' of the world
Wastin' all the days and minutes hours slip away
I can't stop the ways in which you plan
To leave our past behind
I know they've changed your mind
Isn't that the way someone told you
Isn't that the way someone cared
Isn't that the way someone told you
Isn't that the way someone cared
I can't stop the rest of me
From not letting you know
I'm not here to preach to you what I had
Faking all the feelings that I started letting grow
I can't stop the ways in which you plan
To leave our past behind
Tomorrow's left my mind
Bridge:
I can't stop the way in which you plan
To do it all, leave it all behind
Tomorrow's left my mind
Isn't that the way someone told you
Isn't that the way someone cared
Isn't that the way someone told you
Isn't that the way someone cared
song performed by by Zebra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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