A fragment of memory
like death
the body that
dissolves into dust,
bones and
nothingness,
the spirit dissipates
to its sources
- the moon, the sun
and the distant stars -
forces that had come
together in a synergy
to form a child that was me
they return to their respective
sphere on my last breathe
and until these similar sources
meet again, i am but
a fragment of your memory
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
We don't have sources who are dissidents on other sources. Should they come forward, that would be a tricky situation for us. But we're presumably acting in such a way that people feel morally compelled to continue our mission, not to screw it up.
quote by Julian Assange
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Even as we work to develop more sources of petroleum for the United States, we must continue our vigorous pursuit of alternative fuels, so that we can be powered by cleaner, more efficient sources of energy.
quote by Virgil Goode
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I deal with first-hand sources. And give the people, even John Sununu, the opportunity to respond to what I've been told by first-hand sources.
quote by Bob Woodward
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There are all kinds of sources of our knowledge; but none has authority … The fundamental mistake made by the philosophical theory of the ultimate sources of our knowledge is that it does not distinguish clearly enough between questions of origin and questions of validity.
quote by Karl Popper
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fragment
Moon of leaves,
Moon of the falling leaves,
To you I bring the slippers
of the sun.
That you may dance upon the
floor of sun,
My lady carries sun within her eyes.
Moon of the Unrevealed,
Moon of the gold-encrusted shield,
To you I bring the fragment
of my prayer.
Moon of the crinkled hair,
Tell me, will my lady yield
Eyes and mouth and breasts unsealed?
Will my lady yield?
Moon of the yellow streaked with red,
Moon that the sun would lead to bed,
Moon with the death's head
More than dead,
Why do you frighten the Goddess of Love,
Whose frail white fingers are moving above
The lover's white body lost in his love?
Moon, you are more than dead.
Moon of the ermine loist in the snow,
Moon of the frozen furbelow,
Moon of the nothingness here below,
Moon, you must go.
It is the Sun that tells you so-
Moon, you must go.
And I was dark beneath the moon,
And you were dark beneath the moon,
And we were dark beneath the moon.
Now I am gold beneath the sun,
Now you are gold beneath the sun,
Now we are gold beneath the Sun.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Space Travel Made Easy
Just think;
Space travel without a space suit or spacecraft!
Not possible?
Think again!
There is no need for physical form when spirit is set free
Spirit is pure consciousness that is impervious to hot or cold
Spirit has no need to breathe, eat or drink
Spirit can travel anywhere instantly
Want to know how the sun works?
You can go to the sun’s surface by sheer intention
Yes, anywhere is not only possible but practicable
So how do you separate spirit from your body?
Firstly your ego must be bound and gagged
Then meditate to still the doubting mind
In time you remember how to leave your body
Next you will yourself free of physical form
On Earth;
Release of form is the only freedom possible
Freedom is the launching pad for your spirit
An unencumbered spirit knows all there is to know,
And absolute freedom makes everything possible
Now there is only one question left to ask
What star in the Cosmos do I want to visit?
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Misty Moon
the misty moon the secret star that shyfully hides behind his pa
la lovely lune c’est magnifique tres fantastique my glowy Moon
a floodlit sky only noticed by lovers as they think its romantic
and the right thing to say
not really seen for what he is a share shifting orb
crescent present
shine on harvest moon for me and my me
a non during lightbulb sanity in confusing melee
he does have a face not visible to human race
the winkin moon the thinking moon
he knows when to glow and shares the stage
with a million stars magnitudinal actors real stars.
fuzzy shining and sharp depends how you look
with your eyes seem so tiny from distant earth
yet were really tiny from distant sky
i notice you moon and talk to you moon
and say to the stars they pulse in return
poem by Jasmine Maddock
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Dust Child
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little while
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Sleepwalking angel
Travel through a lonely house
Inspire hollow
Sadly follow
Your way to find me here
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little more
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Let dust settle
As blankets for your sleep
The skin tremble form the cold
Slowly'll corrode
Rest while you can
Before the sun comes up
And they'll find you where they find you
Only hope says they'll find you right here
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child breathe your lungs a little while
Come child sleep here by my side
Come child to your surrender
Wander ghostly cherub
Let torrents of empty calm you down
Let the dreams that wait for you dampen your lips
Until you wake and breathe your darling lungs no more...
Come child to your surrender (repeat until fades)
poem by Daniel Oliveira
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The sources of poetry are in the spirit seeking completeness.
quote by Muriel Rukeyser
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dark At The End Of The Night
The dark at the end of the night
The hole in the ground
The worms:
This is what I fear
The nothingness that lasts forever
And the disintegration that makes all I am
Smell terribly for a while
And then on and on,
Bones and dust
Dust and dust.
Oh the fear of the ground
And the fear of that nothingness forever-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Dublin & Chicago
a pseudonym is necessary
to establish an identity
based on origins
personality is irrelevant
in the scheme of things
that intrigue poets
perhaps a dramatic dialogue
is in order to elucidate
how things are
like browning and his duchess
call it plagiarism if you like
but that's how it is
in dublin and in chicago, too
wallace stevens and his poem
the emperor of ice cream
are sources for the resourceful
writer who credits his sources
for the inspiration they inspire
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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The Horse's Mouth
You've learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
You feel betrayed by this...
And confront reliable sources.
They are dumbfounded too.
They believed they knew more,
Than what they actually knew.
And they too feel betrayed,
By this.
They've all learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
And all felt betrayed by this...
With no one left to confront.
And dumbfounded too.
How could this business done,
Skip by whispers and listening ears?
Not so reliable are those sources.
And those who had spread their lies with glee,
Awakened one day with this understanding...
They have no idea who anyone really is!
They have no idea...
Since the horse's mouth,
Had ignored for years...
All of their ears!
Since that horse,
Of course...
Few knew anything about,
Whenever that horse appeared.
You've learned something,
That had not been part of gossip.
You feel betrayed by this...
And confront reliable sources.
They are dumbfounded too.
They believed they knew more,
Than what they actually knew.
And they too felt betrayed,
By this.
The horse conducted its business,
Distant from their flapping lips!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Apocalyptic Love
If skies were rolled away, like parchment scroll,
And stars faded as in an ended dream,
And world expires, after the bells would toll,
And moon dissolves with not a chunk to gleam;
But should an asteroid be left around,
On which by chance, I might yet safely land,
Hoping, that there you also might be found,
I will ask nothing more, but hold your hand;
But Apocalypse or not, here I am,
Right by your side, with my heart on your palm,
And should this body prove only a sham,
My spirit take, to medicate as balm;
......For it will last being ethereal,
......Though my body is but corporeal.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Love Sonnet 08: If skies were rolled away, like parchment scroll,
If skies were rolled away, like parchment scroll,
And stars faded as in an ended dream,
And world expires, after the bells would toll,
And moon dissolves with not a chunk to gleam;
But should an asteroid be left around,
On which by chance, I might yet safely land,
Hoping, that there you also might be found,
I will ask nothing more, but hold your hand;
But Apocalypse or not, here I am,
Right by your side, with my heart on your palm,
And should this body prove only a sham,
My spirit take, to medicate as balm;
......For it will last being ethereal,
......Though my body is but corporeal.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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You Are Unto Dust
You are made from the dust of the earth,
And the Wailing-Wall will be there for you;
For you are unto dust and you shall return unto dust,
And this is just the journey of the spirit.
To the realm of the unknown and to the things we do for love,
And until death put us apart on this side of the planet;
For the flesh goes back to where it belongs to!
Yes, back to the earth.
Death is part of us and we need to learn from others,
For we have to be prepared as well;
For he flesh goes back to where it belongs to;
And out of the dust we were made.
The dust became flesh and today we are human beings,
And from the knowledge of the things to come;
But naked we came and naked we shall return.
Shed no tears on this love,
For death comes for all of us on this earth;
And we need to learn from the facts around us as well,
For it is better to be very righteous than to be buried with evil deeds.
Life is a long road full of sand and,
All that is acquired on this earth is vanity!
Yes, vanity upon vanity! !
For you and i are unto dust and,
Unto dust we shall return at the end of of all things.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In general, the philological movement opened up countless sources relevant to linguistic issues, treating them in quite a different spirit from traditional grammar; for instance, the study of inscriptions and their language. But not yet in the spirit of linguistics.
quote by Ferdinand de Saussure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deceit
Inside my world of cherries trees,
And bumble bees,
And summer breeze,
Inside my world of cherries trees,
Take all you wish.
Take it, please.
Inside my house of stately poses
And vibrant roses
And jolly toses
Inside my house of stately poses
Take all you wish.
Take all the doses.
Inside my treat of fine courses
And tasty forces
And smelly sources
Inside my treat of fine courses
Take all you wish.
Take from all the sources.
Inside my wish is my world, house, and treat
My mind's only retreat
My pain's only defeat
Inside my wish is my world, house, and treat
Take all you wish.
Too bad for you, my wish is deceit.
poem by Andy Greenwald
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
Death death
Death death death
Death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death
Death death death death
Death death death
Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Goner
'How can I tell
If I shall ever love you again
As I do now? '
time has no mouth anymore.
it has only wings.
i am carried away and on few words
my soul dissolves
my body rots
turns to dust
no nectar is found
in my hair
no flower grows from
my bones
my name is encrypted
in your womb
on mere initials
of my pen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A story of a broken conscious
The shadow is the dark
represents the peace in the light
the dark will rise
from the derived light
reversed usage of thought
according to the light
its not a might
a well thought pattern to demolish that light
removing the might inducing the night
bluring the owns sight
What If Someone is born in the night
taught by the dark light
introdcuing the mystic might
to the powers of the moon light
What If Someone born in the light
taught by the blessings of elder's might
revealing every day rituals to the rays of the sun light
In the contrary, lights are in common
sources that are not in synergy,
thought the time is reversed in different poles
no wonder every day is to be more ignorant
it is hard to know what to go into a light
whenever you don't whats bad or right
poem by Shady ElShafie
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