Beating A Path To Onself
a great sea one can be perpetually lost in
or find oneself moored at its coast
and picking up all the shapely shells - that's the mind
a great sea one can be perpetually seeking self
or found a compass to all the interesting lands
the great sea where one can beat a path
to oneself in poetry
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Who Is Truly Great?
Great is one who humbles oneself;
Great is one who accomplishes without expectations;
Great is one who labors for others’ welfare;
Great is one who struggles for a noble cause;
Great is one who gives his life for his Maker’s sake;
Great is one who sacrifices his precious life for truth’s sake;
Great is one who takes the road least taken;
Great is one who climbs life’s steep hills;
Great is one who treads dangerous paths for mankind’s progress;
Great is one who risks his life unduly to save others’ lives;
Great is one who although born or made handicapped does extra-ordinary feats;
Great is one who scales heights of achievements rarely done by others;
Great is one who toils in sleep-hours too for mankind’s upliftment;
Great is one who racks his brain to find a cure for a crippling disease;
Great is one who shuns selfishness for the cause of his poorer brethren;
Great is one who dies so that others can live in peace;
Great is one who lives not for oneself but others;
Great is one who loves and forgives his worst foe;
Great is one who leads life in accordance with the Word of God!
(4-13-2007)
poem by John Celes
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0017 And Where The Joy
This, then, the question
for those whom it may concern –
to find a celebration in oneself
that, as outer is, so inner;
that all truth rests within oneself –
for where else can it be found?
to love oneself – for oneself must be loveable,
or none other could be loved for true;
to know all happiness to be within;
to celebrate all this; the world a constant joy;
to find this celebration in oneself.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Just Be You
When one looks at history
We can either
Learn from the past
To adapt to the present
So you can
Face tomorrow's mysteries
The age old question
We all ask
Can we better ourselves?
To better oneself
You must be brave
To better oneself
You must know love
To better oneself
You must be strong
To better oneself
You must believe
To better oneself
You must learn to share
To better oneself
Just be you
After learning all
Of life's mysteries
One must discover
To be true to
Thine own self
Just be you
poem by Kaila George
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
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Self indulgences.
The one who talks much of oneself
Is doing so to conceal as much oneself.
The one who curses much oneself
Is doing so to get pity for oneself.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Greatness Only to the Great
The one who made oneself great
Is alone held by people with awe.
Parents and children of the great
Are ignored or viewed with jealousy.
(28.06.2004)
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Poem Perpetually Longed For
THE POEM PERPETUALLY LONGED FOR
The poem perpetually longed for
Is like the love
One wanted to spend one’s life with
The love that came and went away
And will never return again.
The Poem Perpetually Longed for
Is like a second love
Never as young as the first
Loved with an old man’s love
The Poem Perpetually Longed for
Is like a love held in heart
To the end of one’s days
A love one will be buried with
forever.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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It is true that the poet does not directly address his neighbors; but he does address a great congress of persons who dwell at the back of his mind, a congress of all those who have taught him and whom he has admired; that constitute his ideal audience and his better self. To this congress the poet speaks not of peculiar and personal things, but of what in himself is most common, most anonymous, most fundamental, most true of all men. And he speaks not in private grunts and mutterings but in the public language of the dictionary, of literary tradition, and of the street. Writing poetry is talking to oneself; yet it is a mode of talking to oneself in which the self disappears; and the products something that, though it may not be for everybody, is about everybody.
quote by Richard Wilbur
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Religion promotes the divine discontent within oneself, so that one tries to make oneself a better person and draw oneself closer to God.
quote by Cyril Cusack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Poverty
The horrific specter called Poverty,
Ruining most illustrious of men;
Denying them much of their liberty;
Suppressing talents and scholastic ken.
The snow-balling avalanche that kills man,
Great scholars, scientists, poets, genius;
Putting them to death in her lion’s den,
Humiliation caused by an empty purse!
Oh, how the nightmare can affect these minds!
Sucking the sap of life in a few years;
Perpetually haunting them, it binds
To destroy sometimes, the souls of some seers.
Poverty generates great Poetry!
How can man live by writing poems free?
poem by John Celes
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I sometimes wonder if the inability to find oneself makes one seek oneself in other people, in characters.
quote by John Cazale
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The light that radiates from the great novels time can never dim, for human existence is perpetually being forgotten by man and thus the novelists discoveries, however old they may be, will never cease to astonish.
quote by Milan Kundera
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Might As Well
Great North Special, would you all board
You can't find a ride like that no more,
The night the chariot swung down low
Ninety-nine children had a chance to go.
One long party from front to end
Tune to the whistle going round the bend,
No great hurry, what do you say?
Might as well to be every way.
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well.
Ragtime slowly for twenty-five miles
Then switch over to the cajun style
Bar car blowing rhythm and blues,
Rock 'n' roll wailing in the old caboose.
Long train running from coast to coast
Bringing home a party when you need it the most
Work on the box car, beat on the bell
Nothing else shaking so you might just as well.
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well.
Never had such a good time in my life before
I'd like to have it one time more
Whoa! One good ride from start to end,
I'd like to take that ride again, again!
Ran out of track and I caught the plane
Back in the county with the blues again
Great North Special been on my mind
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well, might as well,
Might as well, might as well, might as well
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shapley Supercluster
Found a shapely theory: The Seven Samurai’s
Great Attractor was replaced by the more
massive Shapley Supercluster
In 2005 the X ray CIZA survey, Clusters in the Zone
of Avoidance, revealed the Milky Way is not drawn
towards the Great Attractor
But to a more massive region behind it, The Shapley
Supercluster, four times the distance to the Great
Attractor,500 million light-years away
The CIZA team demoted the Samurai’s Great
Attractor to only a tenth of the mass
originally estimated
I feel quite deflated, though Shaply Super
is shapely enough in theory…
(IFA press release; Maggie McKee, New Scientist,
December 15,2005; Kocevski and Ebeling,2005;
and Kocevski et al,2005) .
http: //www.solstation.com/x-objects/greatatt.htm
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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To be a great man and a saint for oneself, that is the only important thing.
quote by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was an old man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread & butter;
Till a great bit of muffin
On which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid old man of Calcutta.
quote by by Edward Lear
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There was an Old Man of Calcutta,
Who perpetually ate bread and butter,
Till a great bit of muffin,
On which he was stuffing,
Choked that horrid Old Man of Calcutta
quote by by Edward Lear
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Nature Is One Great Intelligence
nature is one great intelligence
it never puts anybody's nose on his anus
or his penis on his head, or his hands
on his foot, stomach on his buttocks
and men and women, male and female
fit into each other just nice as if
they have been made for each other
and those who love otherwise would
too find their love nature arranges for them
nature is such a great intelligence
all things go according to its secret plans
though with some interesting variations
nature is such a great intelligence
not a single thing happens without a reason
nature is such a great intelligence
you can go along with it, hand in hand,
mind in mind, body and soul
sitting quietly in your house
in a cave, in your own self listening
to its voice of love for all
go along with its great workshop of body,
mind and soul, a blossom in all its silence
confident of its own splendour and fragrance
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Great Grandma
Great Grandma married Great Grandpa
poor Irish girl and poor Indian man
Great Grandma
used to get beat by Great Grandpa's mom
Great Great Grandma
because Great Great Grandma only spoke an Indian
language and not English.
She got hit by a train.
Lots of us Indians got hit by trains in one way
or another, but this was
literal and not metaphor.
poem by Smack Thompson
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I Am Waiting
I am waiting for my case to come up
and I am waiting
for a rebirth of wonder
and I am waiting
for someone to really discover America
and wail
and I am waiting
for the discovery
of a new symbolic western frontier
and I am waiting
for the American Eagle
to really spread its wings
and straighten up and fly right
and I am waiting
for the Age of Anxiety
to drop dead
and I am waiting
for the war to be fought
which will make the world safe
for anarchy
and I am waiting
for the final withering away
of all governments
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Second Coming
and I am waiting
for a religious revival
to sweep through the state of Arizona
and I am waiting
for the Grapes of Wrath to be stored
and I am waiting
for them to prove
that God is really American
and I am waiting
to see God on television
piped’ onto church altars
if only they can find
the right channel
to tune in on
and I am waiting
for the Last Supper to be served again
with a strange new appetizer
and I am perpetually awaiting
a rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for my number to be called
and I am waiting
for the Salvation Army to take over
and I am waiting
for the meek to be blessed
and inherit the earth
without taxes and I am waiting
for forests and animals
to reclaim the earth as theirs
and I am waiting
for a way to be devised
to destroy all nationalisms
without killing anybody
and I am waiting
for linnets and planets to fall like rain
and I am waiting for lovers and weepers
to lie down together again
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the Great Divide to ‘be crossed
and I am anxiously waiting
for the secret of eternal life to be discovered
by an obscure general practitioner
and I am waiting
for the storms of life
to be over
and I am waiting
to set sail for happiness
and I am waiting
for a reconstructed Mayflower
to reach America
with its picture story and tv rights
sold in advance to the natives
and I am waiting
for the lost music to sound again
in the Lost Continent
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting for the day
that maketh all things clear
and I am awaiting retribution
for what America did
to Tom Sawyer
and I am waiting
for the American Boy
to take off Beauty’s clothes
and get on top of her
and I am waiting
for Alice in Wonderland
to retransmit to me
her total dream of innocence
and I am waiting
for Childe Roland to come
to the final darkest tower
and I am waiting
for Aphrodite
to grow live arms
at a final disarmament conference
in a new rebirth of wonder
I am waiting
to get some intimations
of immortality
by recollecting my early childhood
and I am waiting
for the green mornings to come again
youth’s dumb green fields come back again
and I am waiting
for some strains of unpremeditated art
to shake my typewriter
and I am waiting to write
the great indelible poem
and I am waiting
for the last long careless rapture
and I am perpetually waiting
for the fleeing lovers on the Grecian Urn
to catch each other up at last
and embrace
and I am waiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder
poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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