I dance with the Gods and Goddesses
i could have danced away
in the lotus bloom,
the wood that
comes to life
under the hands
of a master carver.
my eyes fleet from
one sacred countenance
to the next,
the prelude to the
mystic dance
i am drawn to do
with the
gods and goddesses.
the first step
i learn from the
KuangYing (goddess of mercy)
with a thousand hands,
so graceful
and delicate
they curl to
form an arc
above her.
my heart
goes afflutter,
my limbs soft
my soul flies
in her gaze.
if i could
just possess
two of those
wonderful hands,
i would
swing them
in the
ballet world.
the sakyamuni
buddha in his
meditative stance -
the depth
that it brings
my heart to
the sacred world -
that empty realm
and sanctum
where everything
goes quiet to
let god take
centrestage;
those seconds
in any
dance show
where the
audience's mind
is led to
run on
infinity,
every dancer
still like me
enthralled
at the buddha's
magic and spiritual aura.
the laughing budda
with his potbelly
i nearly stumble
in my urge to
touch, to rub off
some luck
to level my
years of financial
inadequacy.
and i stand aghast
at the drunken Monk
in torn fabrics
with his mouth tightly
squeezed against
a wine gourd
reminiscent of
a baby suckling
from a mom's
succulent breast.
the whiskered
Kuang Kong (god of war)
in that familiar
honorable martial pose
with his large spear
inspires anybody's
sense of patriotism
and readiness
to make that leap
for action to protect
one's nation.
these multi-faceted gods
and goddesses
boil up my sense
of humour
in the joy
that there are
so many wondrous characters
in the heavens
waiting to light up my life
if i were lucky to enter them.
l saunter through the hall
with the ramayana
gods and goddesses
in caves, in lotuses, on rocks
sending me off
to the real world.
i dance the last
few steps that
herald me back
to the mundane world
.....of toil and pain, senses
a world these gods and goddesses
decide to sacrfice their own paradise
to get me out of.
(rayamana buddhist deities are deities
who forgo their own chance to go
into their heavens temporarily so that they could remain in the human realm to help
mankind get out of the grim cycle of reincarnation)
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Two thousand years ago, we lived in a world of Gods and Goddesses. Today, we live in a world solely of Gods. Women in most cultures have been stripped of their spiritual power.
The Song Of The Goddesses
On top of 3 buildings
The goddesses stand
A burst of air passes by
Dust escapes their open hands
The goddesses float in the air
And all around they stare
With an open hand
They begin to sing
Letting their voices carry around the world
The song of the goddesses glides in the wind
The song of the goddesses pounds underground
The song of the goddesses runs across the land
As they sing their song
The goddesses wish for peace
They hope for many to find love and happiness
And to smile along the way
poem by Justin Gildow
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Poem about Poetry - An Eastern Ballad
i long to be an eastern poet
to write about the Great wall
wean stories from every tearstained stone
that still echoes the cries of those
missing homes, wives and children
walk its length to measure the cold
and forlorn monolith borne from the
heart of stones of Shih piled high
over hills and mountains
i long to be an eastern poet
to write about the legion of
gods and goddesses in the nook
and corner on the pantheons
of the the temples of india
those alluring and well endowed
gods and goddesses who stole from
heavens to teach about salvation
senseless senses, seeds of bondage
this world a dungeon of pain, a realm
nobody should come back to except the gods
to help man metamophosise from a bundle of senses
to om consciousness, nirvana
i would love to meet Moses
to talk about the Almighty God
his little brush with death and Salvation
on the swift Nile that still oozes with the tears
of mom who lost only son to the Pharoah's princess
the river that gave him his name
his lovelorn days in the gardens of the Palace
and the parting of the Red Sea that drew a line
between the people of God and the Idols
and whether he fell in love with what he saw there (the gardens)
a world away from the madness of the world
and the secrets he culled from the Highest One
about life, death, heavens and hell that help
us wade through the sea of ignorance to enlightenment
I would love to live with the tribes, wild men
of the South seas, learn about their hungry gods and sacrifices
perhaps then i could tell good from evil,
the gods from the devils and the truth from the lies
or perhaps live a life free from the One up there
recognising man's unreadiness, unworthiness for him yet
take and love people from that corner of the heart
that we all possess, starting from the Almighty's simplest lesson
a real eastern ballad i long to sing to the world
inspired by
An Eastern Ballad
I speak of love that comes to mind:
The moon is faithful, although blind;
She moves in thought she cannot speak.
Perfect care has made her bleak.
I never dreamed the sea so deep,
The earth so dark; so long my sleep,
I have become another child.
I wake to see the world go wild.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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It Is Your World Now
it is your world now
you have enough of theirs
those who are gods and goddesses
what is perfect is never your choice
not yours
though
you live in your world now
of imperfections
on the other hand
upon such acceptance
you have become one
perfect human being
it is your world now
fill it with the birds of your choices
red, blue, yellow
feathers and claws and beaks
keep them well
in your hands
let them fly forever in your minds
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Many Gods
Gods are too many in one religion-
That is an asking of much distaste.
Gods are like religions of adjustment,
Lots of them would affect us in different ways.
Gods may produce laughter,
But Thor is no good with thunder.
Gods are not selling me objects,
Due to the weather and frame of mind.
I live with gods and goddesses
For I am a job to do with the highest ones.
poem by Naveed Akram
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When Your Hand Of Friendship Is Brushed Aside
say thank you
try extending your hand to another hand
to the other thousand hands in this world who need other hands
those with love in their hearts those with minds still believing in friendship
tell yourself she does not deserve your offer
assure yourself she is another ghost
another virtuality
another waste
a junk
without a name without a soul without a face
extend your hand to another hand with real fingers on them
and try seeing yourself in the mirror
you still have that reflection and that ghost does not have any
be glad
you are real and she isn't
does she think that you have pain and that you need her friendship badly
such that you want to bow before her like she is the goddess of beauty
and wisdom and truth?
let her be. She is not a part of you.
why bother?
be yourself and keep that hands of friendship warm
for another one who needs it too
let the gods reign in the heavens. They live in their clouds
stay on earth and be the river for the fishes to swim
for the strangers to drink with the cup of their hands for them to quench
their thirsts
let your hands of friendshipsbe the seeds of springs
the flowers of summers
that bloom forever
let your scent spread for those who still need them
and let these gods remain as gods
because they shall always be worshipped as loveless strangers of this earth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Total Freedom
In absolute oblivion
With nature and the forces of existence
Into play
Thousands years of history
Written
Some relics and the forgotten one
Gods word or the wise mans talk
Deriving meaning from the stars
Sun and the moon
Goddesses and deities
The great abstraction
In the realm of thought
Freedom remains the desire
Freedom from the bonds of the humanity
Freedom from all wants
Freedom from the will of others
Imposed or perpetuated
Freedom from ideas
In the name of social consciousness
In the collective realm of the society
Of life and death
Life in community
A dream sought after
The breaking of shackles
Of ideas and the iron chain
The evolutionist’s theory of having attained modernity
The matrix of life stuck between falsehood and reality
With great illusions
Get into the realm of total freedom
Away from the connections and strings
Whose other ends are controlled in places distant
Out from the mischief of the fate defined as luck
Make death the ultimate inspiration
Whirling into circles for the last freedom
That too is another thread of making the other being
As a final destiny of union
Unite with thyself
Leave alone all the philosophies and doctrines
Religions and beliefs
Hold the wine cup of total freedom
All alone
Without any god or fate
Discover for thyself
The ultimate truth
Enter total freedom
From self to self
Leave the saki
Drunk with the wine of total freedom
Declare it to the world
For the god to listen
For the wise to ponder
Let the angels sing into your ears
Let the beauties of paradise
Dance in front of you
In
Total freedom
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Postmodern picture
Heart, gold, stone,
dance salome,
dance,
decapitate my head, just dance,
with youre divine hips
make me smile,
i can't translate my vision of the world,
youre green eyes,
the clearest pearls of a murderer,
bring me closer to my death,
dance,
dance,
dance and be damn
by all gods,
just dance and
make my world
the best world ever
poem by Robert Ravenšćak
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The Jealous Gods
Oh life is wonderful,' she said,
'And all my world is bright;
Can Paradise show fairer skies,
Or more effulgent light?'
(Speak lower, lower, mortal heart,
The jealous gods may hear.)
She turned for answer; but his gaze
Cut past her like a lance,
And shone like flame on one who came
With radiant glance for glance.
(You spoke too loud, O mortal heart,
The jealous gods were near.)
They walked through green and sunlit ways;
And yet the earth seemed black,
For there were three, where two should be;
So runs the world, alack.
(The listening gods, the jealous gods,
They want no Edens here.)
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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He Is the Creator
He made the heavens and the earth by His Power!
He is the Creator;
He established the world by His Wisdom,
And He is the Creator;
He created us for a purpose,
And He is the Creator;
So why worship other Gods and Goddesses today? !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Faery Song
a faery world
realm
is no man's world
we watch with eager eyes
all the dramas that unfold
in the human realm
day after day
our hearts afflutter
in a chain
devoid of passion
we would give up
anything for that
multi faceted sensual,
passionate,
ecstatic experience
multi worlded
sadness, joy, pain,
etched in every cell
a faery world
is no man's world
fossilised boredom
in our bossom
men have cried over any dead one
so still, so devoid of
feeling....
like our existence
we would die to be man
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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I live in Little India
dawn in Little India unfolds
from the sanctum of the Lotus
petal by petal of spiritually
inches and spreads around our heart as
as the sun rises from the palm
of the Almighty colouring the sky
with his shades of blessings
like the Hindu Gods blue,
green, red, and yellow on their chariots
screening the splendour of heavens
buddhist temple bell chimes right at six,
after the call of the mosque azan
when there is a hindu festival
the nearby shrine where Kali manfiests
the frightening scale of her character
a red blood tongue lengthy enough
to draw a thousand questions
from passers of her divinity
one of the few Hindu goddesses to whom
you can slaughter an animal to please her
india and little india fight for space
this little shrine even the Gods have to make do with little place
to stand, to sit, as devotees pray, offer incense
to Muruga, the warrior God, Muneswaran,
the Guardian God and Ganapathi the Elephant God
for a happy existence in Little India
to be continued
rattles away
their drums to a frenzy
the spiritually inclined joins in
the meditation ambience evoke
by all these, the gayathri and other mantras
i used to see the world in black and white
until i started to live in little india
there is light in the dark or darkness in light
my eyes are open to chakras, bright red, orange
yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet
these are the colours of the buildings
clothes, vibuthi, ....
poetry in progress
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Repeatedly Kiss the Pillow
Brunette lady
With dark mysterious eyes,
You even mesmerize the moonlight
Falling softly upon you with love.
In a midnight garden, roses sleep
Like happy angels,
But you walk with a man
Kissing the nape of your neck,
Running his hand beneath your blouse
To touch your stomach in ecstasy.
The heavens are breathing romance,
Amorous gods and goddesses are disrobing,
The world is becoming intoxicated
With the wine of desire,
And you alone surpass them all
With your supple body of captivating dreams,
With the slightest movements of your breasts
Making every gazing man tremulous,
Setting off lovely eruptions.
It is impossible to possess you,
But I would repeatedly kiss the pillow
That has cradled and caressed your head
While you peacefully slept
And left the world anxiously waiting
To see your magnificent vision again.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Unlike Them
unlike them
all they need to write are only a few
to become the shining stars of the heavens
the greatest of them
does not even have to say any word
to become the sun
the brightest planet shines
on the midnight sky
even without a hush
you must learn as early as now
that they have inherited their thrones from the gods
and goddesses
those that do not work and earn their merit
through hard work and
sacrifices
they do not have to burn their candles on both ends
for their lights are inside them
like living fireflies in automation
innate and essential for their own natural existences
they do not have to show off to be
heavenly and glorious
for effortlessly they are victorious
but no regrets for we are the ants and the pebbles are on our side
in the middle of the thick grass above the sand dunes
we look up and we wonder
we thirst and we wait for the drops of rain
we are empty and we breathe the air at night to be full
we are small and insignificant
yet we are what we are
no promises
in the simplicity of our dreams
in the fatigue of our work
in the salt of our sweat
we earn this essence
we are what we are in the smallness of our hidden worlds
the gods are sleeping the goddesses are dancing
we watch them and we are pleased
we all worship and adore them
that is glory enough
for all of us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Walk Has Made You a God
A slow and masterly walk has much prison,
And curtains must be draped around you
If you are so sensible and proud of this waking life.
I agree with this way of life, as it grows into a frenzy of achievement.
The higher achievers become like living deities,
As food for the upper gods, the ones with highest nature.
Your walk is sudden in the eyes of the gods and goddesses,
As you appear in front of them in another continent,
Far away it is and lonely you are in the desert.
The God of Fire is angry, for it is called the Sun-God -
A miserable god of frenzy and ferocity, I can not take it!
It has burnt your skin, and sent dragons to destroy yourself.
Poor soul.
Forget the sun's heat and look to the god of understanding,
A man as well who looks at the science of walking and measures
Your soul as one to be like a god.
You have achieved immortality, at best.
poem by Naveed Akram
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(Forgiveness Poem/Story) A Miraculous Healing
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
It's as if the wounds were never even there.
How is that even possible?
I saw the stabbing.
He should have died.
But yet he's alive.
Somehow he did survive.
Some say it is a pact of lies.
But I know the truth.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
A story of the fortunate.
The luck of the Irish.
It was a just miss.
A little to the right.
A little to the left.
And he wouldn't exist.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
A bloody blade.
With thoughts of a accomplishment drinking down some expensive chardonnay.
If he only knew.
The secrets of the autumn dew.
The water drips of the truth.
But it will never be heard by those who aren't looking with their heart.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Some souls can never be stolen.
No matter how much one tries.
Corruption within the eyes.
Some souls can never be awoken.
A noose yet waits to be tied.
With in a smoke of mirror images it hides.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Such an awesome feeling.
To know he yet lives.
How can he ever forgive such actions?
Hate does bring some satisfaction.
If only for a moment of self gratification.
Destination unknown, but now you are alone.
Facing the truth of what your attempt really did.
Guilt bares no mercy on those who know it by its first name.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
Mercy me.
Gods to the infinity.
A miraculous healing.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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In The Name Of Lust
Do not eat any reptile and,
Heavy drinking of any sort is prohibited over here;
For, the carnal minds of mankind are full of lies.
Keep your marriages intact!
For, none of the religions carry the True Name of the Creator;
However, we are bombarded daily with many religions claiming to tell the truth.
Do not eat or drink blood!
And, do not be under the control of the gods and goddesses;
For, the atonement of our sins is like the babies of teenage mothers.
The life of teenage girls and boys,
Learning from their parents to make a change;
But, how much perfect can they be if, their parents themselves are off the tracks? ! !
Of the carnal minds and,
Of the lust of this world;
Of the keys of hell and,
Of the doors of the graves!
You've left your first lover and now you are with another;
And like the teenage pregnancies worldwide.
Do not cure the deaf,
Do not cure your parents or your teachers,
Do not eat things sacrificed to the gods and the goddesses! !
For, one day you will pay for your sins.
The fruit os death,
The love os sin by many!
And like the beds of fornication and adultery;
But, it is very sad that, the dragon is worshipped today than the Creator! !
And, many are already lost in the name of lust.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ode to an Indian Classical Dancer
O thou fair nymph of art, dance
Dance that world may dance with you.
In thy grace is mirrored the grace
Of thy nation's heritage;
In thy gait is depicted the majesty
of thy God's incarnates;
In thy grimaces are revealed
The wrath of gods, the misery of thine own folk;
In thy curves are betrayed the curves
Of thy nations sculptural art.
Art hath taught thou to blend-
What time hath failed to destroy-
In thy grace gait and grimace
The invocations to the Gods
Of thy miserable countrymen.
Miserable countrymen? I begin to doubt
May be, may not be so
But invocations all the same
To appease the wrathful lords.
Hath time no meaning for art?
It hath, else why shouldn't a dancer dance
Of invocations only.
Time hath changed and so hath art
Changed its modus operandi.
Even so art exploreth
Inmost recesses of human heart
These have been same
since years and years and years ago
Time hath no influence there.
O thou timeless priceless creature, dance
Dance that world may dance with you..........[1960]
Forever Graceful
for her id travel far and wide as far as her love could tke me to the darkest of places to restore faIth and honor among everything esle she like the light that brightens my soul an leads me off into distant twilight id go thru and fear no evil anything and everything good is her she knows how make one feel super even if he is alone lost and confused maybe she always sparkle and shine and never beanything less jus always good and may she always be remembereed always now and forever more into infinity and above in the distant heavens may u always have a place with the gods and goddesses for u are sweet as sugar and nicer then bad ur love is graceful
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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No Future In Yesterday
There's somebody next door waiting for you,
But do put your money where your mouth is;
And i promised to marry you.
40 years of the sins of the Gods and the Goddesses,
For Satan is now married to the Gods!
But i will find a way to meet you my love.
Life is like a funny tale,
And you've hidden your sweet love from me;
But there's no future in yesterday,
Because there's somebody next door waiting for you.
I am like the Planet of Seeds,
So try to open up your door when i do knock;
For there's no future in yesterday!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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