Surrealism
surrealism
at work
artists with their shades;
misty morn,
vapours descending
everywhere,
punctuated by
droplets
on leaves,
satiny collections
of a divine provision
from above for
those lost souls
who yearn for
things simple
such as this
to crown
their poetic heart
with a song
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Mist
Surrealism
At work
Inspiring myriad
Artists with their shades;
Misty morn,
Vapours descending
Everywhere,
Punctuated by
Droplets on
Leaves,
Satiny collections
Of a divine provision
From above for
Those lost souls
Who yearn for
Things simple
Such as this
To crown
Their poetic heart
With a song
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Buddha
Buddha's thoughts found its roots at the
Bodhi tree, budded and bloomed into
A thousand flowers blown to all corners
Of the world converting myriad thoughts of
Adherents repainting
The fabric of religions analoguous
To artists who style the world
In shades of Impressionism, Cubism,
Surrealism and Realism.
Through Zen, a meditation discipline
Where masters could even tell through his ears
Which hand a disciple uses in knocking a door,
Ramayana where spirits of the heavens crowd
The world to help sin-ladened souls escape
The grim cycles of reincarnations;
Fate of souls also fooled by the movement
Of the universe spawning superstitions.
And Theravada where each being sanctions
His own hell or heaven through deeds.
The Buddha sees and listens to all in quiet repose
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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did God accept your resignation letter?
You seek resignation from the company of life
did you submit it to God? And did he accept it?
Years ago i sent mine and it was rejected
For He said, in his universal company of life there is no resignation
His words were not many
Not really poetic as we wanted Him to be
But plain
And simple.
Did he say he loves you?
Well, he told me and then out of that I learned a lot.
I work for no pay. I work for no reward. I work for no honor.
It was simple and not poetic at all.
He just touched with his wind and then I become so alive
No death since then has spoken a word for me.
I look at myself in the mirror.
I have seen how i have grown.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Well there is a lot of work here for younger and older musicians now. Our Ministry of Culture has now really embarked on changing things for artists, and it is getting much better. We just have to organize ourselves as artists, and then things will be better.
quote by Miriam Makeba
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As many joys as there are pains.
The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There are trees having given me shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to only one is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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As many joys as there are sorrows.
The mango tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
The jack tree gave me fruits and shades.
I was sad when I left.
Likewise were a few more trees
That gave me different fruits and shades.
There’re trees having given me only shades.
I was sad when I left them in sequence.
Each sensation was punctuated by a stroke.
Each parting gave me a heart break.
Unions beget joys and partings, sorrows.
Sorrows follow because joys preceded.
The one who sticks to one love is unfortunate.
19.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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My lonely Palm tree
A leaf of the palm, borne as a symbol of victory
But you are isolated like me,
Though we are tall like a Watchtower yet cannot touch the pallid sky.
You have a simple stem and terminal crown of large leaves.
But I am uprooted in the saga and and my broken crown pawned for a song.
Dedication to the deceased Marxist Sri Lankan celebrated singer *Gunadasa.Kapuge
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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A Proper Focus
When we focus on what we see, our mind’s not focused on Eternity,
On those eternal things above, that we receive, through God’s Love.
Things we focus on here below, earthly things, we’ve come to know,
Can fill our heart with undue fear, when we limit our focus down here.
For our focus turns into concern, and a heart inside begins to yearn,
But not prompted by pleasantries, but, the heart filled with anxieties,
About the things we can’t control, while worry begins to take its toll,
With concerns far above our realm, a heart will just be overwhelmed.
Our concerns cannot be all ignored, but, must be given to The Lord,
Who sits above Heavenly realms, and our concerns He overwhelms.
With His Eternal Authority over all, earthly concerns to Him are small,
And in His time, I need to learn, He handles each and every concern.
Concerns, when they overwhelm us, lead us away from simple trust,
The simple faith we place in Him, when Christ saved us from our sin.
Through our trial, God gets Glory, as it was in Israel’s Exodus story,
Even with Pharaoh’s hardened heart, came a Glory that didn’t depart.
Today, our eyes should always be, focused on The Lord of Eternity,
The same one who delivered Israel, will work in our life His good will,
Today take on His yoke that’s light, for what He does, He does right,
To work out His purpose in the life, of all who belong to Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
Two Lost Souls
Surrounded by a sea of black.
Not knowing how to find the things they lack.
Two lost souls that need true love.
Noone understands these complex beings.
Their wants and needs far exceed than than others can read.
They cannot see the depth which bounds within them,
they'd get lost among the trees.
Two lost souls that need eachothers trust,
but opportunity has passed things rough.
They need to see,
they need to touch.
Upon these things that they must trust,
to make the thrust into a future robust.
They search and search,
forever seeming stuck in a lurch.
They get to know others,
finding noone they trust.
Overall compatabillity seems a bust.
Two lost souls that continue to dream.
Of the one that can help them find acceptance and pride.
Two lost souls that forever will search,
till they find eachother they know it will work.
To have and to hold,
give all their secrets behold.
Two lost souls who are ready to give,
they've seen it all there's no reason to live.
Then one day by chance in the park.
They looked at eachother ignited a spark.
Two lost souls had found what they need.
A fullfilling destiny that will fill all their need.
True loveand hope that binds them together,
eternal souls with love that causes thunder.
An unbreakable bond to last the ages.
A brand new book filled with empty pages.
Their story is grand and yet to be written.
For eachother smitten.
poem by Michael McParland
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Music is the divine way to tell beautiful, poetic things to the heart.
quote by Pablo Casals
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Surrealism had a great effect on me because then I realised that the imagery in my mind wasn't insanity. Surrealism to me is reality.
quote by John Lennon
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Instead of stubbornly attempting to use surrealism for purposes of subversion, it is necessary to try to make of surrealism something as solid, complete and classic as the works of museums.
quote by Salvador Dali
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The Poems Have Lost Their Way
THE POEMS HAVE LOST THEIR WAY
The poems have lost their way-
They have become simple statements of feeling,
Flat and plain
Dull and one- dimensional.
The poems have become non- poetic,
And yet I write them still.
For what do I have now in writing
But my poetry?
And who knows if they do not
In their simple way
Say something to others
Meaningful to them?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Sonnet: God Is Our Master And Guide
The work of God is strange in its outcome;
He knows the needs of every soul He made;
He hears our calls though He may look so dumb;
And guides all hearts to do the things He bade.
However much a man may slog in life,
Things cannot happen without God’s consent;
He tests each heart and soul with joys and strife;
The good on earth we do is Heaven’s rent.
God’s chosen souls can’t ever from Him veer,
From righteousness, if God wants them all near;
He knows the hearts even before we think;
He knows the song even before the ink.
All souls to God must finally comply;
Queries of God, We must someday reply.
poem by John Celes
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Voice Of My Heart
A poetic song, a serious song
Songs from over the sea.
A star was born on the very morn
You sang on our anniversary...
Love Songs just for me.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Robin
Thou need'st not flutter from thy half-built nest,
Whene'er thou hear'st man's hurrying feet go by,
Fearing his eye for harm may on thee rest,
Or he thy young unfinished cottage spy;
All will not heed thee on that swinging bough,
Nor care that round thy shelter spring the leaves,
Nor watch thee on the pool's wet margin now
For clay to plaster straws thy cunning weaves;
All will not hear thy sweet out-pouring joy,
That with morn's stillness blends the voice of song,
For over-anxious cares their souls employ,
That else upon thy music borne along
And the light wings of heart-ascending prayer
Had learned that Heaven is pleased thy simple joys to share.
poem by Jones Very
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Who Is that Sing in me!
All the time listen to that great singer,
The great song, great lyrics sung with great melody,
Someone sings in me and everyone,
' I am you and you are me,
Come and see, we are one! '
But how in this turbulent flow of life,
Is it true, everyone listen this?
Some say caged bird sings,
Some say it is song of soul,
Some say it has a song and it sings,
some try to listen it, some say, when I have my own song how can I listen it?
Fantastic song it is, it the song of the divine,
Song of a dreamer, song of the captain of life,
some listen to it and forget what they are,
Some listen to it and follow the singer,
Some only try to find,
who is the singer,
Only a few can see the singer,
Look at the singer, listen the song,
Where one will be when absorbed by that divine song,
The song that enchanted me
The song that enchant everyone,
It is the God that sings,
' Ah, come to me,
Oh my child, wakeup from dream,
In this dream you are playing,
You are thinking, that you play at things,
wakeup and see, it is I am that playing!
Your sorrows are mine,
My sorrows are yours,
your body is not that cage,
It is my own temple, where I am playing my
own game! '
'Where you want to go,
You are not caged anytime
You only restricted yourself
Building a cage, you yourself sat inside
Then closed the door of cage
And that is the foolishness separated us'
'Oh dear child open the door at least that of window
of heart!
You went on sail, setting your own map,
But lured by various destinations,
One better than another, lost the plan and map,
Wonder and wander
here and there for
millions of years,
But had you listened my eternal song,
That has all maps and information,
You would have been with me as per the schedule
Only your own fall to attraction,
You lost your bag and baggage,
Whenever you lost that, you acquired new one,
But none of the bag had no map,
This time you are with the right one,
Right map, Radio, T.V., intranet and internet,
Just turn to me tuning to my station
Switching to my protocol and IP address,
Click at the linK
You feel, all fall and pain,
you find medicine outside
your ego,
Just cleanse It with tears of love,
Just apply cream of faith, go to work with head phones on in your ears,
Go to work which bring peace! '
'Where you are always free,
Don't kill my spirit, only come and sing with me,
My eternal song, come with me,
Oh my child, I am you and you are me,
Let us be one and sing, we are one in love,
We are always were not different,
We make our voice strong and loud so that,
Captains of missing ships can listen us,
Be my relay station helping my song to reach all! '
This is that song,
that eternal song,
sung by Almighty
in every heart!
The heart is chorus,
Is that source
Where He built
His temple and not a
cage to keep singing bird
in captivity or exile!
I am that his son now realised
I am that foolish
ungrateful son
put that infinite
eternal well wisher,
Melodious singer
My own father
Behind the bars!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Ghost Echo
That which was
is and always will be.
Nothing is ever lost.
Everything
that ever was
created
still exists
somewhere
sometime.
In misty
starlit
shades of time.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Lost My Crown
The day I lost my mind
Was the day you left for good
All the love that was left behind
Wouldn’t bring you back if it could
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
All I have left is a kingdom of pain
Where I lost more than I found
I can’t seem to understand
Why you loved me less
It wasn’t part of the plan
To make my heart a royal mess
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
All my dreams are shattered
All my treasures don’t shine anymore
I can’t believe I never mattered
All I can hear is the slamming of the door
I lost my reign
I lost my crown
Don’t need any riches where I’m bound
Tears will fill my throne till I drown
poem by Alfred Ramos
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Simple Water Droplets
simple water droplets
small moist neutral
insignificant in size
water droplets
start to spin swirl wind speeds
build birth hurricanes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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