An Image Springs to Mind
An image springs to mind:
A child, with childish innocence
upon the shores of life, inclined
to play, without pretence
or mask. Or, if a mask there be,
it still retains a quality
allowing all with empathy to penetrate behind.
An image springs to mind:
So freely see the child dispense
the sifting sand, so unrefined,
with slight apparent sense.
It takes some perspicacity
to see each grain is memory -
dispersed or treasured as may be - quicksilverly defined.
An image springs to mind:
The shifting sands are implements
used differently by different blind
for good or ill intents immense.
Some knowledge is acquired for free,
transmitted some, instinctively,
the balance, finely tuned as we progress or slip behind.
An image springs to mind:
The grain in youth packed tight and dense
Age often loosens, cannot bind, -
how great the difference!
If we could meet mortality
with every thought recorded, we
could help those after us to see the answers we can’t find.
An image springs to mind:
These answers must, in self defence,
be hid from those who’d grind Mankind,
enslaving innocence.
Both Time and Knowledge thus should be
weaved secret in Life’s mystery
from here until eternity - or so it seems designed...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes
Sleep
I can't describe the feeling when
I'm in my bed asleep and then
I wake up with a vision blurred
And all my efforts are detered
To reconstruct this image lost
There're certain things my mind must do
and even though they're very few
The image glistens like a gem
Repairing is not one of them
So I'm awake though in my mind
The image thats so unrefined
is calling to me from the deep
and tempting me to fall asleep
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The age of image.
The people who know you
Are the canvas on which
Your image, good or bad,
Is drawn rightly or not.
Mind! The image you built
Will die with the canvas
When it’s torn or worn out.
Yet, each one wants an image.
Don't we desire leaving
A child for our copy,
which will not last long though?
02.01.2009.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mankind will not believe it,
Mankind will not believe it,
Mankind will not believe it when the Glory come's,
The Image is defined and we are all free,
Upon the Image Iam not losing that Taste of the Infinite,
Meaning is all Clear and Image well defined,
Mankind will not believe it when they see the Sign of God,
His Love is the Liberating a Soul and a Remedy,
Teach me Grace that I may Flow with these Words,
When the Kingdom of God hast come Mankind will not believe it since they all be Commiting Felonies.
poem by Maxim Muyu
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A Question About Art
Our world forgets – has never known, perhaps –
that questions are a treasured magic wand:
the question asked, the answer may, most like, come freshly said
out of a space that’s new alike to teacher and to taught;
your question is today – how factual should I leave
my verse, or should I seek to ‘colour’ it with metaphor? …
this image comes to mind: ‘old master’ in his studio,
famed painter of Madonnas with attendant Child;
demand’s incessant; so he draws the outlines in,
and passes on the canvas to his studio hand;
coloured then, maybe he adds the master’s touch of life -–
the smile of angel’s sweetness on the Madonna’s face;
the glimpse of future in the Christ Child’s eyes;
and off it goes to some great patron’s church,
to comfort all of womanhood in woes and joys,
its colours gleaming candlelit in sacred prayer;
and yet, how connoisseurs may treasure that quick sketch
on scrap of hand-made paper, where the very touch
of sanguine chalk or silverpoint, reveal the immediate mind
of that old master, as it found the new track of the line;
the world will praise, admire, your coloured image of Her face;
but She will see, in pencilled sketch, how love springs from her grace..
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Image
Written by: richard marx & fee waybill
Hope you dont believe a word
Of all the things I know youve heard about me
Really just a pack of ies
You see the truth before your eyes around me
Hard to keep it straight
The real from the ruse
Probably way too late
What can I do, but its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Would it be too much to ask
That you could just gvie me the chance to prove it
Or would it only be a waste of time
To try to make you change your mind and use it
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
What Ive been looking for
Isnt what I thought
Not behind the golden door
Youre all Ive got, and its
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
Not what you think
Not what you hear
Not what you see
Its just the image
Its all on a string
All fantasy
Not really me
Its just the image
song performed by by Richard Marx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mystery Of Word Divine. by Ray Subrata
Thought feeling and sense,
Seek entrance.
With image and idea divine.
Through word, they reflect and shine.
The greater the Being is agile,
The brighter the words it trails
On stations of mind’s cultivation
Words get empowered with motion.
Here it elevates the mind, there it clouds
Here it spreads ardor, there joy it alouds.
It takes its journey from the mind’s periodic table,
And exposes, image and pictures, like a television cable.
poem by Bazi alis Subrata Ray
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Give Me Image
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
How else can it be expected,
I keep my pretensions alive and thriving?
Do not rid from me my freedom,
To exist living for images I see fit to project.
I can not bare the acceptance of the reality...
Thrown in my face I am suppose to respect!
Give me image!
Do not strip me of my need,
To seek quality delusions to please, eat and feed.
Give me image.
So that I may feel free,
To live in the midst of unending fantasies.
And aspects of threatening truth...
Disturbs my mentality!
As I witness it pursue the awakening of masses.
Pass me my rose colored glasses, please!
Enough!
Enough of this...
Self righteous ambiguity!
Give me image.
I have yet to have enough,
Of this 'truth-as-I-see-it-life-I-live'.'.
Give me image.
Let those images forever in my mind,
Find within me reason to exist!
Give me image.
And enough...
Enough of this,
Self righteous ambiguity.
Fed by those seeking consciousness.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Spectral Images, Images of the Light
I am no more than a thought
spinning itself through god's mind
no more than a memory of what was
an experience of the present
a visionary glimpse into the future
I am no more than a spectral image
image of the light
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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Remember Me, The Child! Michael Jackson: In His Own Words!
Remember me, the child!
Look past the man, deep into the innocence of my eyes
A towering giant of a man before I was grown
Still, searching for the childhood I have never known
Have you seen my childhood, the innocence of my age?
Remember me, the child! A life devoid of its shade!
Remember me, the child!
The child, forced to grow up long before his time
The evil had landed; life, I was outdone
Haunted by the image of the man I have become
A life less wanted, with an ever mounting cost
Remember me, the child! I tried to beat it, but lost
Remember me, the child!
Follow on this journey into the mystery of my life
Dark shadows and buried secrets, controversies reigned
Unable to grow up, mines was more of torture, and pains
Enslaved by the demands of a vindictive ideal
Remember me, the child! The horrors of my ordeal!
Remember me, the child!
A thriller of epic melodies, I sang the songs of life
I danced my way into hearts with a musical rage
Transcended every border, the world was my stage
I bridged the racial, cultural divide, my talent defined me
Remember me, the child! The music, my legacy!
Remember me, the child!
Look past the image, into the innocence of my eyes
Walk with me in an adventure down memory lane
See what it costs to wear the honor of my name
I may be bad, with an attitude, still, I am who I am
Remember me, the child! The legacy, the man!
Remember me, the child!
Like a burnt of flame, there is no more light
The journey has ended, it took flight with wings
In the twinkling of an eye, gone with the wind
The blossom is no longer a flowering bloom
Remember me, the child! Sadly, gone too soon!
It Takes A Mind To Stop All Wars
Bloated with promoted poses,
Upheld and exposed.
And...
Picked to be the ones depicted,
To combat and end conflicts.
Images portraying bravery,
Do not end the fears...
Of the ones who have the looks,
But use them to pretend.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace to leave.
Bloated with promoted poses,
Upheld and exposed.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace to leave.
And not a muscled image given,
To give and pretend.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace to leave.
Bloated with promoted poses,
Upheld and exposed.
And...
Picked to be the ones depicted,
To combat and end conflicts...
Are the ones predicting,
There is a victory to get.
But forget...
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace.
It takes a mind to stop all wars.
And not a muscled image given.
Minds will stop all wars,
If the cause is for peace to leave.
If...
The cause is for peace to leave.
If the cause is for peace...
To leave.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Many Do Have Their Doubts About This
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
What and 'Who' we refer to as being God...
Is more than just an image.
We are 'cells' within a Mind,
So magnificent...
This 'Greatness' has chosen,
To keep our own minds blind.
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
Like fruit picked from a tree.
Or from a vine to peel.
Under the skin...
That's where the deliciousness,
Carried within us is revealed.
And the trees support us with air to breathe.
We take for granted,
The ease presented by this complexity.
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
And 'something' tells me very soon...
We are going to learn much more,
About our existence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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When I was young, my mindset was image, image, image. I took that approach with the media. As I became more experienced I realized: No matter what, people are going to like you or not like you. So be authentic, and let them like you or not for who you actually are. At that point, I started keeping all of my answers blunt and straightforward. I would mix in some humor and sarcasm, too. I think fans and reporters came to appreciate that, came to appreciate the real me.
quote by Kobe Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In Sequence
some poems are not perfect
because the mind and the heart
fail meet eye to eye
usually it is the mind that fails
to deliver, going to where it
does not belong failing
the disciplinary test
the heart begs everything to be
in place, so that
the world can amplifly
itself to her as she interpretes
the input word by word, image by image
- in correct sequence
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Spa (Hot Springs)
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Old maids sit in trolley cars
Up and down the busy streets
Young men strum on blue guitars
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Pilgrims gather at the sump
To fill their homely samovars
With rusty liquid from a pump
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Sidewalk touts hawk lemonade
In the park policemen wink
At winos on the promenade
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Artist hacks in residence
Paint the sun on velvet, black
For kings and former presidents
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Chinese men play dominos
In rooms where on another day
A tart pulls on her pantyhose
In the spa city of Hot Springs
Healing waters tip the pail
As ponies gather at the gate
To chase each other’s pony tail.
poem by Alan Hickman
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Dedicated to Hesse's Goldmund
The old master sat,
withering like winter’s flowers
as he shrank -
from encroaching onslaught of creeping death.
He had watched many shapes and faces, so held
shimmering vision on virile edge of his mind.
Afterwards thoughts never ceased to plague
in every shape, a certain form repetition of line.
I think matters not what one thought or speaks.
but what we shape with willing hands before time.
So from fetal dream began careful drawing
with loving fingers, clearer its shape defined.
To picture wondrous root of image making; grief transmuted -
seeking to formulate thoughts; the sharper to bind.
Envisaged image was a perfect whole
without flaw, symmetry
sprung from life, from sacrosanct depths,
he held it within his mind.
Then cast it forth like a radiant jewel
many faceted,
even in darkness,
in faintest light it will shine.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Hope Springs Eternal
(graham russell)
Pictures of you race across my mind
Filling all the space there is to find
Melting loves own ice that lay so frozen
I give that sacrifice for feeling chosen
So if I face another day without you next to me
Ill lock you in my mind and wish away the key
(chorus)
Hope springs eternal when your near
All the passion reappears
All emotions seems so strong
Hope springs eternal thru your eyes
Draws me closer to your side
And keeps me there where I belong
Given back the trust that was so fleeting
Captured by the one my heart was seeking
Taken to my destinys horizon
Searching for the moon we see it rising
And in the silence of the night, I hold you next to me
Feeling dreams take flight, they set the spirit free
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anticipation
Springs in the air, can’t you smell it?
To me the scent can’t be explained
So it makes no sense in trying.
All I know is springs on its way.
Whenever that familiar scent
Arouses these nostrils of mine
It automatically triggers
A colorful, dreamlike collage
In my anticipating mind;
Muted and inanimate till
The first robin redbreast warbles
Its early morning springtime song.
So, in the meantime, I languor
In this feeling called spring fever.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Daisies Bloom In Autumn's Wood
In my image I perceive
The young child of mystery
As the wind combs gentle my long hair
To innocence flows a care-free air
And time's changes clearly show
As the shadows cast their eerie glow
For rainbows are wrought by His hands
The Sandman's kiss has left it's sand
Wrinkles of cause as years will pass
The sand still sifts in the hourglass
For with joy I find reborn, a spring
And in my summer I smile and sing
For daisies bloom in Autumn's wood
My life is blessed with motherhood
As children run and climb their way
Innocence shines that gentle ray
I see myself in you again
The fairy-tales of youth refrain
Please spare the wrinkles and the mist
Again, I believe in the Sandman's kiss.
poem by Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel Black
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The Hunter's Even-Song
THE plain with still and wand'ring feet,
And gun full-charged, I tread,
And hov'ring see thine image sweet,
Thine image dear, o'er head.
In gentle silence thou dost fare
Through field and valley dear;
But doth my fleeting image ne'er
To thy mind's eye appear?
His image, who, by grief oppress'd,
Roams through the world forlorn,
And wanders on from east to west,
Because from thee he's torn?
When I would think of none but thee,
Mine eyes the moon survey;
A calm repose then steals o'er me,
But how, 'twere hard to say.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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You own a watch the invention of the mind, though for a single motion 'tis designed, as well as that which is with greater thought with various springs, for various motions wrought.
quote by Richard Blackmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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