Alphabet Spaces
In my mind rambles
ideas which seek to unscramble
and grant me crystal clear consistency
but the more I try to wrangle
ideas about Physics and Religion
the more they metamorphosize
into same and similar.
The more I learn about anything
the less I know about the whole
of any and all disciplines;
so I succumb to debates about
T's and I's
while forgetting my alphabet.
For example, if I take my own name
and examine it minutely,
space and letter
nano-space by nano-space
I cannot ever
see a whole word or letter.
Therefore, I come away nameless and confused.
So if I wish to learn the whole
of any disciple or subject-area
I have learned
best not to get too smart about
the spaces between the alphabets.
Yet, and this my conundrum, no letter
is ever apparent
unless there are spaces between Alpha and Omega.
So, too, music is a relationship between the sound and the silences-
too much music or sound is ultimately just noise or silence.
So in my mind rambles all these inconsistencies-
what about yours?
So we have the letters of an alphabet, and the spaces in between the letters
which are necessary to understand the words they form and from these empty spaces in between, much like silence and sound form music.
From this relationship we form the words and ultimately sentences, but note sentences alone do not form coherent paragraphs or pages for that matter and ultimately a book.
So what is the moral here? Pay attention to the background as well as the foreground, the seen and unseen since only from these relationships can we glean, true meaning:
too much concentration on the latter, and we miss the meaning embedded in the former.
True creativity means we are versatile in both and it is also the perfect metaphor for the differences and similarities between Science and Religion.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Related quotes
A Word
If I make a word
it is first sculpted from letters
on the page
a canvass across which
letters skate
from margin to margin transforming
into meanings and sentences
which give us art, science, poetry
and civilization.
This is created from an arbitrary entity,
the scratchings we call letters
which in turn form yet another
mysterious entity we call the alphabet.
What manner of miracle is this?
All of civilization is born from
these scribbly scratchings?
So if each letter is an imaginary entity,
an arbitrary symbol we made up
which has no meaning by itself
and lives inside another arbitrary entity
we call the alphabet
we may properly ask
what is going on here?
Meaning here is deriving from an arbitrary nothingness
arbitrarily created from arbitrary letters
by virtue of common agreement around
what words will mean?
Ponder this:
we too, as individuals are letter unique
and, in our variety, form a kind of human alphabet.
What we all mean and can mean to each other
therefore depends upon the words we form
in our families and communities; our human alphabets.
So, one word letters such as 'I' are too self-regarding
and are narcissistic anomalies
not true words at all.
Better words have more syllables than that
and have enabled us to form social sentences
more complex
which we can use for good or ill
peace or war, love or hate.
So watch your words and sentences
don't swing them recklessly in a crowded room
you'll put somebody's mind out
or create genius.
Big responsibility this
especially for us poets.
So in the end
in mass society
you and I are a single letter
but combined create all there is.
You can take that
as the first
and last
Word
And by the way
arbitrary letters
are electrons at the sub-atomic level
and combine to make molecules
and the greatest meaning of all
All of the Universe.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Writting
When i feel lost lonely and have nowhere to go,
the words keep me company and im a loner no more,
Letters come together in my minds free flowing from my
heart,
Two letters one letter many letters make up words,
Long words short word
bring up sentences that form up,
my concious wades throught them picking seeking to join
short and long and make it work,
No rules to my word play anything u want can stay a
concortion a work of art,
Am lost in emotions,
lost in expressions,
pronouns adjectives and nouns,
Lay them straight,
hang them down they still are need a flow to make a sweet
sound,
The rhyme,
the time is put into consideration when iplay with all my words,
My best friend is my pen, my paper and my head there is no limit to what i can,
Its a poem am at it a work of art in progress i love the work
of my hands...
poem by Kennedy Musyoka
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The Dark Side of the Coin
“‘Space, the bound of a solid’: Silence, then, the form of a melody.” - Alice Meynell
I surrender Myself to the dark.
Disappearing in the consummate blackness,
I send up a non-thought to Absolute Silence,
All spaces and the in-between –
To unfathomable frontiers.
I fall down on my knees before the
Celestial sculptors of Reality:
Space, Silence and the in-between;
Their punctuation of Experience
Makes a dwelling place for Dreams
Just as Silence composes a symphony,
Shapes the course of its melody –
Praise nihility!
poem by Danielle Moffat
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The Dark Side of the Coin
“‘Space, the bound of a solid’: Silence, then, the form of a melody.” - Alice Meynell
I surrender Myself to the dark.
Disappearing in the consummate blackness,
I send up a non-thought to Absolute Silence,
All spaces and the in-between –
To unfathomable frontiers.
I fall down on my knees before the
Celestial sculptors of Reality:
Space, Silence and the in-between;
Their punctuation of Experience
Makes a dwelling place for Dreams
Just as Silence composes a symphony,
Shapes the course of its melody –
Praise nihility!
poem by Danielle Moffat
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Choose Any Game Except Reality Responsibility
take time time spend your time
spend your time to achieve what?
time is a precious sacred gift
a gift if used for true worship
for deep thought meditation
time is a dimensional illusion
time is not filled with freedom
time is filled with work necessity
time is filled with responsibility
time learning growing adaptability
time is bending of material form
to our will let water in pipes flow
let electricity power our machines
let electricity illuminate our nights
let wisdom exercise machine mind
dimensional will mind bending space
time thought is vast limitless spacious
for those who seek answers silences
on line gamers seek flash noise fillers
a moth flies through their ears heads
moth flying through head space invaders
filling all empty spaces with sound games
on line gamers escape interaction think not
time flush down drains steal communication
choose any game except reality responsibility
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Without A Promise
On the eve of dawn,
The words seem to scramble,
Forging their own messages,
Their own secrets.
The words are lying,
Leaving the pages scandalously clad.
A letter to remember;
The letters so empty.
The words have no meaning,
They rest as empty shells,
For metaphor upon metaphor.
poem by Daniel Yetman
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A Fact Of My Life
I am always rewinding things
To hear what was missed between
The spaces between the spaces...
Words that were not spoken
Wonderful things never said
But were going through my mind
Like a hard rubber ball
Bouncing between the walls
Of the spaces between the walls....
Echoes reverberate
With incessant sound
Of inarticulate voices...
Incomprehensible
Maddening hollow sounds
Crash against walls of hollow sounds...
Which drive me to madness
Trying to coexist
In a world outside me...
In which hollow sounds
Resound against crashed walls
Of rewinding empty spaces....
That is my life
What else can I say....
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Surreality
Empty space, time and dimensions
A place Where clocks have no value
and time no meaning
A place in the mind
with no geographical measures and bonds
The province of fools
and those seeking redemption
Too much explanation,
too much rationalization,
And the world of empty ambition
from which there’s no rest
A place of chaos, confusion and panic
In the roseate brilliance from fiery forges
Or dim lit sky… bisected by silhouettes of birds
Where the pull of a thread
Unravels the sweater
And chains chatter coldly
Upon hollow flagpole
Where sands are etched in hieroglyphs
By footprints and talons
And smiles are as brittle as broom straws.
Wherein your pulse is akin
To the sound of a kettledrum
A drear place where sharks circle
With cold patient eyes
And the music is the creaking
Of weather bleached windmills
Tilted in terminal space
Of shadows pooled in dark, dank places
And lights, like both blades of razors, and
Glows of candles in graveyards at night
Slick pools of greasy mirages,
Places of light smudged with fog
Empty spaces….Endless time
Infinite dimensions…
…of time and spaces…
poem by David Whalen
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Was, Is And Will Be
‘All that was, is and will be unto end of time, is in the
Torah, from first to last word: details of species, each
individual, all that happened from birth to death'
The old Hebrew version of the Old Testament is a
crossword puzzle computer program, a Bible code;
skip fifty letters in sequences to find the term Torah
at the beginning of Genesis, Exodus, Numbers
and Deuteronomy
The universe a cryptogram set by the Almighty;
the Bible a time-lock opened by computer, code-
breakers found the names, dates and cities of 66
wise men encoded together in a network criss-
crossing Bible text
No spaces between words - 304 805 letters - in a
continuous line: start on first letter, search names,
words and phrases, skip 1,2,3,4 - X letters; start
on second letter, repeat the process and continue
up to last letter
Find key words & related facts encoded together,
matching words in close proximity, length of skips
between search words to be small, interlocking
words reveal related information in Bible text
only, not in millions of test cases
Bible provides infinite information, related words in
cross-word puzzles cross vertically, horizontally and
diagonally; meets quantum physics theory of unlimited
probability and possibility - I shall never fear
boredom again
Armed with this computer program which resembles
notes of music in never-ending configurations - as
unique as snowdrops and fingerprints; no wonder
everything is contained and explained therein -
as to meaning and origin:
Existence manifests as an intelligent, loving energy
which illustrates quantum physics principles and
relativity in a great testament to creation!
[The Bible Code, Michael Drosnin, Weidenfeld &
Nicolson,1997 -
Quotes from pp.19 - 25]
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Value Of Words
Words what value words
when spoken in haste
what is their worth
words spat in spite
or an envious game
false words meaningless
what value words
a trusting word
honest and open speaks
volumes when listen to
without agenda given
with care and thought
placed into its being
what becomes its worth
words in variety
of context and meaning
fill blank spaces
where sometimes silence
is a more welcome sound
where nothing is better said
words have a value
consider their worth
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Curiosity Spaces Deeply Sought
human
nature
investigates
all
beckoning
spaces
outer space
inner space
time spaces
searching
seeking
reasons
staring
back
in the mirror
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Alphabet Lost And Found
On this fateful day, in the history of whenever,
An epidemic of missing letters has swept the land.
Whatever the cause, for the sake of future generations,
In the limited time we have been permitted, these stories must be told.
There was an apple that lost his 'a'
There was a zebra that lost his 'z'
There was a chauffeur that left his 'auffer' on the dashboard
Of the car that lost its 'r'
Well, the car had lost its 'r' in a pothole
On a street that lost its 'e'
When the garbage collector with a missing 'ector' swept it up
With a broom that lost its 'oom'
Where they gonna go without their letters?
How could they survive without their letters?
Where they gonna go to find their letters?
They gonna have to get together-
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet lost and found)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet lost and found)
There was a school that lost its 'cool'
when they tired to ring the bell that had no 'l'
With all the letters gone, the spelling bee was canceled
Science teachers had their hands full
English classes could not be complete
Where they gonna go without their letters?
How could they survive without their letters?
Where they gonna go to find their letters?
They gonna have to get together
Where they gonna go without their letters?
How could they survive without their letters?
Where they gonna go to find their letters?
They gonna have to get together
Crowds of people, animals, and incomplete words have been seen at a previously unknown place to be referred to as-
The alphabet lost and found (alphabet lost and found)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet lost and found)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet lost and found) (how could they survive without their letters)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet and lost found) (they gonna have to get together)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet and lost found) (they gonna have to get together)
At the alphabet lost and found (alphabet and lost found) (they gonna have to get together)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My poems is not Poetry
My Poems are not Poetry
Poetry rhythm is essential part
Communicative act of rhythms
Where words created music
An effect on the reader’s and listener
Words beginning with the same letter
And achieve a poetically effect.
My Poems has no rhythms
For the first time I don’t know
What to say and how to show.
Many words is not my style
Let me say, I like your smile
I don’t think I should like you,
Unfortunately I do.
I'm not sure now how to write
I lost my idea how, where words
Are used in away similar
Creating Music, where you find
Languages of rhymes
I write Prose but not Poetry
Using a regular rhythm
Where vast majority
Of languages spoken and written.
I try to be a barn, the muses were believed and inspire
I try to hard without success,
you already know, I guess.
Anyhow, it doesn’t matter
Usually I do not write
Things like this, I never tried,
for the first time I don’t know
what these lines should say or show.
Allegory, metaphor equated
Meaning lie outside the narrative
Acrostic phase when read together
Alliteration words same letter for poetical effect
Satire is a form of humour
Limerick is a short humorous poem.
And Honestly, I don’t regret
Things I did and words I said.
7. January 2008
poem by Mary Wismer
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Sound As A Bench
Poetry should be mysterious as silence
and as sound as a bench
and as hard as a floor
so I read in poems
by Denise Levertov
Poets are like worms
building from their innards
castles of metaphor
She advises poets to relearn
the alphabet
from anguish and ardor
through somnolent grotto
to the flank of Pegasus
and home to the present
I learn more from one line
about the twelfth letter
of the alphabet
according to Levertov
than most of the stuff
other people have drilled
into me since puberty!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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What Is Music
What is music?
What is music?
Is music the languages that shoot out of my mouth and speak in silence?
Is music the moving of my lip according to my mind command?
What is music?
Music is the one two word that my mind put together in my mouth
Music is the airs that escape a snap of my violence teeth
Music is the wisdom sound my mind and mouth produce
Music is the combine sound that entertain my ear drum
What is music?
Music is a simple sound I verbalize to state my joyful soul
Music is the jingle that loosen my soul in time of desire
Music is the sounds that launch me to a free world
Music is the spirit that struggle in me
What is music?
Music is the sound I scream from my mouth to a free humanity
Music is a one two word I yell
Music is the lyric I cry to express my mental mind,
My beating heart
My jumping feet
My shouting soul
My sweating body
What is music?
Music is the rhythm of my voice, what is music? ?
poem by Robert Otim
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Empty Spaces
Once there were times love
When we could touch the air between
And out acroos this room
Wed just touch hands life would shine
With electric dreams.
No matter how many miles
Nothing hurt long-distance-hearts
And there was always something there
That space could never keep apart
But now I know inside that something is died
When were apart
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Its not like were building walls
Too hard to climb to make us blind
Its just so much numbing space
To hollow out the heart and mind
And I can hear echoes of ghosts of love
We left behind.
Ill always love april
We fell in love and we planted seeds
But now we walk through fallen trees
And leaves are crushed beneath
And I will always live in autumn
Now were agreed
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Ithought this was meant to be
Our love had an energy
But only as time evolved
And all of our strength dissolved
And well never feel the flame that burned so naked
Again.
I walk through kentish town
And all the rain rain pouring down
So many people here
But space like this Ive never found
And as I get back home and step inside
I realise all I have
All I have are
Empty spaces.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The War
There is a sound of thunder afar,
Storm in the south that darkens the day,
Storm of battle and thunder of war,
Well, if it do not roll our way.
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Be not deaf to the sound that warns!
Be not gull'd by a despot's plea!
Are figs of thistles or grapes of thorns?
How should a despot set men free?
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Let your Reforms for a moment go,
Look to your butts and make good aims.
Better a rotten borough or so,
Than a rotten fleet or a city of flames!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
Form, be ready to do or die!
Form in freedom's name and the Queen's!
True, that we have a faithful ally,
But only the devil knows what he means!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Wings Of Music
Music must have wings and float:
ignore all that it signifies,
for the importance of each note
should be apparent when it flies.
Don’t worry about music’s meaning:
its importance is its sound,
which, unless you’re overweening,
should lift you above the ground.
Music basically is like
that strange emotion we call love;
like it, we mustn’t let it psych
us out, but lift us high above.
Terry Teachout writes about Sir Thomas Beecham in Commentary, December 2008 (“Beecham! ”) :
[Beecham] believed that the purpose of music was to give pleasure to its listeners, not to improve their moral condition. “You critics are always writing about the meaning of music, the ethic, the Weltanschauung of the composer, and God knows what, ” he told Neville Cardus. “The whole point of music is that it should sound well. Never mind what it signifies. Music should have wings and float and give delight.”
12/4/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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A Music Beat
A constant beat forever scratches the back of my head
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
1,2,3,4
A constant rhythm to live by
To walk by
To talk by
Even to think by
Music has crawled into my brain
Nay my Body
Something that takes form
As I feed it
I feel it!
I am always hearing it!
It tickles my toes
It tingles my fingers
I feel it throughout my body
It permeates my very soul!
Music is more than a hobby
Music is almost more than a passion
Music is an addiction one and all must satisfy
But I feel that I succumb to it more than others
Yet it is not a bad thing, one cannot go through life without hearing music
Everyone is addicted to the enticing sounds of Music, no matter the form it takes;
The moment our ears taste the sound of music we crave more no matter the type;
Music is therapy for the soul
We listen to the music we feel our soul can relate to
But to create music is truly wonderful for you are not just showing your soul to the world;
One is pouring out one’s truest deepest emotions, that one cannot even express through words;
Creating music is taking a fruit and showing it to the world to prove that it is ripe;
poem by Aaron Burr
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You, to whom I am myself
O You Who Are - the formless, nameless One,
more real than all forms and names can speak:
You for whom we seek to find a name
and yet who has no name, who needs no name;
You for whom we seek to shape a form
and yet who has no form, who needs no form;
Yet whom we name in every name we speak,
and whom we see in every form we seek:
is there some name bestowed for nameless name,
a form imagined for a formless form,
by which all hearts today that seek themselves
may shape their search as if for One unknown?
may kneel in front of their own golden throne?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Hearts,
who’s spoken of in heartfelt praise of glorious human brilliance,
endeavour, art, achievement and discovery;
the Lord who gave us hearts to know we love?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Self,
whom we all know when we relax, become
more our known self, in silence, rest, or company
that sparkles round a table built of happiness?
Should we approach you as the Lord of Consciousness
in whom we live and move, and be; yet never see
for you’re the seeing in ourself; to whom we wake
and know, and stand securely, watching all?
I ask You for the sound of some new yet eternal name;
that sound by which all quickly know themself
and talk once more from hearts forever free,
of what we are, and know, and love to be.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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