Calming the mind! ! ! !
The high tide
Washed away my footprints
On the beach
I gazed
From atop
A rock…
What will it take
To wipe clean my mind,
Of passions that
Arouse and hound?
More than a wash cloth,
I used, to clean the slate
As a child,
When some one scribbled
That I didn’t like…
I wish
I could unplug
The power supply
that feeds on my mind...
Recall, how I would
Hide in the folds
Of my mother's saree
When a storm raged
And lightening struck,
feeling safe.
I know, this too
Shall pass.
After a stone is thrown
in water, ripples do settle.
What would life be
If one didn't grow,
And learn to go home
to oneself...
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Mothers' Forever Stay
When the storm raged
Fell the trees,
Lightening struck
And cloud burst,
Rain lashed on the roof
And tiny white balls
Gathered at our door;
I remember how I would run
With a pounding heart
And hide my face in your sari folds
Until the storm spent… left.
You took me to the courtyard
And pointed at the mango tree;
See, the trunk, didn’t yield to wilful storm.
It’s grounded with roots deep into the earth.
The top shook like you.
I nodded as if I understood.
All I cared for was her nearness
And familiar fragrance.
As I grew old, her morning chants woke
Me from deep slumber, and I lingered in bed
Listening to her footsteps… reassured.
Looking back, when life threw some difficult tests
I had learnt to anchor myself in my breath.
Now there are no sari folds
But what she told
Guides me through highs and lows.
Mother, your little girl is all grown up now,
Just because you showed her how.
Pray mother,
How did you always know
What to say?
Even today I can feel your presence
For mothers never leave,
They forever stay.
a tribute to my mother on her birthday, written on 1st August.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Eternity Rain
Let this rain wash me
Let it wash my virtual sins
Clean my sorrow from the sins of my fathers
Clean my self form this dirt call life
From the false tells of creation
And clean my mind from the empty words of priest
From the dirty political speech
Let this holy rain clean my sorrow form the sin of love
Sin of being the truthful in this life
I want to clean my mind from the thought control
Clean my head form my mum fairy lies
It need the eternity to clean out my soul and my life from this life dirt
To be clean again i need eternity rain
poem by Aryabod Siharyvani
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Dead Starfish
washed up
on the beach
high tide’s brief wasting
a minute more, a minute less
the beach holds
sand secrets
to take or to give
back and forth we go
but time does not wait
as the last wave recedes
the next plunges forth
and wipes the slate
pebble and foam completely
clean.
(Previously published in The Oracular Tree, June 2003)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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I Washed My Hands In Muddy Water (Rehearsal 07-29-70)
I was born in Macon Georgia
They kept my daddy over in Macon jail
He told me if you keep your hands clean
You won't hear them bloodhounds on your trail
Well I fell in with bad companions
Robbed a man, oh up in Tennessee
They caught me way up in Nashville
They locked me up and threw away the key
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
Well I asked the judge now when's my time up
He said son, oh you know we won't forget
If you try just to keep your hands clean
We might just make a good man of you yet
Oh I couldn't wait to get my time up
I broke out, broke out of Nashville jail
I just crossed the state-line of Georgia
Well I can hear those bloodhounds on my trail
I washed my hands in muddy water
Washed my hands, but they didn't come clean
Tried to do what my daddy told me
But I must have washed my hands in a muddy stream
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Water
Quicksand, my heart is sinking
I try to run but I can't stop thinking
I'm climbin' walls, I'm on the ceilin'
Its gonna take a miracle to heal me
I'm starin' down into the quarry
I see a stone for every sorry
I'm on the edge, I'm goin under
And after I die I'm gonna rise from the water
I wanna blast off,
let gravity dissapear
I'm tired of fallin, fallin, fallin
from the weight of fear
Come and lift me up
into the clean and clear
I'm waitin' on you Jesus in the water here
So come and wash me clean
The sky is red, there's blood on my hands
Cant deny, you're clear where I stand
The burn of sin, I hear them shoutin'
Send me a river to drown this mountain
(Repeat Chorus)
Wash me clean...
Let it wash me, let is wash me, let it wash me clean
(Repeat Chorus)
I wanna blast off,
let gravity dissapear
Come and lift me up,
into the clean and clear
Let it wash me, let it wash me, let it wash me clean
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The footprints in my heart
My heart looks like a beach
After a long summers day
Absolute chaos
A whole life of people
Or just a day of chaos
When my heart
was just like a beach
early morning
just as the sun came up
washed clean of all that came before
not a print
unblemished by peoples disregard
for it is clean of all chaos
then I let the first person in
who walked a long trail
lonely path cut into fresh sand
serenity has come beauty
the first footprint
interrupted by a calm wave
sweeping to interrupt the first sign
of someone walking on my heart
then as the time drags on the beauty changed
more people than just one
disrupting my clean beach
walking, jumping, lying on my beach
the beauty changed to chaos
but for one thing
the footprint of love
of care that the beauty should not be touched
then hurt of the careless one
leaving their dirt behind
muddy footprints of a careless child
a conceited adult
so during the erosion of my beach
day in day out
night for night
cleaning and sweeping
but for those
careless footprints
of the one who used the beach
with no care
for what damage they do
they destroyed
the beautiful beach
the beautiful heart
so the question is
will with time
this beach
heal and find its beauty again
will the footprints of the new day
come back and make
the heart forget
those days of chaos
I wait for the one person
Early one morning
To make new footprint
Not one set, but two
One for me and one for her
New footprints on my heart
My Slate Is Clean of Miseries
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
And if I do have any enemies...
May they live an afterlife,
In a realm that's more acceptible.
I've wiped my slate clean of those miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've sliced and diced all that away from me.
And I wont slit my wrists...
To bleed in dripping pity!
There is a happiness in me increased.
With a peace of mind I own,
Straight from sorrows I'd adopted.
I've had to learn to be away from disease.
To figure my life out.
And weed away all nonsense,
From my reach.
There is so much joy seen in me that's deep.
'Cause my jaws are not uptight,
Looking for a fight.
No!
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
And if I do have any enemies,
May they live an afterlife...
In a realm that's more acceptible.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
None I wish to carry,
Or marry to be download.
I've wiped my slate clean of their miseries.
And none of that will chip away my peace!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
There is a joy in me I know is seen.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
'Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
Cause I'm not uptight.
Looking for a fight,
No!
My slate is clean of miseries.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Clean
Eat clean,
Live clean,
Sleep clean,
dress clean,
Walk clean,
Learn clean,
Play clean,
Think clean,
dance clean,
Talk clean,
Sing clean,
work clean,
Because the world around you is watching what you do;
You are the only one on this earth,
So live and let us live too.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Survial.
Water comes from the river origin is clean,
I wash my head.
Water comes from the river branch is dirty,
I wash my feet.
Oh sure, when water in the pool is clean,
I jump in to swim.
But, when the pool is dirty, I leave at once,
And quit my job.
Oh who’s the original source not let me clean?
Keep my head and body clean without water?
How can I keep my head clean in the river?
How can I keep my body clean in a pool?
What is going on about the water?
How could I live in this world?
poem by Albert Wong
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Wash Yourself
Wash yourself and make yourself clean,
And appear before me with your nakedness and let me love you;
For the faithful city has now become a harlot and,
Your wine is now mixed with water!
You've sold yourself to many and,
Of your beautiful bush which now lay bare;
But everything in life is for a season.
As white as snow and as red as crimson,
But do work towards your dreams always and be clean;
For the smell of your muse is now heard everywhere!
And i want you to wash yourself and be clean.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Storm Song
From the blue sky, pale but fair,
In the listless humid air,
Swells a distant, slate-gray row,
Angry mountains roll and grow,
Then there comes a low, faint growl,
Breezes grow into a howl,
Shattering, sharp cracks split the air,
A splattering, then a rolling snare,
Roaring, rumbling, crackling sound,
Young trees bending toward the ground,
Bowing to the storm god’s power,
Thirsty roots soak up the shower,
Gradually, the storm winds tire,
Cooler breezes now inspire,
Crisp, clean feelings of rebirth,
As bright clean sunlight bathes the earth
poem by Richard Dates
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The Washing and Dressing
Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right -- take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
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Washing And Dressing
AH! why will my dear little girl be so cross,
And cry, and look sulky, and pout?
To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss,
I can't even kiss her without.
You say you don't like to be wash'd and be dress'd,
But would you not wish to be clean?
Come, drive that long sob from your dear little breast,
This face is not fit to be seen.
If the water is cold, and the brush hurts your head,
And the soap has got into your eye,
Will the water grow warmer for all that you've said?
And what good will it do you to cry?
It is not to tease you and hurt you, my sweet,
But only for kindness and care,
That I wash you, and dress you, and make you look neat,
And comb out your tanglesome hair.
I don't mind the trouble, if you would not cry,
But pay me for all with a kiss;
That's right–take the towel and wipe your wet eye,
I thought you'd be good after this.
poem by Ann Taylor
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Hide Behind The Sun
Tonight
everything but me
taken out to sea
all gone
I wish
Written in the sand
washed away tomorrow
This time
look what I've become
Didn't run, run from what you've done
didn't hide behind the sun
And I wanted everything
thought that you could bring me
daylight
A dream, burning in the sky
leaves my spirits dry
And you lied
now look what I've become
Didn't run
run from what you've done
Didn't hide behind the sun
Couldn't run, lost in what you've done
look what I've become
This time
look what I've become
Didn't run, run from what you've done
Didn't hide behind the sun
Couldn't run, lost in what you've done
Look what I've become
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jesus Loves You
The Savior is waiting to enter your heart
Once he comes in he will never depart
He has life giving water to quench your thirst
And with his love you'll be immersed
He came to give you life more abundant and free
And that is why he went to the cross of Calvary
His shed blood was the perfect sacrifice
He has power to forgive sins because he paid the price
If you are thirsty then come to him now
And at the mercy seat humbly bow
He loves you so much and is the only way
Jesus is only a prayer away
Jesus is waiting with his arms open wide
He says 'Come unto me and with me abide'
He'll forgive any sin you've ever done
And wipe the slate clean as though there were none
He promises you a home in heaven where you'll never grow old
Where some day you'll be walking on streets of gold
His great salvation you can never lose
Whoever comes to him he will in never refuse
poem by Cindy Wyatt
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In The Footprints of My Mother
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall step to you.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall stay innocent and true.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall not give up hope.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall give you my love note.
In the footprints of my mother,
Lead me to a better path.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall releive in her wrath.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall cure all of your pains.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall bring you great reigns.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall unleash the angels of truth.
In the footprints of my mother,
I shall defeat the evils booth.
The footprints of my mother,
led me straight to you.
The footprints of my mother,
Shown me I have nothing left to loose.
The footprints of my mother,
Guieded me towards the compelling lights.
The footprints of my mother,
Guided me towards the love of my life.
poem by Erin Grantham
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Maid
After a decade
Of housekeeping
When housework
Seemed like
Clock-work
Never-ending
The more you
Clean
The more
It piles up
For
Another
Clean…
I finally have a
Maid
Who helps me
Every week.
A luxury
I couldn't
Afford
In the past
Years
As the
Cost of
Living
In the UK
Is so high.
Now,
That she
Takes care
Of my
Home
And I
Pay her
Well -
For all the
Cleaning…
I should
Feel happy,
Shouldn't I?
I have more
Time…
For myself
And my
Family.
But why
Do I
Feel so
Guilty?
The Work
I didn't
Like doing
She does it
All for the
Money
She needs
To feed
Her family
Of four
Children.
The mother
In me
Doesn't
Quite
Relish
Seeing
This -
Another
Mother
Work
So hard
And do
Odd jobs
Such as
Cleaning
People's
Toilets
And baths.
We find it
So uneasy
To clean
Our own.
Money
Makes
A slave of you
You like it
Or not,
To feed
Four
Hungry
Bellies,
You have to
Clean
Other people's
Homes.
The Question
Remains:
Should I be
Feeling
Happy
About
Giving her
Employment
And giving
Myself
Some respite
From the
Daily
Drudgery
Of house-keeping?
Or should I be
Feeling uneasy
About the fact
That she's also
A woman like me
A mother like me
A human like me
Yet she works
So hard for
Money…
The kind of jobs
I would abhor
To do…
She does it
With a smile
To keep her
Employers
Happy…
As she knows
If she
Loses her
Job, her
Children
Will be so
Unhappy.
(Poem themed on Dilemma)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Footprints
Footprints in the sand
As deep as they might be
Will someday be washed away
By the wind or by the sea.
The footprints have been placed
Upon the beaches sand
In memory of a creature
Proclaiming Himself as Man.
I followed this set of footprints
Placed upon the beaches Earth
To find out where Man had gone to,
And to find out His Earthly worth.
Many of the footprints were deep,
Placed upon the beaches sand,
From the troubles that Man had kept
With memories held in His hand.
And the footprints, that were placed wide
They were many upon the beach,
Were they from the trouble that Man did hide,
Or was it from happiness, that was out of reach.
And then as I noticed in front of me
The footprints were swept away,
Man again was forgotten
Until He returned another day.
Then I looked behind me,
I saw my footprints in the sand
And I know someone will follow them
While wondering, who was this Man.
Had my footprints been placed deep,
Or were they placed apart very wide,
Will they wondered if I ever laughed,
Or if I cried, from sorrows I couldn't hide.
So I closed my eyes and I wondered
About the footprints that I had placed
Someday, will Man He follow them,
While believing my life a waste.
So I continued my walk upon the beach,
I was a very joyful and happy Man,
I left my sorrow and trouble behind me,
In my footprints in the sand.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Poem for Mothers' Day
Oh we never know our parents…
isn’t that the cruellest thing?
we were never old enough
to know them as they were;
how I wish I had been just as old
as she and he were; to sit
across the rug from them and say
now tell me the story of your life,
don’t miss out anything..
how could I then not love you more,
you strangers whom I fought to be
myself; where were yourselves the while?
*
I’m crumpling this poem in
my salty hand and throwing it
into the wind whose wisdom
may dropp it at your feet;
your feet I never washed;
would wash now with my tears;
and then, perhaps, wash history
clean, with touched hands, shared laughter;
as clean now as ever after.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Crawford washed her hands a lot. She washed her arms all the way up past her elbows. She just couldn't get enough done in that direction. She was compulsive about being clean, clean, clean!