Limited To Three Dimensions
Finally read the last book in my favourite children's
series in which Stella Blakemore brought all threads
together, explaining desire to follow lines connecting
all holy places on earth, to throw off the yoke, follow
the dream of a great pilgrimage to experience great
myths embodying humankind's ideals - or to escape
responsibilities when too tired to make sense of our
lives when people differ too much for understanding
the meaning of love
Those characters who still live in my mind, lived
situations which explained how to deal with a lack
of communication - and too much devotion for all
the wrong reasons, illustrating why my favourite
professor and his wife grew apart - how false
sentiment engendered by admiration for talent
can be placed in perspective - maybe it would
have been meaningless in 1974 when printed
who knows -
But today it illustrates synchronicity, based on the
principle of ley lines and sacred geography, at that
time I would have concentrated only on Lohengrin,
its multifaceted story complements my theory that
reality is infinitely rich and every fantasy provides
a focus on one main theme, offering perspective
within which we can view ALL of reality until we
change to the next code - present the symphony
of life in a new way, changing everything
I love this feeling on reading something that makes
me feel too inspired to return to sensory perception
llimited to three dimensions…
Stella Blakemore - "Unwelcome at Keurboslaan"
JL Van Schaik,1974………
………14 April 2012
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
What Has Been Denied
One of the main reasons,
People don't know who they are...
Or can respect others to accept,
Is their approach to life.
And a valued place on false pretensions.
People have been made to believe,
And are convinced...
That reality is to be pretended,
And the more pretentious they are...
The more they reflect a 'version' of reality.
Blindly accepted.
And...
Those who are themselves,
And have lived reality...
From an experiencing of it,
Are perceived as being phony.
Although everything they have done...
Is based upon truth as it is,
And have attempted to deliver it.
But are criticized for being nonconformists.
One of the main reasons,
People don't know who they are...
Or can respect others to accept,
Is their approach to life.
One is taught how to live,
And how to act.
What beliefs to accept,
From those created...
And followed 'faithfully'.
And those who live not accepting,
Those beliefs to follow 'faithfully'...
Seem to live freer lives,
Without having lies to follow.
'Why is there so much conflict in the world.
Why are so many people unhappy? '
That's a good question.
And they are the ones who follow,
Taught beliefs.
Without seeking to live life,
To discover it on their own.
They follow and protest yet accept.
'But,
How can you say that? '
I've learned to stand back,
And observe that which has been denied.
My eyes have been open most of my life,
To see things as they are.
Not what I wish them to be.
With eyes open wide.
And apparently my 'version' has offered me,
A more peaceful co-existence.
And that for me is not phony at all.
I only have one face that I've shown.
Have you ever seen me wearing a mask?
To appease others doing it?
'No.'
You should take yours off.
You'll see exactly what I mean.
When you begin to experience life,
So many become offended.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Boon Soul
Behold! I'm old; my hair is white;
My eighty years are in the offing,
And sitting by the fire to-night
I sip a grog to ease my coughing.
It's true I'm raucous as a rook,
But feeling bibulously "bardy,"
These lines I'm scribbling in a book:
The verse complete of Thomas Hardy.
Although to-day he's read by few,
Him have I loved beyond all measure;
So here to-night I riffle through
His pages with the oldtime pleasure;
And with this book upon my knee,
(To-day so woefully neglected)
I muse and think how soon I'll be
Myself among the Great Rejected.
Yet as these lines with zest I write,
Although the hour for me is tardy,
I think: "Of all the world to-night
'Tis I alone am reading Hardy";
And now to me he seems so nigh
I feel I commune with his spirit,
And as none love him more than I,
Thereby I gain a modest merit.
Oh Brother Thomas, glad I'll be,
Though all the world may pass unheeding,
If some greybeard con over me,
As I to-night your rhymes are reading;
Saying: "Old Bastard, you and I
By sin are knit in mind and body. . . ."
So ere to hit the hay I hie
Your ghost I'll toast in midnight toddy.
poem by Robert William Service
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Ongoing Storyline
Karma and Reincarnation, wonderful, so much
experienced and accomplished when exploring
and living life from various perspectives, karma
translates energy from lifetime to lifetime in an
ongoing storyline, fusing several lives together
through transition material creating a structure
that has long-term sense
My experience does not agree with the theories
and ideas of religion and fiction, being human is
a limiting experience for a spirit who knows it is
filled with love and connected to the universe,
yet cannot feel or explain it, life has meaning
as a series of signpost events with issues to
solve and lessons to learn
In a progression that derives sense from the
perspective of highest purpose; I love such
moments of sparkling insight that transcend
physical reality & gain access to a different
realm of heightened consciousness which
is pure bliss; existential crisis is infinitely
valuable to reveal these jewels
By blowing the chaff of human experience
away: when I feel so ill I cannot read or
think and nothing makes sense, only
theories on karma and reincarnation
remain valid and uplifting - while the
world and intellectualism lose all
its power to touch my mind
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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I'm Tired Of It All
I am tired of it all
I am tired of today
I am tired of the summer heat-
I am tired of all the years of trying to be something
And still being nothing and no one
I am tired of myself and my ambition
I am tired of reading the great poems of others
I am tired of Poetry
I am tired of being old
I am tired of no longer having the means to help those I care for-
I am tired of having written for so many years
And having so little to show for it-
I am tired of being an old man getting older -
I am tired of being afraid of what is going to happen to me
And those close to me
I am tired of having so many sick friends-
I am tired of having more and more people I have known who are dead
I am tired of a world in which violence and stupidity play such a great part
I am tired of all the problems that should have been solved years ago
And yet persist-
I am tired of cruelty
I am tired of rudeness and petty selfishness
I am tired of seeing the evil get away with it
I am tired truly tired
Tired of being tired also
Tired of myself and my complaints-
And my failure all these years
To make things right-
And yet and yet with all the tiredness
I know there is so much else even in myself-
I still want to live and dream and hope and help those I love
I still want to write still a few lines of poetry
that will be read by others
And help them
Dream to begin again
I still want to give to those I love
The little I still have to give
I still want to live
For life itself is life itself is still good
Despite the tiredness.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Science is Unscientific
The Professor rose from his chair.
He moved the book to the middle
Of the table as he stood up.
"Now, listen! " he said in an amicable voice.
"Science prides itself in being factual,
objective, precise, unbiased, detached
and verifiable, free from introversion,
a way of knowing things without added colours
and portraying accurately the physical world
in its own light".
The Turtle was sipping his ginger ale.
"Oh, this description of science is nothing
but a myth", he said. "As I see it,
even the most magnificent accomplishments
of science involve emotions,
an individual sense of wonder and curiosity,
the psychological experience of the rapturous
and the mystical. Consequently,
a paradoxical and built in property
of science concerns
its own unscientific disposition.
And therefore, in my opinion,
science is thoroughly unscientific."
"Nonsense", the professor objected.
"If science were really unscientific,
as you claim, it could not produce
nuclear energy, airplanes, or computers.
And it could not put
astronauts on the moon".
"Well, I indeed never stop to wonder,
How is it possible that with so little knowledge
humans can accomplish so much? "
the Turtle said.
And then he added:
"But, you should not
confuse science with technology".
"I don't get your point", the Professor said,
"because you still did not provide me with
a good justification of your negative view
of science".
"Look! Science stands on very shaky
theoretical foundations", the Turtle explained.
This is so due to its reduction
of the concrete whole
to incomplete abstractions. Ironically,
the more scientific science tries to be,
the less scientific it becomes.
Science is rational and logical but the
universe, which it investigates is not.
We cannot separate ourselves
from the world outside.
Therefore, an objective investigation
of actuality ought to incorporate
the subjective experience.
The depiction of reality must be total.
Otherwise it cannot be truly scientific.
Mind you, ignoring the dominant
subjective realm of existence does not
make the world more objective.
Imagine, for example, a computer
that tries to understand
the human world without understanding
the human mind and human emotions".
A moment of silence ensued.
The Professor sank into his thoughts.
The Turtle took another sip
from the ginger ale.
"I'm not sure",
the Professor said eventually,
"that it would be a good thing
evolving a computer to a level
in which it would understand
such human qualities as humour, concern,
loyalty, compassion, love and anger.
I wonder if such a cybernetic device
would be our servant or our master."
poem by Paul Hartal
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A Dream Away
Sometimes we have to put
a perspective on our lives
and separate the dreams from reality.
Stop living in a dream world
and begin to live in our reality.
Start doing the things
to make our dreams come true
instead of just dreaming
that they might someday.
But putting our lives into perspective
is not as easy as it sounds.
In fact, it is hard to do
when all you want is a dream away.
3 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Love as a poem
Love as a poem
My friend says it’s a rosary
To think that love is full of mystery
Also it’s like a fantasy
But one thing that is for sure it lives in reality
Love is like a poem
It’s a feelings for you to feel
It’s a full of memories that strikes us evenly
Because love is an unending story of reality
Love is like a poem
That makes our lives colorful
Yet it reveal yet different meaning
Like the love we shared, my little darling
Oh try to imagine
The love -the love as a poem
Through each lines
Different emotions, different gems
Note:
(City of Mati, Philippines 1990)
Love Notes Collection
poem by Jordan Legaspi
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1974
The sun is shining hard at my feet
And the city is an animal ready to eat
It's raining like a nose bleed, cigarettes and sweets
And I feel it coming on
Bloody as the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
She isn't crazy
She's just not impressed
She stabs me with her eyes
Dirty knives hidden in her dress
And it's raining like bombs in my room when I'm alone
And I swear I think I knew you before
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Just like the day I was born
It's 1974
Do you want it, do you want it, do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
Nothing gonna stop it now
But nothing
Do you want it, come on
Do you want it, do you want it, come on just bring it on
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974
It's 1974
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Astrophel and Stella: LXXI
Who will in fairest book of nature know
How virtue may best lodg'd in beauty be,
Let him but learn of love to read in thee,
Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.
There shall he find all vices' overthrow,
Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty
Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;
That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.
And, not content to be perfection's heir
Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,
Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.
So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,
As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:
But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"
poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet LXXI: Who Will in Fairest Book
Who will in fairest book of nature know
How virtue may best lodg'd in beauty be,
Let him but learn of love to read in thee,
Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.
There shall he find all vices' overthrow,
Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty
Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;
That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.
And, not content to be perfection's heir
Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,
Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.
So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,
As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:
But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"
poem by Philip Sidney
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Thank you a lot
I learnt it from nature
Despite harming so much for sure
"I bow head with respect"
To forgive us all for mad act
I thank almighty for providing precious life
Along with resolve to stay with lots of strife
Always waiting for good to happen
Despite all chances of no success even
I breathe in amidst uncertain moment
Thank nature for providing nice movement
To feel its pulse of its great act
What else can be felt in return as fact?
We can only thank in terms of gesture
That is goodness of human being for sure
We can reciprocate and recognize
If everything is understood as wise
Be calm and quiet while responding
Because that directly reflects and corresponds
Your inner soul action and feeling on face
Face lines are read in all the cases
Eyes go down in recognition
"Words are not sufficient reflection"
"I wish to speak something more"
It just weaves the thoughts and really adore
Such is the meaning of "Thank you"
It must convey feeling and look true
Merely saying "thank you" may look casual
Each time it may be spoken as lines from an individual
Lots of burden is removed when conveyed
The gratitude felt from inside and relayed
The receiver may too felt its impact
To feel real worth and graciousness of act
Thank all when you feel something good is done
Not to you but your friend and heart is won
This is the only gesture that costs nothing
But in return you earn a good will wish for something
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Run And Dance And Play
'The mission of poetry is to create among people
the possibility of wonder, admiration, mystery,
the sense that life is marvelous...
To make life a marvel-that is the role of poetry.'
- OCTAVIO PAZ
she finally admits that she likes octavio
but she does not understand him, and i quip
that if that is the case, you must stop reading him, he is killing you
and your initial desire to be in love with poetry
isn't it that the mission of poetry is to create this marvel?
this admiration? this feeling that life is marvelous?
that there is still this wonderful feeling left inside us
despite the odds?
if octavio makes you wonder about more wonders
continue reading the magnificence of his lines
marvel, marvel, marvel
but if he does not achieve that purpose in you
try reading back those nursery rhymes
those that make you feel better and make you
go back to the niceties of your childhood
run and play and dance and sing
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Radiance
[I always idolise my favourite teachers and
adore spiritual masters, look with wonder-
ment on those willing to take time to guide
students to wisdom, those who teach me
Become godly in my eyes if they are masters
of their subject and their shining devotion
keeps my mind from being crushed in the
emotional pitfall of boredom, thank you
To everyone who has taught me through my
life, you lighted a fire in my mind that shall
never die, cannot be quenched by lack of
success or destroyed by failures galore]
I see radiance in your poetic gift which you
received through genetic disposition, you
chose to develop this gift which shows
your excellent taste and orientation
These confer a radiance on you which has
nothing to do with any deserving deed or
future expectation of such, making you a
candidate for unbounded admiration
You saw my potential, helped me redesign a
life lacking in expression of imagination and
creativity, through integrity in this guidance
you won a student's trust and friendship
This creates space for infinite learning; as a
teacher you need not do anything beyond
sharing you time and wisdom - you need
not create and live up to an image
Your mastery and desire to teach those who
love learning is more than enough, I wish to
live within a poetic perspective, be creative
without hurting others - and your training
Leads me towards successful communication
I shall follow my teacher's guidance and try
to realise what gift I might possibly have -
just be the beacon…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Anything is Possible
The code could also be a hologram - no-one
can explain how it was created by some mind
beyond imagination, we have to invent some-
thing to read the Book of Life
It states Einstein's Unified Field Theory exists
in a 5th dimension beyond these 3 dimensions
of space and 4th of time - quantum physicists
already agree a 5th does exist
Only fact about code's origin: no human could
encode it; proof of an intelligence completely
different from our own, we are not alone, an
outside encoder is somewhere
Michael Drosnin's report on code research
enriches my life, nourishment for a starving
imagination, I feel privileged to study the
theories and thoughts of scientists
Exploring myriad dimensions of holographic
reality by shining their mind's laser-light on it,
we live in a holographic universe constituted
of waves varying in frequencies
Anything is possible, those without interest
need never know - being curious I am not
content to remain in the dark when thought
can illuminate all to reveal the reality
Beyond eternity…
The Bible Code, Michael Drosnin, Weidenfeld &
Nicolson,1997 -
pp.45&46
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Culmination of Visions
Romanticism dreamt is disenchantment
and death, a problem countered by realism,
left-brain thinking enriches us immensely,
combined with right-brain intuition we are
moreso free than ancient people as we
access their wisdom
Story, ideal and dream enriches life,
improves relationships, imbues reality
with symbols, deeper meaning, every
escapist fantasy thickens reality into
a multidimensional tapestry; this is
why you are my friend, though cynical
you never scare me
Offering understanding never thought
possible, fantasy pales in comparison
yet enabled me to accept a fairytale in
my life: you created a safe channel by
which I can relate to the most admired
author and poet I know; the most gifted
realistic person brought about
a culmination of visions, Danke
(The discovery that reality is better than dreams
made me very happy. The realisation that dreams,
ideals and fantasies are helpful by enabling me to
SEE the positive aspects of reality, contributes
to this happiness.)
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Stand by me
She asked "will you stand by me"
I wondered for a moment and felt so much free
From the old apprehensions and went just near
For repeat of those words from her to hear
It created a magic in air and spread like fragrance
I had waited long for it to hear at once
So many had repeatedly told me many times
That love is taking place only by chance
I dream nothing except your company
It might have been experienced by so many
I have different story to tell for all those
Who are really loving and honestly chose
It is wonderful to feel for each other
World is definitely nice place to live and bother
But here it is entirely different and meant for belonging
Time has now come to end the longing
It is spelling doom for dry spell
From now on everything may seem very well
Nothing will be serious for a time to continue
A different perspective from different angle to view
I feel mighty hands around waist
The heavy breath can be heard from chest
I need an extra courage to feel above normal human
It is in direction for making me complete woman
I dream about another world to live in
With total commitment and usher in
A place where sun and moon may shine with objective
Life shall remain totally committed and subjective
The phrase" stand by me "has its own relevance
Love now can't be told as happening by chance
It is on real land and will be shaped as we move on
The past may be remembered but reality may not be won
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Storyteller's Word
In a decent book, I can lose myself,
For, at least, a good couple of hours.
A well told story, for young or old,
My mind will quite hungrily devour.
I’ve always loved a real page turner:
A story, which, is totally compelling.
Sometimes, there’s a story, true or invented,
Which, simply, deserves, and needs telling.
Sometimes, a person in a book,
To me, can feel like a true friend;
You share their life and adventures,
And feel rather sad, when it all ends.
A story can stir up a mixture of emotions:
I’ve cried tears, and gasped with surprise.
I’ve found myself completely captivated,
As a story unfolds before my very eyes.
A good story, has the ability to transport you,
To different places, and to different times.
You just never know where you may end up,
When you sit and read those immortal lines.
Stories should never be kept locked away:
With others, they should be readily shared.
There is no other past-time, known to man,
With which, reading a book, can quite compare.
Whether a story is based on a person’s life,
Or whether, it has been quite purely invented,
A story can make such an impact upon you,
That, forever, in your memory, it is cemented.
I’ve always adored a really well written story,
Regardless of, by whom, or when, it was written.
Snuggled up, with a book held in your hands,
It is so easy, to become completely smitten.
A story can make you lose all track of time,
When, in a book, you are totally immersed.
I love reading a story, and really drinking it in;
For reading books, I’ve developed a real thirst.
There are many stories, the world over,
Which, are still waiting to be heard.
Nothing on earth, is quite so powerful,
As the power of the storyteller’s word.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Your Presence
Reality – THIS reality in which YOU live – is more beautiful
than the dream, I am content, it would seem you can work
wonders with your presence, when you are there, the sun
comes out, when you speak, you open my heart, when you
pronounce, my mind wakes up, with your sonorous voice
in my ears, I understand the meaning of living this life
Thank you for teaching me to trust by being trustworthy
and holding my hand when my fears held me over the
abyss, thank you for turning back as I fell trying to follow
in your footsteps, thank you for being just who you are
even when others did not comprehend your great spirit
and sweet intent – I appreciate you, right here, right now
Just as you are, without fear that you are just a figment
of my imagination – because you are not, you are so
much bigger than that – no fantasy can reach the height
of your stature, you just keep growing, I love reality
- at last!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Irony
Last night, by accident,
We encountered one another,
You, holding another man's hand…
Me, alone and tired
Getting a little be older
But still in love with you….
I can confess I was very furious,
A thousand thoughts
Came to my mind
While my broken heart
Sounded like a drum…
I made belief it was just a dream
That turned into a nightmare…
I can't any longer hold more pain
Or more feelings for you to spare…
Nothing can be compared
To the great love you inspired in me
And now I only with myself I share…
Last night, I got the strength
To walk away from you
And finally move-on
In my ever changing life
Now only one thing remains to be said:
"Thank you for all the love
And time we once shared"
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Stella By Starlight
The song a robin sings,
Through years of endless springs,
The murmur of a brook at evening tides.
That ripples through a nook where two lovers hide.
That great symphonic theme,
Thats stella by starlight,
And not a dream,
My heart and I agree,
Shes everything on this earth to me.
That great symphonic theme,
Thats stella by starlight,
And not a dream,
My heart and I agree,
Shes everything on this earth to me.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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