Who I Am?
A shadeless tree with out fruit,
A thorn that pricks bare sore feet,
A stone that breaks brittle hearts,
A weed that multiplies its seed,
And scatters upon fair fertile land,
In each growing season.
Smoke that makes spheres sable,
A book with the contents erased,
A hand that stifles the fellow beings,
A sleeping lamp emitting no light,
An inventor of devilish devices,
A maker of trouble in each corner,
A being discarded from the Heaven,
A traveller unaware to the destination,
A vial containing no scent or perfume,
A flame that makes the world a hell,
Would that I have shown my worth,
And have added to beauty of the Earth!
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Related quotes
Washed Beauty (An Acrostic)
Love emitting origin, beaming a faint
Yellow pink glow of light, and sweeps
Nips thorns of darkness: the debris of
Night that makes the world bitter harsh.
Adds scent and colour to a drab life,
Large-hearted, selfless noble being,
Eloquent figure of letters, as rare as
Xenon that makes the world radiant,
Astute, auspicious, fair and judicious
Nymph, a fairy with washed beauty,
Decent in styles modes and manners,
Efficient in discerning fragile hearts,
Removes always blobs of depression.
Lynn Alexander
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Best Book In The World
the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature
the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within
the best book
the only true book
(every other book is distortion)
is the world itself
the Book of Nature:
read it
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Nature Is The Destiny Maker: Boo, Boo, Cried Bobby - A Barmy Head!
Nature is full of unraveled mysteries, cultures and histories;
Nature is full of flowing rills with growing thrills - oh human joker!
Nature nurtures dreams of utility by shaping your personality,
Yahoo! Nature is full of beautiful colors and heaven sent flowers
Nature is the destiny maker, boo, boo, cried Bobby – a barmy head!
Holy smoke, holy cow! Oh, little mackerel! Nature has ethereal power.
Papal tree and papaya fruit, coconut and grape fruit for you
Banyan tree and banana fruit, Almond tree apple fruit for you
Even if you are lost in thoughts futile – don’t worry – oh, lawbreaker!
Nature instills hope with an eternal source utile – be merry.
Nature is the destiny maker, boo, boo, cried Bobby – a barmy head!
Holy smoke, holy cow! Oh, little mackerel! Nature has ethereal power.
Blue Sky, white clouds, yellow stars are there for you,
Moon’s twilight and sun’s delight is for you and me,
Be a bird watcher and be with nature, oh, you and me!
Go and bow in front of rainbow, rain is for you and me.
Nature is the destiny maker, boo, boo, cried Bobby – a barmy head!
Holy smoke, holy cow! Oh, little mackerel! Nature has ethereal power.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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Sonnet: The Mustard Seed
How great a power fills a mustard seed-
A miniscule sphere, packed with silent life!
That falls in soil right, turning tree to feed
Both beasts and human beings, in much strife.
What creative mind made the mustard seed,
That rudely wakened, sprouts to mammoth tree!
With multitude of leaves verdure indeed,
And branches which nest birds, so proud and free.
God’s Kingdom too is like a mustard seed
That grows infinitesimally big with time,
And houses righteous souls that always heed
To Maker’s code regardless of earth’s clime.
The beauty of Heaven is foretold thus:
So fathomless, that none should ever miss!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2007
poem by John Celes
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A Desire
I wish I were a seasonal bird,
That travels flying around the world,
With sweet companionship of a partner,
Whose heart knows nothing except,
Faithfulness, how to share the pangs.
Then I fly with the delighted light heart,
Caring least the self made boundaries,
Of the countries or continents, across
The foaming wavy seas; to search,
The land, plains or isolated valleys,
Where neither one makes victim the other,
Nor playfully breaks the brittle hearts,
Nor does cast fear holding the fatal guns.
I would then chirp on the far off shores,
And dance along the ballet of the waves,
Away from the polluted and violent world
Of man, of which each nook and corner,
Smokes, smoulders and smells with hateful,
Explosives amid the shattered cottages.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Love Is Prime On Earth And In Heaven
Love rules all things though man may disagree
Love’s key opens man’s problematic locks
Love is the cause for Maker making man
Love is the reason why God takes him too!
Love is the winner clear over hatred
Love gives a deeper meaning to our lives
Love makes the brotherhood of nations true
Love goads man’s heart to seek the creator
Love is the basis for man’s existence
Love turns each home, a living paradise
Love makes a man akin to God at times
Love brings us forgiveness of God and bliss
Love turns the earthly transience worth living
Love gives an aim divine in our journey
Love helps us face our challenges in life
Love makes all human beings more humane
Love keeps the human race to grow stronger
Love moves all hearts to remorse, repentance
Love made the one God sacrifice His Son
Love is the cause of heaven’s reality
Love fills the empty heart with hope anew
Love opens new windows and vistas
Love fuses souls to Maker’s intentions
Love adds dignity to our earthly stay
Love is the most potent weapon on earth
Love is the lasting solution to peace
Love makes the earth a somewhat paradise
Love is a gift more precious than all wealth!
poem by John Celes
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The Seed And The Tree
Who can say for sure as to what came first: the seed or the tree?
If the seed came first where did it come from if not from the tree?
But then if the tree came first where did it come from except from a seed!
So then you'll have to re-ask again that question of the origin of the seed.
An endless circle with no logical conclusion soon appears
until one looks beyond the seed and the tree that it bears.
Although the seed comes from the tree and the tree from the seed
each one grows in the ground of mother Earth which both does feed.
The Earth is the womb of everything living and supports all we know
and then becomes the tomb back into which all forms one day must go.
The underlying essence of all nature is of consciousness-energy-intelligence
that includes and sustains all things despite our ever incessant belligerence.
Has anyone ever heard it said that God is in the form of the world
and so all within it carries a divine spark from which it has swirled.
God is the infinite eternal seed of all existence and can be experienced like this:
usually as an overwhelming love within us and as all power, knowledge and bliss.
So the seed and tree came from the Earth which itself has come from and exists in God
and to enquire where God has come from is useless if we haven't transcended this sod.
The limited mind of man has to merge into that unlimited universal mind of the Creator
only then can we know the original cause or final end of everything and of their Maker.
---------------------
Note:
This should remind one of the other similar paradox being that of 'the chicken and the egg'.
poem by George Krokos
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Knocks Me Off My Feet
I see us in the park
Strolling the summer days of imaginings in my head
And words from our hearts
Told only to the wind felt even without being said
I dont want to bore you with my trouble
But theres sumptin bout your love
That makes me weak and
Knocks me off my feet
Theres supmtin bout your love
That makes me weak and
Knocks me off my feet
Knocks me off my feet
I dont want to bore you with it
Oh but I love you, I love you, I love you
I dont want to bore you with it
Oh but I love you, I love you, I love you
More and more
We lay beneath the stars
Under a lovers tree thats seen through the eyes of my mind
I reach out for the part
Of me that lives in you that only our two hearts can find
But I dont want to bore you with my trouble
But theres sumptin bout your love
That makes me weak and
Knocks me off my feet
Theres sumptin bout your love
That makes me weak and
Knocks me off my feet
Knocks me off my feet
3*(I dont want to bore you with it
Oh but I love you, I love you, I love you)
Darling I dont...
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bird and flower upon the tree
A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.
'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'
'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'
On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Poets
Children of earth are we,
Lovers of land and sea,
Of hill, of brook, of tree,
Of all things fair;
Of all things dark or bright,
Born of the day and night,
Red rose and lily white
And dusky hair.
Yet not alone from earth
Do we derive our birth.
What were our singing worth
Were this the whole?
Somewhere from heaven afar
Hath dropped a fiery star,
Which makes us what we are,
Which is our soul.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Abortion Revisited
The Sculptor makes each masterpiece,
With equal labor, love and care;
But human beings murder own,
Unlike the beasts, who know not God.
While many yearn for just one child,
And families on earth vanish,
As God denies the gift of child:
Yet, those with children kill offspring?
The Maker makes some wombs sterile;
The Maker makes some, more fertile;
What ruthless hearts dare murder babes-
That bear semblance to God Himself!
Don’t expect mercy from the Lord,
Who loves all creatures, great and small;
He gave man freedom and free will:
That is abused by earthlings still.
God hears the pleas of unborn babes,
(Who wish to see the world, God made)
All murdered by their own parents-
A treachery, deserving hell.
Behold the unborn’s curse shall bring
Unwanted woes and suffering,
That punishes generations,
However mighty are nations.
No species kill their very own!
All babies have freedom to live;
No human being kills by right,
Another in the human race.
Abortion is a heinous crime;
Procured abortion is a Sin;
All lives are lives in utero;
No one has right to abortion.
The baby in the womb has rights;
A life that’s formed by God in womb,
Has right to exist after birth!
To God, all lives are truly same!
Show me some beasts that kill offspring!
Don’t they struggle to rear their young?
Why human beings turn ‘beast-like,
When God is merciful to them?
The unborn child needs dignity;
Unwanted babies are God’s gems;
If you can’t spare your baby’s life,
God’s rod befalls you like a knife!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-26-2008
poem by John Celes
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This is my Father’s World
This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.
This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.
This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.
This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.
This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.
This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.
poem by Maltbie Davenport Babcock
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Bitter Tear
The falling leaves of autumn
lay scattered where they fall
nurturing the land with goodness
before their end days call.
Yet here we stand superior beings
or so ourselves we think
as we poison this good earth,
never giving anything back.
We take and take and take
until one day in the future
we will come to realise
the error of our ways
and all the mistakes we have made.
When one day the beauty is gone
and only a land of dust remains,
that we who should be guardians
will realise to our shame.
It will be too late
to turn back from the abyss
that we have created in our greed.
We will have ruined everything
we say we hold dear,
and then we will know
what it is like to cry a bitter tear.
Generation after generation
will have drained the world of life
and end up with nothing
to show for all their greed.
The pastures once fertile
will be barren and bare.
The forests that now team with life
will no longer be there.
Death will rear its ugly head
as the waters will be unsafe to drink
and all we will have to greet us every day
is a dry and arid land.
Unless we wake up soon
and look at the problems in hand,
we will end up alone
on a bare and lifeless land.
15 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Seed
A seed
A bird had swallowed
While in fruit,
Had fallen in some rocky land
As Bird-droppings,
And sprouted into
A lovely tree,
With massive trunk
And boughs with verdant leaves,
And luscious fruits
As birds built nests
And wayfarers had shade from scorching sun!
A seed
A farmer sowed
In fertile land,
Ploughed by oxen
And sweat of brow
’neath scorching sun,
Did sprout also:
But ceased to grow
And withered
As the rains had failed
That year!
Although in both the cases
Seeds seemed similar,
Why did the farmer’s toil
Didn’t fructify?
Perhaps,
The bird had gulped
The best of fruits with seed
That grew despite the rocky soil!
Perhaps, the farmer’s work
Remained by God
Unblessed!
Man’s selfishness
At times ruins his labor great!
The heart of man matters!
Each seed
That’s sowed on earth
Grows by Heaven’s decree!
poem by John Celes
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Look Upon Your Beauty
To look upon your beauty,
Illuminates our soul
How fortunate we are
that we have found the beauty so true
that everyone dreams about and makes us whole.
There is no corner, in the world that your
love and beauty cannot fill
for if the world starts causing waves,
your beauty makes them lay still
poem by Timothy Honeycutt
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Again Falling In Love
I don’t belong to me,
to you, to her, to him.
Who are you, I ask myself
again falling in love for a tender shoot,
uncoiling under the debris of unfaithful corners?
I was watching a small birdie
hopping against a mirror, cracking the beak
to kill a rival.
She was pulling at my arm
white death in red scarf.
This is for you my fellow-traveller,
a beautiful sector of my hidden garden,
where I have permitted you to come for a walk.
Hand in hand we will watch the peerless evening –
sitting on the wings of gulls.
Will you like to break a promise
before I implode on the moon?
You light the earthen lamp daily under a tree,
to possess me, trap me, digest me. Voicelessly
I melt into smoke, fly away in small huffs.
poem by Satish Verma
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The Eye of the Beholder
IF, as they tell in stories old,
The waters of Pactolus roll’d
Over a sand of shifting gold;
If ever there were fairies, such
As those that charm the child so much,
With jewels growing ’neath their touch;
If, in the wine-cup’s sweet deceit,
There lies a secret pleasant cheat,
That turns to beauty all we meet;
The stream, the fairy, and the wine,
In the first love of youth combine
To make its object seem divine.
No golden sand of fabl’d river,
No jewel glittering for ever,
No wine-born vision’s melting quiver,
In vivid glory can compare
With that which we ourselves prepare
To throw round that we fancy fair.
Never such beauty glittered yet,
In golden beams of suns that set
On cupola and minaret.
Never such beauty met men’s eyes
In silver light of moons that rise
O’er lonely lakes ’neath tropic skies.
The world holds nothing of such worth,
There ’s nothing half so fair on earth,
As that to which the heart gives birth:
External beauties pall and fade;
But that which my own soul hath made,
To my conception, knows no shade.
To every ark there comes a dove,
To every heart from heaven above
Is sent a beauty born of love.
The moonlit lake, the waving trees,
It is the eye which looks on these
That makes the loveliness it sees.
Out of myself the beauty grows,
Out of myself the beauty flows
That decks the petals of the rose.
So, when at Ada’s feet I lay,
And saw her glorious as the day,
’Twas my own heart that lent the ray.
poem by James Lionel Michael
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Sonnet: Have a Child Soon
You have a child as early as you can,
Before the sun has set in your love-life!
Try hard- ’tis worth the labor woman, man;
Never worry about the added strife.
A family-life isn’t wholesome, spent childless!
Children are gifts of God, our living dolls!
The modern age has made earthlings reckless;
Without a child, you can’t for long rejoice.
Prepare the ground before you sow the seed;
But sow it only when conditions suit;
No married life’s joyful, childless indeed;
What is the use of growing trees sans fruit?
Yet, every tree must bear its fruit somehow!
Set right the environment but start right now.
6-12-2001
poem by John Celes
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Hell Or Heaven
Mama used to say to me
You can make your destiny
Keep your feet planted on the ground
You can always get it back
Make a castle from a one room shack
It's what you make of what you've found
Son you're gonna find out when you're older
There's always been the hand of God
Resting right there on your shoulder
Will it be hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
Saw a man the other day
Had it made in every way
Till his greed brought him down
He was blinded by the city lights
Now he shivers in the cold at night
Who will save the lifeguard
When he's about to drown
Will it be hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
You know you're gonna walk on through the fire
You know you're gonna feel the pain
You know you're gonna lose if you wanna win the game
And every time your heart is breakin'
And every time your faith is shaken
Just remember what mama said
Oh yeah
Hope when my time has come
I'm left enough to build upon
Ain't no one gonna say I didn't try
And here's why
Hell or heaven on Earth
The choice is up to you
Look to the sky, the answer is clear
Are you gonna live life for all it's worth
Choose hell or heaven on Earth
If you live it right
There's nothing to fear
'Cause you'll find heaven right here
You'll find heaven right here (x3)
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Philomela
The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late-bare Earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making;
And mournfully bewailing,
Her throat in tunes expresseth
What grief her breast oppresseth,
For Tereus' force on her chaste will prevailing.
O Philomela fair, O take some gladness
That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness!
Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.
Alas! she hath no other cause of anguish
But Tereus' love, on her by strong hand wroken;
Wherein she suffering, all her spirits languish,
Full womanlike complains her will was broken
But I, who, daily craving,
Cannot have to content me,
Have more cause to lament me,
Since wanting is more woe than too much having.
O Philomela fair, O take some gladness
That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness!
Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.
poem by Philip Sidney
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