En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In Essence

Rapid essence is secret weapon for the rich and famous,
Yet their doing is definite in the eyes of most,
In the rising of guilt and gunnery.

For when bullets are fired in one rapid answer
To the fallen man who resents the very essence,
Then the falling is reason for discontent.

I said the seeing is again done with the futilty,
And the man or woman shall evade all utility,
Will they not destroy their benefits, in essence?

poem by Naveed Akram
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Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex

Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex,
For her strength alone can please the mighty hero!
What's the use of this manliness, friend,
When it is of no use to the lord at all?
Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!

A man might attain the ultimate release,
If he sticks to the path of virtue,
But to indulge in the scrumptious joys of pretended anger
And the lord pleading to make up and other such games,
You simply have to be a woman!
Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!
For her strength can please the mighty hero!

Even the gods like Indra and the great sages
Revere the very dust of gopis' feet,
Considering themselves lesser than the gopis
As they find their manhood insipid!
Essence of essence the birth of the weaker sex,
For her strength can please the mighty hero!

Woman, the treasure trove of fortune
Experiences and enjoys all day and night
The very nectar, the Vedas and the Scriptures
Struggle to express!
Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex!

Let my dreams come true
My dark one, my lifter of the mountain, life of my life!
For just like the master dragging the meek beast
The leash of love draws Narsinh!
Essence of essence is the birth of the weaker sex,
For her strength can please the mighty hero!

poem by Narsinh Mehta
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Let me go over this again on the reclaiming the civil rights movement. People of faith that believe that you have an equal right to justice - that is the essence. And if it's not the essence, then we've been sold a pack of lies. The essence is everyone deserves a shot - the content of character, not the color of skin.

quote by Glenn Beck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bullets And Kisses

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.

Heat seeking missile are only sent destroy.
Man less drones are deployed.
Books to a religion burned.
Peace will be destroyed.
It is impossible to avoid.
Unrest on steroids.

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.

You want to trust and be trusted.
But you have no understanding of a culture.
You disrespect it everyday.
You create martyrs by your mistakes.
With every action you make it just escalates.
Fear spreads like fire in a very drought ridden forest.
Let me ask you how do you plan on exactly putting out?

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.

You must get out.
It was never your responsibility.
We are not the divinity.
We are not here to save you.
With so much blood on our hands how can we still be wearing that cape?
Do we not understand what is at stake?
We just continue to create pure hate.

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.

Greed is why we are sending our soldiers away from home.
Controlling chaos.
A symphony of stealing while their not looking.
If we are their long enough soon or later we will corrupt.
And that´s just little messed up.

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten.

Slavery can be bought and sold.
Back door deals.
A fake government at least thats the way the people feel.
And are they really that off target?
After all they are the are people.
A pulse beating, breathing life into their own country.

My bullets are kisses.
Let me send them to everyone of you.
Let them poison the very essence of your soul.
Let me claim another victim.
Let me dig another grave of the forgotten.
Memories dead, stale, and rotten...,
Yes they are already dead, stale, and rotten.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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None

Life is the expression of the desire of the soul to manifest and to share what it uniquely perceives and feels. Columbus's essence is deep in discovery

Buddha is the essence of wisdom, the triumph of wisdom


Christ is the essence of love, the essence of wisdom, the triumph of love, the triumph of love.

poem by Michael Kavuoti
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The Essence Of The Waterfall

the essence of the waterfall
its beauty
the reason for its existence
is the falling

day and night it falls
and falls and falls
you cannot stop it

let it be let it be
like the way you are falling
from the skies of your dreams

it is your essence
it is the beauty of your existence
it is the meaning
of your being you

let it be let it be
find the bottom of it all

you shall find rest there.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Essence

Life
Life is the expression of the desire of the soul to manifest and to share what it uniquely perceives and feels. Columbus's essence is deep in discovery
Buddha is the essence of wisdom, the triumph of wisdom

Christ is the essence of love, the essence of wisdom, the triumph of love, the triumph of Wisdom.

poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Essence

Rain from the sky,
Mixes with cloudy emotion,
Lingering behind my eyes-

A foggy recollection is given to ask,
Where before have I seen this day,
From my discordant past-

Perhaps a mountain top, or a canyon floor,
Somehow I feel this day I know,
From somewhere far before-

These mystic memories cryptically contain,
Timeless pictures of hope,
Displayed within eternities ever expanding frame-

Unsettled becomes my heart,
By this essence of thought,
Wondering if in it all am I merely watching, or actually taking part-

Is it now, or is it then,
Am I going,
Or have I already been-

There is an essence of great life so present,
Blended into each moment,
And even every living breath-

It crosses the boundaries of time,
Connecting so many hearts, souls,
And minds-

How can it be found,
Deciphered, decoded,
Understood and known-

A great and wonderful mystery,
Alluring, calling, and saving,
Through all humanity-

Capricious consternations on this, such a dark day,
Glow with the essence of the unexplainable,
Yet, shine a beautiful light to guide, along the way-

Holy is this Essence burning into the heart,
The Essence of eternity spread throughout all time,
Bringing all together at the finish, as it was at the start-

Essence bids: all come,
And find, where you are going,
Is to, where you are truly from.

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Science sometimes falls short when trying to fathom the depths of our essence - and our inspiration comes from that essence.

quote by Lance Secretan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The essence of man is, discontent, divine discontent; a sort of love without a beloved, the ache we feel in a member we no longer have.

quote by Jose Ortega y Gasset
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I maintain also that substances, whether material or immaterial, cannot be conceived in their bare essence without any activity, activity being of the essence of substance in general.

quote by Gottfried Leibniz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Divine Essence

Love is a flower
spreading beautiful perfume
a divine essence

haiku by Marius Alexandru (March 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Killing time is perhaps the essence of comedy, just as the essence of tragedy is killing eternity.

quote by Miguel de Unamuno
Submitted by anonym
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Liar, liar...

when the sweet sap of
the sugar cane is gone
when the salt does not
taste salt at all
when the vinegar loses
its prized acidity
the raw mango its sourness
the pork its oil and
the rice its gluten

when essence is gone
when you say that it is this
essence that precedes
existence

then tell me what happens next?

i know what to do.I know.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gathering

There was a gathering of time
in odd spaces.

There was a gathering of spaces
seeking my time, your time, our time.

There was a gathering of the Saving Graces
which bid us to lie down with peace
to bloom in time and space.

This was a gathering of hopes and dreams
in a space, in a time
with an individualized saving grace.

In gathering it seems-
if we come with only our individual sense
of time, space and grace-
we will have not gathered at all
and will have only succumbed to Sweet Ironic Irony.

'Place then' he said
'your eyes upon the Sun
and know that life is such that
sometimes you must be the moon.

'Place then' he said' your hand
knowing your space
sometimes
in life
must be our space or no space at all.'

'How' we all said
'is this trick to be done? '

He said 'no trick. It is the essence of all things
not only to change
but to be in essence
more than one thing;
even to be more than two
at the same time.'

'That is why' he said
uplifting his arm
'we can think two different,
even contradictory things
at the same time.
This is not artifact
but essence.
This is nature-
not mistake.

Who I am;
Who are we
is the same query
and the answer is for both:
both are we
and each is I
for all is multiples;
and Revelation;
there is no
Universal Rule
of Consistency;
we live in multiple multiplicities.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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No One Can Stop Us To Write

and they must know the reason why,
simple enough
we are writers and our essence is to write
for writing's sake
nothing aimed nothing gained nothing lost
we write because we are here
and we are here because we write
we write because if we do not
we no longer become ourselves
we lose our salt we become just like any
flesh, rotten, infected with bacteria
foul, and finally become just dust
on the corner of the road

we write and we keep on writing
because we are
we do not need the praise
or the condemnation
we do not need an audience
or an empty space

we write because we are
that is our essence and no one can stop us

except perhaps when the word is gone.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unless And Until You Have Grasped The Essence Of The Self

Unless and until you have grasped the essence of the Self
Vain are all your efforts and like unseasonal rains,
You have wasted your human birth.

So what if you have taken a holy bath
Or offered twilight prayers and worship?
So what if you have stayed at home and given alms?
So what if you keep matted locks and smear ashes?
So what if you have plucked hair on your head?
Unless and until you have grasped the essence of the Self
Vain are all your efforts and like unseasonal rains,
You have wasted your human birth.

So what if you indulge in recitation, penance or go on a pilgrimage?
So what if you count beads and chant the holy name
So what if you put on at il ak or worship Tulsi?
So what if you drink the water of Ganga?
Unless and until you have grasped the essence of the Self
Vain are all your efforts and like unseasonal rains,
You have wasted your human birth.

So what if you speak of theVedas or grammar?
So what if you enjoy yourself and have a good time?
So what if you have grasped the distinctions
Between the six systems of philosophy?
So what if you have adhered to the distinction of caste?
Unless and until you have grasped the essence of the Self
Vain are all your efforts and like unseasonal rains,
You have wasted your human birth.

All these are worldly pursuits for filling one's belly
Until you have seen the absolutebr ahman.
Says Narsinh, without beholding the Essence
One wastes his birth precious asChi nt amani Jewel.
Unless and until you have grasped the essence of the Self
Vain are all your efforts and like unseasonal rains,
You have wasted your human birth.

poem by Narsinh Mehta
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The instinct to command others, in its primitive essence, is a carnivorous, altogether bestial and savage instinct. Under the influence of the mental development of man, it takes on a somewhat more ideal form and becomes somewhat ennobled, presenting itself as the instrument of reason and the devoted servant of that abstraction, or political fiction, which is called the public good. But in its essence it remains just as baneful, and it becomes even more so when, with the application of science, it extends its scope and intensifies the power of its action. If there is a devil in history, it is this power principle.

quote by Mikhail Bakunin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being And Nothingness

i am nothing
so i must make something out of
my being nothing
this sense
must make an essence

this watch must tell time
otherwise
it is not a clock at all

this poet
must write the poems
to be this poet

to become
one must make out
his essence
for from nothing
in the actual doing
is this something

i am
not because i am for now
the way you see and touch me
i am because i am becoming
i am because i am being

i die, what am i?
a mist
see, i am not even the air
i am not even what you think you see

now, i am nothing

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alzheimer's Disease

Twice,
There would be goodbyes...
Spoken.
With hearts broken.
And words uncertain,
If heard and understood.

~As an essence known,
Would flow to go.~

Twice,
A familiar light of life...
Would flicker to slowly dim.
As those loved ones and friends,
Stood by to witness...
Without a defense to what commenced.

~As an essence known,
Would flow to go.~

And...
Just once,
In the end...
Alzheimer's Disease,
Would finally win...
This long and emotional battle.

~As an essence known,
Would flow to go...
Away.~

Dedicated To:
Those who knew and suffered through,
The losing of close family members and friends...
To Alzheimer's Disease.

'You are loved and missed,
Clara Louise Countryman Pertillar...
By all who knew and loved you too.'
My wonderful Grandmother.

~lsp~

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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It Is All About It

it is all about it: friendship
cliques, categories, groupings,

the habit of having to scratch your back
and you scratching mine too

gone is the merit
and the justification of the thing-in-itself
the essence of essence
the value of value

everything arbitrary
nothing consequential anymore

know me and you go to the top
keep the code of success
we live we die we make things
as a team

odd man out, go, and be infamous.
without the background, you assume no color.

i am tired. I do not want to move.
let me stay here. On this spot, i remain

myself.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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