This World
In this world of acres there is all being,
Collecting weeds to kill and degrade,
All creation subjugates the senses.
My world is full of weeds my way,
Killing them of their existence,
Letting the universe expand.
This endangerment of the community gathers,
Speaking of floods and ruination at once,
The waves transform, tsunami ensue and annex.
This day is stronger with pity than the rest,
It reminds me of death and hardship grand,
This night is surging with water, and never dies.
poem by Naveed Akram
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At The Tide's Will
WHEN the tide came surging in
To the beach it bore
Drift-wood and brown weeds —
These — and nothing more!
As the stranded weeds and wood
Borne by the sea,
Tossed at the wind's will,
Even so are we!
When the tide went out again
From the beach, it bore
Drift-wood and brown weeds —
These — and nothing more!
Little peace is ours indeed,
Little rest we know —
Weeds at the Tide's will
Tossed to and fro!
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Kill Instincts To Smile At Death!
Don't kill animals, you are more animal than human,
more and more you learn,
You find animals live in you, Kill their instincts in own your mind,
Humanity and love are that strange light,
in which instincts dry and die and vanish,
you need not find and kill them,
Or you need not banish!
Patience and compassion grow quick and wide,
Under them how can weeds like instinct and ego grow?
Don't kill your desires, not allow them to kill you!
be better gardner of own mind,
neither prune them,
nor water
Only plant good virtues and thoughts and take care of deeds,
Care and nurture only love,
Like to live like peaceful dove,
Love that takes care of them remove all pests and weeds!
Don't kill the time, use it well
Some day time may bring you the death,
Do well here, living satisfied,
Welcome your new friend, with a warm hand,
'Hello, my dear Death, how do you do? '
Take this body and mind and everything,
They were always yours, and you are the real owner,
I was that homeless, nameless, formless, tenant,
But never I was hopeless or
Faithless!
And I am that vacating, and you need not force me out!
You could see me,
who I am
Unlike my past lives,
I am now not even that absolute soul of universe,
I am awaken to sleep in my awareness!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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In six days (in answer to Ina Rousseau)
In six day from nothing, only darkness,
He constructed light, solid mass, water and the earth
caused things to come into existence perfectly as if it was everlasting
and his gaze had fallen constantly
on this world,
a place where love was ruling without strive,
a place in the universe
where people were created in His image
and by own choice man himself brought destruction
listening to a obscure being,
letting ruination circle out much wider into posterity
and where hiding from God whispering to each other
and that which was once holy, noble and perfect
had fallen changing to dust and ash.
[Reference: Genesis by Ina Rousseau.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Fibonacci - Water (Variation 1)
Water
Water forms
Weeds in water
Weeds in water form patterns
Patterns form of weeds in water over stones
Over stones and weeds water forms patterns reflecting
sunlight and soul of water
©2009 Forrest Hainline
poem by Forrest Hainline
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The Weeds or The Wheat
When all of creation, for eternity, bow at The Lord's feet,
Will you be separated and gathered with the weeds or the wheat?
Those who believe and are saved, whom The Lord calls the wheat,
Will humbly and thankfully cast all their reward at His feet.
While all of those who continued in their own willful deeds,
The Lord will separate from the wheat and mark them as weeds.
While the weeds, who were deceived by the evil one into unbelief,
Will suffer for their choice throughout all eternity with no relief.
The wheat will be gathered by The Lord and brought into His barn,
Taken to their home in Heaven where they will face no more harm.
However, all of the weeds will be bundled and tossed into the fire,
Cast into eternal darkness, although this is not The Lord's desire.
The Lord's will is not eternal damnation for any man or nation,
But that all men will truly believe and accept His gift of Salvation.
The patience of The Lord is truly a mystery and something to cherish,
For in His unparalleled love for the world He wants no one to perish.
As people in the world, that He created, truly get colder and colder,
Christians He set apart for a purpose should get bolder and bolder.
The Christian's boldness should be filled with His eternal desire,
To share The Good News with all and so snatch them from the fire.
(Copyright © 06/2002)
Avoiding The Weeds
Come out from among the strife, unto The Savior, Jesus Christ,
From the weeds of worldliness, unto the Son of Righteousness;
Out from a world of dark despair, into The Lord’s love and care,
From a world of darkened blight, into The Lord’s Glorious Light.
Around us is such pain and strife, in this world, where sin is rife,
With many hindered by the weeds, as they attend to their needs,
Providing for the family’s care, they find temptation everywhere,
So in the darkness of the night, we truly need The Savior’s Light.
Weeds surround us in many ways, as we live life in darker days,
Even finding their way inside, The Church, for whom Jesus died,
Into the Church of Jesus Christ, His people, bought with a price,
As darkness finds its way within, the Body, God saved from sin.
In an increasingly darkened time, by our Lord God’s own design,
He is our Strength and a Tower, for believers to flee to any hour;
To this Tower the Righteous flee, Believers, just like you and me,
In this Tower strength is found, for us to stand on higher ground.
As God’s Truth a soul heeds, the man of God avoids the weeds,
With freedom in Christ our Lord, while the weeds can go ignored,
With our Savior right by our side, in Christ’s Spirit we shall abide,
To live daily, in the Light of God, led by our Lord’s staff and rod.
(Copyright ©04/2010)
An Old Tree
An old tree stands by the edge of a cliff,
awaiting, awaiting the waters to lift.
The waves he cherishes like God's gift,
but through weeds and mountains he must first sift.
Lonely, pleading like a beggar,
he looks to the sea and wishes to tell her
to raise her waters with a good will,
so he could stand alone in the Home of Thrill.
An old tree stands alone on a hill,
forsaken and abandoned, he slowly dies,
as he watches the world's ages fall into a ghyll,
he sets his heart to where the sea-nymph cries.
In mimicry of the sea-nymph's tears,
he sends his roots cascading down the hills
like a waterfall of knowledge collected through the years.
What a sight to see! The spirit with sadness it fills.
An old tree once stood by the edge of a cliff,
waiting for some water to rise.
Now he's fallen, eaten by flies,
as he lays on the rocks, yet nobody cries.
What a life to have lived,
sad and alone.
As he dies, he knows he won't be missed.
No one grieves him but them he'll forgive,
even if they throw him like broken bones.
Yet even at death's gate his wish is dismissed.
His grave stands above the sea,
ever close to the waters free.
Death is cruel and ignores the plea,
And so water never reached by old friend the tree.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Life for Lord
Lord,
You bring the world to me,
The world full of knowledge,
The world full of greatness,
The world full of winner,
The world full of miracle,
The world full of shit,
The world full of Satan,
The world full of faggot,
and maggot
I worshipped you,
I wish to steal your heart,
I wish to have you,
I wish to be you,
I wish to like you,
So nobody will hurt me,
and kill me,
I am one,
I am you,
No,
I am me,
I am still me,
From beginning until the end..
poem by Nur Jawahir Mat Jan
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The Garden
CHOKED with ill weeds my garden lay a-dying,
Hard was the ground, no bud had heart to blow,
Yet shone your smile there, with your soft breath sighing:
'Have patience, for some day the flowers will grow.'
Some weeds you killed, you made a plot and tilled it;
'My plot,' you said, 'rich harvest yet shall give,'
With sun-warmed seeds of hope your dear hands filled it,
With rain-soft tears of pity bade them live.
So, weak among the weeds that had withstood you,
One little pure white flower grew by-and-by;
You could not pluck my flower--alas! how should you?
You sowed the seed, but let the blossom die.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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What a World
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Were even a young child
Is afraid of going home
A world in which a man
Will take innocence from a child
Now their lives are lived in fear
The memories going wild
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Where you'll only be accepted
If your a f***ing clone
A world so full of s***
A world so full of lies
Can you spot the liars?
Can you see it in their eyes?
A world where self expression
Is pushed and made to fall
Despised and destroyed
To boost the egos of them all
A world where daddys hit
A world where mommys scream
Both killing their children
Killing their hopes killing their dreams
A world that makes you crazy
But does that make me insane?
A world thats without morals
A world thats without shame
A world that seems so dark
A world that seems so cold
A world that kills the young
A world that scars the old
A world that kills our hopes
Shoots them out of the sky
A world that kills us all
And makes us want to die.
poem by Jocelynn Halbauer
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Snorkling
as she drops her body
to a clear sea water
on refracted weeds
and blue and silver fish
as she takes into her mouth
the breathing apparatus
he looks at her with so much pity
i know there is no more love
he could have let her go to the depths of death
but we were there looking at him
we are not angry, we are indifferent
we snorkle to see beauty and not ugliness
we keep on breathing
we all want to be alive despite the storm.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Hate That Destroys The World
when hate arrives with silent fury like a
tsunami,
so many lives are broken
so many houses are buried beneath
the muddy waters
have pity for the little girl
who was playing with her doll
when your gigantic waves
buried her alive,
that little boy was climbing the apple tree
to gather the ripe ones
mothers were frying bacon in the kitchen
as fathers went to work all day
in the ceramics factory
it was your hate that washed and buried them
all alive
and now
when you are at peace on
a subsiding fury
what do you have to see?
an island of debris
a long line of hungry people waiting for food and water
slippery roads
muddy feet
an open ground without shelter
lost dogs roaming the streets
an island that is warped in time in utter
distress
a sudden loneliness
the whole world watches
with horror and pity
inside you is another world full of guilt
what your hate has destroyed
you can never pay...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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By Morning Twilight
Night, like a dying mother,
Eyes her young offspring, Day.
The birds are dreamily piping.
And O, my love, my darling!
The night is life ebb'd away:
Away beyond our reach!
A sea that has cast us pale on the beach;
Weeds with the weeds and the pebbles
That hear the lone tamarisk rooted in sand
Sway
With the song of the sea to the land.
poem by George Meredith
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Waiting On The Wheat Harvest
as you sow brothers sisters so you wheat harvest reap
as a grain of wheat dies germinates bears fruit to heap
Jesus will completely clean up threshing floor gather his wheat
chaff he will burn up with unquenchable fire hell suffering heat
an enemy came in over sowed weeds in among seed wheat
reapers harvest collect weeds burn them saving only wheat
Satan demands sifts men as wheat to blow away in sifting wind
Son of man will send angels to gather chosen ones from ill wind
a grain of wheat falls into the ground dies then bears fruit new life
so hate soul temptation in this world safeguard soul for eternal life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Letting go of the bad and showing the world who i am
I am tired of feeling hurt
I am tired of feeling used
I am tired of feeling unworth
I am letting go of you
I am letting go of pain
I am letting go of shame
I am letting go of darkness
I am letting go of bitterness
I am letting go of all the bad and only waiting for the good
I am taking in the light and coming out from underneath my hood
I will show the world my eyes and my smile
I am showing the world My laughter and ability to be wild
I am showing the world its wrong and that I will go on
I am showing the world I am in control
I am showing the world all the things i'm letting go
I am showing the world my joy and my tears
I am showing the world my screams and my fears
I am showing the world who i am and where I've been
I am showing the world all that i can
I will show the world who i am inside and out
I will show the world i don't care if its me they talk about
poem by Jean Pullman
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Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed. The entire universe need not arm itself to crush him. A vapour, a drop of water, suffices to kill him. But if the universe were to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which killed him, because he knows that he dies and the advantage which the universe has over him; the universe knows nothing of this.
quote by Blaise Pascal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shell-Music
YOU with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Slim and so white
In the moonlight?
'Oh, I hear surging and shouting and singing,
The sea-folk at market — their little bells ringing,
The tall weeds about them, the green world above!
Oh, blithe are the pedlars of ribbons and laces,
Yet blither and sweeter upon the wide spaces
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Waves at your feet,
White and so sweet?
'Oh, I hear cooing and kissing and cooing,
The sound of sea-folk in their coral groves wooing,
The red branches round them, the green world above!
Oh, sweet are the songs of the witching sea-daughters,
But sweeter, far sweeter, upon the wide waters,
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
Large eyes aglow,
Forehead of snow?
'Oh, I hear shouting and sobbing and sighing,
The sounds of the sea-folk in battle-rage vieing,
The torn weeds about them, the green world above!
The merman may shout as he stumbles and slaughters,
But, ever and ever, I hear on the waters
The footfalls of Love!'
You with the shell to your ear,
What do you hear,
As you stand there,
Pale and so fair?
'Oh, as frost on the seaways the foam-spaces glisten;
My heart is the shell, to its echoes I listen;
Red petals, rose petals around and above!
Oh sweeter, far sweeter, than little bells ringing
Or market-men shouting, or mermaidens singing,
The footfalls of Love!'
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Weeds
In the backyard
Of my heart
I put some seed of love
But weeds grew too fast
Though I used herbicide
But they know how to survive
I threw out the rose, now I love
The weeds for their survival instinct
And power to grow everywhere
Without following any row
My mind follows the heart
And grows too fast like weeds
To pervade to hover
The minds and souls
Of people all over.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Don't water your friend's garden when yours is full of weeds.
Late Night Rubbish
Why am I up said the man
Sleep calls me but I remain silent
Like death at a party
Only alil heavier
Maybe it's all the hair
Then again
Maybe it's all the stress
Built up like a skyscraper
Only I don't touch the sky
I only dream of doing that
Ill scrape the sky clean and move on to outer space
Where being alone
Is nature
Do I belong with the stars?
Doomed to one day destroy myself
And everything close by?
Naw
I belong where I am
To make a difference
Without me the world would be different
How?
I can't explain
But the you in a different
Universe could
And should
In a universe somewhere
I know I am king
Which makes me royalty
Not like the burger guy
More like the
Kill hundreds of people dude
And conquer
And conquest
Only to be assassinated
But by that time
I'd be ready
Who better to kill a king then himself?
The throne dies with me
But enough of that
Multiverse a can be confusing
Maybe I'm the universe where I'm ugly
Depressing
But if that is true
It must be the universe where
I'm confident also
Unless
I'm in distress
I do confess
When I stay up thoughts get deep
I wish there was less evil and more good
I can't sleep
But I wish I could.
poem by Jeremy Rascon
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