Hunchback Pilgrim and the singing mountain!
Hardly the poor pilgrim climbed the mountain
Before the sunset and he rests on the peak.
Peak murmurs like in a prayer;
'Hermit died a long ago and the hermitage was blown
in the stormy days.
Since that day I tried to come down
But later on I came to know that I cannot move
Like the old sage! '
* To be trusted is a greter compliment than to be loved.
-George Macdonald
[A folklore; Full Moon nights they hear songs and the bell rings in the hermitage! ]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.
quote by George MacDonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Volcano
Where is the poor man's wealth?
I shouted in a dream.
Where is the poor man's dignity?
I cried in a dream.
I saw the black smoke
blowing from the mountain's peak.
Lava, the earth's blood river
flowed everywhere.
A clergyman's hermitage
miser's money, beggar's till and prostitutes beauty
all converted to stone.
Farmers, fields, priceless graveyards
Kings, Queens, Horses, Elephants and the forest too
All had been covered with Lava.
Only the God has escaped and remained in the sky
because he is not a human being.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Monsoon at peak! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Monsoon at peak
I hear a monologue-
Rain speaks…
Monsoon at peak,
Thatched roofs
Leak…
Monsoon at peak,
Corn on cob
Wins over coffee…
Monsoon at peak,
Can I go out, mother?
A child pleads…
Monsoon at peak,
A boy steals a look
At a girl soaked to skin…
Monsoon at peak,
Roads flooded,
Where is MCD?
Monsoon at peak,
Umbrellas
New fashion accessory…
Monsoon at peak,
Sun gets much needed
Rest…
Monsoon at peak,
Bathes
Foliage and trees.
Monsoon at peak
Schools closed
Children squeal,
Wish, it rains
Everyday of the week…
Monsoon at peak,
Leave your shoes at the door-
Mother screams…
Monsoon at peak,
Driver stops
To wipe the wind shield…
Monsoon at peak,
Open pavements
Home to many,
Wear deserted look …
Monsoon at peak,
Wet laundry-
Sun rise, please.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Peak
Peak is here
Peak is there
Go here go there
Go anywhere
and find peak
only peak.
Reach peak
find chick
with chic
be chief.
Chirp, chirp
keep, keep.
Where is peak
where is peak
It is only you
who can pick peak.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A moment in time! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Summer at peak;
a young man
in a white singlet.
Summer at peak;
a young girl
in short sleeves.
Summer at peak;
A child licks
Ice cream.
Summer at peak;
an infant
On inhaler.
Summer at peak;
A young couple
Cosy in cinema hall seats.
Summer at peak;
A vendor
Sells lime water.
Summer at peak;
Gulmohar petals
lie limp on grass.
Summer at peak;
Dust haze,
Road rage.
Summer at peak;
beads of sweat
slide on lips.
Summer at peak,
Street wars,
Blame it on heat.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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God Here I Am
Had walked the path
Had climbed this rocky mountain
Had done with boulders
Had done with thorn pricks
Here I am on my knees
Up the stars twinkle
Up the moon gives a wink
Up the clouds clear, feathery soft
Up my arms in supplication
Here I am in between peak and sky
Voyages were done
Voyages of a lonely soul seeking
Voyages of time and space clouded
Voyages where tunnel lights dimmed
Here I am in peak and a cliff dead bones below!
God here
God there
God for peace
God of fate
Here I am your timely message I trumpet
Here my little wings will do
Here my blood vessels will do
Here my Trumpet will do
Here my soul will fly and call for wisdom
Here at the peak I am yours as made be!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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After Missing the Recluse on the Western Mountain
To your hermitage here on the top of the mountain
I have climbed, without stopping, these ten miles.
I have knocked at your door, and no one answered;
I have peeped into your room, at your seat beside the table.
Perhaps you are out riding in your canopied chair,
Or fishing, more likely, in some autumn pool.
Sorry though I am to be missing you,
You have become my meditation —
The beauty of your grasses, fresh with rain,
And close beside your window the music of your pines.
I take into my being all that I see and hear,
Soothing my senses, quieting my heart;
And though there be neither host nor guest,
Have I not reasoned a visit complete?
... After enough, I have gone down the mountain.
Why should I wait for you any longer?
poem by Qiu Wei, translated by Witter Bynner
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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I seek a Mountain
Gazing the mountain from my windowpane
A green monument seen estranged
Sandwiched in between clouds
Echo of thunder cried aloud
At the eastern peak, where misty morning
Climbed over the cliff, scaling
Birds glided across, like rainbow rising
Spreaded their wings, streaming
Through the sheer rock faces
Leaving trails in phases
The pinnacles and crags are mouth watering
Tempted and lured climbers, a reckoning
Up above the northern peak
Zephyr marching oh so weak
Forming an adiabatic
Submontane filled with organic
At the bottom, river terraces
One of the mountain multi faces
The crystalline steep slopes
Decorated with climbing ropes
Heavenly as seen from above
A sign of a divine love
You flowed, like an Andean Amazon
Our love grown full-blown
I desire a woman
I seek a mountain
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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The blossom only once
A woman gets her peak
when she is explored with fervour,
as if she was under a beast.
A man gets his peak
when he explores her with ardour,
as if she was a goat to a wolf..
We have mortgaged our peak
to the monogamous, mono-gyandri system.
Hence, all nights are dull other than
the first night to each couple.
09.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Nada Que Nada....
at the peak of all these
ramblings, perorations,
at the height of artistic leanings
those that hide behind the
revolutions of the masses
offering a pyre of those
innocent bodies those that steal
a loaf of bread and a slice of cheese
at the peak of all these poems,
so many of them, all subjected to the
torture of the master of
governance, all foxes and manipulative
machines
designed for the preservation of
power
at the peak of all these speeches and
rhyming poetry
what is there to feel? what is there to
reap as fruits?
at the peak of all these restlessness
one can hear the toll of the church bell
another funeral, another march,
ash, incense, last stone, wooden niche,
shovels, mud, heavy rain,
sobs that we always hear and yet keeps
on reckoning, such a short time
badly spent for the fury that will never be
consumed, a problem never solved,
a crisis always in whatever time in whatever
nth life, what is the essence of all these?
let the silence do it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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mountain temple
the clouds float
from peak to peak
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Thru The Eyes Of A Child
When I was a child I climbed the tallest tree that I could find
To see all the beauties that GOD left behind.
I've never been to any snow capped mountain
Or ever climbed the highest peak
But he shows me words and lays them at my feet.
I see the baseball field where my friends and I would play
And I see the patch of grass where my head would lay.
I see myself laying there as the world passes by
Counting every cloud that's high up in the sky.
I feel the summer breeze as it passes through my hair
Ever so gentle- much more than I could bare.
I climbed up higher at least sixty feet above the ground
Just so I could hear all those familiar sounds.
The birds singing tunes to delight the ears
Wiping away all those childish fears.
I gazed across the park taking in all the sights
Watching younger children in the sprinklers
Jumping with delight.
I felt myself getting light headed, but not because of the height
But because of the words which I knew I could not fight.
So I climbed down from the tree, and said a little prayer
For the words he had given me
I knew that I must share.
This was my first inkling for what was in store for me
That was when I knew- I had to write poetry.
poem by Louis Rams
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Lunch Break: Peak Hour
I see it all through my window it seems
Never failing like millions of bees
All that is wrong
No time will be won
All they need to do-o-o-o
What can be done?
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
Minds are subject to what should be done
Problem solved, time cannot be won
One hour a day
One hour at night
Sees crowds of people
All meant for flight
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
It makes me want to run out and tell them
Theyve got time
Take a step back out
And look in at their debt
And their time
Minds are subject to what should be done
Problem solved, time cannot be won
One hour a day
One hour at night
Sees crowds of people
All meant for flight
Peak hour, peak hour, peak hour
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peak Hour
I see it all through my window it seems.
Never failing, like millions of eels.
All that is wrong,
No time to be won.
Only to do
What can be done.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
Minds are subject to what should be done.
Problem solved, time cannot be won.
One hour a day,
One hour a night
Sees crowds of people
Home-aimed for flight.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
It makes me want to run out and tell them
They've got time.
Take a step back out and warn them
I've found out I've got time.
Minds are subject to what should be done.
Problem solved, time cannot be won.
One hour a day,
One hour a night
Sees crowds of people
Home-aimed for flight.
Peak hour,
Peak hour,
Peak hour.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Footsteps Of The Fools
when you are not there yet
you aspire for it, it is like a magical mountain
the apex of which you dream to step upon,
and every day of your life
you prepare
to be there, every step is carefully done
every strategy studied so well,
until you reach there, and what do you see?
the plains below, just like another scene
anywhere
you hear the song of the wind there
you touch the fog
you feel the rugged texture of its soil
orchids hang on its sides
but they are all the same
in all those places that you have been
there is really no difference
and you come down
and others who see you adore you
and ask you questions
about the song at the peak of that mountain by the wind
how does it feel to be on top?
you tell them that it is all the same
that there is nothing that makes that peak so significant
that you devote all your life
trying to reach it
but no one believes you and you regret to see them
following the footsteps of the fools over and over again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Summer the best
Monthly cycles are for women.
Daily cycles are for men.
She is at peak in the midmonth
And he, at peak in the midnight.
Both have got their peak in summer.
Summer, not spring, must get credit.
07.12.200
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Escapee
Train is full and hardly I embarked
on the way a girl jumped to the train
and somebody in the compartment who pulled the chain
it stopped at once.
We delayed to reach the station called Eternity
Oh! someone has pick pocketed my wallet hastily.
All my hard earned money is there.
Heavy rains and it took sometimes to seized.
I heard a sound of a tolling bell in a distant temple
and I see a gloomy mountain through the mist.
Beloved! still, I am at the beneath of the mountain
and there is no way marker to the peak.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Cricket
Reaching peak is a dream
Cricket is viamedia
To reach the peak
Cricket is a dream.
Reaching peak is a dream
Life is a dream
And dream comes true
Cricket is true.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream is real
Pursue the dream
To enjoy life.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream is cricket
Cricket sings the song
That enlightened life.
Reaching peak is a dream
Dream comes true
And in truth only
life becomes sincere and fluent.
Everything is cricket
And cricket that makes
both happy and sad
is the mixture that is life.
Life is cricket
Enjoy it
Sing it
And make hurrah.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Elle And The Moon
She is on the moon,
I see her every
Full moon
And at peak
Of her eclipse.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Mooring at Twilight in Yuyi District
Furling my sail near the town of Huai,
I find for harbour a little cove
Where a sudden breeze whips up the waves.
... The sun is growing dim now and sinks in the dusk.
People are coming home. The bright mountain-peak darkens.
Wildgeese fly down to an island of white weeds.
... At midnight I think of a northern city-gate,
And I hear a bell tolling between me and sleep.
poem by Wei Yingwu, translated by Witter Bynner
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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