Tatooed Drums
Crushed silence dissolving into the milestone of the whole truth
Recognition of emarald paddy fields
River is river
Roads are roads
The path to the path to the path to the path
No shortcut to enlightened
reason
iIlogical contexts creation of meanings
Blue fields in the photographic image of the play-world
Related quotes
On That Path
I'm on that path,
So was my mother,
I'm on that path,
Just like my brother.
I'm on that path,
I didn't know my father,
I'm on that path,
And i am the master.
I'm on that path,
upon the good, straying from evil.
I'm on that path-
There is no cheating.
I'm on that path,
God knows i need him.
I'm on that path,
and i hope i'm never leaving ;)
the HEARTbraker
poem by Madina Morr
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Do You Really Want to Know Me?
if you know what a river is
perhaps you will know a man
i am a man and you will say to the river
i have known a man and i have known a river
there is no way that i will never you in full
you shall brag to the clouds in your mind
they drift
there is no permanence
permanence is an illusion
a river
a cloud
water
air
and this is where we must start
educating air
if you step upon my heart and tell me
i have know everything about you and you must not change and that is what you are
you are wrong
for i am a river that encircles a mountain
but i know a path but the paths do not know me
and so i keep on moving
changing paths and what path was it that you have seen yesterday
is no longer the path now
you must accept you have never known a river
because a river is man
and man is not forever man
he is a river that always escapes the hold of your mind
that frame that has walls
without even the possibility of another opening for stars....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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The Paths
The path to destruction is invisible,
It is travelled on by the wise,
Giving an enterprise to behold,
Like a gesture too meek.
The paths are long and hard,
In one complete stroke you have moved,
In a single movement the damage is received
As the paths lead to roads leading to fatigue.
This path we allow on the rest of the world
Is narrow and far too long to achieve,
Success needed wending like a path,
A meandering path carried a difference.
Only a road is higher than a path
For it is tortuous in a full condition,
Its heavenly splendour is exciting
Like the eating of apples attached to a tree.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Lifes path
There are so many paths in life
I guess I could say
I ve walked them all
The right path
The wrong path
The path of pain
The path of good
The path of bad
Which path do I now take
At this present time of life
The path I take is the path of pain.
The path of hurt
So many paths I have walked
But im lost in the path
The path of pain
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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My...
Heart of…
Heart of my heart,
Heart of my dream,
Heart of my hope.
The path…
The path of good-byes,
The path of heart ache,
The path of what was never meant to be,
The path of me.
The truth…
The truth of no truth,
The truth of what it was,
The truth of the past,
The truth of fear.
My good-bye…
My heart…
My path…
My truth…
My...
poem by Andrea Szyhowski
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River of sorrow
Rivers are like the life we share,
Sometimes we go fast,
Sometimes we go slow,
My river is slow and filled with sorrow,
It seems endless,
Never turns and always follows the same path,
Far from anyone or any place,
Alone my river stands and alone it shall stay,
The sorrowful river with a path so untold,
Will my river of sorrow ever cross paths with one other,
poem by Samantha Guinen
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A path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you. Look at every path closely and deliberately. Try it as many times as you think necessary. Then ask yourself alone, one question. Does this path have a heart? If it does, the path is good; if it doesn't, it is of no use.
Carlos Castaneda in The Teachings of Don Juan (1968)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lonely Path
One one lonely Lonely lonely one Lonely lonely Londoner I am very very lonely Loneliness is killing me in a lonely path I am frustrated Lonely at heart At the lonely path of London street, i walk on a lonely path The path that is wide is noisy very busy The lonely path is the narrow path very peaceful We all want peace
poem by Olayemi Ayo
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Divergent Faith
A path; continued In time
For self interest
Not of mine, other
This path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
The path in between
Two segments of brain.
Thin, enkindled with light of own.
Difference! The path in between two segments
Knows how to meet with.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Drenched late autumn with
Glamorous night & quiet mist
Likely go in for convergence.
Dew laps faith
This dropp of faith
Seems to dark
Dazzling spark.
The path of late autumn
Encircle the wreath of faith
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Eternal path
An elisium of solemn soul
Who burn with passion.
Time; a narrow passing mate
Although the path live
In the course time.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
poem by Onon Sarker
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Blue River
(words & music by evans - tobias)
Blue river, it cant be found on any map that I know
But its the place where lonely lovers all go
To cry their tears, blue river
It winds along a path of heartache and pain
Of broken dreams from lovin someone in vain
Like I loved you, and baby I still do
I held you so tight
You were out of my sight
Im feelin so low
But I gotta go
Blue river because you never really cared about me
From now on baby thats where Im gonna be
Cryin over you, by the river of blue
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A story …nothing to say
Flying in the sky wasn't enough
I choose the path to have which was rough.
Dignity and pride moving along with me,
I was the brave one whom all want see.
Like the sky was not enough as much as I thought,
I choose the path but soon the path trouble me too.
Now I am helpless neither I am in sky nor in the path,
What could I do except to survive, cry or die.
Answer
Oh! Little fellow sorry to hear you
But your mouth is not the only mouth to listen,
And your ear is not that which only listen what you speak.
Can you tolerate all of them as you are,
nor in the sky and the path you choose.
I m sorry I can do nothing coz in sky difficult to fly,
In path difficult to survive.
Do what you like, return alone in the sky or choose the next path as you like.
But thing about those dam dignity and pride,
Which will kick you through out the life.
poem by Amar Ghimire
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A Dark illusion
Walking in a dark path
No help reached out to me
Walking in a dark path
Blind and still can't see
Walking in a dark path
Heart beats no longer heard
Walking in a dark path
Not even the sound of a bird
Walking in a dark path
Where am i is this real?
Walking in a dark path
No, it cant be, I've healed.
poem by Yolanda Salas
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Many roads lead to the path, but basically there are only two: reason and practice.
quote by Bodhidharma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look at every path closely and deliberately, then ask ourselves this crucial question: Does this path have a heart? If it does, then the path is good. If it doesn't, it is of no use.
quote by Carlos Castaneda
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The rise and the set
New path: I am curious of.
Known path: it comforts me.
Familiar path: it is boring.
Persons too to me are like that.
29.11.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Path Through The Snow
BARE and sunshiny, bright and bleak,
Rounded cold as a dead maid's cheek,
Folded white as a sinner's shroud,
Or wandering angel's robes of cloud.--
Well I know, well I know
Over the fields the path through the snow.
Narrow and rough it lies between
Wastes where the wind sweeps, biting keen:
Every step of the slippery road
Marks where some weary foot has trod;
Who'll go, who'll go
After the rest on the path through the snow?
They who would tread it must walk alone,
Silent and steadfast--one by one:
Dearest to dearest can only say,
'My heart! I'll follow thee all the way,
As we go, as we go
Each after each on this path through the snow.'
It may be under that western haze
Lurks the omen of brighter days;
That each sentinel tree is quivering
Deep at its core with the sap of spring,
And while we go, while we go,
Green grass-blades pierce thro' the glittering snow.
It may be the unknown path will tend
Never to any earthly end,
Die with the dying day obscure,
And never lead to a human door:
That none know who did go
Patiently once on this path through the snow.
No matter, no matter! the path shines plain;
These pure snow-crystals will deaden pain;
Above, like stars in the deep blue dark,
Eyes that love us look down and mark.
Let us go, let us go,
Whither heaven leads in the path thro' the snow.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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I am-Dorothea Speaks
'I have crossed many roads, she said
but taken none.
My path has always been sideways
rather than straight.
So long has been my rebellion
that I remain the only one
who has never settled
and now I am a majority of one.
And I have my rewards for all this
but one that I miss
is not having a path about which reminisce
and this always makes me feel odd person out
at housewarmings and weddings
And there I reject the idea that I am the bridesmaid
no, I am the adventuress
the one who went to Africa
traveled to Europe on hope and fifteen cents;
made friends the world over
taught several generations of kids
but never had any of my own.
Never had a man propose.
And I am not alone
nor am I lonely;
I am.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Narrow Gate
Path of the righteous.
Path rarely tread.
Path eternal.
poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Free River
Free River flow, Free River
so cold, Free River
you’re getting old.
Free River don’t cry, Free River
you’ve run dry.
I still see you through my youth’s eyes.
Free River you told no lies, Free River
your path has been made, Free River
all things change.
Free River you made it to the sea.
The friends I swam with once
are now gone, left only me.
Free River you’re worth more than gold, Free River
I've grown old.
I’ve lived by you my whole life and
I’ve left my seed through my wife, Free River
I lie at your shore; now dry,
Free River it’s my time to die.
poem by Patrick Dumas
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