Ultimate Truth
Wherefore do thou pride in figure
decay and perish is universal
all the forms whatever their nature
self destruct in course of time.
Don't you think you are different
though pleasingly attired
and lovingly balmd
with aides acquired.
Keep in mind
and just ponder:
each face is modeled on a skull
all men are naked beneath their clothes
and towards destruction bound
is the ultimate truth profound.
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Why Sit'st Thou By That Ruin'd Hall?
'Why sit'st thou by that ruin'd hall,
Thou aged carle so stern and grey?
Dost thou its former pride recall,
Or ponder how it pass'd away?'-
'Know'st thou not me?' the Deep Voice cried;
'So long enjoy'd, so oft misused-
Alternate, in thy fickle pride,
Desired, neglected, and accused!
'Before my breath, like blazing flax,
Man and his marvels pass away!
And changing empires wane and wax,
Are founded, flourish, and decay,
'Redeem mine hours - the space is brief -
While in my glass the sand-grains shiver,
And measureless thy joy or grief,
When Time and thou shalt part for ever!'
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified, The
O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
Whose strong right hand has ever been
Their stay and dwelling place!
Before the mountains heav'd their heads
Beneath Thy forming hand,
Before this ponderous globe itself
Arose at Thy command;
That Pow'r which rais'd and still upholds
This universal frame,
From countless, unbeginning time
Was ever still the same.
Those mighty periods of years
Which seem to us so vast,
Appear no more before Thy sight
Than yesterday that's past.
Thou giv'st the word: Thy creature, man,
Is to existence brought;
Again Thou say'st, 'Ye sons of men,
Return ye into nought!'
Thou layest them, with all their cares,
In everlasting sleep;
As with a flood Thou tak'st them off
With overwhelming sweep.
They flourish like the morning flow'r,
In beauty's pride array'd;
But long ere night cut down it lies
All wither'd and decay'd.
poem by Robert Burns
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The First Six Verses Of The Ninetieth Psalm Versified
O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
Whose strong right hand has ever been
Their stay and dwelling place!
Before the mountains heav'd their heads
Beneath Thy forming hand,
Before this ponderous globe itself
Arose at Thy command;
That Pow'r which rais'd and still upholds
This universal frame,
From countless, unbeginning time
Was ever still the same.
Those mighty periods of years
Which seem to us so vast,
Appear no more before Thy sight
Than yesterday that's past.
Thou giv'st the word: Thy creature, man,
Is to existence brought;
Again Thou say'st, 'Ye sons of men,
Return ye into nought!'
Thou layest them, with all their cares,
In everlasting sleep;
As with a flood Thou tak'st them off
With overwhelming sweep.
They flourish like the morning flow'r,
In beauty's pride array'd;
But long ere night cut down it lies
All wither'd and decay'd.
poem by Robert Burns
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(Women) The Other Side Of Laughter
w. m. d. ”s does not mean weapons of mass destruction
But! Women! Men s destruction.
They attract you with their looks and charms
And bodies that will put you in “ self destruct”.
But to them that’s not enough.
They want to control your mind from
Now till the end of time.
Like a hamster in a play pen
With a beginning but no end.
You climb on that “spinning wheel of life”
And run like hell
While they watch and laugh
And ring that bell.
They are truly men s destruction!
And I think that’s the way it will always be.
(Ha-ha enjoy it women of the world)
poem by Louis Rams
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Wherefore Art Thou Romeo?
I see thee still in doublet wide,
And hose well kept, a world too slack,
So long and lean thou wert allied,
It struck me, with that curious back,
The Zoo giraffe. Thy brow was black,
Thy speech was awkward, action slow.
I whispered at thy first attack:
“And wherefore art thou Romeo?”
Thou wert then fifty and cross-eyed;
For acting never hadst the knack.
With stilted bow and Irving stride
Thou tookst the stage, and Jill and Jack
Both sniggered, when with damned clack
Thou talkedst of moons, and wrecked the show.
And here by Heaven, thou art back.
Oh, wherefore art thou Romeo?
This fellow was a lad of pride,
No prinked-out fool, with just a snack
Of bounder, and by Fate allied
To pale effeminates who smack
The rouge about. Thou art a quack!
Thy treatment brings the lover low.
Thou’rt living still our hearts to crack;
Oh, wherefore art thou Romeo?
ENVOY
No egotism dost thou lack,
Great scorn hast for the rival pro.,
And talk’st thou of thy art. Alack!
And wherefore art, thou Romeo?
poem by Edward George Dyson
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The Wounded Eagle
Eagle! this is not thy sphere!
Warrior-bird, what seek'st thou here?
Wherefore by the fountain's brink
Doth thy royal pinion sink?
Wherefore on the violet's bed
Lay'st thou thus thy drooping head?
Thou that hold'st the blast in scorn,
Thou that wear'st the wings of mourn.
Eagle! wilt thou not arise?
Look upon thine own bright skies!
Lift thy glance! the fiery sun
There his pride pf place has won,
And the mountain lark is there,
And sweet sound hath fill'd the air:
Hast thou left that realm on high?
-Oh, it can be but to die!
Eagle! Eagle! thou hast bowed
From thine empire o'er the cloud!
Thou that hadst ethereal birth,
Thou hast stoop'd too near the earth,
And the hunter's shaft hath found thee,
And the toils of death have bound thee,
Wherefore didst thou leave thy place,
Creature of a kingly race?
Wert thou weary of thy throne?
Was the sky's dominion lone?
Chill and lone it well might be,
Yet that mighty wing was free!
Now the chain is o'er thee cast:
From thy heart the blood flows fast,
Woe for gifted souls and high!
Is not such their destiny?
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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I cannot hear anything but mine own heart beat
I cannot hear anything but mine own heart beat
Thou art still the most beautiful lady I've ever seen
So elegant and refined, graceful and petite
Thou art effeminate in love with beauty serene
Thou define beauty with such eloquence and such charm
No time, no age, no season nor death did trace
Worn lines, wrinkles, sorrow and decay on thee
For by thy bosom love pulsates to thy immortal face
The poetry of flesh; the beauty thy flesh be
An ideal imagination that steams thy beauty fast
And whispers nature's secret's like the silver moon
And reveals beauty like the sun's light cast
And reflects love like profound emotions swoon
I can only hear my heart beat, as I fall and faint
For mine heart, thy beauty took and with thy face did paint…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Sonnet 11: As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st
As fast as thou shalt wane, so fast thou grow'st
In one of thine, from that which thou departest,
And that fresh blood which youngly thou bestow'st,
Thou mayst call thine when thou from youth convertest.
Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase;
Without this folly, age, and cold decay,
If all were minded so, the times should cease,
And threescore year would make the world away.
Let those whom Nature hath not made for store,
Harsh, featureless, and rude, barrenly perish;
Look whom she best endowed, she gave the more,
Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish.
She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby,
Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Devi Mahakaali
Hey Prakriti, Brahmani, Parasakthi
In the depths of the perpetual cosmos
Thou be the conscience and reality-ultimate
Thou be the spirit of creation and cessation
Thou be the genesis of affluence and refulgence
Thou be Durga, Lakshmi, Saraswthi
Yet what Thou be
To the ogrish panic of recurring atavism
What Thou be to the chaotic terrorism
Hey Devi
Invigorate macrocosmic to boom out
Fierce, black, multi-headed, multi-handed
Huge and dark like ageless kala(time)
Attired of demonic arms severed skirted
Ornately garlanded with demon-heads slayed
Edacious, quivering tongues of smoking fire
Terrifying with intensive swift blood-plops
Thine audaciously to destruct satanic devils
Munitioned whole of thine mighty dynamic
A dreadful persona handling a demon-head
Hey Mahakaali, be it the frightening threat
From the frowning brow of Durga
Furious Mahakaali hailing on
Triumphantly fulgent to slaughter
All demons and evil and satanic killers
Beware o' destroying attackers
Surrender, else be preyed
Praises to Thee Devi Mahakaali
Praises to Thee, hail to Thee
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Naked Man!
only the naked man,
who's left all baggage behind,
can stand in the heat of the fire,
and slay the corporate beast!
only the naked man,
who wears his scars with pride,
can forgive the unforgivable,
and so heal this land.
only the naked man,
without pretense or game,
can stand up to the truth,
and set the captives free!
only the naked man,
with nothing left to lose,
can find the light
in a sky darkened by greed.
only the naked man,
beaten and cursed,
will stand and give a hand
without seeing your face...
only the naked man...
no longer praying to an unknown god,
will beat the sacred drum,
that wipes away your tears...
only the naked man!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lines written In An Album
OF THE BARONESS
D' H---, TO HER TWO DAUGHTERS.
BRIGHT nymphs, of NEWA'S banks the pride,
Receive, before we part,
For you, and your maternal guide,
The wishes of my heart!
Be every future good your lot!-
But what can fate do more?
Has nature any boon forgot
For you in all her store?
While, mids't the wreathes the arts have twin'd
Around your brows, we trace
That tender modesty of mind
That decorates the face;
Grac'd with such forms as RAPHAEL drew
Beneath his happiest star,
What is there left to ask for you,
But wish you-what you are?
poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Be angry for the truth
Anger is not always bad
Specially when it is for the truth
If truth is wounded,
Humanity is wounded
So the truth should be brought forward
Even at the cost of tranquility and non-violence
With anger or violence
When all the alternatives of peace are ceased
For the truth cannot be held so long
Else falsehood will take it over
Though it is bound to perish by nature
Yet might do a cosiderable damage
Before being uprooted.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Intrigue
THOU art my love
And thou art the peace of sundown
When the blue shadows soothe
And the grasses and the leaves sleep
To the song of the little brooks
Woe is me.
Thou art my love,
And thou art a storm
That breaks black in the sky
And, sweeping headlong,
Drenches and cowers each tree
And at the panting end
There is no sound
Save the melancholy cry of a single owl
Woe is me!
Thou art my love
And thou art a tinsel thing
And I in my play
Broke thee easily
And from the little fragments
Arose my long sorrow
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a weary violet
Drooping from sun-caresses.
Answering mine carelessly
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the ashes of other men's love
And I bury my face in these ashes
And I love them
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art the beard
On another man's face
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a temple
And in this temple is an altar
And on this altar is my heart
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a wretch.
Let these sacred love-lies choke thee
For I am come to where I know your lies as truth
And your truth as lies
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a priestess
And in thy hand is a bloody dagger
And my doom comes to me surely
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art a skull with ruby eyes
And I love thee
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And I doubt thee
And if peace came with my murder
Then would I murder
Woe is me.
Thou art my love
And thou art death
Aye, thou art death
Black and yet black
But I love thee
I love thee
Woe, welcome woe, to me.
poem by Stephen Crane
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By All Means
By All Means
By: Adam M. Snow
By all means, I need to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
But though I still long for truth,
I long for those who's not uncouth.
By all means, I carried out to wonder,
when flesh and spirit sunder.
But in a world such as this,
dost Thou be amiss?
But I seek what Thou has in stored;
that statement of the Lord.
By all means, I wonder to ponder,
of my life going yonder.
Misery held me 'gainst my woes,
as if my life cease to flow.
But if it be the answer of my eternal quest,
nor any Death-but lest;
I accept the truth from Thee,
to where the Strong assure me.
I wage my life upon thy altar,
ponder here a time of falter;
I live to serve only Thee.
We think that we must be-
gods upon this earth.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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All But You
Millions of people pass by me
My heart wish to see only you
Thousands of eyes are set on me
My eyes match only you
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
What is the past incase it lasts
In the face of horrible holocaust
Cathedrals and churches
Old Oaks and Birches
All remind me of only you
When sweet was the life
And there was no strife
I thought of only you
Incarnations, rejuvenations
Amalgamation and resurrections
All these tell me
Only you are my combination
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Down the memory lane
Whenever I see a mane
I remember thy First
Incarnation of past
I remember the orchards
And I remember the old birds
In the mist till I see
You as ever forever
Sweetest dream came true the day
When I saw you in May
Both the magical ring
And you had to say:
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Don’t ask me what the rhyme is about
Don’t say and please don’t doubt
Whenever you will listen thy song
No matter wherever you belong
Will come to your cast
The beautiful life of past
Even If you and I can never meet
Even if you are lost in the world fleet
Just remember me and remember thy song
Sing this aloud and sing it along
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Forever together
ALWAYS
Counting time Forever! ! ! !
poem by Sudha Misra
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Every Life Form
Every life form that lives on this Planet serves Nature in some sort of a way
And no life form in truth is vermin despite what some do think or say
Each life form is there for some purpose whatever that purpose may be
For the worth of each individual species ask one with more knowledge of Nature than me
In a World of over six billion people the pressure on Nature's life forms is great
Pollution and destruction of habitat of many life forms have sealed the fate
Removal of trees for development, pollution of air, sea and land
It surely is at our own peril if Nature we don't try to understand
For human pollution of the environment the price for us all huge to pay
More water-ways are being polluted more trees are removed every day
When we disrespect our natural environment disrespect for ourselves we do show
With a huge rise in carbon emissions so little of Nature we know
Every life form that lives on the Planet serves Nature in some sort of a way
And no life form in truth is vermin despite what some do think or say.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mother Nature
Often I marvel at Mother Nature
And its unique adventures
It has in stock for us
I have to say Mother Nature is the boss
Everyone has DNA-like life experience
Sometimes it can be monotonously intense
But Mother Nature is supreme
And Mother Nature is extreme
Often I ponder on why Mother Nature
Is sporadically insane with jealousy
Committing many a time unspeakable atrocities
Tornados, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions
It showers, making its necessary modifications
Tidal waves are its trademark of destruction
Of natural and artificial creations
But Mother Nature always makes up
With multiplication and replication of the living!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Always seek the refuge of the truth
You can neither touch it nor feel it,
Unless you peel the cover of falsehood off,
For 'falsehood is bound to perish by nature, '
And then you will get the truth with all its might,
Howsoever dark the night is,
A glow warm ends its monopoly,
Likewise a small truth challenges
The mighty empire of falsehood,
So never rely on falsehood,
And always seek the refuge of the truth.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Each Creature In Nature
Each creature in Nature has a role to fill
Most species of birds have a different shaped bill
Between insects and seed eaters the difference is great
The beauty and wonder that Nature create.
Each life form in Nature for a purpose is born
The common brown rats though victims of scorn
Are born for some purpose though we wish them ill
And without provocation them we choose to kill.
The woodlice flightless insects that live on decay
Perform their tasks in a quiet and secretive way
The more we learn of Nature the more our wonder of her does grow
Yet so little of her ways we can claim to know.
Though habitat destruction by humans and climate change on many living things taking toll
All creatures in Nature perform their own role
And like all of her life forms to Nature us humans belong
Though many may well say I have got it wrong.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Tomb in Tuscany
In Montepulciano fair,—
Long famous for that vintage rare,
Prized by the giver of the vine
Above all wine—
There dwelt a man whose years had taught him
To seek, beyond what wealth had brought him,
Something to give his transient name
A lasting fame.
"For lordly palaces," he said,
"Shall crumble; ay, and bastions dread,
And temples grave and gardens gay
Become as they;
Each vaunted image of my power
Shall perish like a wayside flower,
And like the hawk my hand hath fed
Lie waste and dead.
"Wherefore, ere yet my days be spent,
I will uprear a monument
That 'gainst the envious floods of Time
Shall stand sublime;
My treasures vast shall serve and cherish
An art too heavenly to perish:
A beauty, born of passion pure,
That shall endure!"
So spoke he; and now lies asleep,
While near him forms angelic keep
Unwearied watch, and from decay
Guard him alway:
Rare, sculptured forms that blend his story
With Donatello's deathless glory,
And make mankind his debtors be
Eternally.
For lordly castles, as he said,
Have crumbled; ay, and bastions dread,
And temples grave and gardens gay
Become as they.
Each vaunted image of his power
Has perished like a wayside flower,
But living in the art he fed,
He is not dead!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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