A Classical Thought
While the trees will give me the thoughts I need,
For the life of roses beneath the leaves,
There's a light for me and for everyone,
To repay the shadows of days and eves.
When the mind remembers the youth of life
And the countless seconds and hours and years,
There runs a stream from within our eyes-
Is a stream of ailing but shining tears.
The time of life begins and ends----
In an epic of thousands of pains and gains.
poem by Osama Waqar
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Related quotes
Seconds
All day
Hiding from the sun
Waiting for the golden one
Waiting for your fame
After the parade has gone
Outside was a happy place
Every face had a smile like the golden face
For a second
Your knuckles white as your fingers curl
The shot that was heard around the world
For a second
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds of your time to take his life
Seconds
Seconds
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
For a second
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
It took seconds of your time to take his life
It took seconds
For a second
It took seconds of your time to take his life
Seconds of your time to take his life
For a second
For a second
For a second
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish with no tail
as i gaze out of nature... i have seen a fish without a tail
impossible but its true, first things came up to my mind
is, ask whether its worth to give time to remember all
the scene or perhaps, just a memories of a simple
goodbye
as the fish swim, deep beneath the crystal blue water, i
couldn't remember the minutes, the hours past, nay i felt
that i haven't taken my meal, it seems all are just a blink
of a second in my eyes
it keeps on bubbling, even in a thousands seconds it
stay in the water, until i notice that the fish fail to surface
beneath the running water, for the absence of the tail
the body is nothing
all is just a mirror of a fish that, every movement of the
body, the twist of the tail has to follow, its a paradox to
believe that we see the tail of other fish, nay never we
saw that we don't have tail of our own
like the fish it swim, with no direction, only an inspiration
that we can do, yet as it goes there we go, tail that swim
in the water stream with no affection of what to do
now i see, how to swim, in water, lou! where i may go...in
the world of stream when everybody is frame......
poem by Antonio Liao
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Memories
I remember my father’s garden
Roses grew in full bloom behind the maple tree
That has always been there, in my memory,
Its trunk seemed golden
Beneath the light of the moon and stars in the evening and
At dawn, it would capture the rays of the sun,
Turning copper beneath the shadows cast by the mountains;
I have always adored the nighttime hours-
The stars seemed magical to me, glistening within the darkness and
The moon brings me peace of mind, quietly sleeping,
As its gentle rays illuminated the sky, giving just enough light
So I could see the roses, trees and wildflowers that decorated my father’s garden.
My father passed away twenty years ago and
I can recall his love for nature and his passion for the silence of the evening hours-
So much like mine-so many memories have escaped me but
I can still hear his laughter ringing throughout the valley near our home,
And every time I look upward toward the moon at twilight,
I can nearly see his smile shining through its muted light-
As a gentle breeze would blow, rustling the leaves upon the trees-
It would remind me that my father’s soul is still alive-
I see his face in every rose and his hands grasping the branches on the trees-
And I have always believed that even though people die and
Though their bodies may never be seen again,
The love and recollection of their spirits remain
In the places that they so loved-
My father’s home was in his garden amongst the maple trees, roses and wildflowers, and
In my innermost thoughts, it is there where he remains- and
Every day and every night, when I walk amongst the trees and flowers
I can hear his voice calling my name and in my heart I know
He can still hear my voice and see my face, as in the light of the moon and stars-
We shall be bonded in spirit for an eternity.
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Tears Of Pain
Tears of pain stream down my although I know you're in a better place
Wishing I could see your face..,
Tears of pain stream down my face, I know you won the race.
All your pain finally ends, you and I were close friends,
Tears of pain stream down my face, I'll still be here in the end,
Tears of pain stream down my face this is something I can't take.
It wasn't fare for you to go; I have never felt a deeper hole.
Tears of pain stream down my face I feel
Your presence, in my place
I sure do miss that smiling face,
Tears of pain stream down my face,
You were the brightness to fill my greys,
Tears of pain stream down my face
I miss the feeling of embrace,
When looking at your wonderful face
Tears of pain stream down my face.
It came to soon, but your alright I try to talk to you every night.
now I know you're in a better place, The tears of pain have withered away.
poem by Raeanne Runyemba
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A Stream’s Singing
O HOW beautiful is Morning!
How the sunbeams strike the daisies,
And the kingcups fill the meadow
Like a golden-shielded army
Marching to the uplands fair;--
I am going forth to battle,
And life's uplands rise before me,
And my golden shield is ready,
And I pause a moment, timing
My heart's pæan to the waters,
As with cheerful song incessant
Onwards runs the little stream;
Singing ever, onward ever,
Boldly runs the merry stream.
O how glorious is Noon-day!
With the cool large shadows lying
Underneath the giant forest,
The far hill-tops towering dimly
O'er the conquered plains below;--
I am conquering--I shall conquer
In life's battle-field impetuous:
And I lie and listen dreamy
To a double-voiced, low music,--
Tender beech-trees sheeny shiver
Mingled with the diapason
Of the strong, deep, joyful stream,
Like a man's love and a woman's;
So it runs--the happy stream!
O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
Watching o'er the dewy valleys,
Like a good king near his end:--
I have labored, I have governed;
Now I feel the gathering shadows
Of the night that closes all things:
And the fair earth fades before me,
And the stars leap out in heaven,
While into the infinite darkness
Solemn runs the steadfast stream--
Onward, onward, ceaseless, fearless,
Singing runs the eternal stream.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Time Has No Time
Time runs from your early days
Creating you many troublesome ways;
Going late to school is the beginning
And the life has no ending.
time won't last long to feel
It will make all your sorrows heel;
Time sometimes leaves you alone
That is time has no time.
even love ends up in tears
Even life made you to fear
Time can only sing a song
' I DON'T HAVE TIME'.
Feelings will come and go
But the time will always go;
You can stop time in your watch
But can't stop in other's watch;
If you ask help to ask time to give more time.
It will say, ' I DON'T HAVE TIME'.
poem by Anantha Narayanan
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Karma
I drop a stone into the ocean
Every choice another turn of the screw
Another wheel set in motion
With every single thing I do
Its there in the air that I breathe
Its in my whisper and scream
Inside everything I believe
And its all gonna come around someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
There is no absolution whether Im the garden or the rose
If I aint part of the solution, yeah you know how that goes
You can always leave but you bring it all back home someday
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
Every single thing I say, everyone that I betray
Any love that I take when I do not make it in return
Every thing I do and every time Ive been unfaithful too
All the things that I believe are lessons I must learn
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
As the smallest stream runs to a river
And every river runs to the sea
So every little bit of love I give to another
You know that I believe it comes back to me
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impentitent Ultima
Before my light goes out for ever if God should give me a choice of
graces,
I would not reck of length of days, nor crave for things to be;
But cry: 'One day of the great lost days, one face of all the faces,
Grant me to see and touch once more and nothing more to see.
'For, Lord, I was free of all Thy flowers, but I chose the world's
sad roses,
And that is why my feet are torn and mine eyes are blind with sweat,
But at Thy terrible judgment-seat, when this my tired life closes,
I am ready to reap whereof I sowed, and pay my righteous debt.
'But once before the sand is run and the silver thread is broken,
Give me a grace and cast aside the veil of dolorous years,
Grant me one hour of all mine hours, and let me see for a token
Her pure and pitiful eyes shine out, and bathe her feet with tears.'
Her pitiful hands should calm, and her hair stream down and blind me,
Out of the sight of night, and out of the reach of fear,
And her eyes should be my light whilst the sun went out behind me,
And the viols in her voice be the last sound in mine ear.
Before the ruining waters fall and my life be carried under,
And Thine anger cleave me through as a child cuts down a flower,
I will praise Thee, Lord in Hell, while my limbs are racked asunder,
For the last sad sight of her face and the little grace of an hour.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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The Golden Phase...
Rhythmic,
calm and golden phase
of human life...
is student life,
with carefree days
and restive nights,
friendly moves
and harmless fights...
when eyes enjoy
much charming dreams,
when mind is free of all the pains,
all the losses, all the gains
when innocent heart
knows no laws;
but this fair phase so swiftly flies
and leaves the traces
on our minds
as the love of good, old days: -(
poem by Shahzia Batool
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Sorrow blue
Of sorrow blue, and life in the mist
Nights in the shadows of a dream
Of sorrow blue, I’m losing the rest
Of my life, drowned in the stream
With the sunset that bites my heart
I can not help but to feel alone & cold
Of sorrow blue, I am just a part
I’m not me, to the dark my soul was sold
In sorrow and blues, hours like days
Like year, years as salty as our tears
Rusted faces form old lives, in many ways
Reminds me of lost hopes and living fears
Sorrow blue, moments before the dawn
That is when we part ways like old friends
With the sunrise, I am no longer a pawn
For my sorrow, no longer worried about the ends
Every day there is a Rendez-Vous
With my inner self and my eternal fall
With the other me, my sorrow blue
Every day, I will pick up the sorrow’s call
poem by Haytem Fakroun
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Stream Of Life
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass
and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth
and of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Frustrating Seconds
These seconds of time that seem so small
really are not that small at all.
They continuously add up to a minute.
Sixty seconds later and all that's within it
is larger as they pass.
And then they add up to an hour.
Now those seconds have more power.
They move along and soon there'll be
another day gone from you with me.
Seconds, minutes, hours and days
have grown so long in heartfelt ways.
They leave me wondering just how long
these drawn out seconds did me wrong?
I'd love to bundle them up real tight
and little by little squeeze them at night.
And when the dawn is here again
remember all of them and say Amen.
I do not wish my life away.
I just want those seconds to go their way.
Let them add up for another fool.
For these seconds for me are much too cruel.
I don't need seconds, minutes or hours
to remind me of eternity.
I will not count the time anymore
for all it contains is the misery
of being away from you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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LXIX
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of
leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and
of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore from Gitanjali (1912)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epic Smile
Time slows;
then stops.
You have an epic smile,
shining brightly to challenge the sun.
You laugh with your soul,
eyes sparkling in the light.
You have an epic smile,
one I will never forget.
My heart leaps at your voice,
a smile shattering the gloom of life.
You have an epic smile,
brighter than a thousand suns.
I will think of you often,
though truthfully I already do.
You have an epic smile, my muse,
one that will always be with me.
poem by Brian Hinckley
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Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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As None Other Will Listen Me In Silence
god! whoever or whatever may you be
make my life simple
thoughts noble
speech striving towards truth
heart rushing to help the needy
head neither bloated nor depressed
mind never treating another
inferior or bankrupt of talent-
a resolve to walk alone
the path of righteousness against odds
a desire not exceeding my needs
a belief just capable of consoling my grief
and putting me back on life's unending stream!
god, i know i come to you with tears and pains
not in the hope i will see light
but to unburden my heart of my grief
as none other will listen me in total silence.
-s.chandra kalaadhar.
02.12.2012 / sunday
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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How Deep Our Memory Lies
How deep our memories lie,
Beneath the silt and sediment of mind,
Deposited by the turbid stream of life.
Each succeeding springtime thaw swells
The stream of living, burying deeper still,
That memory matter of past forgotten years.
Quietly it lies beneath the strata of time.
It is only when we reach an age of questionable duration
That it seems to rise with haunting recollection, caused
By some stimulation to our senses,
Flooding our apprehending mind with remembrances.
Sound, smell, taste, touch, sight prompts
Those some things long lost in the still deeps of thought,
Overwhelming us in a deluge of emotional reminiscences.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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It's All Too Much
It's all too much, it's all too much
When i look into your eyes, your love is there for me
And the more i go inside, the more there is to see
It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much
Floating down the stream of time, of life to life with me
Makes no difference where you are or where you'd like to be
It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around here
All the world's a birthday cake,
So take a piece but not too much
Set me on a silver sun, for i know that i'm free
Show me that i'm everywhere, and get me home for tea
It's all to much for me to see
A love that's shining all around here
The more i am, the less i know
And what i do is all too much
It's all too much for me to take
The love that's shining all around you
Everywhere, it's what you make
For us to take, it's all too much
It's too much.....it's too much
Too much too much too much (fade to end)
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gift
I want to give you something, my child, for we are drifting in the
stream of the world.
Our lives will be carried apart, and our love forgotten.
But I am not so foolish as to hope that I could buy your heart
with my gifts.
Young is your life, your path long, and you drink the love we
bring you at one draught and turn and run away from us.
You have your play and your playmates. What harm is there if
you have no time or thought for us!
We, indeed, have leisure enough in old age to count the days
that are past, to cherish in our hearts what our hands have lost
for ever.
The river runs swift with a song, breaking through all
barriers. But the mountain stays and remembers, and follows her
with his love.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Song for a German Air
Fair stream of the mountain, brightly flowing
Between thy fresh margins, gay with flowers,
Life's uncertain visions showing;
Thus, like thy waters glide past the hours.
Oft on thy sunny banks I lie
And mark the waves that glitter by
With fleeting joy and brightness glowing.
Fair stream! when no more near thee reclining,
I gaze and lament for moments gone—
Cold and silent, past repining—
Still thy clear way thou wilt murmur on:
Still will thy roses bloom anew,
Though I no more their beauty view,
And yonder sun as bright be shining!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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