Shall I use sword to solve Gordian Knot
when I opened my eyes to the world,
Not only my mouth opened to
breast of my mother,
Much before that my ears were open,
And skin that sensed touch of men or woman,
Known or unknown,
Expressing that by laugh or weep,
Then slowly opened eyes to see that world,
And light entered in eyes earlier,
Now reached brain!
Then started the questions and mystery Train,
And I became as what my elders trained!
But some years later I learnt life is from womb to tomb,
That made me to sit on tomb, into which I
saw someone sleeping,
As bone and skeleton,
With that hollow skull,
Then I learnt where one day I have to Go!
I disliked to sleep there with that hollow skull
I reached there without hollow skull,
But with brainful of painful thoughts!
If tomb is my destination,
Why came from womb,
If I can't assimilate, why should I eat,
If I can't solve the puzzle, why should bother it,
If everything is fate, how best life that I can rate?
I came to home straight and
Slept in a wooden box to feel my tomb with soulful brain!
I started learning to
Go where I should go,
Go and sleep in that wooden tomb and slept well there
and became familiar with that!
Then came my mother where I
am,
When she learnt that I am in my
own tomb,
Called father to show where I
am, Both lifted me
And laughed, Kissed me and said,
'You naughty, hiding there? '
Someday I have to throw this old used scrap in the waste box called my tomb,
If life Gordian knot,
Shall I use that sword to cut the rope,
The sword of self knowledge,
which is ultimate and impatient action,
I need not go and win the world,
Only I want win myself,
Self that in me have that thrill
And the joy of solving puzzle,
Within fairness of the game?
It kills the spirit in me,
And the spirit of puzzle
If I cut the rope,
And that game is over to me!
Let me play a while,
my mother is always ready,
She takes my into her lap
I will sleep in that love that is divine,
Than sleeping here in this tomb,
Once I throw that baggage aside
That was useful always in this journey,
All fate goes to that bag and not it can come unto me,
I am that son of God,
And God has to guide me as he is always my elder,
And He is my Fate, and I am destined to play and sleep with him!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Related quotes
Be Very Patient
Be very patient,
The potter's clay;
Be very wise,
The writer's pen;
Be very useful,
Of the muse of life with a living hope;
Let your yes be yes and your no be no.
Life is like the patience of Iyyob,
So abstain from fleshly lust;
Like the days of our visitations on this earth.
Sarah obeyed Abraham,
Like the sea and the seashore;
So established are the two witnesses.
Oh womb, womb, womb!
Oh bomb, bomb, bpomb! !
Oh tomb, tomb, tomb! ! !
Be very patient in this life.
Womb. bomb, tomb;
The womb is opened.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The earth is defiled.
Womb, bomb, tomb;
The time of trouble on this earth with our muses.
Our bombs will shake the heavens,
And our sins will led us to our tombs;
As it is written in the Book Of Life like,
A child born today from the womb.
We came out of the womb and,
Many of us will be killed by the bombs! !
Which will finally send us into the tombs.
Read about the facts,
Learn about the truth,
Our days of darkness from the womb!
We came out of the womb and,
Are destroying the world with our bombs;
Soon, we will be buried in the tombs!
Womb, bomb, tomb;
Be very patient on this earth without hatred.
Lets be each others keeper,
Lets learn for the truth of all things;
Our days on this earth is still very short.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mockery
I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.
I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.
poem by Leon Gellert
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neath A Cold Gray Tomb Of Stone
Passing by a lonesome graveyard
Everything I love is gone
Weeping as they lay my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
In this world i'm left to wander
With no one to call my own
While my precious darling's sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Out there in that lonesome graveyard
She is sleeping all alone
And I burried my heart with her
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
Skies above are dark and stormy
All the sunshine,all is gone
For the while my love is sleeping
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
My heart is dead and yet i'm living
Traveling through this world alone
I wish that I was with my darling
Neath a cold gray tomb of stone
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Empty Tomb
In Arlington, where valor sleeps,
there is a marble Tomb
where heroes rest whose names are known
to God and God alone.
From Korea and the fields of France
Brought here to hallowed sleep
The unknowns of our nation's wars
Are honored with a wreath.
One body from the tomb is gone-
He served in Vietnam.
The mystery of identity
Found in a shard of bone
Rededicate his empty crypt
To the missing of that war-
To honor and keep faith with them
who never have come home.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Tomb 19
Tomb 19 was sacred 1000 years or more
The Mayan king was restless a curse upon the door
His shrouds of royal fabric his journey to be made
To offer spirits good and evil 14 beads of sale
The jade had ancient power or so beliefs allege
To anyone who plundered they would drive him to the edge
If you take the treasures of Tomb 19
Let the curse remind you
Take the treasures of Tomb 19
But never look behind you
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Womb To Tomb Is My Life Going To Be
I had never, ever seen the light of day
and have had to use a stick to find my way.
From womb to tomb is my life going to be
a life of darkness because I cannot see?
'Lord who did wrong' someone said,
'Was it this man or his parents instead? '
'No one had sinned' I heard Jesus say.
'For you will see the glory of God today.'
Just there as we stood to my great surprise
He made some mud and pasted it on my eyes.
Then He told me to go to the place called 'Sent'
So off to the Pool of Siloam I went.
As I washed my eyes I received my sight
and for the very first time could see sunlight.
Saw men and animals, trees and the sky
and watched all the peoples walking by.
Blind leaders of the blind they did not realise
that it was the was the Christ who'd opened my eyes.
For until our eyes are opened by the Lord
we all remain blind and dead to God's word.
Written after reading John 9: 1-12
The Assumption of BVM
The tomb is empty
– Mary’s tomb!
-The only sanctified
-most womb;
The Assumption
A Feast that’s on
August 15th
For lady one,
With conception
Immaculate:
She bore a son –
Emmanuel.
She wore the sun
As her pure garb;
She had the moon
Under her feet;
She had twelve stars
On head as crown;
The war she won
Against satan.
She left the world
Her work well done;
With body, soul
Into Heaven,
As Apostles
Kept looking on!
Queen of heaven;
Mother of God;
Mother of Jesus
Christ, our Lord;
Do pray for us,
We sinners all;
To repent well,
And hear God’s call!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-15-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Mountain Tomb
POUR wine and dance if manhood still have pride,
Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom;
The cataract smokes upon the mountain side,
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet
That there be no foot silent in the room
Nor mouth from kissing, nor from wine unwet;
Our Father Rosicross is in his tomb.
In vain, in pain; the cataract still cries;
The everlasting taper lights the gloom;
All wisdom shut into his onyx eyes,
Our Father Rosicross sleeps in his tomb.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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My Tomb
The four walls around me,
The bed in which I lay.
A lock on my door,
Keeps everyone away.
The outside world has nothing,
Not a single thing for me.
For I lost the angel of my life,
An angel as beautiful as she.
I lay within these four walls,
Counting the time go by.
The day quickly comes to an end,
And then I close my eyes.
It is then I dream of her,
As I lie here in my room.
In my dream I leave from here,
This place I call my tomb.
No more walls around me,
No more bed in which I lay.
I have broken from the locks,
That kept me here to decay.
In my dream I am with her,
No longer am I sad.
For in my dream she never leaves,
Destroying everything we had.
In my dream we are happy,
Our love will only grow.
Reaching to the Heavenly skies,
Leaving the world below.
In my dream I'm full of life,
No longer live in gloom.
My angel has pulled me from the trap,
Of this place I call my tomb.
I want to stay in this dream,
For when I am asleep.
No longer do I miss her,
No longer do I weep.
I want to stay in this dream,
I never want to wake.
For when I'm here with my angel,
No longer do I ache.
I want to stay in this dream,
Don't ever pull me out.
I want to stay here forever,
For here there is no doubt.
Eventually my eyes will open,
I see the walls of my room.
Once again I'm locked up,
As I lie here in my tomb.
poem by Adam McKim
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Sh.. You may be Killer Of God!
when I was kid and innocent,
Often I was hanging on her
waist,
weeping to take me into her
arms,
when she was free, She gladly fulfilled my request
But when she was busy,
She used give toys,
When my imaginations fail to
please me,
I get bored of toys and threw them away,
Then she came and told,
See god is there in toys too,
You hurt Him when you throw!
She showed Some photos and
pictures, strange to me some were with
four hands
One with an eye on forehead!
Some are having beautiful face,
Some with some strange face,
I asked her who are these, Why they have strange faces
and too many hands and eyes?
Tell me the how I look?
Is My face is like you?
She told me several stories,
I then started playing with dolls as if they are Gods!
Strangely the toys started
winking and talking with me,
When in play I talked and
laughed with them! Mother was telling the stories of
rivers, mountains and men with
fountains of extraordinary
spirits, Mother was telling more and
more stories
Mother Wanted me to sleep,
so that she can go to work!
But I was not bored of these
stories, Ever I was eager to listen, even
when I was in sleep! So many time when I fell asleep,
She fed my food and milk,
Simply I eat and drank without
knowing!
Next morning I used to complain,
No one cares when I am hungry, Where I sleep and why they
forget me,
Later I came Mother never forgot,
Only I forgot and slept! When my mother died
Too young I was and never cried, Then in dreams, one day I saw
the death of my father,
and when that dream become
true,
I never wept as I wept in dream
itself! Then my brothers and sister and
friends
And I boldly accepted,
As soldier in war field,
Then my son, I laughed and said
strange these dolls who played with me,
Fell and shattered into pieces!
Then went that Lord,
elephant headed giant,
Then to the one with three eyes
Then to the one with lion head, All came and played and Became
one with me,
Still question came to mind is it
true,
Then Buddha, then Jesus then
then finally Ever smiling Krishna, All were dwelling in me with
mother Goddess,
Then came that day when I called
no one came,
Mad I was, went wandering..
Came and sat on a grave, I was weeping, weeping And
weeping,
Oh God!
Where are you?
There came a dog,
There was a cow and donkey
Suddenly came a man who
looked mad,
In dirty clothes clad
He sat beside me and looked into
my eyes, I too looked into his
Calm lakelike eyes, The stone, the tomb, the air and
everything,
All around started saying I am
here,
I am here,
The dog, the cow, the ant at my feet and that man and trees
around me started singing,
I am here, I am here,
When I saw where that man
gone,
He become every thing, from, dirty shit of donkey to
infinite world,
Then became small and entered
my heart,
See I was always with you and
always everywhere, None can express me completely
than that pure soul,
Clean with love and kindness,
Some day if you lose these
virtues,
You kill me and crucifix Me and
I can't resurrect in dirty heart,
And you will be Killer of God!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Lone Pilgrim
1. I came to the place where the lone pilgrim lay,
And patiently stood by his tomb,
When in a low whisper I heard something say:
How sweetly I sleep here alone.
2. the tempest may howl and the loud thunder roar
And gathering storms may arise,
But calm is my feeling, at rest is my soul,
The tears are all wiped from my eyes.
3. the call of my master compelled me from home,
No kindred or relative nigh.
I met the contagion and sank to the tomb,
My soul flew to mansions on high.
4. go tell my companion and children most dear
To weep not for me now Im gone.
The same hand that led me through seas most severe
Has kindly assisted me home.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Desert Flower In Bloom
I gave you my heart, in death my soul
Once incomplete, but now it is whole
Like a desert flower, my heart had withered
In your shower of love, my heart was delivered
From a tomb, born from hate
Locked and bound, it was my fate
You, the locksmith of my heart
Set it free, and gave it a start
The tomb of hate, sealed with lies
Is not my fate or my demise
The sky the limit, our path unknown
No matter the peril, my heart you’ll own.
poem by Owen Smith
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Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your life
Daughter of my womb am dying
My smile is but a frown
I have no idea whom I will crown
As the daughter of your womb
For you've sent them all to the tomb
My wrinkled hands needed a tender one
My closing eye libs needed to see before they are gone
The seed of the seed of my womb are no more
Daughter of my womb, you've killed the daughters of your womb
The medicine man in his robes
Administered the wrong root for a drug
Your womb is empty I have nothing to wait for
Why didn't you tell me of your planned atrocities before?
Daughter of my womb
Daughter of my womb
You've stabbed my heart so bad
You've killed the bearer of your womb
You've sent your seed to the tomb
You've dragged the generation of your womb
Daughter of my womb, you've killed us.
poem by Robert Abok
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Hattie House
Air -- "Lily Dale"
Come all kind friends, wherever you may be,
Come listen to what I say,
It's of a little girl that was pleasant to see,
And she died while out doors at play.
CHORUS:
Oh! Hattie, dear Hattie,
Sweet little Hattie House --
May the flowers ever bloom o'er the little tomb,
Of our loved one, Hattie House.
She had blue eyes and light flaxen hair,
Her little heart was light and gay,
She said to her mother, that morning fair,
"Mother, can I go out and play?"
Her mother tied her bonnet on,
Not thinking it would be the last
She would ever see her dear little one
In this world, little Hattie House.
She left the house, this dear little girl,
On that bright and pleasant day --
She went to play with two little girls
That were near about her age.
She was not gone but a little while
When they heard her playmates call --
Her friends hastened there to save the child,
Alas, she was dead and gone.
Those little girls will not forget
The day little Hattie died,
For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
While playing by their side.
She was her parents' only child,
And her age was near six years,
And now she has left them for a while --
Left all her friends in tears.
She has left this world of grief and woe,
Dear friends, she has left behind --
She is waiting on the other shore,
To meet them bye and bye.
One fine morning, the fifth of July,
The summer flowers were in bloom,
Eighteen seventy-one, little Hattie died,
And is sleeping in her tomb.
poem by Julia A Moore
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The Army
I was the commander of the army but,
You are now buried in your own tomb;
For the bomb came and took you away!
But from your mother's womb you came into this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Don’t Take My Life, My Dear Mother!
Don’t take my life,
My dear mother!
For heaven’s sake,
Please let me live!
Don’t take my life;
Give me a chance;
I’ve life like you;
I want to live.
Don’t take my life;
God’s love made me;
God talks to me,
And calls my name!
Don’t take my life;
The womb’s my home;
God feeds me well
And helps me grow.
Don’t take my life;
I yearn to live,
And see the world
That God has made.
Don’t take my life;
Do charity;
I’ll repay back
Your act of love.
Don’t take my life,
I want some love
From my parents;
So, spare me please!
Don’t take my life;
Do spare my frame;
The clay is baked;
It’s time for birth!
Don’t take my life
God has allowed;
I want to see
His lovely world.
Don’t take my life;
I’ll pay you well,
When I grow big,
And you turn old!
Don’t take my life,
My dear mother;
God will bless you
And too, father!
Don’t take my life,
Dear dad and mum;
Don’t turn the womb
Into my tomb!
Don’t take my life,
For God’s sake please;
My dear parents,
‘LET ME BE BORN! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-9-2009
poem by John Celes
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Lonely Tombs
(e) I was strollin one day, in a lonely graveyard,
When a voice from the tomb, seemed to (b7) say,
I once (e) lived as you live, walked and talked as you talk,
But from earth I was (b7) soon called a- (e) way.
Chorus
(e) oh, those tombs, (oh those tombs),
Lonely tombs, (lonely tombs ),
Seemed to say in a low gentle (b7) tone,
Oh how (e) sweet, (oh how sweet),
Is the rest, (is the rest),
In our beautiful, (b7) heavenly (e) home.
Every voice from the tomb, seemed to whisper and say,
Livin man you must soon follow me,
And I thought as I gazed, on that cold marble slab,
What a sad lonesome place that must be.
Repeat chorus
I then came to the place, where my mother did lay,
And her voice, soft and low, from the tomb,
It said, son Im at rest, with the savior above,
I am safe in my heavenly home.
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Days Old
I am but two days old and i have no name,
Pretty young thing but i am nobody to you;
But i do know that i love you.
Sleep my little one when you are with a wise man,
Sing my sweet one when you want to know who i am;
For i am but two days old and i have no name,
But i am waiting for an intellectual exercise to touch my heart.
You better find out to learn more about me,
Because i am two days old and i only learnt from the womb;
But what can you say to a naked body? !
Since you've now made a bomb which can easily send me to the tomb.
I am but two days old and i have no name,
But you are snapping on my menu books!
And this pretty young thing is about to teach you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Resurrection - The Easter Story
They slept, who should have guarded,
And watched over his tomb,
But he 'rose up' and none did see
His rebirth from this womb,
His spirit graced the garden,
His final act was done,
He was 'The Resurrection'
His victory had been won.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I found in one of the tombs an inscription saying, 'If you touch my tomb, you will be eaten by a crocodile and hippopotamus.' It doesn't mean the hippo will eat you, it means the person really wanted his tomb to be protected.
quote by Zahi Hawass
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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