En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In Trying To Understand The Use Of Words

we say the words
and ought to say them
because a certain
reality exists

either
it is bugging us or
it is making us experience
the flights of our
spirits
in blissful journeys
to an edgeless
universe

most of the time
when we are at peace
we say nothing
as though the new solitude
that we have found
is a woman

silent
because there is no way
that a word can enter
her mouth
now so full
of happiness

her thoughts filling
her mind
with so much joy
that she has turned herself
in an open world

now
volunteering as
nothing but
a mere
spectator.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Door To World Peace

The door to world peace is open.
All nations are invited to come in.
A welcome mat is available for every one,
And rogue nations may enter again.

The door to world peace is open
And no nation is turned away,
But if few decide not to enter the fold,
Peace will be shortlived in every way.

Peace keepers fill our hearts with hope,
And attempt to dry our heavy tears,
And open hearts for sound relationships
That will last for many delightful years.

A nation that is closed to others
Grows harder than concrete or stone,
And the people who reside there
Are destined to be isolated and alone.

If you slam the door on some nations,
Peace initiatives will continue to cease,
But if all nations are willing to compromise,
What a difference it can make to seek peace?

Skeptical nations will always wonder
How world peace might have been
When the door was open for them to enter,
But they failed to come in.

poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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Open 2

Open your heart and let all your love pour out to the world.

The world needs love for it is falling apart.

Open up your eyes and see all the violence that is happening all around you.

The world needs peace for violence is killing innocent people.

Open up your mind and think about what you have in life and what some believe don't.

For the world needs people to help them prosper.

Finally open up your mouth and let your teeth be shown.

For you are alive and not dead.

The world needs happiness so it can slowly open its box.

A box of peace.

poem by Christina J. Williams
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Because You Are The Star Of The Universe, The Only One

we do not try that hard
enough
reality has muscles of its
own
when it sees us tired
and rotten
it begins to show its hands
to take us for
a ride
its feet pedaling with the wheels
of beautiful truths
in the gardens of this
universe
it is then when we become the
tourists
simply looking and enjoying
what reality
shows us

so relax, do not overwork yourself
with some chosen words

let the words do the trick
they are your slaves not your masters

let the chair stand on its own legs
move towards you
and then you sit as the windows open
themselves
as the sun finally arrives as the mountains
grow the trees and the greenest grass
so appeasing to your eyes

spectator, the star of the universe
the most important mortal
the chosen creature

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Joy of Giving (Opinion)

THE JOY OF GIVING
Joy is a much sought after emotion welcomed and cherished by us all. We are joyful when incidents liked by us take place and incidents disliked by us do not take place. And that, persons near and dear to us, and their expression of love and affection, cause joy to us. We feel that joy causing things are outside us in this physical world. This is all a perception of joy.

Spirituality says joy is inherent in us and is our nature; rather we are the form and personification of joy. And joy and cheerfulness are our natural states of mind. Whenever pleasant things happen to us or unpleasant things do not happen, we are joyful, because then we are our Self, released of our ego.
But most of the times we expect others or things outside in the physical world to cause joy to us. Thus we are dependent on outside things and persons for joy to be experienced; and are joyless when such things do not happen. The real joy lies in our giving joy to our near and dear.

If we know that what all we are giving our near and dear is actually we are giving ourselves, we will just do that to be joyful.

In Narada Bhakti Sutras this aspect is very well expressed and highlighted.
The sutra is; “tat sukha sukhitvam”. “finding our happiness in giving happiness to our near and dear”.

This is a spiritual action full of significance. By doing so we are transcending our ego and are absorbing our ego in providing happiness to our near and dear.

Thus Gopikas (shepherd damsels) found their happiness in giving happiness to Sri Krishna. They have been very joyful when giving happiness to Sri Krishna and are thus blissful themselves. This secret of getting joy by giving joy to our near and dear must be noted by us all and make ourselves joyful by making our near and dear joyful.

We normally are intolerant of or indifferent to words, actions or thoughts expressed by our loved ones and are egoistic in our dealings with them. We love ourselves most. It is wise to love our loved ones more than we love ourselves. Actually if we love our near and dear, this happens automatically. Only when we do not love, and try making ourselves joyful all by ourselves, we run into problems and cause problems to our loved ones.

The best and shrewd way of being joyful is making our near and dear joyful by our words, thoughts, deeds and cheering and cheerful spirit and finding our joy in such gestures.

Many also say that contributing to charity, speaking lovingly and without hurting, being compassionate to all living and non-living beings gives happiness. Ordinary human beings may not have such wider horizon. If we find our joy in making our near and dear joyful the world will be much pleasant place to live. Let us practice giving joy and make it the art of living.

poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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A Secret Untold

I’ve got a secret.
A secret untold.
A secret I have never told anyone.
Do you want to hear my secret?

I’ve got a sacred dream.
A dream vision for sacred life.
I believe in happiness.
I believe happiness is the greatest gift.

The greatest gift anyone can bestow upon another.
I want to give the gift of happiness.
I want to give the gift of happiness to the destitute.
I want to bestow happiness upon suffering souls.

Upon all suffering souls, unhappy, alone, unloved.
I want to heal the world.
I want to heal future generations unborn.
I want to heal with healing words of love.

The word is my gift.
The written word can open windows into the mind.
The written word can heal with gifts of infused love.
With truth, love, wisdom, life lessons revealed.

Words may attain the power to reveal life.
Words may reveal images attesting life lessons.
Words may reveal values advancing visions yet unattained.
Words may reveal realities exalting in love peace harmony.

Love peace harmony for all sacred humanity.
For all sacred life is a reality humanity must treasure attain.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Woman And Poetry

writing poems together

with that woman is so much fun

i write mine, (i am much better than that woman)

i ask her to read my poems she obliges with her spectacles

as she opens her mouth to syllabicate

i gulp some saliva to my mouth

this woman is terrible

she makes me giggle

i have her word for word i have her metaphor per metaphor

there is no time to discuss

i like her to undress this time

i'll take the magic of her word

this time i will open my mouth

this time i will read all of her

i will not discuss i will not understand

i will just feel these metaphors

this mouth this tongue this body

this most important poetry

this love this lust this moment

after we have written

our poems together.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Outside My Picture Window

It has been said that there is a world outside my picture window and
Beyond the trees I see everyday and the sky, sometimes overcast and
Other days, when the sun rises early- I can see the sky and have often wondered if
There exists another world within our universe- I know that
There exists a world inside of my mind and
My pupils are the windows into which
People would look if I were to venture outward?
Beyond the sky, and beyond the sun-
Beyond that world inside my mind,
I would never know where there exists a place for me-
Last night outside of my window
I could see the stars- stars mean different things to different people as
Does the sun, the trees and this whole world outside-
The world inside my mind revolves about
The sun that shines upon my own horizon and
As for this world outside, all I can do is look- and to
See a tree, perhaps a single cloud and the grass that grows-
I have shut my mind to the people who live beyond
The trees, clouds and the grass that I can see-
That window opens to the world inside of my thoughts-
I have just shut and pulled the curtain to discourage all intruders-
I am lying by my window in total darkness now as I place my hand over my eyes,
Shutting out reality and now I can see mountains, flowering trees and
A creek flowing in which I can see my reflection and
I am running upon the grass that grows beneath my feet-
I believe I heard music playing inside the fortress of my mind-
It has been said there is a world outside and I have pulled the curtain
To the window once opened to veracity-
Darkness has never looked as beautiful as I am safe here in my solitude-
Even when the stars are shining and the sky is such a magnificent sight to see-
No place is as exquisite as the creek that runs through my inner space and
The sun inside the world of my thoughts that shines upon my horizon?
The stars are far away and all that is real, though just outside my picture window
I perceive as too far away for me to reach- I would touch the stars and I could be a dove
That can lift my wings and fly away from all that threatens, but only inside my dreams-
Children sing songs and read fairy tales and they believe and I believe that
The sun shines light upon their worlds and
Someday their dreams shall blossom as has mine and shall become their homes-
Home is the safe place inside a person's mind, not within the madding crowd that
Exists outside my picture window- even if the stars are always there- and
That unique and special sun shall just keep on shining upon the world of my dreams….

poem by Claudia Krizay
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U and ME

U r a man of few words
I m a woman of only words....

U r a man of timely ex-pressions
I m a woman of all time ex-pressions...

U r a man of sweet n silent smile
I am a woman of laughter...

U r a man of acceptance
I am a woman of expectations....

U r a man of black n white thoughts
I am a woman of colourful thoughts...

............................................. ...........................

poem by Amisha Nair
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Safe Place

There exists someplace a mountain, golden hued and a forest of
Trees, their branches sturdy and long-
Trying to reach the heavens where
Stars dance in the moonlit hours and
Gulls fly, their bodies casting shadows
Against the topaz-blue creek below-
Beautiful in their innocence-
Here gentle breezes would rustle tall grasses, and
Rain never falls upon this magical kingdom of nature-
I feel as if I can almost touch the rising sun that shines
Brightly over fields of dew-kissed grass upon
This blissful, faraway place where
I am alone and omnipotent at the end of my journey to
Escape the pain of veracity-
Having found a safe empire in my solitude-
Far from the nightmares of reality-
Though sadly- only in my fondest reverie;
There exists a mountain golden hued where
I can, along with the trees, their branches sturdy and long-
Reach the heavens during moonlit hours and
Dance with the stars in this blissful, far away place-
Here, in my dream state I have hitched a ride upon the tail of a shooting star, and
Looking down upon the topaz-blue creek below-
My tears would fall as would raindrops making flowers and grass grow tall-
I would weep tears of dismay because I find that I cannot escape what is real-
I have found the world to be a dangerous place and as the sun rises
All that I can do is to watch the gulls soar across the sky
Amazingly spectacular in their flight for freedom, as they
Journey further into the sky until they disappear behind clouds of misfortune-
When the sun sets, my spirit awakens,
Finding myself standing atop that same golden hued mountain alone while
The moon rises above the trees and I can imagine safe places
In the universe beyond the stars with hope that before the sun rises at
The dawning of another day, once again my fantasies shall carry me away to where
I can once again hear the gulls calling amidst a gentle breeze and
There are no more tears left for me to cry-
I have escaped reality forever, though only within a dream?

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Two Worlds

Today is overcast- they say it will rain,
They said it would rain last night-
I was lost in thought when the thunder clapped-
Lightening brightened up the sky, though only for a moment-
Then darkness overtook the entire universe-
I am alone in my own world- that is my choice-
I see people everyday- outside of the world I was born in.
These people are strangers speaking a language I understand although
When words are put together in sentences- I cannot relate.
I am speaking of two worlds- one where millions live,
That unsafe, threatening place- and the world of my thoughts that I live in
Nearly all of the time- the one into which I surely believe
Is the one into which I was born, at the time, safe and sound.
Today is overcast- they say it shall rain-
They said it would rain last night, but when the raindrops
Splashed upon the edge of time, I was lost inside of that world of my own.
In that world of my own, where rain never falls,
In that world of my own, children are never born into.
Somebody stole me and brought me here- into the cruel and threatening place
Where millions of deranged and crazy people live-
Somehow, inside that world, I never fit in and
I feel I never belonged.
I would dance in the rain - the rain that they predicted-
I would dance and sing in this cruel world trying to cope until the sky would fall and
I would find myself in that sky, searching for the world into which I was born?
I am searching for always for that magical place that
Presently only exists inside the world of my thoughts.
Some years ago they took me and locked me inside a room they called 'Seclusion'-
A room dreaded by many to be locked inside-but I found peace of mind there,
If such a thing exists and in this room I could build my fantasies and dreams-
Until they released me back into that world that had not been kind to me.
Let it rain and let lightening strike-let the rain wash my tears away-
I guess I will keep dancing and singing in the rain until the sky falls or until
They take me away again and lock me in that room once more and there
I can lose myself into the world I created and listen to the rain fall as the sky falls-
While thunder claps- a beautiful sound that drowns out angry voices and
Lightening strikes, brightening a pathway where some day I dream,
I will find peace of mind without ever having to turn back time.

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Who Is Going To Get The Credit For It

Volunteering one's time in some communities,
Has led to the experience or receiving indignities...
By some.

In areas where egos are high in number.
And years are clocked for doing the slightest thing.
Volunteering one's time in some communities,
Where neglect has been obviously done...
By those peacocking nonstop providing lip service.
Can be detrimental to one's generosity of spirit.

Volunteering one's time in these atmospheres,
Can pose a threat,
To those who are accustomed to complaining.
They will state their issues have been overlooked.
And what is it really wished personally by someone donating time.
Since they have had the time themselves
And nothing seems to have gotten done.

These comments are unbelievably 'consciously' stated.

'Perhaps those who volunteer can assist in correcting this? '

~And who is going to get the credit for it?
We want to know this! That's our main priority.
Why should they get the credit for something we can do? ~

'Uh...yeah. There is a problem.
Solving it may take more than what a volunteer can offer.'

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Without a Word to Be Spoken

It is important for one to be grounded.
With a solid and sound identity.
To know who one is by living the 'experience'.
Making mistakes and going through heartbreaks...
With aches and pains.
Sustain to affect emotions!
This aids the growth process.
And ushers in a maturity.
Allowing one to eventually...
Listen to others patiently with silent lips.
And perfect the raising of one eyebrow at a time.
When one discovers they have found,
That technique leaves them with a peace of mind...
Only then can it be said,
They know 'who' they are and can communicate...
Without a word to be spoken.
And left assured their respect is intact.
Even though a few may need a hint or two.

'What does the raised right eyebrow mean? '

Back off!

'Oh?
OH!
Oh...I'll catch you at a more convenient time! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A reaction to a film

A score of years my truth for you
A life without contact captured forever now here
This fact silent absorbed fed by my illusion
Filling the raw reality of moods silent eruption

As I watch myself ailing aging and fading
The flow approaches denouement this layer cake life
Never any release - no -nor any single word
Until death bed lips mouth your conjoured name

poem by Michael Oliver
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The Women

This world is, because of the woman
this universe is, because of the woman
nothing exists without the woman
our existence is, because of the woman.

Why being a woman then
should be humiliation?
Why a woman then
should face indignation?
always the woman becomes the prey...?
always the woman has no say.....?

The woman is a mother, also a mother–in-law
the woman is a sister, also a sister-in-law
the woman has many roles to play
a daughter-in-law perfects that night & day.

Why then a woman does
torture another woman?
Why does a ma-in-law
torches a daughter in-law?
Why does a woman destroy another’s world?
Why does jealousy overcomes a sister-in-law?

In the woman, power is manifest,
yet she is unaware and that is a jest.
she becomes Durga when in rage
telling everyone, she is no sage
the woman is where, awakening is there
her absence creates crematoriums everywhere.

Why do then a woman abhor the birth of a female?
Wants a child, whose gender is male?
the male is indebted to her for the courage and life
yet no rewards for the woman, her entire life.

This is the story of the woman, full of anguish
Plight of a woman is because of another’s wish
Exploitation of the woman could not have taken place
Had a woman given the other a little more space.

poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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The Question Remains

When vile necessities
And confidence are shaken,
A compromise is forsaken
In the best of breeds...

How did I become this?
For you, there is no answer.
It is something I have sought
Until I found peace...

Let no interference
Persuade me against my wish,
The alibi-that exists,
Need not have a name...

Neither I should
Weigh too much on mine
For if I were a word,
I might come out and die...

Life, like a spoken word,
Will sometime perishes,
Spoken word transforming
Like a wish-never preserved...

Were I to discard
All vanities for a time
To know the depth of being
From the lower side? ...

Was it important
To experience the loss
Of something which has value
Sacrificed too fast?

The question still remains! ...

poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Joy In A Dark World

Though this world may be sad, The Lord Jesus makes one glad,
A Fortress for you in any place, surrounding you with His Grace,
Providing you joy, deep inside, that, by a world can't be denied,
While filling you with God's Light, in a world where wrong is right.

Living in this world, without hope, The Lord Jesus helps us cope,
Filling us with a joy and peace, that in a dark world will not cease,
Christ is the Blessed Hope for us, all who believe in Christ Jesus,
Being led by His staff and rod; are all who have this hope in God.

Hope in God the world does not have, so they use political salve,
While leaders say believe in me, and we'll have peace and safety,
A tactic that's perpetrated by, Satan, leading all to the ultimate lie,
That he alone is Almighty God, to be worshiped by all on this sod,

All shall only get darker dear friend, as this Age comes to an end,
Men spoofed and souls deceived, as Truth, they haven't received,
Yet, they'll believe words of men; deceptive lies of how and when,
Peace will be ushered in by them, a plan God above will condemn!

The world's lack of righteousness, can weary those in Christ Jesus,
While in this world we are annoyed, but, in Christ we are overjoyed,
In our Hope, that's beyond this world, in a time that is yet unfurled,
That time we'll enter into Eternal Life, with our Savior, Jesus Christ.

(Copyright ©06/2012)

poem by Bob Gotti
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Lost Love, Never Found

So many times I have been asked,
"Are you alone on this moonlit night?
Do you live in solitude, never to open your eyes to the world?
Do you know of all those alive
Searching everyday for somebody to love and for
Somebody with whom to fall in love with? "
Someone to give you flowers,
To dine with or to hold in one's arms?
Are you alone on a rainy night, or
By yourself on a lovely spring day,
Taking each step you take in solitude,
With nobody to share your thoughts with-
How many years have you lived alone
With nobody to open your heart up to? "
These are the words and questions of many-
Also asking me how many times I have loved and lost-or
Have you loved and lost before in
Any given moment in time?
All I can do is to respond and say to that world out there continuously wondering is that
I am the queen of my own world; my eyes open to my own thoughts,
Alone in the world of my own imaginings and
Rejoicing every day and night to be
Alone in my own special castle- loving myself and
Being my own best and closest friend-
Solitude is a safe and pleasurable haven for me-
I am alone but never lonely- and if one is to ask me
"Have you ever been in love before and lost?
I can only respond- "I have never lost a love before, because in your eyes,
A love I have never found-but I have learned to be a friend and a loving companion to myself- I trust myself, value my talents and dance, sing and laugh everyday
With myself in solitude- I suppose I have loved before and do love now, as
I have become my own best and closest friend-
I have never loved and lost- because I adore my spirit for some time now and
I haven't had to search further than my own home and yard to find myself, and
It hasn't taken much time for me to come to the realization that
I can find flowers in my own back yard, and
Myself, I shall never lose…

poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Dawning

Only at dawn
Do I believe that a higher being may be
Looking down upon me through the rays of light emanating from the rising sun as
The full moon descends behind the mountaintops,
This morning I could envision a ladder from the creek side
Reaching toward the heavens-
The sky, being a rare shade of cerulean blue and
Pale lavender lightly coloring cumulus clouds,
Only at the dawning of each new day
Is the time I feel hopeful and undaunted?
I live within a world that has not been kind to me-
Though at the dawning of another day
Walking through the woodlands I know that I am safe in my solitude,
For that higher being is always looking down upon me
Watching over me, protecting me from all harm?
Voices I hear in the night have callously threatened me but
At the break of the day, I hear the voices of angels
Soothing my troubled soul and gently comforting me while
In my moments of madness I could have lost myself forever.
My spirit is now dancing to the tune of
An aria of peace, sung by those seraphs
Inside of my mind, greeting me
And chasing away the demons that
Had threatened me only the night before-
As those seraphs join a chorus of angels from above
Singing amorous tunes only to console me- if I could
I would climb that phantasmal ladder towards the sky, to escape reality;
Lost inside an instant of madness,
A moment so brief, an encounter with the surreal
Has given me reason to persevere-
Only at dawn, as the sun journeys above the hilltops
Can I hear voices of angels- and I do suppose, and
I only believe that there is hope and tranquility
To be found, in some distant star, illuminating the sky
As the sun rises and as the moon descends beyond the horizon,
I have lost myself inside of a dream that could be heaven
Where I am safe in my solitude, as my thoughts are lost in some other realm-
Within my fondest dream, for them never to be found would be my utmost desire,
Climbing that ladder towards the sky,
Abandoning the threatening voices that wished me harm,
Leaving the nightmares of veracity behind,
As I open my eyes to the dawning and behold that forever rainbow in the sky-

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Baby Shower

Welcome baby
You ‘re awaited
Hear the cheers
Happiness inside
Happiness around
Happiness sprinkled
Here and there
And everywhere…

Mom takes the pounding
Dad gets anxious
And grand parents
Bouncing with delight
Rare ones in all colors
They gather one by one…
A room full of toys
Not enough anymore.

Here we are
Sharing the moments
We welcome you
With open arms…

Y'r world's delightful
Y'r world's wonderful
And for us all
You ‘re the world,
And the universe.

poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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I Am Not Bothered

all i do are mere exercises
as i flex a word
make it run in the confines of a clause
into the sentences of
my soul

i take you and i play
i create a door and when you are inside a room
you may have seen nothing at all

because you very well know
about the story of the wind
it makes you colder and feel
that it is just lying there

i am always far away from you
even if you kiss me passionately

all i do is caress a letter
and it grows into some pretty words
because of love

i sow a vowel into a fertile ground of consonants
and then the sounds of concerns begin to hush

you see a baby
you baby talk it
you surrender the maturity of your thoughts
because all it has given you is pain

a thousand flowers bloom
filling colors to the black array of stones

in silence the sands are too beautiful
the sea breeze wants to drown them

these are the exercises of the mind
looking for justifications for some hardships that are left
in the dark

words are not just tools
they are also toys
to make the child believe that this world is too a
playground for joys

there is an experience of so much freedom
in every clause in every cause

you wonder why i do not dabble into punctuations
anymore
i am not bothered
i am not sour....

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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