Some Questions To Myself On My Quest To Happiness
ask me, and i will answer:
i got what i wanted from this life, but despite
that fact, there is still the question
to and fro
like a doubtful philosopher
like a pendulum of grandfather's clock:
what did i really want?
i did call myself my own beloved
(am i not narcissistic in this sense?)
i felt myself with my own fingers, my chest, my body,
my thighs, my feet
so attached to the ground
like i am monument
of a war hero, but there is still this question
that walks to and fro
on the yard, like a doubtful philosopher:
who am i really? why am i here?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Time's Ticking Away
The pendulum swings,
In such a perpetual way,
It keeps on moving,
In a continuous sway.
The momentum decides,
Time's passing on,
A tick on the clock,
And the moment is gone.
The pendulum swings,
To left and to right,
Time's ticking along,
In mad rhythmic flight.
And as it moves onwards,
Time's ticking away,
There's no way of stopping,
The road to decay.
The pendulum swings,
Another second goes by,
The clock's keeping time,
But time wants to fly.
By night and by day,
Time never stands still,
The pendulum swings,
At 'Time's' endless will.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Grandfather Clock
The old Tudor house was half-timbered and gaunt,
Was gloomy and dim in the hall,
And time had stood still, since my father was born,
In the clock that had stood by the wall.
Its pendulum hung, never making a sound
I'd never so much heard it chime,
But then, on the day that my Dad passed away,
Its tick had begun to keep time.
My mother was dead and my father was gone,
The half-timbered house passed to me,
I wandered its passages, sad and distraught,
As lonely as one man could be!
I'd sit in the lounge and I'd read by a lamp
With the rest of the house cloaked in gloom,
And heard the dread tick of that grandfather clock
As it echoed in time through the room!
Each tick was a portent, the passing of life,
Each tock brought me nearer to death,
I'd listen for noises, the timber that creaked,
Sit terrified, holding my breath!
The warm summer showers pit-pattered the thatch,
The wind would sough-sough at the eaves,
And summer passed quickly to autumn that year
In a thick golden carpet of leaves.
I never once wound up that grandfather clock,
I waited for it to wind down,
But like a tap dripping, it never would stop
I felt I was starting to drown.
I found in the library's masses of books
An ancient collection of tomes,
And one that was covered in leather, I looked,
And read, and I wished that I'd known!
Sir Richard FitzWalter had lived in that house,
And he it was, ordered the clock,
He'd fought against Cromwell for Charlie the First
‘Til Charles lost his head on the block!
He'd fled to the country, was caught in the house,
And hanged on the tree by the gate,
His wife, Lady Mary, had begged for his life
But the Roundheads had jeered: ‘You're too late! '
She left them, went sobbing back into the hall
And she clung to the grandfather clock,
But just as her husband, his heart ceased to beat,
She heard that the ticking had stopped.
That clock never ran for the rest of her life,
But showed just a quarter to four,
The time that Sir Richard was pinioned and hung
At the gate, on the tree by his door.
The clock began ticking when Mary had died,
Had taken her grief to the grave,
And each generation it stopped or began
When the master was born, or was saved!
I knew then the clock had been ticking for me
And I wanted it never to stop,
I'd wake in the night and I'd tremble to hear
If my heart was still pounding, or not.
Then one winter's night I was restless, and rose
From my sleep, and walked down to the hall,
A Cavalier soldier stood facing the clock,
Adjusting the pendulum pawl;
Resetting the weights on that grandfather clock
So my heart would continue to beat,
From that time to this, I have lived here content
While Sir Richard returns as I sleep.
6 August,2012
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Grandpa's Clock
in that ticking of the clock
three generations of time
had ticked past...
with some tickings fixed firm
each ticking concealed
tireless roar of the sea
and a conundrum of emotions
time has its way of
teasing and tiring us
one fine evening during
a casual chitchat as sister
got off from the chair
she hit back at time and
the grandfather's clock-
though i had never known him
but through the clock fixed to the wall-
that seemed to chime
eternally into the wee hours
each time waking me up cruelly
from an innocent sleep
lay there in pieces...
the pendulum, still oscillates
the conundrum, still unsolved
the flux of the sea, still echoes
though we could never manage
to get another clock
and external surfaces
still gleam and glitter...
20dec2009
08.21hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Tick Tock!
There once was a time
When there was but one,
He came in a sleigh with his bells turned on,
With a long white beard and a fat red pelt
And a tassle and a bobble and a Sam Browne belt!
Just once in the year
He'd appear on high,
With reindeers, winging through the stars in the sky,
And he'd bring all the presents that the kids desired,
They'd send him all their letters in the smoke from the fire.
But the year came round
When it all went wrong,
While singing and a-playing of the reindeer song,
For a boy lay awake while the world was asleep
As Saint Nick clambered down the chimney-piece.
The fairy on the tree
Looked down and around
To the holly and the mistletoe, and then, she frowned!
For the boy sat and listened to the grandfather clock,
As the old clock muttered to the hearth - Tick! Tock!
Then a shower of soot
And the old black boots,
As Santa came a-calling in his old red suit,
But he saw a little movement, hidden by the tree
And he roared -'No presents for the likes of thee! '
He turned to the hearth
To the chimney-piece,
As the boy sprang out with a whimpered: 'Please! '
But the rules had been written by the man in the hood,
'I only leave presents where the children are good! '
The boy thought quick,
He'd heard 'Tick! Tock! '
He opened up the front of the grandfather clock,
Then said, 'That's fine, in a goody-goody home,
But what about the kids who are bad to the bone? '
Then he caught St Nick
By his Sam Browne belt,
Pulled him off his balance in his old red pelt,
Then stuffed him in the front of the grandfather clock
That had muttered to the blinking of the tree, Tick! Tock!
The boy then turned
The key in the lock,
Imprisoned him forever in the grandfather clock,
He took all the presents from the old man's sack,
And once he took the presents there was no going back!
There's no more Santa
And there's no more sleigh
For it got a parking ticket on the very next day,
And the parking inspector set the reindeer free,
For no-one asked the question - 'Where can he be? '
So now there are streets full
Of men in red suits,
With their false white beards, and their fake black boots
With the only real Santa, imprisoned in a clock,
He's jammed against the pendulum, it can't - Tick! Tock!
11 December 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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His Answer To My Question Was A Question
His answer to my question
Was a question
My answer to his reply
Was returned
With another question
The game of
Answering and asking
Questions
Did not end
Till I questioned
The very motive
Of our conversation
We came to the conclusion
How to pass time?
Was the biggest question
Asking questions
And creating confusion
Was the answer
So we passed our time
Asking and answering questions
The question now is
Whether we did right or wrong?
The answer is
Why ask a useless question?
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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The Pendulum
The pendulum swings to both extremes;
Each side is unreal or so it seems.
Good times are too good and bad times too bad.
So both sides replace the spaces they had.
All that is sure is that change will occur.
Those who embrace it will no doubt endure.
Those fighting the pendulum and its change
Will flounder and falter in a life they estrange.
Opportunities abound as the pendulum swings.
For the advantageous there’s a plethora of things.
But the negative attitude will suffer a fall
When struck severely by the pendulum’s ball.
As stark as today’s events appear to be,
The pendulum’s equilibrium will set them free.
Look to the long term with unfailing hope.
Take advantage of the pendulum no matter its slope.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Love Is The Way
Deep in the heart of the infinite darkness
A tiny blue marble is spinning through space
Born in the splendor of gods holy vision
And sliding away like a tear down his face
Closer you see the whole wide holy wonder
Of oceans and mountains and rivers and trees
And the strangest creation of many, the human
A creature of laughter and freedom and dreams
Now the warriors are waving their old rusty sabres
The preachers are preaching the gospel of hate
By their behaviour determined to teach us
A lesson were soon to be learning to late.
Look closer my brother, were killing each other
And wed better stop and get started today
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Because life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
Yes, life is the question and life is the answer
And God is the reason and love is the way.
song performed by by Kris Kristofferson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Admit the truth
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me, to my straight question.
At what time that day did you bring
Your wife from her bosses flat?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
At what home did you get your maid
Aborted and at what cost to save your pride?
Tell me the truth once in your life.
Answer me to my straight question.
How many son-in-laws did you change
Before you set her in a wealthy lord?
Tell me the truth once in your life
Before you die a death of beach,
Having built your fort on illicit bricks.
Admit the truth at least only once.
20.03.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Must Be No!
No is no! that is what the answer must be
Before I destroy my soul and ruin my destiny
If I think an action might corrupt my virtue or my soul
Then the answer to that question, must always be no.
Never ever will I answer with a maybe or even a yes
When I know that someday that sin I must confess
Though I might not know alot but one thing I do know
When it conflicts my pride and honor, the answer is no.
My reputation and my values is what makes myself me
It is how that I am known from what others do see
So could I lie or cheat to cause others pain or woe
The answer to that question, will always be no.
No is no! and the question must end their
As I wont say yes to cause any sorrow or despair
I will not steal or rob from a friend or even a foe
And the answer to that question, is once again no.
Though I might meet with temptation or evil or corruption
It might enter my brain which will cause a disruption
But then one day I know my past it will unfold
And I will feel proud in those times, that I did say no.
A poor man has nothing a rich man has his wealth
But that will not send a soul to either heaven or hell
So will I lie or use to deceive either the young or the old
Once again to that answer, it will always be no.
poem by Randy McClave
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Grandfather Clock
The old grandfather clock stood in the hall
It kept time for us all
Through winter, spring, summer, fall
When I was young I would say
The big hand is on five today
and that's how I told time that way
As I progressed in age
Time was read in the correct usage
And time became more of a gauge
Time to go to school and learn
Time to work for what you earn
Time to leave no stone unturned
Time for weddings dresses worn
Time for children to be born
Time for graduation gowns adorned
Time for me, time for you
Time to see things through
Time for living and dieing too
The old grandfather clock still keeps time
Counting the hours that life is prime
So make the most or be left behind
Question
Looking for question: have you got one?
Hungry for question: will you give one?
Looking for question
O Yeah
Looking for question
Because
God gives the answer.
God gives the answer
In so many ways!
That’s why
Looking for question
O Yeah
Searching for question.
poem by Asif Andalib
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A new question has arisen in modern man's mind, the question, namely, whether life is worth living... No sensible answer can be given to the question... because the question does not make any sense.
quote by Erich Fromm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sun Of The First Day
The sun of the first day
Put the question
To the new manifestation of life-
Who are you?
There was no answer.
Years passed by.
The last sun of the last day
Uttered the question
on the shore of the western sea
In the hush of evening-
Who are you?
No answer came again.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Where Do I Go From Here?
When you finish with something or someone
the question you ask yourself
is where do I go from here.
To some there is no easy answer,
others have a route already planned,
while others say I’ll wait until something happens
and then I’ll move along.
No matter whom you are
the question still remains whenever something ends,
where do I go from here.
There is never an easy answer
it remains up to you.
Life keeps going forward at a steady pace
and you have to make your own mind up
which way you want to go
when that question suddenly appears.
Where do I go from here?
poem by David Harris
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The Answer
Yeah,
I've been waiting for you
So patiently
And now you're here
Ohhhhhh
You're my answer
Thank you (Yeah)
Ohhhhhh
I think you're my answer
Uh, Here I go
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning inside)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're my answer)
You're my answer
Patiently I've waited for this day to finally come
Knowing someday somehow I would find that special one
Someone perfect, someone true, someone that I knew, was you (I knew it was you)
Who can hold me tight, keep me warm, through the night
Who can wipe my tears, when it's wrong, make it right
Who can give me love, 'til I'm satisfied
Who's the one I need in my life
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yeaning inside)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're the answer baby)
You're my answer
I can hardly speak because I'm underneath your spell
Saving every moment that I have you to myself
Putting my love to the test
'Cuz baby this is destiny (Yeah, This is destiny)
You can hold me tight, keep me warm, through the night
You can wipe my tears, when its wrong, make it right
You can give me love, 'til I'm satisfied
You're the one I need in my life
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're my answer)
You're my answer (You're my answer)
You're the answer (Yeah)
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning for you)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (Burning)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're the answer)
You're my answer
Who can hold me tight, keep me warm, through the night?
Who can wipe my tears, when it's wrong, make it right?
Who can give me love, 'til I'm satisfied?
Who's the one I need in my life? (You're my answer)
You're the answer (You're the answer)
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning)
You're the answer to the question that's been burnin' (That's been burning)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (The answer baby)
You're my answer
You're the answer (You're my answer
You're my answer, You're My answer)
Yeah, you're my answer
song performed by by Britney Spears
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgetting search
Forgetting search
I answered
The question present
That is unanswered.
A hint of answer
Question sidetrack
People fled away
Not knowing
What is question
And what is answer.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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My Question for M lady Fay
There is a question I must pose
In the vain hope that someone knows
Who’s willing to enlighten me.
Before my birth where would I be
This question always puzzles me
and when I die where do I go.
I have asked priests who hesitate
to answer me, they vacillate.
Because in truth they do not know.
They quote their Holy Book to me
But I have looked and cannot see.
The answer that I seek to find.
Why is it that they pretend to know
from whence I came and where I go.
And yet they will not answer me.
My question is a simple one
I make it clear to everyone.
But no one seems to understand.
The truth is what I seek to know
From whence I came where do I go.
Will somebody please answer me.
20-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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What is knowledge
What is knowledge
Who is there to explain.
This common question
Has no answer.
I undertake not to put
Any other question
Till the answer availabe.
The answer that is available
Is not applicable.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The Question Of U
So what is the answer 2 the question of u
What do I look 4, what shall I do?
Which way do I turn when Im feeling lost?
If I sell my soul, now what will it cost?
Must I become naked? no image at all?
Shall I remain upright? or get down and crawl?
All of the questions in my life will be answered
When I decide which road 2 choose
What is the answer 2 the question of u?
U.
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another important historical factor is the fact that this already very simple religion was further simplified and purified by the early philosophers of ancient China. Our first great philosopher was a founder of naturalism; and our second great philosopher was an agnostic.