Valediction....
it was never me
there is never a part of me that was there
you have misinterpreted the truth about those characters of the novel,
the words in that poem
the metaphors are outdated
refer to another reality,
the reality that i have carried upon my shoulders
i am the horse, not that horseman,
i am not the star, i am just the asteroid at the background
i am the silence between your sighs,
do not read my silence,
you will find a word that cannot stand for me,
i am not even that tail of that great meteor that comes to your life
once in a century
it is not me that you see in those flowing words,
they are those pieces of undecided driftwood that i pick from the great flood
those dry falling leaves that land on my forehead
from the great tree of life
do you really have to find pieces of myself in those lines to make
the write-up interesting to you?
i am so sorry
call me a liar, but that is the truth
there is truth in empathy
there is truth in putting our feet in some other people's shoes
that is what literature is all about
read some more and be discouraged
fathom and then
be enlightened about the sufferings of others
their miseries that soon shall provide you company
when you sit upon a chair with a smoke in your left hand
and a margarita (or black coffee) on your right
upon an empty table
facing the sea
witnessing the beautiful fading
on another sunset
in your life
do not wish that i shall be there
oh, i have long been gone into another island
do not attempt to find me
i am not there anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
(V - 2009) The Truth of the Truth
The Sages and Seers
That be and have been
Cannot have seen
The truth of the Truth!
What they see as Truth
Is Truth merely
It’s not really
The truth of the Truth!
The Ultimate Truth
Cannot be known
We aren’t that grown –
The truth of the Truth!
We’re part of the Truth
We’re trying to see
We’re yet so tiny –
The truth of the Truth!
Though hard and great
The pains we give
We cannot outlive
The truth of the Truth!
What’s Truth to you once
Remains not the same
So changing the game –
The truth of the Truth!
What’s Truth to a man
Is not Truth to all
That’s what we call
The truth of the Truth!
These thoughts as I pen
It’s Truth to me
It’s to me only
The truth of the Truth!
Finding Truth
They say that everyone lies
It is said that everyone will hurt you
They say honesty is the best policy
But what happens when we find the truth?
What if we find something we don't want to?
What if we find our life has been a lie?
What if we find all we ever worked for was for nothing?
What happens when we find the truth?
Is it possible to find truth within a person?
Can one person bring light into your world?
Can that one person make everything right?
Can finding that one person be like finding truth?
If it is possible then i believe i found truth
Truth to my life
Truth to everything i've searched for
Truth for the rest of my life.
The lies are over
My life complete
Truth to who i am
Which is all i ever wanted to know...to know just who i am.
This is dedicated to my g/f Gini, i love her so much.
poem by Ben mcelfresh
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Truth That Sets You Free
Words expressed to you and me, that the truth will set you free,
Not simply truth of any kind, but, Truth which leaves sin behind,
The Truth spoken of is Him; The One Who saves many from sin,
The Truth available to all of us, is the Lord Himself, Christ Jesus.
Friend in the Bible you shall find, God's Truth of an Eternal kind,
Truth that is beyond the world, Truth which Jesus Christ unfurled,
A Truth that's meant for everyone, coming from God's Only Son,
His Truth, which sets men free, from the present through eternity.
Common truths known on earth, for man, are of no eternal worth,
All common truths known to man, access not God's eternal plan,
They are better than lies for us, but, have not His Righteousness,
Common truth won't get us to, Eternity, prepared for me and you.
The only Saving truth, in this life, is Truth, in the person of Christ,
God's saving Truth all men need, His Gospel Truth all must heed;
Common truth will not set you free, or give you new life eternally,
For man's word shall fade away, but, God's Truth is here to stay.
The Saving Truth, you have heard, is there for all in God's Word,
The Way, the Truth and the Life, is the Living Word, Jesus Christ,
Whose Word comes from eternity, Truth, that saves you and me,
Reading His Word reveals proof, He's the author of Eternal Truth.
Which Is Which
> To beware of the truth.
> Is truth...it, self?
> So, what is truth?
>
> Is truth, true love?
> Or...just a reality?
> To be a man...is that truth?
>
> A man...is reality.
> A woman...is reality.
> To be woman...is that truth?
>
> To have more then one partner
> Is a reality of the world.
>
> Which this world agrees.
> Truth is; in my point of view
> Is what one claims to be truth.
>
> But, the truth is whatever you
> Are doing as I speak.
> A woman is good for the soul.
>
> That truth is very bold.
> A man lives for his manhood
> So I am told.
>
> Is it truth or reality?
> Respect is in the middle of the spectrum.
> Male vs. Female
>
>
> That is truth.
> Man being woman
> A reality.
>
> Woman being man...
> She tries.
> Respect cover both the unreal and the wise.
>
> Truth or reality...we never really
> Give it much thought.
> Maybe it was the way we are taught.
>
> Truth or reality...
> Which is Which?
>
>
> whisperkwane
>
> [email protected]
>
>
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Read poem write poem and poem
Read poem write poem and poem
I know poem is the best
Poem has emotion poem has life
Through poem we can reach
Where we want to reach.
I express myself through poem
Truth is in the poem
And truth is my expression.
Know truth live with truth
Truth is in the poem.
Read poem write poem and poem.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Truth and Lies
Some poeple always tell the truth,
Some people never lie,
You lied you fibbed and told the truth,
You managed to make me cry.
It's not that very often,
When someone tells the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but,
I really can't believe you,
I've got to have some proof.
How could you go and do this,
You said you'd never hurt me,
Was that just another lie?
Because you've gone and made me cry.
I think you'll find that in this life,
You'll find two different sorts,
There ones that tell the truth
and ones that always lie.
The ones that tell the truth,
Will make you sing and dance,
The ones that tell the lies,
Will make you sad and cry.
poem by Claire Abbott
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If The Truth Is My Due
I would prefer praise to criticism any day
But for as long as people their truth to me do say
And with lies not defame me in any way
I will 'cop it sweet' with me 'twill be okay
Yet some people even whilst speaking the truth
By their words alone do seem lacking in ruth
Even the truth spoken crudely can leave a mental sting
The great power of words can be a hurtful thing
Yet the truth is the truth and can never defame
It is with your own actions that you sully your name
Due to jealousy or a sense of revenge some with their words are cruel
And with their words to character ruin light the fuel
I will accept the truth if the truth is my due
For as long as you say of me of me what's true.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Truthified
It would be great
If the truth
Was not such a tremendous part,
Of our ever growing bout with reality!
People would believe anything
They were told.
A cure for anything
Would be sold on TV.
Accountability?
It wouldn't exist at all!
Disrespect would be accepted.
A diminished mindset...
With a decreased quality of life,
Would prevail!
And lies?
Well...
It would be great
If the truth
Was not such a huge part
Of reality!
There seems to be an overflow of it!
And you know what 'they' say...
About having too much of a good thing?
It just seems 'too' good to be true!
We've been 'truthified'.
And even denial has achieved glouting status!
'Are you being sarcastic? '
Who me?
NEVER!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth
The truth about a truth is that
The truth can’t be concealed for long;
And when revealed, the truth appears
A bigger truth than what it was.
Truth is beautiful; splendid;
Truth is eternal; everlasting;
Truth is endearing to righteous hearts;
Truth is consoling, comforting;
Truth is perennial; evergreen;
Truth is God.
Truth is a virtue all yearn for;
Truth is global, heavenly;
Truth is uncompromising;
Truth is always encouraging;
Truth is desirable; exhilarating.
Truth is mankind’s ultimate search;
Truth is a great topic of research;
Truth is delighting; enchanting;
Truth is trust-worthy from
Beginning to the end.
No lies can hide a truth for long;
No lies can make a lie, a truth;
All lies will vanish leaving truth exposed,
As bright as ever any time.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-08-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Way To Write The Truth
it is when you write the truth
that words become accurate,
they become so touching, and those who hear them
identify with them
in the most sentimental manner
perhaps because truth is a sentiment
something that strikes the heart rather than the mind
it is something so personal that someone does not even want to speak about it
again
it is not spoken because no words can take it from its clarity
every detail is an obvious and
intricate design
in fact there is a map there
that connects you and
the speaker & the other listener
over there
the bridge becomes so strong
that all men in all walks of life with their women
begin to cross
in silence but with the full understanding that this is it
it is us
sometimes i tell you that i am lying
that is the best truth that i can give you
for a while that the pain is not that strong
for fear that it crosses that path that leads to you
and then
i will be too unfair
to give it to all of you
like a Trojan horse
or the seeds of discord
it is when i write the truth
that i feel rested, because by then you will confirm what i feel
what i say, what i did not say that i feel
and then i become a part of you
and then i am not lonely anymore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poets, Oh! Poets awake awake and face the world!
Life is bright and a pleasure to enjoy!
And above how nice to see the moon light!
Love is without blemishes and bliss in life!
Poets lie; lie more as much as you can!
Always write the positive traits
And suppress the negative, is it your habit
Or consciously do you do, to flinch the reality?
How do you get pleasure living in falsehood?
Life may be bright and but it has darkness inside
Which can't be overlooked, the moon has a spot
Love is a lust tick which sucks blood.
Poets play happy, happy game as much as you can!
But reality is truth, truth is the more reality
Make believe is a fairy tale lies only in the dream
When you awake it breaks in thousand pieces
Poets, oh! Poets awake, awake and face the world,
As it is! It is more beautiful and more truth in it.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Sad But The Truth Is On
There are too many bold,
Sad but the truth is on.
And too may all-knowing for their teachers.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they say their teachers can't teach,
Or read, or write to them...
On their lowered levels.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Many never knew about a hug to touch.
Sad but the truth is on.
There's just too many needing loving.
Sad but the truth is on.
And they don't believe a lesson taught to them,
Reveals and begins to grow to show.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad about the truth!
The truth for so many has gone.
It's so sad to see it...
Nonexisting.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
It's sad about the truth,
Today!
For so many that truth is gone.
It's so sad today...
That,
People sit back to watch it too!
Sad but the truth is on.
It's so sad but the truth is on.
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
'Cause nothing in the air is fair there!
Everybody's talking about a fairness.
But nothing there is fair.
And,
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Everything once fair there is gone.
Because nothing in the air is fair,
There!
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
Sad but the truth is on.
It's a long and lonely,
Sentimental journey.
Sad but the truth is on.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poet Tried To Shackle My Words
A poet tried to shackle my words,
as if from every poem
the message was stripped,
as if nowhere there was any mastery
of rhythm and sound to be found
as if I had sold my soul
to masses of people reading my verses,
as if I live in disrespect
to the expertise that a great poet
displays in his work
as if every line of mine
was just a wild cacophony
that I had flung together
in a utter hurry
to shower down on crowds of people.
Yet I while I swam against a tempest sea,
sticking to the truth and integrity,
trying to find answers to life’s mysteries
and problems
trying to expose injustice and oppression
there was boasting about a elitis clique
that totally excludes me
but they were going along the path
of political correctness and maybe indifference,
being far too scared to ruffle some feathers,
writing verses sixty times over and over
before they were becoming poems somehow,
before their words were catching some magic
believing that a great poem,
is like a jigsaw puzzle,
that you have got to unravel
with a dictionary,
where simple words can fuse together
with a own type of magic,
lacking in the ability
to find poetry in ordinary things,
to create poetry in lines
that by themselves fuses together
to create something great
but my words kept on coming,
falling into lines,
as if designed by a divine presence
and by themselves fused
into much deeper meaning
than I could find with my own abilities.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Truth Through Repetition
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Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetiion
Truth through repetition Truth through repetition Truth through repetition
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poem by David Keig
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No Mandatory Rhymes Or Reason
Homer to
Chaucer to
Whitman to
Bukowski et al. to
Me to
You
A poem is where I find it,
Not just what was written
In a different time.
Pieces of a poem are everywhere.
Pick them up, pull them together, write them down
And they call you a poet.
Ignore the pieces you see in person, read or hear;
You've wasted your sight and hearing
And they don't call you at all.
poem by Tom J. Mariani
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Write to Tell the Truth I Have Known
I DREAMED I WAS A POEM
I dreamed I was a poem
And the universe read and reread me-
Until waking up I understood
I would never be written again.
I WRITE TO TELL THE TRUTH I HAVE KNOWN
I write to tell the truth I have known -
But there is so much truth
And so much life unrecognized and unremembered-
Most of my life has gone by
Unknown to me-
And even my most intense moments
Cannot be remembered so as to be re- experienced.
I
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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if you are on the same boat with me. Come.
as you read these lines
(let me tell you, there is nothing
significant, and i may advise you
to quit and may even ask
that you write your own
instead
it may be good for you
than continue to read
on the next line...
why not write
something about yourself and the
full moon and the lonely tree
that needs badly a
good company to pass the dark
night away)
why not just be
on your own,
solitude and self-introspection?
the secret journey to your heart
looking for
the place that is only for you
happiness, right?
eternal bliss, how about it?
you are curious about my boredom
the ennui of the century
perhaps you like to know how i deal
with the numbness of my being
every night every day
when slowly i die and feel so excited
about ending this ordeal and
how i cope with it
yes, the it.
this it. my it. this self....
attempting on
writing lines
whatever lines that come into my mind
words that try to please my senses
symbols that give me hope
figures of gods who may be able to say
something wise and
inspiring,
images. lots of images...
the image of the wind
on the wings of the seagulls
the colors changing on the horizon
like a swab of orange and red and black
or blood
or pastel green on the shadows of the hills
or the brightness of the sun when i stare at it and hurt my eyes
and then i close them
and see this world as all red
bursting red
like a sunset coming
and then fading away like a song
of a flute faraway
i wish i could stop writing
i wish that i could get a nice sleep
a restive mind
a peaceful state
a harmony of all my sense
up and down
but nothing seems to work right for me
i tried to sing the songs of love
but my ears say
liar! you do not have love in your heart
you do not know the feeling anymore
i tried drawing my thoughts and putting bright colors
on the images of green fields and blues skies
and stars and even seven moons of the other planets
but always they end up so displeasing
i am looking for the meaning of my life and if you are
on the same boat with me
then come and take the ride
on the stormy sea
no lamplight
no island to land
no north star to guide us
i ask you to quit reading but you are just like me
hardheaded human being insisting that there is meaning to all these
and the inability to stop
and be a quitter
quieter, i mean.
hopefully.
in the silence of the cat's feet
cautiously catching another prey
let me stop now. quit me.
Look at the sky. Do you see stars?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a great liar!
I shall never believe
that a liar can not tell
a lie or a gold smith tell
the truth, the thing rather
I shall believe that a liar is
an excellent word-smith,
though I am a great liar
but a lesser poet, what a
logic! Keep secret the
secrets, do not open the
box you can not tolerate,
in the name of truth people
engaged in trade to sell the
sugar coated words keeping
hate in the heart
poem by Abdul Wahab
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The Truth, The Lie And The Fact
The truth, the lie and the fact have met.
Let’s listen to their chat!
The truth told to the fact: Everyone lies.
The fact answered: Here is my advice:
Don’t be in a hurry with the conclusion
As everything in this world is an illusion.
The truth said:
Who will remember me?
Whose conscience will gnaw?
Will the lie accept a nondiscriminatory law?
It’s hard to tell the truth,
It’s easier to lie.
You have to forsooth,
Otherwise I’ll die.
The lie was near by listening.
What nonsense your are saying!
I am so important in man’s life.
I help in a strife.
The lie was graceful.
It was beautiful and playful.
It was not jealous but sweet,
So, darling it was, indeed!
From it’s sweet lips
The words flowed like the streamlets.
All those flattering words
Everyone took for the truth.
It lied without blush.
It tried everything to hush,
But so many men had problems
If the lie they welcomed.
People would like the lie to banish,
They would like the lie to vanish.
They would like it never be near,
Into their life to interfere.
And the lie has quickly decided
To make the union with the truth.
It was so nicely guided
By the cutest sleuth.
So, today the truth and the lie
Over the whole land fly.
Where is the truth? Where is the lie?
Can anyone tell if it’s so well?
The fact was left alone.
Only by God it was well known.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska
April the 1st,2011
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Truth and Reality (Opinion)
Daily at the end of my "anusthaanam"-(spiritual ritual) ", I make a strong, fervent and sincere prayer to the Divinity that intellectuals and scholars in the world should be fearless and speak the truth without any inhibitions. This has been the tradition of our ancestors and speaking truth is essential for the benefit of the society and the society will be able to know the actualities and act on them.
Normally the rulers do not like the truth to be known. Also leaders of ideologies, religions, their supporters and the like also do not like the truth to be known to the ordinary people. The writers are normally and should be fearless such that the ills and evils in the society are exposed and remedial measures are taken. But what is truth?
Truth is what it is or as it is irrespective of perceptions of the individuals. Reality is what we see of truth; how much we see of truth. Reality is always dictated by our mental make-up, likes, dislikes, limitations in our ability and willingness to see, view, comprehend and accept the truth. Reality is individual's perception of the truth. Truth, most of the times, is only perceived and rarely understood or experienced. Thus reality is limited truth. Reality is either inability to be truthful or inability and limitations of the individual to see the truth unbiased. Also truth corresponds to the individual, about himself, his Self and the reality corresponds to the objective world within and without the body of the individual.
Real situations are compromised states of existence in the attempt of pursuit of the truth. We all talk about truth limited by our perception and not the truth most of the times. We have compulsions inbuilt, acquired or imagined not to accept the truth and allow truth to be spoken or spread through us. But truth is a flowing river. It may flood us but it never dries up. On the other the reality is like a stagnated lake. Our fear of repercussions taking place if we speak, accept or propagate truth, make us real and not truthful. We prefer peaceful and calm life. We call that realistic approach and adjust and compromise.
Thus, most of the times, we are not truthful. We are all limited and confined to our perceptions of truth. Truth is best revealed when understood or experienced. But we rarely get such insight. All our knowledge and information is hearsay through books, newspapers, magazines, radio and TV news channels, web sites etc, . We are all aware that these books and news items are filtered through the editors and owners of these media. Thus the perceptions of these responsible and financing individuals decide the truth content in the item. We pick up these as truth and argue or form our own perceptions. Sometimes the editorial policy of the editors or owners of these media do not allow truth as it is to reach us when they find it objectionable in that form. Thus truth is never completely known or allowed to be known and hence not completely comprehended. The fears, imaginations, illusions shape our perceptions and our comprehension of the truth. Many times it appears that no absolute truth exists or known, perceived or understood and experienced. Just as feelings and perceptions of good and bad and other qualities, truth is also relative as "truth to me", "truth to him", "truth to you", "truth to them" and a truth accepted by all is not possible and available to be expressed, accepted or spread and we all mistake our perceptions of truth as truth without understanding or experiencing the truth. But truth is like fire. It can not be hidden or held in hand.
the palm. Truth sneaks through our cautions and suppression and declares itself.
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
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