Choice is your fate
At a fork in a path you’re confronted
With two ways as to which way you must go.
When you opt for this, that would seem better,
And when you opt that, this would seem better.
25.06.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The path leads one.
On my way in the path
When I met the first fork,
I took at random an arm [of the fork]
Which led me to the next fork,
From where taking an arm,
I met another and so on
Till I reached where I am now.
The path led me than I led myself.
06.02.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fork To Take
I had pegged you as
protégé, adoptee,
someone I could save.
The last thing
I needed
was
another lover.
You call yourself
'an accident
looking
for a place
to happen.'
I call you
my sweet, my love,
not only
because you carry knives
for me
& want to beat up
all my
ex-husbands-
but because
you can laugh
at yourself
for wanting to.
We dream
of the baby
we will never have.
The little Jewish WASP
with golden blue eyes,
poems on the tip of his tongue.
your height, my hair,
& jokes that hit
their targets
on a slant.
He will never be
in the Social Register.
But will he know
which fork to take-
as you did
when you drove
off my road,
slyly taking the wrong fork
in order to stay
the night?
O you are sly,
my sweet wheat
looking for
a harvest.
Shall I reap you?
Shall I do to you
what the hurricane
does with the waving
grain?
Shall I thresh & bind you,
run barefoot
through your body
trying to stamp out
death?
Or shall I merely
let you
lift me up
like the wind spinning
an errant seed,
& let it
take me
where it will,
right fork,
wrong fork,
no fork
at all,
since we will take
the same path
through
the air
after all?
poem by Erica Jong
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Knowing Not what’s Ahead
I don’t know what lies ahead, so I look to my Savior instead,
The One Who bore a cross for me, to die a death at Calvary,
He, Who did that for me friend, knows how my path will end,
And so I’ll fix my eyes on Him, as He gives me peace within.
On every path that we trod, we must trust our Lord and God,
For on the path He has us go, our Lord’s desires shall show,
Where that path will end for us, as we follow our Lord Jesus.
And what the outcome will be, within the plan we cannot see.
The Plan of God we must embrace, while living out our days,
As children formed of but dust, an Eternal God we can trust,
For our Lord makes no mistake, on any path He has us take,
As all things work out for good, in His ways not understood.
Whether my path is bright or dim, I must always trust in Him,
He, Who knitted me in the womb, has set up, for me a room,
In His Father’s Home above, where Christ leads by His Love,
Love, He guides me in each day, even upon the darkest way.
Even if I choose my path in life, my way’s directed by Christ,
And upon every path taken, by my Lord I am never forsaken,
Who continues daily leading me, from this earth into Eternity,
Where all things will fall in place, when I see my Savior’s face.
(07/2011)
God Will Judge
I came upon a fork in the road
And I didn't know which path to take
Should I take the path most traveled upon
As that decision I just have to make.
So I ponder the decision for a while
Till an outcome came to my mind
I would take the one that was less traveled
And truthfully I still know not why.
I started my journey down that path
As down that road I began to walk
I then began to think the thoughts to myself
And also to myself I began to talk.
I came upon two men and a woman arguing
Screaming back and forth about hate and love
I bowed my head and then I walked away
And I said to them, one day GOD he will judge.
I walked down the road a little bit further
Then I noticed water upon the path
It formed a pond which became my mirror
Then I saw myself looking in, so I had to laugh.
I looked so sad and I look so confused
As at first I didn't think that it was me
But they say with age comes wisdom and sadness
So maybe that really was myself looking back at me.
I continued my journey down the path
Just seeing were it was going to take me next
Or will the road just end like how it began
So later in the day I might sit back and reflect.
I then came across some people stealing and fighting
While an innocent man was screaming that's enough
Then like cowards I saw them all just run away
Then I said to the innocent, one day GOD he will judge.
So I continued my journey down that path
Out of curiosity to see where It would take me then
But it took me back to that same fork in the road
My ending was also where my journey did begin.
Then suddenly I had awaken from that dream
My journey was really a dream that I just had
And was it a dream about my very own circle of life
Especially my pain and suffering and what made me sad.
So I sat up in my bed and started reflecting back
Into my soul which is full of sadness of love
I think the dream was telling me do not ever forget
And that also in time to all, GOD He will judge.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Shadows of the Dark
Feelings just feel so lost and I have no idea how to figure my way out?
Tried my level best although finding my way out is not such an easy option
Life is never so easy to figure out
How can I tell you that what are my ways, so things can be figured out?
Do not know how to figure out the right path?
Let me complete my cigarette first
Then I will think of which path to follow?
Right options are difficult to search
I cannot tell which is the exact path
Still, I am trying to figure out my way
Trying to navigate the directions to follow
Thinking of ways to come to terms to life.
My ways are still somewhere in between nowhere
Do not know the exact locations of my whereabouts?
Just me alone here, feels like being, nobody among the shadows of the dark.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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The truly skillful politician is one who, when he comes to a fork in the road, goes both ways.
quote by Marco A. Almazan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watershed
Thought I knew my mind
Like the back of my hand
The gold and the rainbow
But nothing panned out as I planned
And they say only milk and honeys
Gonna make your soul satisfied
Well I better learn how to swim
Cause the crossing is chilly and wide
Twisted guardrails on the highway
Broken glass on the cement
A ghost of someones tragedy
How recklessly my time has been spent
They say that its never too late
But you dont, you dont get any younger
Well I better learn how to starve the emptiness
And feed the hunger
Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agonys your heaviest load
Youll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When youre learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while
And theres always retrospect
(when youre looking back)
To light a clearer path
Every five years or so I look back on my life
And I have a good laugh
You start at the top
Go full circle round
Catch a breeze
Take a spill
But ending up where I started again
Makes me wanna stand still
Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agonys your heaviest load
Youll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When youre learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while
Stepping on a crack
Breaking up and looking back
Til every tree limb overhead just seems to sit and wait
Til every step you take becomes a twist of fate
Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agonys your heaviest load
Youll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When youre learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while
Up on the watershed
Standing at the fork in the road
You can stand there and agonize
Till your agonys your heaviest load
Youll never fly as the crow flies
Get used to a country mile
When youre learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while
And when youre learning to face
The path at your pace
Every choice is worth your while
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life is maze
Life path is made of a net work;
One makes a choice at each fork.
Forks are frequent; so are choices.
Some are vital, some trivial.
Choices are made impulsively;
Choices are made instantly;
Choices are made by habit,
Experience, knowledge and faith.
Between pain and pleasure,
Between hedonism and virtues
And between power and possession,
Everyone’s life oscillates.
It is nothing but a sea saw.
Not every choice would click,
However best it appeared.
Your progress is not sure.
Life is maze not made by you.
The success and the failure
Are incidental and accidental.
No choice other than making choice.
13.12.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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On a Fork of Byron's
Like any other fork.—No mark you meet with
To point some psychological conceit with.
An ordinary fork. A fork to eat with.
No individuality of fashion:
No stamp of frenzy fine, or poet-passion;
An article in no respect Parnassian.
No muse “with ivy never sere” hath decked it:
In fact, it would be foolish to expect it.
I question if the muses recollect it.
A plain straightforward fork; yet interesting,
As to the world in general attesting
That poetizing hinges on digesting.
A fork not standing on its merits merely,
But, being Byron's, testifying clearly
That verse and victuals are related nearly.
Quite genuine; crest and all; a fork to swear by;
Some poet-stories doubtless hanging thereby,—
Associations such as gold can ne'er buy.
For 'twixt the fork and the divine afflatus
The links are perfect; there is no hiatus;
Fork, stomach, brain, pen,—all one apparatus.
So when the food that on the fork ascended
Grew into verse as with the brain it blended,
The fork wrote just as truly as the pen did.
For though the fork the earlier resource is,
Between the two no violent divorce is,—
I hold them to be correlated forces.
Perchance the unsuspected ministration
Of this same fork first set in circulation
The coinage of his rich imagination.
Perchance this very fork could give the clue to
What many of the famous thoughts were due to,
That now are part of me, and part of you too.
And if its prongs administered the fuel
That working duly unto brain-renewal
Kindled the thoughts that even yet fire you all,—
This very fork—(unless I quite astray be,
And you of unimpressionable clay be)—
A factor in your moral product may be.
And musing thus, does not this fork begin to you
To seem as consanguineously akin to you
As if the bard himself had stuck it into you?
'Tis ever thus: what Genius consecrateth
The nearest with the most remote collateth,
Till meanest use on highest issue waiteth.
This salad, now, in which the fork I'm pressing,
Wherein are all sweet savours coalescing—
What subtle shoot of genius efflorescing
Flowered in the flavour of so rich a blessing?
Is it that Byron's fork, some charm possessing,
Transmutes the—stop a bit—Who did the dressing?
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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Best foot forward for M 'lady Wennie
Each road you take comes to a fork
and both new paths look much the same
To left, to right which one to walk.
Which of the two will win the game.
Unless you’re blessed with second sight
you will not know which path to choose.
An even chance you’ll get it right.
You must decide you can’t refuse.
You find it harder to decide
each time you’re forced to make a choice.
Perhaps the fates are on your side
and you will find cause to rejoice.
This is the only game in town
and everybody has to play.
Some will go up and some go down.
Along life’s path they make their way.
Don’t be afraid to walk alone
and choose the less well trodden path.
Your future must remain unknown
so step out bravely come what may.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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On That Path
I'm on that path,
So was my mother,
I'm on that path,
Just like my brother.
I'm on that path,
I didn't know my father,
I'm on that path,
And i am the master.
I'm on that path,
upon the good, straying from evil.
I'm on that path-
There is no cheating.
I'm on that path,
God knows i need him.
I'm on that path,
and i hope i'm never leaving ;)
the HEARTbraker
poem by Madina Morr
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The Path I Tread
And I'll walk down a familiar path
With a worn out sole and a heavy heart
I'll dream of amends futilely in the midst
And in your faith tightly cleaves.
Distance stretched you from my silence
In desolation ignite your absence
You're stapled on my wishful thoughts
Etched gravely with iron-wrought.
A fork stuck in the path I tread
I could have never understood, nor judged, nor expected.
Still I endure, but severely loath
And wrote another sad senseless ode.
poem by Norman Santos
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Still I Walk
I walk this road alone, I fear
Route unknown but my end is clear
Still I walk with determined stride
No place to rest, no stars to guide
Another fork, more twists and turns
Each fork a test and lessons learned
Still I walk, thru sheer strength and will
Though my journey lies all uphill
How queer it is, this path I take
My shoes are worn, my feet do ache
Still I walk with unchanging gait
To meet the end, we all call fate
We all share such similar paths
To all an end by nature's wrath
Still I walk with unyeilding grit
Hope guides me, never shall I quit
From start to finish, from womb to rest
Cherish the Journey, for we all are blessed
In Your Own Ways
You are smart in your own ways
you are lovely in your own ways
you are beautiful in your own ways
You smile in your own ways
So crazy in your own ways
The madness of your own ways
such mysterious in your own ways
Those eyes of your own ways
You inspire me in your own ways
You talk in you own ways
you love me in your own ways
You suprise me in your own ways
Your kindness of its own kind
Your love of its own loveliness
your touch of its own comfort
And your kisses of its own sweetness
There is nothing so much worth to
treasure in my own ways than the
sweet memories of your own ways
Your life in your own ways
changes mine in its own way
God must have taken His own time
for sush a creation of its own kind
With everything in its own way
I must live your way.
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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Happy 2011
HAPPY 2011
H-ave
A
P-eaceful
P-rosperous
Y-ear
I trust that 2011 is going to be a year to remember
That from January to December
You are going to be blessed
That all will turn out for the best
You will win every test
Fix all that is messed
Restore broken relations
Have more patience
When times become tough
They will be overcome by love
You will give no place to fear
And 2011 will be an awesome year
Gods very best to you and your family for 2011
Love
Henry & Madalene 31 January 2011
Hebry Brown 31 January 2011
poem by Henry Brown
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The talk
There was a dialogue between two drunken men;
Look! It’s not my fork!
How can I eat this pork?
The glass is also not mine.
How can I dine?
The answer was:
You are a fool!
The fork is not the main tool.
Eat with the help of your hands,
Just as the flans.
Eat and drink!
Don’t be a fink!
The food and drinks are yours,
That is what everyone adores.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Mysticism.
Uri Geller
bend me a fork
so’s I may
eat round corners.
For I will meet
On the corner of the street
A comely maid
With dainty feet
And midnight eyes
And raven hair
And if without a glance
She will by me pass
I’ll cry aloud
Alack!
Alas!
And without turning
the corner I
could fork her
in the ass.
poem by Frederick Boslough
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Tossing Obstacles
Tested will be a heart devoted.
And sacrifices,
Performed as they are...
Seem to never end.
One determined with motivation,
Is confronted by conflict and temptation.
And is seldom encouraged to reach untold goals.
The one who remains with focus on a path,
Is not without naysayers on the sidelines...
Tossing obstacles as they laugh.
But there is something about that old saying that goes...
'He who laughs last has the best laugh and knows.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh, my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways, And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low, I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not, And restless and lost on a road that I know.
quote by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Furze and Bracken
The furze and bracken
is browned and a little battered.
The Michaelmas daisies
and brambles shine in the September sun.
A Painted Lady slowly
opens and closes its wings.
Every moment
is a fork in the road
and every fork
is always the same,
the choice between right and wrong.
And wrong is always
arrogating to oneself
things which do not belong.
And right
is always
following the Light.
poem by Brian Taylor
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