Restrict the wants to things in hand
The milk that is not full in a vessel
Can be full in an exact vessel
And even spill over from a smaller one.
Your want is the vessel and things, the milk.
25.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Vessel That I am!
I am a weak vessel.
Strengthen me, O Lord!
Help me fill up to the brim
With virtues of all sorts.
I am a small vessel.
Make me hold more, O Lord!
Take away my porosity;
Let things remain intact.
I am a clay vessel.
Polish my sides, O Lord!
Let me stand most splendidly,
Glorifying my God.
I am a mere vessel,
Distorted somewhat, O Lord!
Place me on a rocky base,
To show the world my class!
The vessel whatever that I am
Will serve Thee only, Lord.
Fill me up with thy grace, O God
To prove that I’m fine clod!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-1-2009
poem by John Celes
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Within this Earthen Vessel
WITHIN this earthen vessel are bowers and groves,
and within it is the Creator:
Within this vessel are the seven oceans
and the unnumbered stars.
The touchstone and the jewel-appraiser are within;
and within this vessel the Eternal soundeth,
and the spring wells up.
Kabîr says:
'Listen to me, my Friend!
My beloved Lord is within.'
The World Is A Sacred Vessel
'The world is a sacred vessel...' Thomas Merton
blue vessel
in black vacuum
miracle world
encircling
thrall of this perfect star
sacred vessel,
His living cup
to beloved proffered,
wedding gift
beyond measure.
poem by Steven Federle
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The prostitute is not vulnerable
A prostitute and a virgin,
Let them take sanyasin,
Who will come out without stains?
With unspent libido in smoulder,
It is nun who commits sin.
An empty vessel does not leak.
A prostitute is a spent force.
14.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Vessel
The Vessel was a thing of clay.
the sort you use, then throw away.
It was worth little, of itself,
but that vessel was filled with Love.
It poured out Love upon the Living
Free and selfless was its giving.
When at last the clay was dry,
it was the vessels time to die.
It shattered on the sands of time,
now half a lifetime gone from mine.
The vessel was my Dad you see-
and by his gifts I was set free.
I wept the day he met his end-
will I ever see his like again?
God willing on a higher plane
I'll get to call again his name.,
but if my journey ends in dust,
he taught me how as all men must.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The yin yang moon
Hung upon the sky
Weaves the web of stars
Down the water glide
A half created vessel I am - they say
Measuring sand in my body grain
Flat forehead upward hope sunk unsung
I’ll starve my eyes on Milky waves
Glaring at those lines divine
No I will not be a half created vessel
Lying under the bags of clouds
No I will not be a half created vessel
I’ll be a mermaid of the sky
Embedding the last floating cry
Inspired by ‘Hombre Ante el Infinito’ (Man Contemplating Infinity)
a painting by Rufino Tamayo
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Our passions are the winds that propel our vessel. Our reason is the pilot that steers her. Without winds the vessel would not move and without a pilot she would be lost.
He is most likely to spill who holds the vessel in his hand.
Ants go round and round
Ghee in a vessel,
Ants go round and round
Around the vessel
Knowing pretty well
These cannot taste and eat
The ghee!
Similarly,
The innocent people
Make wasteful efforts
To get benefits
From rich persons
Who never help others
From their amassed wealth!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Hystrion mute dressed in metaphors
transferred the silences
raft across the rivers
kept rowing with bare hands
downfall water foam
upstream strong strokes
in vessel stolen hearts
lotus like ripples
tears full of cheeks
hands full of slaps
lips full of hope
took it all over
over and over again
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Bit News
Donkey milk
Is...
Good for health...
This thinking for
South indian poeple's...
So...
New born baby
Given for donkey's milk...
I also drink for
Donkey milk at childhood...
My gran mother told for me...!
Donkey milk is for
Only at donkey...
But...
People idea is...
Donkey's milk is how is
Help full for human health...?
I don't no...!
Miss or mrs univers
Celeo patra also
Take bath for
Donkey's milk...
For his beauty...
It history bit news
How much true
I don't no...!
You know...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Unfill The Vessel To Again Fill
Tiny tale for a sale.
People from sands to vale.
Joy of praise to cheers.
A way from cut to sheers.
Jack beside Jill, to the hill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Shiny white snow and blue sky.
Clouds over the hill they fly.
Sounds of roar still we dare.
Prize of present got to share.
Counted already million still its nill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
Warm of sun, Shades of the dark.
Rest on woods, Expectant on the park.
Worlds got lot of adversary and misery.
Rest of peace is core and treasury.
Still travel till you find it until.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.
poem by Diplove gautam
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To go to the world below, having a soul which is like a vessel full of injustice, is the last and worst of all the evils.
Hello Silver Friend
A knife is a nonjudgmental friend.
A friend that I could always turn to in need.
Its welcoming shine, its sharp edge teases me, begs me
It whines begging on its handle 'Use me! Use me! I can take all your pain away! '
'I don't judge you; you can be yourself around me always.'
I want to succumb and allow my over welling emotions to pour out of me
I want to rid myself of this intense gilt, sadness, anger, worthlessness
Watch with childlike glee as my pain drips down my skin
What is skin really?
An immense vessel holding all our emotions and organs.
Sometimes the vessel needs to be punctured to release negative moods
Negative moods that push up against the vessel straining to escape
Hello silver friend it's nice to see you again.
yours truly,
A worthless not mention failure of a daughter
poem by Francesca Marie
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Still in Search
Returning
to the well
searching
for substance.
This vessel is
half full,
another day
passes,
still in
search.
poem by Heather Burns
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The Law.....
the law is the mold
where we are supposed to take shape
as though we are water or air
and it is the vessel, and
the vessel after we have been shaped
to its likeness
from its mouth tries to tell the world
that here we are
happily married to the prescribed form
all, uniform, all so cruelly shaped
to the likeness of everyone
and those who complained about the pain
is met by the adage at the gate
dura lex, sed lex
dura lex, sed lex.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: A Pot of Special Clay
The Potter chose to make a pot of clay,
And used some special earth to mould its frame,
That turned to be a vessel, which one day,
Became so holy, bringing Him, great name!
God filled the vessel with His divine grace,
And placed it on His sacred altar, when
The vessel glowed with beauty, worth much praise:
And quenched were souls, who drank from it often!
And when the pot had done its job on earth,
It cracked one day when old, and turned to dust:
But looked much finer than ev’n gold, at birth;
For, it had held the blood of Jesus Christ!
By fulfilling His Maker’s ardent aim,
The pot had turned to dust, from whence it came!
Fondly dedicated to a deceased ‘Man of God’,
Brother Dr. DGS Dhinakaran,
JESUS CALLS MINISTRY, TN, India
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-22-2008
poem by John Celes
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In My Silence I Am Breaking
i am an empty vessel
why not fill me up a little
with your cool water
it will really matter
i am an empty vessel
for a long time now
wanting to be contained
in your fullness
you may please
fill me up to my brim
if it is possible with you
fill me with your cool waters
let me overflow
with your love
and understanding
in my emptiness
i am howling
in my silence
i am breaking
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Landscape 28 Meniscus
The molecules of water are held together
By weak electrical forces
That extend in all directions.
At the water surface, the upward forces,
Having nowhere watery to go,
Lie along the surface
To form a thin skin, called a meniscus.
This is the skin that holds water drops,
Supports water striders,
Even skips stones.
I came once to an Adirondack Lake
On a still moonlit night.
The lake seemed full of fireflies,
Flashes of light in the water
As far as the eye could see.
I finally discovered the source of the light,
The sudden movements of water striders
Riding the meniscus
Bent the water surface
Into a curved mirror
That reflected glimmers of moonlight.
The Japanese make a flower arrangement
In a vessel with a perfectly level rim.
The vessel is filled with water
To a level above the rim
The water is held from overflowing
By a curved meniscus
That bends light like a lens.
In the center of the water
Floats a single perfect flower
That sends tiny ripples across the water surface
And crinkles the meniscus
When the vessel is vibrated.
poem by Stewart McKenzie
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