Lifting
Again the panic grips.
Clones from the frozen cells of rot-scented
rafflesia growing in abundance.
Huge pitchers are swarming the landscape.
You walk into the trap.
The lid falls, blocks the way out
and sharp spikes pierce through you,
so suddenly that you cannot even cry.
The white darkness of the gray ash
is covering the limbs of history.
I am the past, I am the future.
Where do I enter the present?
At threshold they lift their arms.
Neither in-nor-out.
Begging to walls to close in
and let the roofs fall down.
poem by Satish Verma
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Related quotes
Dweller On The Threshold
Im a dweller on the threshold
And Im waiting at the door
And Im standing in the darkness
I dont want to wait no more
I have seen without perceiving
I have been another man
Let me pierce the realm of glamour
So I know just what I am
Im a dweller on the threshold
And Im waiting at the door
And Im standing in the darkness
I dont want to wait no more
Feel the angel of the present
In the mighty crystal fire
Lift me up consume my darkness
Let me travel even higher
Im a dweller on the threshold
As I cross the burning ground
Let me go down to the water
Watch the great illusion drown
Im a dweller on the threshold
And Im waiting at the door
And Im standing in the darkness
I dont want to wait no more
Im gonna turn and face the music
The music of the spheres
Lift me up consume my darkness
When the midnight disappears
I will walk out of the darkness
And Ill walk into the light
And Ill sing the song of ages
And the dawn will end the night
Im a dweller on the threshold
And Im waiting at the door
And Im standing in the darkness
I dont want to wait no more
Im a dweller on the threshold
And I cross some burning ground
And Ill go down to the water
Let the great illusion drown
Im a dweller on the threshold
And Im waiting at the door
And Im standing in the darkness
I dont want to wait no more
Im a dweller on the threshold
Dweller on the threshold
Im a dweller on the threshold
Im a dweller on the threshold
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wintermoon
Under stars,
under sky,
I will walk,
my path and fate.
Wathing the moon,
the ghostly light,
enchanted by its beauty.
I will walk forever on,
knowing that past is past,
and future is future.
Life is only lived in the present.
I will walk,
in winter, spring, summer and autumm,
watching the moon,
enchanted by its beauty.
I walk down the path of spring,
knowing my fate awaits,
I'm walking the path of life.
I walk the path of summer,
looking at the sun,
warmed by the sun,
I'm alive and growing,
nature is part of me.
I walk the path of autumm,
seeing the prey of death,
beautiful coulours of the fiery soul,
striving to live once again.
Once future, now the base of knowledge,
THE future.
I walk down the path of winter,
looking at the wintersky,
bewitched by the wintermoon,
so clean,
so beautiful,
and yet so cold.
I will live in the present,
walking towards the future,
while this life of mine is build upon the past.
The past is me,
I'm the past, the present and the future.
Dimension Merge
For us the past has gone and the present moves on
into the yesterday of a future’s present time.
Despite living in the future’s past this will not last,
present and future will very soon combine.
Future or dimension, to some a misapprehension,
but they are one in the same.
If there’s more than one, they will follow on
to leave one, with it’s present name.
On merging we’ll realise we’ve no future to recognise,
and the past and present is all we’ll know.
The past will still be renewed, with each day used,
but the future will mean only tomorrow.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Your Ascent
How many times you’ve fallen means nothing.
It’s how many times you got up that make the difference.
Your climb toward life’s summit will suffer falls if you’ve charted a high enough course.
Each fall only makes your ascent sweeter if you arise wiser and continue.
Plan your next step rather than fearing your next fall.
If you start with fear, you have already fallen even before taking your next step.
During your ascent, you will rise and fall like the sea.
As the falls rise take care; as the rises fall take heart.
Beware of a slide masquerading as smooth ride.
As the tempo quickens, remember a fall is fast, an ascent slow.
Look ahead with your eyes and behind with your memory.
While ascending don’t let your vision be blurred by your memory.
Remember the past only as it can relate to your present and future.
The past without reference is nothing, but the past with only remorse is worse than nothing.
See the present for what it is rather than should have been.
Live the present before it is the past while planning for the future before it is the present.
During your ascent think quickly, but deliberately.
What you have put behind will gain on you if you don’t keep moving ahead.
Keep your mind on the summit, your eyes on the ascent and your foot on the very next step.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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Joy In The Present
I never want to go back
Dwell in the past no more
Another has come I would rather cherish it
I love who I am now
There is no glory in my history
Full of misery
It’s a new dawn
Though my heart trembles with fear
Some great touch of he who is above
Do not panic
I will dread not
I will fear not
He is with me, he’s on the throne
The one who truly loves me
Accepts my past
Joy of the present
History shredded no agony of the trials of the past
Joy of the present with you
poem by Chanda Lena Mondoka
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Fangs
Crossing the hate walls,
turning up the severed moon in stunning
landscape, you scatter the rose petals on ice.
One day I will find your frozen footsteps
of self-denial.
Now he has made the lines of stem cells free
for nymphs. Double helix will make the new Barbie dolls.
The cruel thing builds the dredged gravel difficult
to swallow on a price. I don’t have bricks to
make a house of love.
His picture now hangs in the street. The
white smile no longer sails to wrestle with sun.
Stark naked, my luck now grips the black rock
of golden sleep. I will come back with
new moonrise.
poem by Satish Verma
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Sandstorm in Iraq
The wind is covering everything,
covering with red-brown dust,
burying the present, the past
with a future in which peace
cannot last
and man holds destiny by the throat,
tries to change the present, the future
at a very great cost
and the lost of life is everywhere
with innocent women and children
here and there being shot, killed
by dropping bombs
and US-troops and their allies roll in
with tanks and armoured cars,
fly past in gunships, bombers and fighter jets
in skies red with blood
trying to teach democracy
by the barrel of a gun
and of all of this
the wind doesn’t know
and it continues to blow.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Nightmare in Oak Street
The town clock strikes twelve
In dim bedroom sleepy mind does delve
A haunting face beckoning, scars sinned
Her hair blowing in the wind
Dark inside the enchanting mirror deep
Past life breaks the glass blood begins to seep
Fire in green eyes forked tongue grips my lips
Feet begin to melt, courage leaves and dips
The siren drifts around my head, arms, and mind
Screams and screams for sanity to find
Drained face, spine chilled bloodless white
Fear grips throat in silent night
A blinding glint from flashing steel
Ferocious howls am I her sexual meal
I push away hands go thru bones- o m g
From the mirror more dancing clones
Rivers of sweat, moaning, teeth clatter
Bones close in as they eyeless chatter
Claws push hard into frozen cheeks
Tongue rough licks like the dreaded geeks
I awake into the face of my hound and ‘shout
“Who let the dog out, who let the dog out “
Thank god mans best friend really does care
He knew I was only having an awful nightmare”
poem by Ken e Hall
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Close Your Eyes
I am walking the streets at night,
bathing myself in the moonlight,
watching others go about their business,
so many people living in the darkness,
but this is not a dark and colourless land,
for you must try and understand,
that here your thoughts are divine,
as every moment is frozen in time.
Close your eyes, forget your name,
for in darkness we’re all the same.
Close your eyes, then lose yourself,
for you’re the same as anyone else.
Close your eyes, release your past,
for the future is the one and only task.
Close your eyes, follow your soul,
as it will make you complete and whole.
I am lying awake in my bed,
thinking about what people have said,
words spoken in times of madness,
and held in anger and bitterness,
looking out of my bedroom window,
in to the darkness and the shadow,
seeing the mysterious world outside,
where normal people do not hide.
Close your eyes, untangle your heart,
so your emotions can just fall apart.
Close your eyes, lay yourself bare,
find the beauty to make everyone stare.
Close your eyes, fight your fear,
for everyone is safe in here.
Close your eyes, dream your reality,
then you’ll know what you could be.
poem by Dale Mullock
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The Witch
I HAVE walked a great while over the snow,
And I am not tall nor strong.
My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,
And the way was hard and long.
I have wandered over the fruitful earth,
But I never came here before.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!
The cutting wind is a cruel foe.
I dare not stand in the blast.
My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,
And the worst of death is past.
I am but a little maiden still,
My little white feet are sore.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!
Her voice was the voice that women have,
Who plead for their heart's desire.
She came--she came--and the quivering flame
Sunk and died in the fire.
It never was lit again on my hearth
Since I hurried across the floor,
To lift her over the threshold, and let her in at the door.
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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Swinging....
I did not will them
dreams of crystals
a stupid calendar of flight
from insomnic past.
Do not want to return to future,
hub of my clouds.
History had been writhing and screaming.
Present cannot redeem my woes.
I ask my bleak, frosted branches
where the birds have gone?
The songs, green hills, divine particles?
When they will enter in frozen affairs?
Anti-matter is now colliding with black energy
I am faltering a rhythm.
helplessly watch a xenomorphic face
disappearing in the blue sky.
poem by Satish Verma
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Walk With My Spirit
In a hotel room watching the white snow fall
Glistening past with beckoning mossy leaves,
Drape with beauty outside upon the wall
Silent ice in the night hung from the trees.
In the gentle night I took a walk with my spirit,
Snow caught my eyes fluttering with little wings,
They try to fly flapping with all their might,
But end up covering the street and soak clothes.
Cold sober response shook the worn knees,
And my tearing teeth broke lamentable silence,
A smitten figure misplace in night ease,
Try to walk outside upon snows frozen ice.
My limbs dug tunnels and tried to hold me tight,
But the ground took my stride to skip and dance,
I walk the path where the street had gone,
For once in my life I felt carried by a spirit.
Along the path set for me with beaten snow,
I started to float and struggle to find a way home,
I should have sunk deep in sleep by now,
Instead, plague with regret; I am out on my own.
I went where footsteps lost their charms,
The softer images in mind losing the fight,
Trying to stay alive swaying with my hips and arms,
The images weren't meant to last through the night.
poem by Gerry Legister
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Too many pitchers, that's all, there are just too many pitchers Ten or twelve on a team. Don't see how any of them get enough work. Four starting pitchers and one relief man ought to be enough. Pitch 'em every three days and you'd find they'd get control and good, strong arms.
Past paved way for the future
Past paved way
For the present
Shall become past
To pave way for future
The cycle never stops
Present always
Compared to past
A better future
Wished by all
What will come?
Nobody knows
Hope and desire
Never ends
Brings light in eyes
And smile on face
Light or darkness?
Is a question
Answer to which
Nobody knows
One thing is certain
If one lives
Shall become old
Perish with time
Become memory
Of the past
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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A glorious past
Past is always glorious
by that only you have become known or famous
that must remain on or continuous
the reason may be many or various
you can't go by the past
though it might have ended fast
the present may still be eluded
if past is not at all included
you love the present and think of future
the thing which is not there for sure
Think of the past with little from present
you won't feel future too absent
don't read much about anything
you will have to prove for everything
you can't trust the present trend
you may plan accordingly with some mends
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Present
Bury the Past
Forget the Future
Think about the Present
Be alert and cautious in the present
Do not regret about the past
Or worry about the future
Past is gone
Future is unknown
Present is what you have today
So utilise it to the fullest extent
Its your life's biggest asset
That will fetch you great dividends
Realize that this is a gift given to you by God
That's why it is called as "PRESENT"
poem by Kavita Iyer
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