It Is Like The Whole World is Opening Up Again
It is like
The whole world is opening up again
The birth of a grandchild
A grandfather is born too.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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My awareness
I know when the Taj Mahal was built.
When did my grandfather build my house?
I know when King Asoka was born.
When was my grandfather born?
I know the world history, not my family history.
21.10.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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A Grandchild Gives New Hope In Life
A GRANDCHILD GIVES NEW HOPE IN LIFE
A grandchild gives new hope in life
An old man plays and says nonsense
And is happy again-
A little smiling child
Who does not know or understand
Who cannot speak to me
Gives me hope again
And makes me forget
All my failed ambitions-
Because this small child lives
I regain my love of life-
What a blessing to be
A grandfather in my old age.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Birth Energy
I am opening
I am opening up
Birth energy
Be my teacher
Birth energy
Heal my fears
Teach me trust
Teach me compassion
Walk me into the darkness
And into your light
Birth energy
You are woman
Birth energy
Within the man
Ever constant
Ever changing
Let your winds blow
Rock me in your storm
Let the bough break
Let me fall
Into your arms
It is you I trust
When I say
Im trusting love
Invocation:
I stand among the sisters of the moon
I am held by the creator of the world
I am opening
I am unbounded
I am luminous
I am powerful
I surrender to this power
Life and newness are continued and
Renewed through me
You are the ocean
I ride upon your waves
I am opening
I am blown apart by your caress
I surrender to you
I embrace you
I am ready now to sing the moon
To be her voice
I am the singer
And life is her song
I sing creation
I sing joy and pain
Beginning and ending
Giving and taking
Existence
Goddess
I embrace you
I am opening
I am opening up
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theres A New World Just Opening For Me
Now I know just what Ive been doing wrong,
Life seems empty, but it wont last for long.
I shant go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Been alive, but it could be lying down. [? ]
Just cant tell when the devils on the prowl.
I cant pretend no more.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
Win the battle, but the victory brings you pain.
You make confessions, but you do the same again.
I wont go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
I wont go on this way.
Theres a new world just opening for me.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Womb to womb to tomb
I am born unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before I take birth once again unto another womb
Then as mark of respect
A tomb shall man place on that womb
To remind the world
That this day a man
Was, born unto this womb.
Before another birth I seek
To live another life in another womb
In the seas of life I shall swim
Before I am once again ready
To take birth unto this womb
To be born again unto another womb
Before, I take birth once again to be entombed.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 290108.
poem by cyclopseven Ram
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Buddhist Lesson # 2
enlightment,
the act of opening,
like a rosebud,
like a mother,
opening the door...
like a child
opening a present,
like a woman
opening to a man....
opening...
all the hidden chambers,
every door to every
secret kingdom of the soul.....
opening the box that holds
your secret thoughts, desires....
opening...
the door of the cage,
letting the winged breath fly....
opening....
your heart to itself,
and to all hearts beating....
opening....
the vault of conceptions,
the entrance to the tomb
of past lives and memories....
opening...
your hands to the world
as if it were your neighbor,
and you, it's home!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Born But a Little Child
He who spoke the world into creation
He was born but a little child
With love so meek and mild
His birth brought the world a new elation
Was born to die to save all the nations
He was born but a little child
With a precious glowing smile
Was to become the church’s foundation
He was born but a little child
To reclaim the fallen world for His own
He was born but a little child
He came that true love, through Him, could be known
He was born but a little child
To take on our sins, and for them atone
((May 31st,2003))
poem by Danny Speicher
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The Happier Blessings
The Happier Blessings
The world has had
So much darkness lately
But now with the birth
Of another step-grandchild
Light.
Oh God Who gives
And takes so much,
Let us have more
Of the happier blessings.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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I see the player piano as the grandfather of the computer, the ancestor of the entire nightmare we live in, the birth of the binary world where there is no option other than yes or no and where there is no refuge.
quote by William Gaddis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As a father and grandfather, I have witnessed firsthand the joy of new life entering the world. I know the pain and apprehension that goes along with premature births and birth defects.
quote by Solomon Ortiz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mean Hunter
my grandfather still bend in his mattress
when we wake up
we as his grandchilds
have to leave the job
because with the job
live to become more having a meaning
my grandfather remain
to do not want to wake up
when evening
when we come home the
grandfather gived a smile and enquire to us
Have you grasp that meaning
we at a time reply
not yet
grandfather kept quiet, but at his hearts
remain to hunt the meaning
what he not yet earn also
by himself, in the corner of silent
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Born
He did his schooling
When I was not even
Born.
He passed his graduation
When I was just born!
He came to this world
Much before I was born.
Yet when he writes,
Every poesy of his
Smiles with the innocence
Of a new-born!
With every poetry,
He dons a new birth
And exudes the freshness
Of a baby born!
It's true
Mental age
Has nothing to do
With chronological age.
Physically,
He may be
Old and fragile.
But mentally,
He's strong and agile.
Mind in action like
The stormy gale -
Raining poems on us
Like sleet and hail...! !
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Grandfather, Grandfather
Grandfather, Grandfather,
what do pandas say?
Grandfather, Grandfather,
as among the rocks they roll
and rather sadly play
a game that seems
to do with dreams
of places far away.
Grandfather, Grandfather,
what do pandas say?
Grand-daughter, Grand-daughter,
when the pandas play
rather sadly in the rocks
this is what they say
to one another as they seem
to remember in a dream
those places far away:
'Let us tell no one
the word that we say
softly to one another
as we roll and play.
For if they ever heard it,
the tall two-legged Understanders
who always want to know what pandas
like us love to say,
yes, if they ever heard it
they would take it away.'
poem by George Barker
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If You Only Knew
By my grandfather's bed, my mother is reading,
Psalm 62, God is our refuge,
My grandfather stirs, could it be,
he is waking, one final time,
he has something to say,
If you only knew what lies awaiting
If you could only see what I can see
If you could only hear the music playing
The angels singing sweet victory
Oh, if you only knew, if you only knew,
How much he loves you
By my grandfather's bed, my mother is broken,
Psalm 17, O God I call on you,
She doesn't want to hear
Any words about leaving
My grandfather says
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your child your pride, Your grandchild your guide
True
Our children are our pride
They give you
Immense pleasure
With their glowing innocence
And
Such newly discovered expressions
Which you have not experienced earlier
Their growth
Is always showering on you
A sense of satisfaction
Their intelligence
Is always rated by you
To be much higher than
What you possesed in your childhood
Their observations are
Special to you
And you waste not time
In executing corrective or preventive actions
To satisfy their needs
And you do that all with great pleasure
There comes a gap
As they mature
And you are relieved to see
A new childhood again
When your grandchild comes in your life
You see a still higher degree
Of innocence
And intelligence in this generation
You feel your grandchild
Has much greater potential
To achieve than
Your own child, leave alone
The very your own self
As you have gained
Some more maturity
Than what you had when you reared your child
And have crossed
Hurdles with deeper troubles
Your association with the new arrival
Gives you more pleasure
Than what you had with your child
Not only that
With a renewed syllabus
In the study of life
Your grandchild looks a professor to you
Had you seen a teacher in your child
Your grandchild guides you
Through a research project
On this subject
And confers on you a doctorate
Or rejects
Based on your self searching skills
And learning abilities
Your child your pride
Your grandchild your guide
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Indus
The Indus valley has born forth a child,
So it was pronounced
When my mother was born.
Her hair is like liquid India ink.
Her eyes are black opals.
She is a tigress,
And a peacock.
She was an enchantress from birth.
Born from Kings
To bear future Kings.
She
is forever the epitome of royalty.
After she matured
Legends of her beauty
Were famous in far reaches of the world.
The rich enchantress,
A budding promise of everything.
The stupid child
Left her innocent door open.
To the one entity who
Snuck into the castle,
Robbed her and raped her,
Left her with no pride, humanity, or dignity.
The result of the assault
She bore two sons.
They came into the world
Bringing forth a river of destruction colored red with blood.
Having their father's black soul
They grew up to sell their mother
Into prostitution.
And, from that day on
She only bore daughters.
These little sisters
Were abused and
Used by their brothers
And could only become
What was their reality.
Never did they know
Their true potential.
Never did they feel
Pride, Joy, love, humanity, or humility.
My mother is dying
My brothers kill each other every day.
My mother is dying
My sisters are surviving the only reality
They know.
My Heritage, my grandfather,
My brothers have killed.
And, now they want to
Erase my memory.
The Indus valley had born forth a child.
She is dead,
So, we are all dying
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Elena (Twice Raped)
Born 1830 'Elena De Magdalena' in Mexico
Was kidnapped by Comanches at age nine or ten
At 13 she married a war chief named Ebi Pui
She was seen by Comanchero traders now n' then
At age 18 Elena was rescued by Mexican soldiers
Who had surprised her captors one early morn
She was taken back to her Mexican family
Where she was met with disdain n' with scorn
'Why did you not fight them or kill yourself'
Elena's grandfather said in a loud cry
She answered;
'Grandfather sometimes it takes,
More courage to live than to die'
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Happy b day
Happy birthday Triauna
Today is a great day
The day my girl was born
Monumental occasion
Sound the horn
New born child cute as a button
Dem other babies culdnt say nuffin Literally the truth is all I say
Throughout the years
You made each and every day
Thats just who you are and how you roll Always warm heart never cold
As you open your gifts
Just remember this
Your birth day only comes once a year Every day feel like my birth day because I know you here
The gift you give is priceless
Yet every day the value increases
Second most important born right after Jesus
Brings me back to my thesis
Happy birth day Triauna
poem by Martin McCollugh
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Death and Birth
Death leads to birth rather than birth, to death.
Birth is close to death and not vice versa.
Every birth is at the result of a death.
Death to birth, not birth to death, is the path.
The death of clay is the birth of a pot;
The death of the pot is the birth of clay.
Ice melts to water and water forms ice.
In each conversion, occur death and birth.
The death of a night is the birth of a day;
The death of a day is the birth of a night.
New Year means the death of the old year too.
In each transition, takes place death and birth.
The death of a seed is the birth of a plant;
The death of gametes is the birth of an embryo.
Salts die to form cells; cells die to form salts.
In each growth, form death and birth of matter.
The so called death and birth is nothing but
Deaths and births of forms made of matter.
The matter itself does not die to be born
But is converted to different forms.
Elements disappear to form plants.
Plants as food add to the animals’ flesh.
Plants and animals on death liberate
As elements, serving through worms and germs.
When a child is born, there’s no birth of life.
The embryo transforms into a child.
When a man dies, there is no death of life.
The body disintegrates to salts.
Matter, energy and life have no death
They have got one birth since when they’ve been.
They interact and come different stages
In which the pattern is death and birth.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Jesse James
(neil morris)
I'll tell you about jesse and frank james
My grandfather was personally acquainted with them
My grandfather lived in the southern edge of baxter county, arkansas
And they stayed all night with him lots of nights
And my grandfather told me there was a lot of those robberies that was layed to jesse and frank james
And he knew they didn't do it 'cause they was at his place when it happened
But you couldn't tell the public that
When they get their minds made up that somebody's done something
Why the public's gonna stick to it anyway
My grandfather, he knew them as boys
And they could come to his place and go without anybody paying attention 'cause nobody expected them
Down in arkansas, see, 'cause they was from missouri
Now that's the story that my grandfather told me when i was just a boy
And he said that frank james, at that world's fair,
I think it was 1901 in st. louis him and jesse were both there
My grandfather and frank james were together there
And that frank james offered to bring jesse there alive
He said that the man that the ford boys killed wasn't jesse james at all
But the fellow they killed was just about the size of jesse and he was red headed
And he wasn't any relation to the fords
See, jesse james was a known cousin to charles and bob ford
That's what my grandfather said
He said jesse and frank were not even in that part of the country when that fellow was killed
And the ford boys, why, they collected a thousand dollars for killing jesse james!
Now the song says that the ford boys killed jesse
None of us up here in the mountains believe that, no sir!
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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