A Voice Apart
I remember! What do I remember?
Read my words. Read. Work it out.
What am I? What am I incarnate?
A man. A man who cannot die.
Who can know what I am?
I cannot die. I live to witness errant life.
To reveal erroneous
world in words eternal.
To write repentance
into serpent heartless men.
Bound by God
to live out tribute
sentenced allotted years.
Bound by God
to fulfill prime
promise seeding past years.
Bound to write
an enlightening awareness
into dawning awakening
foretelling an exalted new age.
Foretelling an expanded
biologically cognitive
“... evolutionary leap forward,
with humanity
poised within a new age...
A rising again,
an expanded consciousness,
a future state.” (64-66) .
Quotation adapted from ‘Visions From A Dream State’, by Terence George Craddock, written in March 1982.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Many Can Teach Few Can Write
many can teach and be good teachers
some even aspiring excellent teachers
but few can image write wondrous words
who are now waiting among
those who have words worth writing
words waiting to be written?
writing will cost much
demanded much
then will cost yet more
a small fortune in wages
wages spent not made
still to be spent and yet
accumulative cost is nothing
for there are hunger hearts
minds waiting for these words
looking even searching
for quest sought words
therefore it matters not
if for a specific poem
or passage paragraph
only a few or one is searching
these thoughts
are important
still must be written
some of what we write
even much of what we write
is of no prime importance
but that small portion
which is important
that tiny potent seed
which is important
must be written
translate many can translate
some even translate
almost perfectly precise
but those writing
original thoughts
are far more precious
and their words
will also in their time
be sought after read
but there time is not yet
that which is not
written cannot
be read
therefore write
write
and write well
poem by Terence George Craddock
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An Evolutionary Leap
An evolutionary leap
in life consciousness.
Born in pulse present lives
contemporary consciousness;
are apparently normal at surface appearance
radiant destined human beings;
developing transcendental paranormal capacities
as God sourced energy connections;
as part of an “Incarnated in the earth’s vibrations”
accelerated evolutionary vibration rate.
As a more purified
spiritual frequency
crossing the biological barrier
between this husk life
and states of vibrational existence
preceding birth
states of illuminated existence
ascending death.
As part of an incarnated accelerated
bridge to future potential
raising vibrations, reaching ultimately,
heaven immanent on earth.
Crossing the curtained barrier
between this learning life
and the world we were born
to aspire ascend to.
Released from modern disbelief
in imminent human transcendence
transforming psychosocial characteristics.
Released from chained dominated insecurity
arising from physical exploitation aspects
inducing perceived threatening life.
“Ignorance and lust are crippling chains
that need not be.”
Released from flesh soul tormented
fear incumbent upon incapacitated many
“trapped within [... this] physical density” life.
“Infinity pauses, momentarily, passes”.
Release fear spectres hunger, scarcity, impotency.
Release insecure need to control, manipulate, dominate.
Dissipate anger, greed, hate, envy and bitterness.
Even now “humility and love
hold haloed key.”
Through restorative healing love
“links are cut an individual rises free.”
Born in present lives and consciousness
are apparently normal human beings
developing transcendental capacities
as part of an angelic sustained accelerated
bridge to a transformational future diversity;
raising vibrations, reaching heaven on earth
crossing the barrier between this evolving life;
and the world we were born to aspire to.
Nirvana attained perfect peace respecting life.
Nirvana embraces the one life all life
as sacred. Respecting all life as sacred.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
*Quotations are from two poems by Terence George Craddock published in Lemmings Into The Sea, in 1991. The first quotation is from “Visions From A Dream State” written in March 1982. All other quotations are from “Perspective Stand” written in April 1982.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Chosen To Change
I may be psychic.
I may foretell the future.
But the only future I write.
Is with a ballpoint pen.
This future references
future human society.
Therefore it is not applicable
to two lives we ourselves.
Though on a scale
of minimal importance. Dominance.
Visions of artistic output
claim precedence. Intrinsically inscribe.
A prophet is born
to fulfill a specific life.
A preordained energy
and incarnate message.
Is radiated into the beautification
infusing sacred eternal life itself.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Today A Breath Of Fresh Air
week bound
house bound
office bound
time bound
i need to take my wife
and two daughters out
today they each
need to enjoy life
to have weekend
welcome
today a breath
of fresh air
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Visions From A Dream State
The day is done, the hour is late,
as I lie down at last to rest.
Tranquility is all I seek this night,
an interval of silence exertion free;
sleep I crave, disturbance stilled,
peace of mind sanity decrees.
The world is quiet, the people rest,
I lie alone, motionless, and hear
the distant murmur of a soundless night.
Sleep’s gentle shroud encircles me
her magic bliss of drowsiness
descends as if a sweet caress.
The cool security of clean sheets
a delightful pleasure that comforts me
yet sleep itself eludes me still, fleetingly
like a butterfly, gliding on a gentle breeze.
Sleep, I seek it still, for within her care
is seclusion no man may break.
I reach out for it, for caressing sleep,
in faint gossamer hope she waits for me.
Meditative gift of solitude is mine at least
that suspends entirely all conscious thought.
In darkness, inky
my weary spirit breaks loose its bonds,
and slowly rises free,
from unfrequented reaches of my mind.
While swoon foggy cloud of weariness
that enfolds me, fades instantly,
leaving my skin tingling from dewy breath,
which soothed all bodily fatigue.
I finally drift into a trouble-free sleep, but soon,
regretfully, poetic thoughts impede my brief repose;
alas; abstract visions flood my sight.
Clouds float in space, icicle seeded rain,
parched sterile ground now water nourished,
a springing into life brought forth by rain.
Yet who planted ripe seed within my brain
that burst forth into such glorious blooms,
within fallow fertile gardens of my mind.
Was stagnation strangulating;
originally caused by evilness in man?
Or an outside force
humanity could not withstand?
Evil never furthers prime perseverance,
of atoned; superior redeemed man.
Now! Is time for opposing those who destroy,
but where are chosen guides,
who will astral spiritual leaders be?
Are they really absent,
or is it merely covetous blind
who cannot see?
Incarnated in earth’s vibrations
living normal lives,
breathing, waiting, to purify and prepare.
Yet are prophets prepared for existence,
for oppressive struggles on physical plane?
Life for them will surely be,
inevitable, a requisite of necessity.
Will they open up earth eyes,
and open up ominous sky,
to let pale planet shine through?
And can they finally bring into harmony,
and visionary understanding,
our so-called brotherhood of man?
Do solemn slowly
falling sands; signify;
an approaching end for man?
Or do omens foretell a great evolutionary
leap forward, with humanity;
poised within anew age?
A rising again, an expanded
consciousness, a future state.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Written in March 1982. Published in Lemmings Into The Sea in 1991.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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This Is Payment Price This Poet Pays
My friend is a salary man luckily gainfully employed
five days a week for eight hours a day he earns his pay.
I also for decades worked my days for weekly monthly pay.
I studied hard put in extra time to fully earn my worker pay,
years sped by I worked and worked to earn hard earned pay,
now for a time a time and a half I do not work this way.
I write I write each day by day or through long night.
I work far harder than I did employed in salary fight.
I live on savings hard earned to earn a right to write.
I charge not chance reader read or read not just as you like.
I work I sacrifice to give gift of love as free as stars above.
I give in time in thought in words in wisdom I give in love.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Secret Untold
I’ve got a secret.
A secret untold.
A secret I have never told anyone.
Do you want to hear my secret?
I’ve got a sacred dream.
A dream vision for sacred life.
I believe in happiness.
I believe happiness is the greatest gift.
The greatest gift anyone can bestow upon another.
I want to give the gift of happiness.
I want to give the gift of happiness to the destitute.
I want to bestow happiness upon suffering souls.
Upon all suffering souls, unhappy, alone, unloved.
I want to heal the world.
I want to heal future generations unborn.
I want to heal with healing words of love.
The word is my gift.
The written word can open windows into the mind.
The written word can heal with gifts of infused love.
With truth, love, wisdom, life lessons revealed.
Words may attain the power to reveal life.
Words may reveal images attesting life lessons.
Words may reveal values advancing visions yet unattained.
Words may reveal realities exalting in love peace harmony.
Love peace harmony for all sacred humanity.
For all sacred life is a reality humanity must treasure attain.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Alberta Bound
Oh the prairie lights are burnin bright
The chinook wind is a-movin in
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
Though Ive done the best I could
My old luck aint been so good and
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
No one-eyed man could eer forget
The rocky mountain sunset
Its a pleasure just to be alberta bound
I long to see my next of kin
To know what kind of shape theyre in
Tomorrow night Ill be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Oh the skyline of toronto
Is somethin youll get onto
But they say youve got to live there for a while
And if you got the money
You can get yourself a honey
A written guarantee ta make you smile
But its snowin in the city
And the streets and brown and gritty
And I know theres pretty girls all over town
But they never seem ta find me
And the one I left behind me
Is the reason that Ill be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Alberta bound, alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
Its good to be alberta bound
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Important Thoughts Must Be Written
that which is not
written cannot
be read
therefore write
write
and write well
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It's A Promise
When I get up in the morning and see first light
I remember it's a promise
When the sun begins to set with color
I remember it's a promise
When I stare up in the darkest night, and see brightest moonlight
I remember it's a promise
When a ray of light slices the clouds and it's pure
I remember it's a promise
When I see the majestic forest of green tree
I remember it's a promise
When I see the blue ocean
I remember it's a promise
When I see the sparkle of a star or the shining of the sun
I remember it's a promise
If I look into the stars and see a galaxy
I remember it's a promise
Somehow everything will be fine like the world around me
Because in everything there's a promise
And when a promise is bound by unfailing love
It can't be broken
That's a promise.
poem by David Knox
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Chosen To Change Prophecy Potentials
he may be psychic
he may foretell the future...
but the only future he writes
is with a quill and ink...
I may be psychic.
I may foretell the future.
But the only future I write.
Is with a ballpoint pen.
they may be psychic
they may foretell the future...
but their future write
is with a computer tablet...
this future references
future net human societies
therefore it is not applicable
to two lives we ourselves
if born in different places
if born in different times...
if born in different decades
if born in different centuries...
or is it soul purpose applicable
though on a set parallel scale
of timed minimal importance
dominance of earlier soul purpose
visions of artistic output
claim pressing precedence...
intrinsically eye inscribes
mind set sight shock waves...
a prophet
is born
to fulfill
a specific
life
a preordained...
energy
flesh incarnate...
message
is radiated
into beautification
infusing sacred
eternal
life strife...
itself
resolute...
in cycle
of lives
dances
prophecies
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Read Nothing Serious
fun poems always
usually easiest to write
but in my twenties
realized it was
all anyone most would
read nothing serious
political world
had issues
world kept
saying write
me write
me I thought...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)
I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Imagining You
I write these words for you
yes you
the one that I imagine
will follow after me,
one who fancies the written word
one who connects with history.
Our family eternal
ties us together
the circle of life
that is never quite complete
beginning, middle, end
we merge
though we will never meet.
A thrill to know
across the years
our lives will touch,
when you read these
words I write
know I send my love
and know that
as I sit here now...
imagining you
sitting there then imagining me
I picture you surrounded
by a bustling family
and I smile.
poem by Angela Michel
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Life Lesson
Listen to all
Listen to none
But remember this thing
You are the one who realize
Learn everything
Learn nothing
But remember this thing
You are the one who understand
Go everywhere
Go nowhere
But remember this thing
You are the one who search
Believe the hard one
Believe the easy one
But remember this thing
You are the one who follow
Think the worst
Think the finest
But remember this thing
You are the one who decide
Read what’s written
Read what’s hidden
But remember this thing
You are the one who feel
See the dark
See the light
But remember this thing
You are the one who watch
Dream the ordinary
Dream the impossible
But remember this thing
You are the one who hope
Try the best
Try the rest
But remember this thing
You are the one who fight
Say it straight
Say it carefully
But remember this thing
You are the one who mean it
Love you care
Love you don’t
But remember this thing
You are the one who give
Live the truth
Live the lie
But remember this thing
You are the one who grow
Do what you desire
Do what’s been ordered
But remember this thing
You are the one who responsible
Touch it rough
Touch it smooth
But remember this thing
You are the one who keep
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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Words
Yeats so simply stated
' Words alone are certain good. '
And to the great poet
So highly rated
I try to listen, as I should; Yet
Being an untrained novice
Such as me
With verdant hopes of much improvement
- oh that I would -
I beg to slightly differ with W. B.
And offer here my humble opinion
- if I could -
Good certainly is not words alone,
For without humanity
To read and to write
How would they ever become known?
- For without the good of people
Who of these words would care
Ever to be heard, or even shared?
No, the good does not alone from words arise,
Rather from human beings
Whose entire story
Such words do attempt to comprise.......
- Words written in this time
May even the way
To a distant future find,
But not on their own
And never alone.
For it takes people's
- hand's to write
- eye's to read
- heart and soul to understand
The purpose, and the need.
Let it here be shown
Words alone
Are not the only good,
They need human beings
To give goodness and life
To their reason and meaning
For they are merely the vehicle
By which man's true good
Is found and understood.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Ego Philosophers Cannot Believe In God
'why because flawed philosophers
cannot live outside inflated ego bubbles?
demand ego tribute worshippers'
philosophers create world ideologies
temples dedicated to own goal expectations?
ideology is a science of ideas thoughts
political ideologies
enacted dominant class society
are sets of received consciousness
product of state socializations
all members of a country society
are law bound expected to abide in
analysis of differing political opinions
analysis of differing views of social groups
analysis manipulated wins state elections
Karl Marx substituted ideology
for his coined term within
class struggle domination...
was is it a necessary part
of institutional functioning manipulated?
adjusted social integration?
ultimately will populations
swallow rhetoric drone feed submit
to social political conditioning ideologies?
worldview metaphysical propaganda loaded...
key role who renders unto Caesar tribute
who renders unto God what is God's?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Life Philosophy
a life philosophy
not a philosophy on life
a living philosophy
clear concise defined
articulated in civil rights liberty
clemency morality humanitarian symmetry
it is not important to memorize words
words thoughts searched out through years decades
words become life beat peace harmonies
not a manifesto
not written out
not important to memorize
to write out
to be distorted
to be used to manipulate minds
a manifesto not
written out not
important to memorize not
no a great life philosophy
is lived in simplicity acts of humility
freedom gifted to all humanity
love in life
love for all life one life
love sacred fertile compassion love life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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All But You
Millions of people pass by me
My heart wish to see only you
Thousands of eyes are set on me
My eyes match only you
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
What is the past incase it lasts
In the face of horrible holocaust
Cathedrals and churches
Old Oaks and Birches
All remind me of only you
When sweet was the life
And there was no strife
I thought of only you
Incarnations, rejuvenations
Amalgamation and resurrections
All these tell me
Only you are my combination
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Down the memory lane
Whenever I see a mane
I remember thy First
Incarnation of past
I remember the orchards
And I remember the old birds
In the mist till I see
You as ever forever
Sweetest dream came true the day
When I saw you in May
Both the magical ring
And you had to say:
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Don’t ask me what the rhyme is about
Don’t say and please don’t doubt
Whenever you will listen thy song
No matter wherever you belong
Will come to your cast
The beautiful life of past
Even If you and I can never meet
Even if you are lost in the world fleet
Just remember me and remember thy song
Sing this aloud and sing it along
Love knows no bound
Time is bonded
U and me forever
Its so profound to be fonded
U and me together
Forever together
ALWAYS
Counting time Forever! ! ! !
poem by Sudha Misra
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