The Edge of Circumference...
A land of Sublime Archons,
Where secrets of Royal Blood are withheld,
Let us know what are the truths,
Truths of creation, protection and destruction,
No! ! ! They answer,
They have that great fear,
The archbishops, the priests,
Are the fakes,
Or are the disloyal to the Almighty,
Who knows! ! !
Then why are the differences on the path of Illumination,
Dig out the archives and publicly display them,
This is like waling on the circumference of sanity,
So free masonries were perfect,
Anyways we should be simplified,
Break the shackles,
Glorify the archives,
And be savior of yourself...
poem by Vikrant Jog
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Related quotes
The Sad And Painful Truths.
most truths hurt.
they are not guests.
they stay permanently.
they have needles and threads and fingers.
they sew your lips.
there is blood in your hands.
you cannot complain.
no matter how you shake your brain
to forget
these sad and painful truths stay.
they are bats on the branches of your trees.
aphids on your leaves.
soon these truths kill you.
and then
they all set you free.
gratitude comes at last
before you even say it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Little Brothers! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! An answer is now born and the song is sung! ! ! ! !
Where are you now? My little brother! !
The answer is born and the song is able to be sung now! ! !
In the darkness, a pregnancy is hidden and it is beaten and pressed by the forced power of savages though.
Now the black birdis able to be sung the song of freedom, all pregnant truths are born with the winds and wings! ! !
If you don't know the season, consult with flowers
if you don't know the truth, consult with realities in motion
if you don't know about poetry, consult with truths
Even Jean Baudrillard run out of simulacrum, the thetricality of life events
The blood, the bones and the fleshes of Khuk Daung'the fighting pescock is singing a song og freedom and humanity
in the land of sublime misery
The black bird is singing nthe song of freedom and democracy
THE ANSWER! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
There are no whole truths: all truths are half-truths. It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays to the devil.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are no whole truths; all truths are half-truths. It is trying to treat them as whole truths that plays the devil.
quote by Alfred North Whitehead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shackles Of Fear
Shackle bounded
Bounded by shackles
Shackles of fear
They confine these hands
Shackles of fear
They bind these feet
Bound by shackles of fear
My mind is overdosed
My heart it beats slow
My eyes are wide shut
Lord God please
Release these shackles that hold me in captivity
Lord God please
Break these shackles that hinder me
Please God don't let my fear be the end of this journey
I'm shackle bounded
Bounded by shackles of fear
And I fear the release of my bounded shackles
These shackles they hinder me
poem by Brittany Hooks
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Beautiful Lies
Beautiful lies
Take us on the wings of might
Towards the skies infinite
And then dropp us on the heaps of truths-
Brutal truths buried.
Beautiful lies
Get painted on a marvelleous canvas of light
Against the background in twillight
And then shed the shadows of truths-
Barren truths ferried.
Beautiful lies
Send the beams of delight
In the dark chambers made of granite
And then surmount me with truths-
Nightmarish truths married.
Still in the thick coats of beautiful lies
I veil my frame when the Sun is on
And in the cradle of their rhymes
I find my sleep when the Fun is gone.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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The Place Of The Damned
please understand my friend
that to keep your sanity here
you need not scream
or kick or run wild around
the four corners of this
closed room of loneliness
between us there is nobody else
except perhaps your theory about
holding hands with your soul
the reflection of yourself in the mirror
you worship as though all these things
are holy and if holy must be true
this is the world of the damned
the inability of accept what is rightly there
staring before us
truths, truths, these are inevitable truths my friend
that we have been born lonely
and all the circumstances are nothing but laces
of the basket that they fill with fruits
and then we go back to the emptiness
and this we must face, this is the most reliable truth
of our being: we come here all alone, and alone we shall soon go.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Bohemia is nothing more than the little country in which you do not live. If you try to obtain citizenship in it, at once the court and retinue pack the royal archives and treasure and move away beyond the hills.
Failing God
Onlooker to your own empty life, you try to conceal
it was not that simple, to confess in silence.
Pain was the first question,
I give no answer.
The smell of pungent sweat
and levitating incense are entwining in the air.
Seeking my own truth, I abandon the path
and fall upon lies.
The lofty drama of life unfolds.
I was not seeking any labels.
Devoid of sanity, the possessed people were dancing,
around the fire without flames.
Fear of infinity haunts me,
I must answer to myself
to solve the mystery.
Of the fragility of my existence,
amidst the sounds of stubborn, half-baked truths.
This is, therefore a part of my poem,
dedicated to a failing god.
poem by Satish Verma
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As God Changes Another Heart
We cannot read between each line, for the power of God is divine,
When God enters another heart, from guessing we need to depart,
Every new believer, needs to grow, for the Truths of God to show,
And as the new believer grows; Truths to those about them shows.
It is The Spirit, not any of us, Who draws each one to Christ Jesus,
And as His Spirit begins to reside, God's changes will begin inside,
The heart of the new believer too, just like God did for me and you,
So as The Spirit moves their heart, changing Truths they will impart.
It's God's Spirit, Who will begin, sharing the changing Truths within,
As each believer shares the Truth, in being the Lord's saving proof,
Of a believer's spiritual change, sharing The Truth in Christ's Name,
The truth of just how and when, they, by God, became Born Again.
Encouraged by The Spirit of Christ, they will grow in their New Life,
As The Savior's New Creation, through the Power of His Salvation,
The very power that they received, when God's Truth they believed,
As they came to that saving faith, all by the power of God's Grace.
That Grace that'll help them grow, in the Truths they come to know,
Again, as one more blessed soul, allows The Spirit to take control,
Producing evidence in their life, of changes made by Jesus Christ,
As Christ alone, receives the glory, for yet another Salvation Story.
Truth Are Lies.. Lies Are Truth..
speak your truth from your quivering lips
but also your lies comes through them..
your half lies are also your half truths
yet your half truths are also your half lies
what shall you talk about them if your thruth are your lies
and your lieas are your truths
then this world would be filled of noise
being lies and being the truth
until all of us will be lost
what to believe and follow
will it be the half lies
or the half truths?
which one is to choice
the truth is yours but also are the lies..
so let us all live with he truths and the lies
within our hearts within our minds
till we are lost in a maze of half lies and half truths
poem by Villiamor Calventas
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The History Teacher
Woman!
Where exactly
Did you put me
In the women's history?
Am I History?
Or a part of it?
And for how long you are lacking me in;
Between
Your History,
Women's History, and
Your archives?
Does time make sense to you
As a History teacher or
As a History professor?
Cause', History, buying time, and rejuvenation
Are for emperors.
Are you making me
An emperor?
Or a Faeroe?
If so,
How precise your are?
And if you can't feel my present presence
how possibility could you feel me through your archives?
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Someday
Someday men will come to their senses
and there will be no war.
The sound of silence will replace
the deafening horrifying roar
of shots in the night
that oblierates the peace
continuing to kill and never cease.
The looks of hatred on the faces,
the savage looks that only erases
our reason for being here.
Did we not come to glorify?
Did we not come to live, not die?
Someday we'll walk upon the earth
and see faces differently.
The fear of our differences will disappear
and take away shackles to set us free.
This someday I speak of is, I think
very near for we're on the brink
where war will exist no more.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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All significant truths are private truths. As they become public they cease to become truths; they become facts, or at best, part of the public character; or at worst, catchwords.
quote by T.S. Eliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Glorious times These Are Thus Far
Great!
This is wonderful news.
The people have become outraged.
Completely sobered from their dazing stupors.
Magnificent!
And he who started this uproar?
The one from the pulpit who told it like it is?
Hopefully the momentum of it,
Will gain continued priceless revelation.
Finally.
The people begin to unbuckle,
From the seats of their fantasies.
And those adorning those rusted halos...
Now is the time for them to probe a little deeper,
Into their adopted prophesies.
What better times could these times be?
Who knew...
The silence of massive deceptions,
Would escalate into such meaning dialogue...
To uncloak without exception!
Of course racism does and has existed.
Only those nonbelieving,
Are those enclosed and themselves twisted.
Kneeling in front of symbols...
And praising the gods to which they lift!
It's in the fabric that has masked their greed.
Oh what glorious days are these!
Those who fed their appetites on hate,
Can no longer hide behind the myths of their false deeds.
This stench to secretly keep covered revenge.
Has from one man been unhinged.
We'll see who's blood is red when aired!
And not of royal blue...
When this mindless feud becomes publicly bared!
Where are the cloakers?
The ones who boast with self righteousness?
What glorious times these are!
Those who have benefitted...
From misrepresentations to fill their fists.
Will see who has given.
And what has been taken from whom!
Even from wombs they want to abort!
But these are not those times anymore.
Their explanations have come up short!
Let these truths begin!
What glorious times these times are!
These times we are witnessing.
And blessed to live in.
To have an awakening of truths to start.
'Real' truths that do not end!
What glorious times these are thus far!
With everything in the open...
And the pretense of a shallowness to defend!
Yes...
These are the days of our lives!
Revealed without apology!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Like Everything Else They've Accepted
To keep a people fantasized,
Strung out and deluded?
Never point out their shortcomings.
Approve of everything they do.
Including mass murder.
Support their justifications for it.
Gently slip away from them,
Beliefs others find them innocent.
Slowly introduce to them differences...
Between 'fundamental' truths,
And the consequences of deceit.
Show other races on TV defiant.
Connect this to fear and threats.
And then...
Blatantly steal from them.
Corrupt all their foundations.
Rip them off in front of their eyes.
They will deny this is being done to them!
And like everything else they've accepted...
They welcome their own destruction.
However...
This has to be done politically correct!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Love truths, love only truths
Love truths, love only truths
Love truths and love only truths
They may be simple but
powerful they are
Lies may be great to your vision
They will burn before a powerful truth
Reject all lies and love only truth
Truth may seem to be a burning fire but
It never hurts its followers
The path of truth may be hard and tideous but
It is the way of the world
The way of truth is the way of nobles
To raise yourself as a noble in the world
Travel in the way of truth
Travel in the way of truth as a traveler of God
The end of your path will be The gates of Heaven
There will be a place for you to talk with your Father
He is waiting for you with pleasures
Travel My Man in the way of truth
He is waiting for you with smile and love
Love truths and love only truths
They may be simple but
powerful they are
Lies may be great to your vision
They will burn before a powerful truth
Reject all lies and love only truth
Truth may seem to be a burning fire but
It never hurts its followers
The path of truth may be hard and tideous but
It is the way of the world
The way of truth is the way of nobles
To raise yourself as a noble in the world
Travel in the way of truth
Travel in the way of truth as a traveler of God
The end of your path will be The gates of Heaven
There will be a place for you to talk with your Father
He is waiting for you with pleasures
Travel My Man in the way of truth
He is waiting for you with smile and love
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poem by Sakthi Ravichandran
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When truth is no longer free, freedom is no longer real: the truths of the police are the truths of today.
quote by Jacques Prevert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teller Of Myths
Lieing is as much part of the culture,
As is deceit, embellishment and fantasy.
One honest in this kind of environment,
Is easily disregarded...
As a relic of a time.
Before the creation of movies...
Was conveniently the medium to use.
To depict the re-creation...
Of a history no one remembers.
'My great-great-great-great grandfather,
Designed and cobbled the boots worn...
By all the crew members on The Mayflower.
AND...
Left his own shoelaces to dry,
On top of Plymouth Rock.
I have that confirmed on parchment,
Among my treasured archives.
That's how my family obtained our 'social' registry.'
And that's part of who it is we are.
With denial defiantly displayed,
As a confirmation to cement...
The legitimacy of a nontruth.
Or whatever it is one wishes to claim.
With a snobbishness as phony as the teller of myths.
And...
These folk tale tellers all over the place.
And becoming quite common in distorting anything,
That 'had' been considered legitimately realistic.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Over the last two years, I have been able to comb through The Prince's archives. I have been free to read his journals, diaries and many thousands of the letters.
quote by Jonathan Dimbleby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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