Related quotes: Slowly, the consciousness gets clarified...

Extinguishment

Slowly, the consciousness gets clarified
A quiet, pervading wakefulness prevails
My creations speak of
infallible renouncement.

I ask myself
Why does a dense person
prefers rarefied isolation.

In the dim light
Peeping through bay-window
The formless shadows
cast illusion of a crowd.

And I realize
How my poems
are gettind condensed
day by day.....

Nirban
-
translated by Kamalesh Bandopadhyay

poem by Choudhuri Sukumar
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Related quotes

Come and behold

So I speak
Come and listen
Come and behold
Here I am
I am formless
I am norm-less
I am sacrifice
I am ritual
I am clarified butter
I am sacred fire
I am a poet
I am the mirror
I am the carrier
So I speak
I am nor weak
I can measure the world
As you say quick.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Isolation

In fear every day, every evening,
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love,
Surrendered to self preservation,
From others who care for themselves.
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
Mother I tried please believe me,
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize
Isolation, isolation, Isolation, isolation, isolation.

song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shekinah Light

The shekinah light drove Moses into the cleft
Felled Paul on the way to Damascus
Blinds all who look upon God’s unveiled face.
The light must be diffused to bring life
Light cast shadows from creations store
Beneath the shadows, life teams multicoloured.
Only the shadows give meaning and hope
So the light came, human in form
Seeable, recognisable, man shaped
Yes the light in him gave shape to everything
He is the prism by which love is known
Creation is ordered, humanity has hope.
The shekinah light of glory can be looked at
Bring new life, new hope, out of the shadows

poem by James Tipp
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He Has Kept The Key In Us!

He created everything,
Yet he can't perceived by anyone,
He is behind every creations,
yet no creation is immortal or eternal,
He dwells in everyone as light in every shining stars,
He is the formless gives forms to any formless,
He moves everything, remaining himself unmoved,
Not only he is creator,
But also sustainer and destroyer,
He is playing with universe,
He paints everyone with his own ideas!

He who has created everything,
Has created that fire of right knowledge,
He gave everyone the right,
To think right, work right, and live right,
Only the righteous gets the key,
That key lost in own self,
One can open the door of heaven or hell with that magic key,
When one learns the deception of senses,
And illusion of play of light,
Turns to that pure bright light within,
Where he can see the love and peace for ever!

He is formless behind all forms,
He paints on vacuum,
He illuminate the forms,
and lift the veil of illusions,
And show his true nature,
His presence everywhere,
He is the one who fills the breath in the toys,
Make them think and work,
He is selfless,
Yet look selfish,
Sometimes play with nature,
Sitting on that magic mat called space,
Here every one are protected,
When he feels enough,
fold the sky as if we fold the mat, everything has to go into that from which they are projected!
and he himself plays his game,
We have nothing to gain or nothing to lose,
He is the one regaining,
his lost glory in Us back!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Conversations With Hune

who names the flower a flower,
and the weed a weed?
and are not names
cardboard boxes
meant for the fire?

from the womb of darkness,
the sun reborn again and again...
each time with different faces,
different fingers, different hands...
or perhaps we see with different eyes!

do we speak the truth?
or doth the truth speak us?
perhaps 'we' are an illusion,
and there be only truth.
or perhaps truth is an illusion...
and we are only what we are...

what we are...
nameless particles of namelessness...
forms of the formless,
formless by nature.
words spoken by word,
or not spoken at all...

leaves fallen from the tree,
nests of straw left empty...
the sound one wing makes without the other,
the way air cries beaten by wings...
the sound the tree makes
when cut through by the saw...
the scream as it falls!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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The Unseen Shrines

The shrine where only one person can reign,
That is formless, figure less, unseen but felt and ours,
It is simply elusive, safe, treasured, but monopolized,
it is formless, figure less, unseen but felt and ours.
The shrine where only one person can reign,
Light this shrine with the wick of kindness,
The kindness, the size of life long,
Oil of understanding to fuel it regularly,
As Tolerance suffocates the person in it,
Let us understand and love each other,
The shrine where only one person can reign,
Never lighten this shrine with spirited lamps,
Smoke it with Incense of weeds and drugs,
The shrine that is figure less,
The shrine that is formless,
The shrine that is unseen,
The shrine that can be felt,
The shrine that can be enjoyed,
The shrine that can be worshiped,
It is nowhere else, it is in our heart,
That is built for the person whom we love.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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A Thing Just A Thing

things only seem to be what they are
when they try so hard to convince
they ask the help of light to cast some shadows
and if they can only speak they will say:

'you see, i am true
i am real, i am casting a shadow'
in my doubt, i touch a thing in you
there is nothing there but only a thing
and i tell you

'you are only a thing with a shadow
i haven't touched a heart'
and then i hear the silence
and then there was calm and quiet

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let's not be dazzled by the sententious glitter with which error and lying often cover themselves. Society is not created by the crowd, and bodies come together in vain when hearts reject each other. The truly sociable man is more difficult in his relationships than others; those which consist only in false appearances cannot suit him. He prefers to live far from wicked men without thinking about them, than to see them and hate them. He prefers to flee his enemy rather than seek him out to harm him. A person who knows no other society than that of the heart will not seek his society in your circles.

quote by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Peeping a window

Part 1

From inside you peep out
from outside you peep in;
to see the desired scene
keeping you unseen.

Part 2

Me and my friend were peeping
Through the same window
Having heartful bliss getting
a glimpse of her or her shadow

He did not know my deed
I did not know his deed
One day we got exposed
later window was closed

For him I gave up my desire
for me he sacrificed his longing
Our first seed of love was buried
before growing to seedling.

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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October Day

The bright white clouds against the blue
are moving slowly, passing through.
Their shadows cast upon the ground
move slowly too without a sound.
The winter sunshine’s slanted rays.
Join in the game and seem to chase
the shadows which the clouds have cast
Shining brightly when they’ve passed.
The sky is clear unbroken blue.
It feels a little warmer too.
A little sunshine does I find
lift up my spirits change my mind
about the way I view the day
I do not like it when it’s grey.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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When Poems Begin To Speak/Only Of Themselves

WHEN POEMS BEGIN TO SPEAK / ONLY OF THEMSELVES

When poems begin to speak
Only of themselves
They die of their loneliness
Of loving nothing else.

To be loved
We need to love
What is other than our selves.
A poem as a person
Thrives
By embracing
Someone else.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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To realize the value

To realize the value of a sister ask someone who doesn't have one...To realize the value of ten years ask a newly divorced couple... To realize the value of four years ask a graduate...To realize the value of one year ask a student who has failed the final exam...To realize the value of nine months who gave birth to a still born...To realize the value of one week ask an editor of a weekly newspaper...To realize the value of one minute ask a person who has missed the train, bus, or plane...To realize the value of one second ask a person who has survived an accident...time waits for no one, treasure it even more when you share it with someone special...To realize the value of a friend or family member >Lose One...

poem by Jessica Cheng
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Withdrawal of emotions

Grudge never fades
Grief never leaves
Promises are fake
Love is an illusion

Seeking for oblivion
Celebrate the isolation
Cast away our desires
Sail to the yonder land

poem by Arwen Lee CW
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Dreaming Inside

Last night I lay awake,
Last night people were screaming- People threatening to kill me-
I was alone in my room, lying amongst dark shadows-
Looking about- nobody else was there- I thought I must be dreaming,
The whole world was threatening me, as
I was chasing away the dark shadows on the walls,
I heard voices say ‘Dream on, dream on'
But I knew I wasn't dreaming.
It was after midnight- I was not sleeping-
All I could do was cast my eyes about the
Sallow colored walls- of this room- chasing away those shadows-
While I believed they were speaking to me-
Voices saying 'dream on, dream on'-
Were laughing and mocking me, so I believed-
These voices only I could hear- I could only pray I was dreaming inside-
I couldn't shut my eyes in these moments of wakefulness,
Because these shadows were robbing me of my sanity-
I could hear screaming voices and threatening intonations-
I was a lone being lost in a room amongst my own shadows-
When I realized these voices were coming from inside?
'Dream on, dream on'- I told myself in total desperation-
Knowing, however, I cannot dream within these moments of wakefulness-
I wanted to believe these shadows were alive,
So I wouldn't be alone in the midst of these loud and angry voices-
These voices only I could hear- commanding me to take my life.
'Dream on, dream on, ' I whispered hoarsely through my tears-
Be good to me, my shadows and rock me to sleep-
Carry me away to a trance where trees grow and flourish and
Where deer are running wild, locusts are singing and
I am alone amongst these melodious sounds of the summer.
It seems wherever I go and in whatever direction- these angry voices follow-
Tonight I shall lose myself amongst my shadows and close my eyes-
I shall close my eyes and pray although I am not certain if a God is listening-
I shall close my eyes and sleep-like a herd of deer chase away those who wish me harm-
And finally, with every effort- lose myself inside the world of my dreams
Where everything is quiet, without menacing voices so terrifying present and
I shall dream on, dream on, regaining my sanity-
Losing myself inside a world of eternal reverie for always...

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Lifes Projection

Inside an individual's life is a projection
of their life story, created from the Lamp of Divine light.

This Divine Light, focused, condensed, into a strong beam
projecting the ongoing life story of the individual.

This beam of Divine Light shines through the shutter
of moments connected by consciousness.

Consciousness acts like film, where the life story of the individual is experienced, acted on, and stored. The shutter of moments lets the Divine Light through because each moment is in the right position.

poem by Bullion Grey
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The Other One Needs

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

He's nothing but a whatever he wants to be.
He lives,
And breathes...
From a different,
Reality.

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And they got exactly what...
The other one needs.
She's nothing but a bad boy,
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And he prefers that over others.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

And they got exactly what...
The other needs.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

The other one needs.
Oh boy.
Oh boy!
Oh boy...

The other one needs.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poems About.

There are poems that you will never see
Marked in a folder titled 'privacy'
Poems of hate and anger and personal pain
Poems about greed and hunger and personal gain
Poems about people I would love to see dead
Poems about women I met
Poems about relationships that have gone bad
Poems about issues with mom and dad
Poems about me, the person no one knows
Poems about places where only my soul goes
Poems I wish I could place in the clouds for all to read
Poems about lust, selfishness and greed
Poems I know will hurt those I hate
Poems I write by complete mistake
Poems I have hidden in my heart and my head
Poems about things that are better left unsaid
Poems I want to share and poems I want to retract
Poems of shame and how others might act
They stay in my psyche, they are a part of me
These poems I write, but you will never see.

poem by Mahfooz Ali
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0397 That, it is

unknown; formless;
eternal; always present

who may think of it?
who may speak of it?
who may not think of it?
who may not speak of it?

where is it?
where is it not?
when is it?
when is it not?
what is it?
what is it not?
who is it?
who is it not?

when other is one
and there is here
and that is this
and then is now

and poets are silent
and silence holds their poetry
and mind and heart
are in love with rest

there in the stillness,
unknown, formless,
eternal,
always present,
here and now

poem by Michael Shepherd
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oh yes, Mr. Shaun, the Bible was not written in English

The Gospel of Christ and, in general,
the Holy Bible are written with the inspiration of God.
The Prophets and the Apostles
have recorded in written form
a portion of the oral teaching of the Old Testament

in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.
in Hebrew and Aramaic as well as the New Testament in Greek.

These are the original languages of the Holy Bible from' which all the translations have been derived. God's inspiration is confined to the original languages and utterances, not the many translations. There are 1,300 languages and dialects into which the Holy Bible, in its entirety or in portions, has been

translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated. translated.

This does not mean that the translations do not convey the meaning of the Bible for spiritual uprightness of the readers in their own language. On the contrary the Bible should be spread and preached to 'all nations'. The missionaries in foreign lands learn the language or the dialect of. the new area into which they bring the Bible and other religious teachings. For example, the missionaries from Constantinople, Saints Cyril and Methodios, sent to Christianize the Slavic peoples in the 9th century, first translated the Bible and the ritual books into the language of the people.

yes, Mr. Shaun, my friend the Bible was not written in English.IT was written in HEBREW, ARAMAIC, and GREEK....

But i like it written in English too, how i wish it were written in such a
language,
with a sense of class
and fashionable disguise,

for without it, how could i ever understand, God,

oh, my, God!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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