How Would I Take Thee?
How would I take thee?
-upon my journey?
With pictures to see
-confirming our history-
with smiles and tears
-knitting every memory.
Batu-Indonesia
August 28,2005
Related quotes
Frozen Memory
What is this rush
I feel in me
Do I get a blush
there in memory?
Have I been lying to me
or is it just a condemned fling
of a condensed memory
from a long time parting?
And still, you make me
rhyme in my rush
picking up my ink
for the sake of frozen memory.
(Batu, East Java-Indonesia/August 12th,2007)
Nowhere but INDONESIA
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands island lies on equator
Sun shines brightly along the year
Welcoming smiles are free of charge
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands lie covered those islands
Son shy to says that He is right
Full of charge are those who lies
Nowhere but Indonesia
Hope and pain live in peace
For hope is shadow of the pain
And pain is a charge of the hope
Nowhere but Indonesia
Plant and animals live in harmony
For it was said beyond the ages
and should be paid without objection
Nowhere but Indonesia
Children built their little dream
Tear it off when they grew up
Comes denial when getting old
Nowhere but Indonesia
We smile when we smile
We smile when we not smile
We not smile when you smile
Nowhere but Indonesia
Am on my knee lift up a prayer
God bless my country is what I plea
Coz my country long time no smile
Nowhere but Indonesia
Thousands island lie on equator
Hope and pain live in peace
We smile when we not smile
-
Jakarta,080326
poem by George Sicillia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Margaret To Dolcino
Ask if I love thee? Oh, smiles cannot tell
Plainer what tears are now showing too well.
Had I not loved thee, my sky had been clear:
Had I not loved thee, I had not been here,
Weeping by thee.
Ask if I love thee? How else could I borrow
Pride from man's slander, and strength from my sorrow?
Laugh when they sneer at the fanatic's bride,
Knowing no bliss, save to toil and abide
Weeping by thee.
Andernach on the Rhine,
August 1851.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Malaysiana - Pulau Batu Putih
Pulau Batu Putih
I feel a part of myself
gone too
Pulau Batu Putih
the white stone we fail
to sign our name on
Pulau Batu Putih
the white song we forgot
to sign our name on
MAY 23,2008
THE HAGUE: The International Court of Justice ruled Friday in favour of Singapore in a 28-year sovereignty dispute with Malaysia over the tiny, uninhabited island of Pulau Batu Puteh.
'The court, by 12 votes to four, finds that sovereignty... belongs to the Republic of Singapore, ' Judge Awn Shawkat Al-Khasawneh said, reading out the ruling. - AFP
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Bruno Manser
Bruno, Bruno
Where are you?
Are you scaling Batu Lawi?
Are you still up there on Batu Lawi?
Are you still with your
Beloved Borneo tribes?
Where are you Bruno?
Your family are waiting
Your friends are waiting
For you back in Basel
Missing you day and night
Your tribal comrades too
Are longing to see your
Courageous face again
Missing your inspiration
Bruno, Bruno
Are you really on the run?
Away from those
Who are on your heels?
Away from those
Who swear to put
You behind bars?
Away from those
Who wish to send
You back home?
Bruno, Bruno
You are brave
Your are adventurous
You are indomitable
In fighting for your beloved
Borneo brethrens
But Bruno, Bruno
It is a lost cause
Isn't it?
Is there a better
Way to stand up for them?
Is there a better
Way to stand up for them?
Bruno, Bruno
But where are you?
Are you still up there on Batu Lawi?
Are you still up there on Batu Lawi?
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, and the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Grandma Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A strange thing is memory, and hope one looks backward, and the other forward one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.
quote by Anna Mary Robertson Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black History Month
In January...
There they are making history.
In February...
There they are making history.
In March...
There they are making history.
In April...
There they are making history.
In May...
There they are making history.
In June...
There they are making history.
In July...
There they are making history.
In August...
There they are making history.
In September...
There they are making history.
In October...
There they are making history.
In November...
There they are making history.
In December...
There they are making history.
But...
It's nice to know
The shortest month of the year
Was chosen to celebrate
The great deeds of African-Americans!
However...
It is those LEAP YEARS,
That really have the blacks jumping for joy!
Note: 'Black History Month' along with other
works of interest can be found in...
*'MindPrints from Untouched Places-VOL I'*
~Now available online at a PC near you~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tripping Over A Memory
I keep tripping over a memory
that should have left behind.
My life has become a puzzle
and there are pieces I cannot find.
Each becomes more a mystery
as I travel my journey through.
This memory I keep tripping over
is not an unpleasant one,
but why does my mind
always replay just that one scene.
Is there something that I am missing,
something I should have seen
and my mind wants me to remember
that something I can clearly not.
The answer for my dilemma
may come to me one day,
until that day comes along,
I’ll keep tripping over a memory
that I should have left behind.
23 August 2008
poem by David Harris
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Early Affeection
I loved thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray;
And will until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles or tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling galantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in age's blast,
And beauty can ascend no more;
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light;
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight;
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still a moment wait for me.
I love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd,
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade;
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.
poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Sonnet XLIII: How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet XLIII
How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Xliii
How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life !--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Do I Love Thee
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Guru's Amrit
1. May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
To make me drink the Amrit of knowledge:
My Sat Guru, take me out of
Darkness into light !
2. To begin with, mayst Thee make me
Contemplate on my Sat Guru !
Moment after moment, would I
Pine to kneel before Thee !
Day and night, not for a moment
Would I suffer separation from Thee
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
3. My Guru, solve the problems of my life
Now that I am born !
Humble me not among saints;
Subdue the thieves of
My emotive senses by
Strengthening the power of my will !
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
3. Subduing my emotions, break the lustful elephant
Of my pugnacious conceit
Guide me, only on one
............ of the eleven paths !
Keep me not off from
The word, SUHUM
(I m Thee).
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge
5. Make me wash myself clean
In the Sheshrum Nag lake;
Look not at my sinful life !
Ferry me too across, as Thou did
Mohini Sada Guru.
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
6. Moment by moment, let me
Meditate on Thee
Make me think of and do, only that
Which's right to think and do !
O, Kamadeva, Shyam Sundara
Let me not come and go
Come and go (Shuttle between life and death)
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
7. O, Bishambara, grace me with Thy presence
Stay awhile.
isten to my tale:
Revive my old memories !
May Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge !
8. Grace me with Thy presence in graceful garlands
And, show me Thy haloed aura, luster light !
My day has passed by, mayst Thee not
Make me wait any longer !
Mayst Thee open Thy august mouth of wisdom
And make me drink the Amrit of Thy knowledge.
poem by Swami Parmanand
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 43 - How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
XLIII
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Crocheted
With only the dramatic art of Lease Agreements
to tether my mind, my thoughts flew away to the
mathematics of crafts – coral reefs are crocheted,
the atmosphere is knit and some even fold a stop
sign into a pair of pants - at the intersection of
math and handicraft
Confirming my suspicion that the fine art of knitting
cables in multicoloured, many-layered wool - can be
used to represent Many Worlds Theory!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Family Pictures
Don’t you just love old family pictures?
Dug out from dusty box or chest
I don’t think there is anything else
That can compare – they’re the absolute best
There is nothing like those black and whites
The photos from the past
Of course we know from history
That nothing ever lasts
Time moves on, of course it does
But pictures can live without end
They keep our families together
They are one thing that we can depend
Family pictures are such treasures
They take us back in time
They put us in the moment
And let the past unwind
As I go through several lifetimes
And look at my family’s history
I’m so thankful I have these photos
They help unravel many family mysteries!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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