Fools! Do you argue, that things ancient ought, on that account, to be true and noble! Fallacies and Falsehoods there were from time immemorial, and dare you argue that because these are ancient these should prevail? In ancient times, do you think that there was not the ignorant, and the shallow minded? And why after all should you embrace so fondly a carcass of dead thoughts. Live in the present and shape the future, do not be casting lingering looks to the distant past for the past has passed away, never again to return.
quote by Subramanya Bharathi
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Future Of The Past
New times are now old ones,
Old ones are now history,
History becomes ancient,
Ancient becomes unknown,
Unknown shifts though time,
Shaping and molding in every which way,
Unknown times become myths,
Myths become religions,
False becomes truth,
Truths move to morals,
Morals are now what we live by,
Now has just become then,
The past has once been the future,
The future will soon become the past,
You were once born in the future of the past,
But the past has caught up,
And taken you with it.
Like a deadly arrow the past pierces life,
The future itself becomes victim to its strike.
As if to be Bonnie and Clyde,
Hand in hand the two opposites collide,
Together bringing everything to their long awaited fate.
Doing what they do best toward their ever most passions,
The future and the past are, and were, the two deadliest assassins,
Today,
Tomorrow,
And yesterday...
poem by Justin MonacoBarnes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ode To The Spinster...
you know much better
i will not argue, so, you build your own house
choose the kind of wood
what color of paint is used
how things must be
everyday, you decide
you accept things as they are
and ready already for
any eventuality: that loneliness
has been converted to
solitude
you have nephews and nieces
too many, yet to no one
has you entrusted your future
or your present life
you reason out
they too, have lives of their own
they are the children of their
own plans
the makings of their own thoughts
and the shape of
their own visions
you walk alone along the shores of
time
complete and self -sufficient
you want to touch their lives sometimes
but your second thoughts prevail
you have your own life to live
the design of your own
house
architectured by your own hands
this heart that beats for no
one
but you, and you alone, at the end
embracing your own self
against the strong wind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ancient Recall
Ancient days that are all gone
I never had the chance to look upon.
I've heard of them.
I've read of them.
So why do I feel drawn
to these ancient times
That I do not know?
They are fascinating
and I can't let them go.
Days of horse-drawn carriages
and dresses that reach to the floor,
Nights lit up by lanterns,
Seclusion near a sycamore,
Music played by string quartets,
beautiful music by four.
I visualize all these things.
Have I lived this life before?
Somewhere from this vast universe
I hear a somber voice.
It speaks to me in sad remembrance
and says to me 'Rejoice.
All the days were your choice.
Enjoy them as you did in the past
for these too shall not last.
You will be drawn some day to them,
fascinated once more
by days that you'll call ancient,
ancient days of yore.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Keeper of the Ancient Doors
Thou Keeper of the ancient doors
Thou Angel of the deep in the light
Thou Spirit in the seers of the times of yore
Thou that keeps the secrets of the distant future
Thou that preserves the history of the ancient past
Grant thou me entrance through thy door
That I may see into the future with thee
For unto the prince of darkness the world shall turn
Save thou grant the son of light the future’s light
Unstop my ears to the whispers from the future
Enlighten my eyes to behold the things that shall be
Grant thou me the spirit of the future today
That I might ride on his wings to times yet unborn
Let me soar on the wings of the eagle from the future
That I may see beyond the now and the near
For unto thee the future is as history in the open
And before thy eyes is nothing ever concealed at-all
Quicken my discernment in line with thine
That I may discern the way thou doesth
Move my heart beyond the things of now
That my passions may be for things unseen
Come unto me oh Spirit of the ancient seers
Come now unto me thou companion of the seers of light
Spirits of my kinds that treaded these realms before me
Grant unto me thine eyes to see beyond the times of now
And spare thou me thy ears to hear from the future
Say unto me the mysteries that are hidden
Open unto me the choices of men yet unmade
Thou that knowest tomorrow teach thou me
Thou that seeesth tomorrow show thou me
Beyond the quest for the things of now
I crave to see the things to come
As my destiny and inheritance in the light
Thou that came upon Daniel here am I for thee
Thou that came upon John descend now on me
Thou Spirit that was on Patmos be my guide today
Possess thou me, Spirit of the seers in the light
Open am I unto all thy visions
And unto thy voice I yield this day
Grant thou me the pass to the future thou seeth
Thou Keeper of the ancient doors
-Samson Ajilore 25: 06: ’11,1pm FCT
poem by Samson Ajilore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Myriad Thoughts
I sit here in myriad thoughts
dancing around my head
too fed up to put them to bed.
Thoughts of the past,
thoughts of the future too,
thoughts of things this and that
and thoughts of what to do.
Memories invade at times
of pastures long gone by
as the myriad thoughts
fill my mind with anger and with love
and times; I wish I could have lingered with
when my years were young.
Things pass in phases,
hearts entwine then fall apart,
seasons readily appear,
stay awhile and then depart.
Here I sit in a lonely waste
thinking thoughts of what might have been
if the crystal ball I look into had only seen.
Now the myriad thoughts appear
to haunt me in quiet times
and carry me to distant places
the world has left behind.
Those little specks of moments
that still linger from the past
that lay waiting to capture me
before the quiet time has passed.
28 November 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dimension Merge
For us the past has gone and the present moves on
into the yesterday of a future’s present time.
Despite living in the future’s past this will not last,
present and future will very soon combine.
Future or dimension, to some a misapprehension,
but they are one in the same.
If there’s more than one, they will follow on
to leave one, with it’s present name.
On merging we’ll realise we’ve no future to recognise,
and the past and present is all we’ll know.
The past will still be renewed, with each day used,
but the future will mean only tomorrow.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Path Of Time
Whether of present or past
Or future if you please
The time that you portray
Moves only for yourself
Some choose to live in the past
Lost hopes and dreams they share
But time only last
Until they release the burden they bear
Some choose to live in the present
And behold the sights of each day
A balance of decisions for 10 second frames
And everything always seems fair
Some people look towards the future
To see long term effects unfold
However long it takes to get there
They keep persisting towards their goal
I chose to live in the present
Ignore the past and future presence
And live life like I will not see the next day
And still not have to care
But if I provide an example
For past, present, or future
My path is still my own
And moves only for myself
poem by Logan Fulk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Time and Experience
I found the past in my present
I built the future on my past
I found the gift of today
When I thought about what
The future has to offer
Where is the wisdom in experience
If there is no folly in wisdom
What's the real meaning of death
If our spirits live forever
Times never change
But circumstances do
I'll let mystery play with the future
Surprises couple with the present
And experience mourn the past
Because sun always rises from the east
And each day always comes to an end
Experience is not chained to wisdom
Nor is folly tied to bad results
But to the circumstances that burden
Our past, present and future because
Time is always anxious for the future
Experience loves the present
And wisdom never divorces the past
poem by Benaiah Sondashi
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This They Wish to Insist
Please tell me this isn't true?
No one takes pride in being ignorant!
Submersed in those ignorant things they say and do.
Do they knowingly accept,
An incorrectness they perfect?
And if they do,
How far will they get?
When already they display,
Such a stupidness in disarray.
Please tell me this isn't true?
No one takes pride in being ignorant,
Submersed in those ignorant things they say and do.
And if this is true...
That deadend ahead is no accident?
It was an intention meant?
To experience what?
And to enlighten who?
If fools can be this wise...
Wouldn't it have been more feasible,
To spend less on clown makeup...
And have done the same thing,
To produce efforts...
More collectively economized?
Or...
Do they feel,
Those who 'are' wise should be taught lessons?
And this they wish to insist,
They are the ones better qualified...
With no one to argue how they go about it.
And being in disguise,
Allows them to go effectively undetected!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Can Only Live In The Here And Now
We cannot live in the future the future of us is ahead
And the past has gone forever though memories of it are not dead
We can only live in the here and now though the clock keeps ticking on
And the future we don't know about and the past forever gone
Some say we receive from life from life what is our due
Though many fall victim of bad circumstance so happens to be true
And though some will also tell you hard times are not meant to last
Those who do not have a future are those who have had a tragic past
The rags to riches stories to say the least are rare
Though lady luck can make of you an instant millionaire
Though of one who has won first division lotto I for one am not aware
For such extremely lucky people to say the least are rare
The future is ahead of us and the past forever gone
And we can only live in the here and now though time is ticking on.
]
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Just Passing Time
Passing time,
Time passes.
And longing for times past.
With no pastime,
I think of past times.
Times of joy.
Sorrowful times.
Layered.
Like an alluvial plain,
I am inundated, flooded.
As the past floods in
Passing by the inner eye
I time travel.
Bad thoughts by passed
Passed all thought
They pass away.
Pass into the past
To lie again quiescent
A timely demise
For times past.
Copyright P H Brookes 20012
poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haunts Of Ancient Peace
Beside the garden walls,
We walk in haunts of ancient peace.
At night we rest and go to sleep
In haunts of ancient peace.
The love and light we seek,
The words we do not need to speak,
Here in this wondrous way we keep
These haunts of ancient peace.
Let us go there again
When we need some relief
Oh, when I cant find my feet
When I need rest and sleep.
The sunday bells they chime
Around the countryside and towns
A song of harmony and rhyme
In haunts of ancient peace.
The holy grail we seek
On down by haunts of ancient peace.
We see the new jerusalem
In haunts of ancient peace.
Oh, when I cant find my feet
Oh, when I need some relief
One more time again.
You know I want to go there one more time again.
Be still in haunts of ancient peace.
(be still)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time
Who knows about the future? Who knows what we'll find?
What good and bad things are in store by chance or design?
What can be done today to alter the future's course?
If truth be known you alone rule effects of its force.
Today at work or play only the present exists.
A wise world has no room for a past-present-future tryst.
Each future hour, joyful or dour, will never arrive.
The future will be the future as long as you're alive
The past is gone forever never to steal today's times,
Unless could-have-been memories commit awful crimes.
So love and live each instant of each and every day.
You have so little time as each moment passes away.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Past, Present, And Future
As I think about the future,
I dream about the past.
I live in the present,
So I can make these moments last!
So I can’t wait to see,
What the future holds for me!
I feel no remorse for things done in the past,
Because the past holds the key,
To open new doors for present and future necessities!
poem by Orlando Feliciano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Past Was Goodly Once
The Past was goodly once, and yet, when all is said,
The best of it we know is that it's done and dead.
Dwindled and faded quite, perished beyond recall,
Nothing is left at last of what one time was all.
Coming back like a ghost, staring and lingering on,
Never a word it speaks but proves it dead and gone.
Duty and work and joy--these things it cannot give;
And the Present is life, and life is good to live.
Let it lie where it fell, far from the living sun,
The Past that, goodly once, is gone and dead and done.
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Chinese Takeaway - for David with thanks
The ancient sage, beset with too many thoughts
for one human lifetime,
chooses carefully the place to sit
beside the lake,
under the even more ancient twisted pine
with the view of distant cliffs
where the stork’s cry echoes;
gathers his thoughts.
Out of mercy,
the breeze gently ruffles the surface
of the lake;
the sage, reminded by the ripples
of the stillness of the lake,
smiles from a mind that’s now the lake
reflecting the blueness of the sky;
reflects, beyond the blue,
the space in which immortals live.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Part of what we love about poetry is the fact that it seems ancient, that it has an authority of ancient language and ancient form, and that it's timeless, that it reaches back.
quote by Robert Morgan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ancient Hills Of Toora
The ancient hills of Toora are looking brown today
Yet they were lush and rather green when last I passed this way
But that was last September when the nesting birds did sing
And every where looked greener in the early days of Spring.
To those ancient hills of Toora the Seasons come and go
And where once were thousands of gum trees only a few gums grow
And the Aboriginals who lived and hunted on those hills are not around today
Time brings with it great changes and it's always been that way.
The ancient hills of Toora as old as father time
And they were millions of years old when Christ was in his prime
The oldest human on Planet Earth perhaps fifteen years with five score
But the ancient hills of Toora will exist forever more.
The ancient hills of Toora overlooking Toora Town
From the long and warm dry Summer have never looked so brown
But I recall last September decked in their wildering flowers
Those ancient hills of Toora lush and green after Spring showers.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Secret of Time and its Passage
Memory defeats passage of time
Hurts and pains enliven passed times and events
In the form of aches, and rarely are enlivened pleasant experiences had;
Anxiety, fear, apprehension constitute the future;
Past and future are thought forms
In the present continuous,
Arising out of earlier experiences,
And doubts and imaginations about the imminent,
Are mere mental projections
In the present;
The present continuously changes
Every one tenth of a second
As a pulse series of awareness
Replacing past dissolving into future;
Events took place and the ones we imagine may happen
Respectively create memory,
And doubts, fears and expectations;
Thus the egoistic mind drawing us into the past or future
And seldom allowing us to live in the present
And enjoy current bliss, peace and silence
Creating whirlpool of time and its passage
Never lets us transcend the notion of time
And its passage;
But the reality is,
Present continuous being
One-tenth of a second,
The past over and the future yet to dawn;
Realization of this secret of
Passage of time, past, present and future
As mere thought forms in the present,
Sets in us peace, bliss and quietude
And we face life cheerfully
Transcending mental suggestions
And enjoy the present in calmness,
Peace, bliss, silence, in unoccupied awareness
As contented and content-free state of mind
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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