The future is a hundred thousand threads, but the past is a fabric that can never be rewoven.
Orson Scott Card in Xenocide
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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Rip Up The Threads
We're all in this together.
We never were alone.
We've just been told
we're different.
And so the words were sewn
into a fabric, sewn up tight
by the dirty hands with the needle
and the threads became the grime.
It made the fabric
and wove the shame
into it tightly
without any name.
For without a name
there's just a blank space,
no visible face
to cast the blame on.
Rip up the threads.
Rip it in shreds.
Each race take a thread
and pull it apart.
Your common purpose
will be what you see.
And peace will finally start.
Love will be there
for we're creatures from God
that wants us to share
in a fabric made of love.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Parents are like shuttles on a loom. They join the threads of the past with threads of the future and leave their own bright patterns as they go.
quote by Fred Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Few Chore
The future is here
I'll say it again
The future is here
Two thousand ten
Flying cars, time-warps
Food comes in pill-form
Robots n' teleports
Progress is still-born
The future came and went
I guess thats the past
The future is coming
I bet it won't last
The past is tomorrow
Or will be next week
Time's a mother****er
The future is bleak.
poem by Les Wordsmore
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The difference is slight, to the influence of an author, whether he is read by five hundred readers, or by five hundred thousand; if he can select the five hundred, he reaches the five hundred thousand.
quote by Henry B. Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spinning
Like a blind spinner in the sun,
I tread my days;
I know that all the threads will run
Appointed ways;
I know each day will bring its task,
And, being blind, no more I ask.
I do not know the use or name
Of that I spin:
I only know that some one came,
And laid within
My hand the thread, and said, 'Since you
Are blind, but one thing you can do.'
Sometimes the threads so rough and fast
And tangled fly,
I know wild storms are sweeping past,
And fear that I
Shall fall; but dare not try to find
A safer place, since I am blind.
I know not why, but I am sure
That tint and place,
In some great fabric to endure
Past time and race,
My threads will have; so from the first,
Though blind, I never felt accurst.
I think, perhaps. this trust has sprung
From one short word
Said over me when I was young,--
So young, I heard
It, knowing not that God's name signed
My brow, and sealed me His, though blind.
But whether this be seal or sign
Within, without,
It matters not. The bond divine
I never doubt.
I know He set me here, and still,
And glad, and blind, I wait His will;
But listen, listen, day by day,
To hear their tread
Who bear the finished web away,
And cut the thread,
And bring God's message in the sun,
'Thou poor blind spinner, work is done.'
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Rising dreams
Dreams!
My delicate dreams!
Woven with the tender threads of love,
Bound with the glue of belief.
When collide,
Break down
Into shears and shreads.
A thousand of them!
Each bit a tiny momento
Of time.
Each bit a priceless memory
Difficult to unwind.
I mourn,
My thousand tears
And bury them
Deep somewhere in my heart.
My heart,
Cemetery of my dreams.
My dreams,
Born a thousand lives
Dying a thousand deaths.
My delicate dreams
Woven with the threads of love
Bound with the glue of belief.
And
To my weirdest surprise
I see them rise
From thousand broken shears
From thousand broken shreds
With smile in their lips
Hope in their brows
They rise
Weaving together the threads of love
Bonding with the glue of belief.
Yes! They rise
My dreams They rise.-anjali
poem by Anjali Kakati
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Breath by Breath
Our moments are precious and
Our time is now.
Use it wisely and use it well!
There is no connecting the past
And future. The presence is the
in-between and only lasts but
Less than a breath.
The presence is so fast,
a blink of an eye and it is the past!
Then are we really living our future with
each inhale and our past goes out
with each exhale?
Are is it really just a pretence of presence?
Future - Past,
Future - Past,
Future - Past!
poem by JDarrell Kirkley
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Only One Way
A thousand good-byes
A thousand tears
A thousand words you didn't hear
A hundred mistakes
A hundred regrets
A hurdred bruises
Only one way to survive
Only one way to die
Only one way to say good-bye
(5-1-05)
poem by Brandi Young
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A Hundred Years From Now
(Marty Stuart)
When you left I nearly lost my mind
And I tried to drown my sorrow
Every night in warm, red wine
My old heart's broke to pieces
But I'll get by somehow
Cause I won't care, Lord, a hundred years from now
From the top of this old world
To the bottom of the glass
I've thrown away my future
By drownin' out the past
When you walked out the door
Girl, you broke every vow
But I won't care a hundred years from now...
Tonight I'm hurtin'
In an old familiar way
Lord, I've got lots of reasons
Why I come here every day
Lord, I'm tired of lovin' lonesome
That's how old Travis feels right now
But I won't care a hundred years from now...
From the top of this old world
To the bottom of the glass
I've thrown away my future
By drownin' out the past
When you walked out the door
Girl, you broke every vow
But I won't care a hundred years from now...
Lord, I won't care a hundred years from now...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Currency
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
A half, a million dollars
A million dollars
Fourteen million
Why?
Ten million
Fourteen million
Dont you ever think of money?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Take it, take it
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars
Five thousand dollars in cash
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
One hundred thousand
Two hundred thousand
Three hundred thousand
Why? !?
A half, a million dollars
A million dollars
Fourteen million
Why?
Ten million
Fourteen million
Dont you ever think of money?
As much cash as possible
As much cash as possible
As much cash as possible!!!
song performed by by Information Society
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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The difference is slight, to the influence of an author, whether he is read by 500 readers, or by five hundred thousand; if he can select the 500, he reaches the five hundred thousand.
quote by Brooks Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time My Past My Future! ! !
Time My Past My Future
The time is racing my past behind me
NO!
My past in front,
My future behind,
I wasn't thinking of my future,
I was back in my past.
But now this is my story! ! ! !
A mother who did not love me,
A sister a brother trying to comfort me,
I felt all alone
Now inhale
and
Exhale.
My future
A mother, A brother, once upon a time a father,
But no more
I stride for my future,
Not for my past
I tell you children
NEVER Look Back! ! !
But i do wondering......
I f my past was different would my future be better?
Would it?
Never mind that,
The time is racing to my future
I live for today and NOT tomarrow.
So I Never Look Back.
poem by Chauntae Ridley
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No Future, Too Much Past
When you have no future
You have to live in the past
A member of this human race
Who'll pass the finish line last.
The future, things to come
Nothing much except pain
The past, Times gone by
Nothing at all, just plenty of rain.
So disaster looms on every corner
Just waiting to leap out at you
You could take a different path
But it finds you whatever you do.
So the future and the past Are just one and the same
The first and second halves of a stupid bloody game
Impossible to win, Destined to lose
I should just give in and sink into the ooze.
And the future draws to a close
While the past increases in size
No future, too much past
And more loneliness, sadness and lies.
poem by Mark Hopwood
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The Past, Now and Future
the past is what makes me, me
the now is what i choose to be
the future is what i cant see
if i live in the past
the now wont last
the future comes fast
the past was bad
the now is sad
the future has to be glad
the past is over and gone
the now is here, so i go on
the future is soon to come
poem by Sandy Nobody
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You Were The Last High
I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I said
When you were the last
Then I have known love
Like a whore
From at least ten thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
You were awake
And I should have stayed
But I wandered
I was only out for a day
Out for a day
It was Chicago
For a moment
And then
It was
Paris and London
For a few
Days
Now I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
And you were the last high
High
High
High
I was the first
To have spoken
And I said
Just about
All the things
You shouldn't say
So maybe you loved me
But now
Maybe you don't
And
Maybe you'll call me
Maybe you won't
Oh
So I am alone
But adored
By a hundred thousand more
Then I said
When you were the last
And I have known love
Like a whore
From at least ten thousand more
Then I swore
When you were the last
When you were the last high
High
High
High
And you were the last high
High
High
High
song performed by by Dandy Warhols
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
Nature uses only the longest threads to weave her patterns, so that each small piece of her fabric reveals the organization of the entire tapestry.
quote by Richard P. Feynman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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100,000 Pennies
I broke into the bank on Sunday,
You should see the money I got.
I couldn't drag it home 'til Monday,
'Cause it sure weighed an awful lot.
Then I sat down to count it,
And much to my surprise,
A whole lotta little brown, little round coins,
Rolled out before my eyes
Chorus:
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
Not a solitary dollar or a dime,
And I don't believe there's many,
Rich men with a problem like mine.
And I don't think this is any
Kind of ending to a perfect crime.
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
And I'm spendin' it a penny at a time!
Now a steak sure would taste delicious,
And I've forgot how a beer would feel,
But the man just might get suspicious,
If I gave him eight hundred pennies for a meal.
So I guess I'll just weigh myself again,
And buy me another stick of gum,
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies, Lord!
And I'm livin' like a penniless bum!
Chorus:
I've got a hundred thousand dollars worth of pennies,
Not a solitary dollar or a dime,
And I don't believe there's many,
Rich men with a problem like mine.
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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