Showing posts with label Emotional poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emotional poem. Show all posts

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Reconfiguring Romanticism (24): Charles Darwin, from The Origin of Species

On the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s birth (February 12, 1809), the following is the closing paragraph of On the Origin of Species as reprinted in Poems for the Millennium, volume 3, The University of California Book of Romantic & Postromantic Poetry, in the section called “A Book of Origins.” We take it as a meditation – practically a prose poem – on the poetics of evolution and include it there to heal the breech, if it ever existed, between poetry & science.

It is interesting to contemplate an entangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing on the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms, so different from each other, and dependent on each other in so complex a manner, have all been produced by laws acting around us. These laws, taken in the largest sense, being Growth with Reproduction; Inheritance which is almost implied by reproduction; Variability from the indirect and direct action of the external conditions of life, and from use and disuse; a Ratio of Increase so high as to lead to a Struggle for Life, and as a consequence to Natural Selection, entailing Divergence of Character and the Extinction of less-improved forms. Thus, from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows. There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.



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Saturday, November 22, 2008

Music For The Stars!

Alan Cohen author of, " Chicken Soup For The Soul," and other inspirational books said that in his work, "Lifestyles Of The Rich In Spirit."

A prominent political figure from a Muslin nation visited one our University recently to speak and answer questions, and I watched the president of that institution challenge him and attack him verbally. There was no peace in the words he used to describe his guest, he had his mind made up that this man represented the enemy and a war of words was in order. It was obvious to everyone that this man and his country were works of the devil and it was our duty to eliminate him first by dehumanizing him, and then by threats of war.

The guest answered the questions as best he could; he knew that the majority of the audience would not accept his words, but he tried to explain his country's position on several topics that struck fear in the hearts of Americans; but our thoughts had already established that this man was someone to hate. He on the other hand, stood his ground firmly and explained his position as clearly as he could given the atmosphere of emotions that surrounded him. He did not claim to hate or want to destroy us, he said he wanted to be our friend; he said that his religion was a peaceful one and that his country wanted to live by their beliefs without interference from other nations. He saw the conflict in Iraq as a senseless attempt to control something that was not under our control; it had been in existence for centuries before we were born as a country and always found a way to resolve its own issues. In the mist of all the anger and resentment he found himself in, he maintain his composure and expressed his feelings about how we had created the situations we found ourselves involved in, and that we were the ones that are forcing other nations to conform unconditionally.

The real issue is not about this man and his country; it is about each one of us. As Alan said, we must find the peace in our hearts in order to heal our separation. If we are motivated by fear, anger, and hatred, that is what we will manifest; the face of this man was that manifestation.

We do not practice what we preach in church each Sunday, we do not follow the teachings of Christ if we attack and fight in order to control. Destroying never brings healing, but forgiveness does. Through all the years of fighting we still do not get the concept of unity; we still put ourselves up on a higher plane of existence; we are disconnected from our source and do nothing but fight in order to reconnect; years of conditioning has made us what we are, a group of wanderers looking for redemption in all the wrong ways. It is us against everything else, when in fact there is nothing else; what we see is a mirror, there for us to remember who we really are.

Alan said something else in his book, " The most significant contribution you and I can make toward world peace is to be peaceful ourselves, to give peacefulness to those whose lives we touch daily, and to forgive ourselves for our errors, to the point at which we love ourselves no matter what we have ever done."

Now is the time for that forgiveness; now is the time to reunite within myself, to be the spirit that expresses the love that fills my heart. I can change and will change in order to be at peace; I ask for help from my source and it is given; I ask for love to fill my body and it is given; I ask to share that love with all life and it is given.
This Russian folk song explains my thoughts:

If the people lived their lives

As if it were a song!

For singing out the light

Provides the music for the stars

To be dancing circles in the night.

Howard (Hal) Thomas Manogue, was born in Philadelphia, and is a forerunner to the Indigo children, a now age term for misfit with an intuitive nature, a desire to know his truth with a gift of giving and sharing. Hal retired from the shoe industry after 35 years of sole searching, and discovered his real soul. He enjoys art, music, philosophy, psychology, nature and people.

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Thursday, November 20, 2008

One Door Away From Heaven Book Review

Like many of Dean Koontz's books, this novel tells the story of several people whose lives intertwine in strange ways. It's a tale of fate, duty and hope, starting with a woman in need of help. Micky Bellsong is at a crisis point in her life. She is staying with her Aunt Geneva (an extraordinarily entertaining character) when she meets a young girl named Leilani. The girl soon reveals her terrifying homelife involving a killer stepfather and an uncaring mother, and before Micky has time to react to the news, the girl vanishes with her family. Micky soon finds herself on a mission to save Leilani.

There's another plot that follows a little boy and his dog, a journey that becomes terrifying even to the book's readers. Koontz tells this part of the story in the present tense, further intensifying the struggle. Of course, the boy and Micky eventually cross paths, and the world will change when they do.

I think One Door Away From Heaven will be well-received by fans of horror that yearn for just a little bit more out of their thriller novels. Koontz delivers action and suspense, yet at the same time offers philosophy and theories to his readers. This one is definitely a page-turner with a higher purpose. The book delivers fast-paced action along with some very serious themes, like assisted suicide and substance abuse.

I loved the feel of this novel. It was exciting and suspenseful, and it provided a really good message at the same time. Very well-written with a great plot and full of meaning. A perfect novel!

Every so often, I come across a book that I just need to share. Reading this made me want to buy a copy of this book for everyone I know. I think everyone should read this one. Upon finishing One Door Away From Heave, I felt really good about life, as a Koontz novel typically leaves me. I like that the author portrays a good message about life in this novel.

Some find Koontz difficult to read at times, due to his twisted plot lines and deep philosophical streaks. In the end, I think his novels are worth the read, particularly if you're in the mood to think about the deeper meanings behind life and our existence. For me, Koontz novels get better when he stopped following a formula. One Door Away From Heaven is truly a great read!

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Friday, August 22, 2008

One Night Standard

It has all come down
to this: you loved me once
on a Wednesday night.

Twists and turns
of our flesh and bones,
just to see what would
become of us.

It was magic while it was,
and you said goodbye
as you tied your shoes.

I won't ever forget
the sharp shape
of your back;
a silhouette across
Thursday morning.
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Saturday, May 24, 2008

Beautiful Losers - Winning Within With Attitude

By Paul Davis

Beautiful and gracious losers

Huh? What did I hear you say?

I know it's a new concept anyway

One many fail to wonderfully discover

Gloriously awaken to and uncover

It's because most fight for their right

To exert their image and reputation

Exalt and uplift their societal station

Such loathe a moment of degradation

Their self-image frail and easily derailed

By an unkind word or condescending look

Hence they are often hooked and overcome

As they succumb and easily run to appease

Do whatever it takes to remove intimidation

Peer pressure and emotional manipulation

They bend, bow, and break ever so easily

Just the thought of such does make me queasy

An authentic life quenched by fear and timidity

As for me on the contrary, I cannot merely be

A product of my environment, turbulent stupidity

Opinionated animosity and frail human tendency

To respond ever bitterly whenever we do disagree

A foolishness certainly and definitely not for me

Call me a loser because I'm not loaded with cash

Call me a loser because I don't know every celebrity

Call me a loser because with me you disagree politically

Call me a loser because I don't embrace your ideology

Call me a loser because I don't drink with you socially

Call me a loser because I don't dress as you fashionably

Call me a loser because I don't drive your brand of car

Call me a loser because I don't talk and think as you are

Call me a loser because I break the mold and am bold

Call me a loser because I have a purpose beyond yours

Call me a loser because I have my own opportunity's doors

Call me a loser because my pursuits and pleasures differ

Call me a loser because I know God above and prefer

To be spiritually minded and possess heavenly vision

Call me a loser because I don't yield agreeably to opinion

Regardless of what you think or say in Christ I have dominion.

Invite Paul to speak in your city!
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Out Of Darkness - Dealing With Darkness And Breaking Through Darkness

By Paul Davis

Out of darkness, even gross darkness

Almighty God commands forth the light

Setting life in order, making all wrongs right

Giving groping, confused, and troubled men

Illumination, revelation, knowledge, and insight

While they endeavor to press on through life

When they find themselves fearfully financially tight

Going through earthly and an overwhelming plight

Of situations and circumstances, engulfing their soul

It is the Lord of hosts that mightily arises to cajole

Far more so considering God's promises are true

Pure, noble, good, and able to take you through

The darkness presently, gruesomely swallowing you

When you wrestle with direction and what to do

When your aims and objectives delay in fruition

When you seek realignment and a new position

When you kick, bawl, squall and refuse to listen

When you need a higher and divine perspective

When you're tormented within and are ineffective

The Lord of love and life provides the breakthrough

Just drop your pride and humbly draw near for grace

Like a tender child seek God above, pursue His face

Beyond just His hand, apprehend His thoughts and heart

Before you finish praying, making requests, and depart

Take time to listen to what His Spirit wants to say to you

The Spirit of truth will amazingly reveal and direct you

And suddenly the light will shine in darkness to show you

Though the darkness will fail to adequately comprehend it

Your spirit within will awake, be quickened, and grasp it

Meanwhile your mind may argue, reason, and maybe bicker

Yet yield to God's Word and you will fulfill your destiny quicker

For God, who wonderfully said, "Let light shine out of darkness,"

Made His light shine in our hearts to give us the glorious light

Of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ

Embrace Jesus as your loving Savior and experience newness of life.

If you liked what you read, check out A New Earth - Connect with Your Creator & Experience Endless Awakenings
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I Know The Times You Suffer

By Sue Lueck Carlson

I know the times you suffer. I know the times you're sad.

I know the times life beats you up. I know the times you're mad.

I know the times your heart is broke. I know you cry at night.

I know the loneliness you feel. I know when things aren't right.

I know the passions of your heart. I know how hard you try.

I know the times you're down and out. I know you want to die.

I also know what lies ahead. I know the peace you'll feel.

I know that you will smile again. I know your heart will heal.

I know it's hard to live on earth. I know one day you'll see.

I know you'll understand the pain. I know you'll come to me.

Now it's time for you to know how much I love you still.

I never left you in bad times. Please know I never will.

I will hold you through the rough times.

I will wipe each tear you cry.

There is so much good around you - choose to live and not to die.

Just know that up ahead awaits the reason for the pain.

The only way a flower grows is from the falling rain.

Now be at peace and smile for me. These words are just for you.

I love you, Child. Your new day's begun.

Hold on! I'll see you through.


God wants you to know how much you are needed on this earth. There are things that only you can do. He knows you are struggling right now but if you hold on, you will see things in a different light.
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Thursday, May 8, 2008

Love and Walls

By Thandiwe Mapi

Love and walls

Walls, intended to bring security
Walls to ensure of no scrutiny
Walls to keep us unscathed
Walls so unbreakable, and so inviting

Walls built without knowing
Of owner's knowledge
Causing uncertainty, leading to destitute
Tall and rigid,
For all to notice,
Without quivering

Why walls and tomorrows
Why an order of things with love.

Security and comfort I seek
Unbreakable it should be,
But dear Lord, let I not deprive any being
Let I encompass,
In my sanctuary

Let me furnish love openly and wall-lessly
Let me value nature
In case I forget how to adore, let me eternally
Learn the joys of loving.

T. Mapi

My heart

I think of all the colours of sorrow
I see black as the intense colour of sorrow
I see life as rejecting of my contribution
I see only grey skies, no birds singing lullabies

I cry and mourn, ask why
I look deep within and find whys
I see a helpless heart thumping for the sake of it
I look hard into my heart
I then inform myself to get up

My heart leads the way to getting me up
With my heart I learn to crawl, get up
Because my heart won't give up
I have learnt to do likewise
As long as I live, I love my heart

T. Mapi

Never too far

Hills and mountains
Rivers and oceans
Towns and cities
Faces and characters
All these amid us
But we are never too far

Hours to days
Days to weeks
Weeks to months
Months to years
Without seeing us
No tremendous moments to share
Yet, we are never too far

Hearts matted jointly
In the equivalent bit
In the identical strength
Hearts thumping as one
Giving a pledge that
We are never too far...

We are never too far
Because we part to convene
To share and live life as shaped for us
Mountains and oceans are of no significance
We are, and we always will be never too far...

T. Mapi

About author: My Name is Thandiwe Mapi, i am not a poet but i love poetry and i believe in the sense it makes to unravel things. I believe in love and its importance in grooming us into who we are. My poetry might not have the necessary rhime that is required in poetry but it puts forward my feelings about that particular topic, in most cases it is love.
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Saturday, May 3, 2008

For A Sunday Afternoon

By Dennis Siluk Ed.D.

1) The Sun, and Coffee at Starbucks

The sun has no door today-but it's looking for one;
its face is in the window-slightly, it has white bright
knuckles this afternoon-
It drags its Sunday rays along the profile of my face.
The trees outside, from where I sit, across from me
through the window,
are porky-pine green, and beyond those, are peach
colored balconies.
I'm at 'Starbucks,' Benavides: the walls have long
stretched out pictures, of a weird coffee pot,
tables, circles, coffee cups, and musical things, things
like horns and notes, and so forth...!
My latte is strong, I like it like that, and I sip on it,
while reading: Shelley, Dylan Thomas, and Plath.

There are no clouds today in Lima, just mist from the
ocean, mixed into the atmosphere, a lazy
lazy mist at that; a stiff and thick kind of mist, like
soup-with slow moving feet, for I can see patches
of blue beyond it, and the sun, the sun I so love
seeping through a porthole or two, still looking for
that door.

#2362 4-27-2008

2) Intrusion (Poetic Prose, and Confessional Poetry)

When I was a young man, I was likened to terrified fish, an alcoholic that is what I was back then, not how I wanted to be. It is forty-years now. I know now I was better off with no father, thus, I had to row my way to where I am today, through a generation of vipers. Mother was always fearful I'd become nothing more than driftwood, but thick salt kept me up, and I didn't know (floating just above my neck). My mother and brother were happy (perhaps the only ones) when I somehow slipped through the keyhole and finally opened the shut door and joined the opposite continents. A late bloomer you might say.

visit Dennis site.
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Man On Fire; If I Walked With You In The Garden

By Peter Ponzio

Man on Fire

Red flames descend from the sky,
Burning into the depths of his eyes,
And crackle as they engulf his hair,
In tongues of fire.

The eyes, the eyes, stare out in
Placid indifference, while all around
Tongues of flame lick at the very air
Combusting in the night.

No stars here; no limned moon;
No serene reflections on the fiery
Pools below; only fire and burning,
And passion sleeping in those lidded eyes.

Saint or madman? Artist or lunatic?
Does it matter to a man on fire?
Can mere words express the desire
That fanned the flames into a conflagration,

And set the canvas alight? Oh, I long
For a flame to consume my desire,
To quench the thirst of my longing,
To plunge headfirst into the flames

That destroy all conscious thought,
All empty lies, all words written on
Cracked parchment. I long for the
Purity of fire, the peace of flames.


If I walked with you in the Garden

If I walked with you in the garden,
Like Adam or Ezekiel, or your friend
Enoch, I would not ask you why.
Instead I'd thank you for the
World you made, for the stars
In the skies, the birds of the
Air, the fish of the sea, and all
The creatures that abound there.
And I'd ask your help to preserve
These things, so that we don't
Destroy in one selfish moment
What took you six days to build.

If I walked with you in the garden,
I'd ask that you make man's
Burden light enough to bear;
That you give us strength to accept
What we must, and courage to do
What must be done. I'd ask that
You give us wisdom, so that we
Could be as merciful to one
Another, as you are to us.
I'd ask that you grant us tolerance
So that we stop the senseless
Bloodshed that masquerades
As belief in you.

If I walked with you in the garden,
I'd show you my heart, and ask
That you repair it, so that
I could always do what you require.
I'd ask for a song to sing so
That men might remember their
True calling, and not the vain
Lusting after things to make
Them forget.

And when at last my time draws near,
I hope that I have done enough with
What I've been given, that I be
Allowed to walk with you in the garden.

About Author

Peter Ponzio, the author of Children of the Night, is a CPA with over 30 years experience in Corporate Finance, holding positions as divergent as Treasurer, VP of Sales Administration, Vice President of IT, and General Manager of an internet start-up company in the late 1990s, and CFO at a subsidiary of a Fortune 100 company.

Mr. Ponzio graduated with a degree in English literature from Loyola University of Chicago, and is currently attending Northwestern University in pursuit of an MA in Literature.

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Friday, February 8, 2008

Fading In The Dark

Fading in the dark;
Only you are watching helplessly so far
Will you come closer or just stay and watch?
I will know if the time comes.

The life-cycle of love, the chain of love,
Or maybe you never lock with me.
Sadness comes to my heart as the time is coming,
No wall no raing but you still not come,
what I can here is the word "SORRY".
But that is enough.
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Saturday, January 12, 2008

Days of Me

Days of Me

When people say they miss me,

I think how much I miss me too,

Me, the old me, the great me,

Lover of three women in one day,

Modest me, the best me, friend

To waiters and bartenders, hearty

Laugher and name rememberer,

Proud me, handsome and hirsute

In soccer shoes and shorts

On the ball fields behind MIT,

Strong me in a weightbelt at the gym,

Mutual sweat dripper in and out

Of the sauna, furtive observer

Of the coeducated and scantily clad,

Speedy me, cyclist of rivers,

Goose and peregrine falcon

Counter, all season venturer,

Chatterer-up of corner cops,

Groundskeepers, mothers with strollers,

Outwitter of panhandlers and bill

Collectors, avoider of levies, excises,

Me in a taxi in the rain,

Pressing my luck all the way home.

That’s me at the dice table, baby,

Betting come, little Joe, and yo,

Blowing the coals, laying thunder,

My foot on top a fifty dollar chip

Some drunk spilled on the floor,

Dishonest me, evener of scores,

Eager accepter of the extra change,

Hotel towel pilferer, coffee spoon

Lifter, fervent retailer of others’

Fumor, blackhearted gossiper,

Poisoner at the well, dweller

In unsavory detail, delighted sayer

Of the vulgar, off course belier

Of the true me, empiric builder

Newly haircutted, stickerer-up

For pals, jam unpriser, medic

To the self-inflicted, attorney

To the self-indicted, petty accountant

And keeper of the double books,

Great divider of the universe

And all its forms of existence

Into its relationship to me,

Fellow trembler to the future,

Thin air gawker, apprehender

Of the frameless door.

-Stuart Dischell
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In a pulse

In a pulse
In the way
my heart quickens
in a pang,
in a desperate left-turn sidestep
whirling girliganhula crazy
absence
what are you finding?
Behind your couch,
in candles blown out

I am finding pieces of you
wrapped up in old socks
held together
with mangy hair-ties,
in between a particle of dust
and a dead fly’s abandoned leg
you are there
or more, what you were
and what you passed to me -
with a sense of martyrdom & legacy-
is becoming slowly my self-awareness,
my left-turn right-march
falling on the floorjump up dedication,
my striveand drive

and yes,
In a pulse
In the way my heart quickens
I hear what you taught meand can no longer uphold,
urging
me onwards
and up.

via pizazzwriting.wordpress.com
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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Poem for peace

Our nation’s innocence is lost,Stolen by acts of hate.

Helpless people paid the cost,For them it is too late.

Daughters, sons, husbands, wives,Sisters, friends and brothers.

All of them have lost their lives,To senseless acts of others.
New York’s city has been defaced.Bodies lay in rubble.

They can never be replaced.But war won’t end our trouble.


Angers only escalate,As we point out the guilt.

Violence will perpetuate.While we dig through the silt,
Cries of anger, cries for war,Echo in the air.

As if our bombs and missiles soar,It will make it fair.
People claim “eye for an eye”Our nation wants to fight.

If their innocent people die,Then will that make US right?
Punishment surely must take place.These murderers must pay.

But they are groups and not a race.Keep liberty in mind, each day.
We are people of goodwill,Of truth and love and light.

Please give thought before you kill,Take heed before you fight.
We ask, what do we tell our children?

How do we give them ease?

Reactions set examples for them,

Should we not teach them peace?


By Tammy Kane


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Ulysses By Alfred Lord Tennyson

“I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone…
I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known - cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments…
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet experience is an arch where through
Gleams that untraveled world, whose margin fades
Forever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!..
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought…
Come, my friends,
‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
For my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

Ulysses
By Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Friday, December 14, 2007

Poem to say that I love you

Why I want you even it may never know
will I fire my heart.
You mean to me more than the lovely sky
no matter where I am it still in the hand of sky.

From the dark sky to the heavy rain,
no matter what I still in the sky.
Never think about the hardness it has come
I still happily in the hand of your sky.
Yet the silent still come.

I am thinking that in a moment of neglect
I might fly from this silent sky,
augh in the eyes of the man who like a sky
and beside you begin life anew.

The silent make me think this way
yet I dare not to make my way of the sky
even you wish me to be.

From behind the bars, every bright morning
the look of a child smile in my face;
when I begin a song of joy,
his lips come toward me with a kiss.

O sky, if I want one day
to fly from your silent,
what shall I say to the weeping child's eyes,
forget about me, for I am captive bird?
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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Unforgotten friend

Memory is still on

when i last saw your face

when i last heard you laugh

when i last called your name

Remember when

I was at your last party

I helped you with your homework

we played in your yard

its been so long

since we held hands

since i saw your smile

since i didnt miss you

since i saw you-alive.

May this thing won't happen agian to anyone....


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Up and down feeling

Lovely like a moon

Bringing little light to the world

Looking like the ideal life she is having.

Will anyone read the inside world

Lasting the whole night alone

Make a sleep by tear

Turning up once again

Wearing the dam mask all again

Predending to the world

Leaving laugh and light.

The secret that deep down in the pot

Unable to share, unable to express

Misery, will you leave the life ot the little girl alone

If you are a girl having problem that you can't find a way to say and express while you need to pretend that you are happy, what will be the best way to do?


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