And You cannot without I.
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Midnight’s children,
Stitched and re-stitched,Dream children of Partition,India being partitionedAnd they seeing,The ragged and the commonersWith so much bewilderment and disgust.
The communists play with power and politics
As a tiger plays with a goatAnd a cat with a rat.They make a joke and mockeryOf appointment and posting,Even an illiterateOr a labourerCan be made the chairman,The schoolteacher can beThe home minister of India.They just value their secretaries,Their words the last saysIn consultation with comrades and cadresLooking into the organization,The mother organization,Nurturing it from…
ISKCON temples,
Devotees,Bhaktas,Krishna-bhaktasSinging, dancing,GoingLost in bhakti,Bhakti, devotion,Consciousness,Krishna consciousness,Krishna consciousness,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama-Rama,Krishna-Krishna,The people of Krishna Movement,Krishna ConsciousnessSinging, dancingGetting lost inKrishna consciousness,Krishna bhakti,Movement for Krishna,Krishna-Krishna,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Krishna-Krishna,Rama-Rama.
For politics,
Selfishness,Vested interests,ImperialismOr expansionism,PatriotismOr nationalism,To call a man a manIs my job.
The way they have gone away
Taking to the sameBare-footed, empty-handed.
Is a poet artistic,
As poetry turns into his handsPure poetry,Poetry for poetry’s sake,Poetry for artistic delightHolding dialogues with Buddha,Rehearsing into the theatre of silence,Putting words on fire.
You sang, I sang
We were a single melody.
We shared sweet smiles,
You were the lips, I was the smile.
In times of tears
You held me close to you
You wiped my tears
I held your hand.
You were the flesh, I was the skin.
The golden sun smiled,
you were the gold, I was the light.
You hugged me, I caressed you.
You were the fingers, I was the body.
When the songbird sang in our hearts
You were one wing, I was the other wing.
We were two candles but one flame.
I was the sparkling sea,
You were the ripples.
You sing, I sing
We are a single melody
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Think of
before the Fallinginto sinful disobedienceloosing the joy of paradiseafter the fall, andat the resurrectionof the dead.
We silently
lot of pain.We are rejected.Rejection is so painful.Even those whomwe trusted cheat.The terrible memoryof such experiencesare haunting us.Touch our silent heartsfull of sorrow with yourever loving hands and heal us.(Graphic: Sonja Rotha gerettet, um Gebete – Gebete Pinterest)
God knows you
know yourself.He knows your thoughts.He knows your worries.with your worry can youever change a grey hairinto black of blond?The One who created youknows also your needs.He will provide for you.Pray and work hard.God comes to you.Believe. Do not waste time.
Psychologically,
reported higherlevels of forgiveness,they also tendedto report betterhealth habitsand decreaseddepression, anxiety,and anger levels.
Once we descend
and enter and discoverthe awareness of ourown existence,we see and realizea new vantage pointfrom which we gazeout at the worldas if for the first time,only to see andunderstand thatHe ‘who is’ communicatesto everything that is created,His own infinite actuality.
By the word ofGod
All creation obeyes his will.As the sun makes the wholecreation shine in its light,the work of God is full of glory.When we speak of God’s marvelswe become holy in our praise.The universe stands firm in God’s glory.Great is my God, great in majesty.(Leaning on the book of Ecclesiasticus in Holy Bible) .Psalm 147: 5 Bible…
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things are
the way they are…
no, we didnt invade
Iraq and Afghanistan,
but we voted for
the clowns that ordained
these actions…
or, even worse,
didnt vote at all.
no, we didnt cause
the big oil spill…
yet by our reckless
consuming lifestyles,
driving our big SUV’s
going nowhere…
maybe we did!
no, we didnt cause
the disaster in Haiti,
the hurricane in New Orleans,
the Japanese nuclear disaster…
but what have we done
to help fix these problems?
no, we didnt tell the banks
to foreclose on all these houses…
but we stood by doing nothing
while our government bailed
them out… and their CEO’s
drew their bonuses….
no, we didnt tell them
to cut social security
and medicare, to cut
educational aid…
but we sit and watch
while the elite do their thing,
and pay no taxes…
you and i,
standing by, doing nothing,
saying nothing, not getting
involved…
you and i
are the reason
things are
the way they are…
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I carried the cross of Jesus,
i fled with many at Hiroshima,died again and again in the junglesof napalm Vietnam…i buried the scattered bonesof Native Americans,slain by the Bible’s swords.i rotted in a Chinese prison,where they tortured me with cattle prods.i marched the famines of Africa,weeping over the bodies of children.marching the sands of Iraq,the mountains of Afghanistan…but there is more!the…
how many deaths
how many times left aloneon some nameless shore,watching the storm carrymy boat off to sea?how many blackbirds deadbeneath the tree?if i die inside of youwill you remember my name?or am i just an old coathanging in the back of the closet?a hat your grandfather wore….a deck of cards forgotten in a drawer….a spider’s web clinging…
rolling over handprints,cobwebs, and smoke stains….over splashes of color,over peels of time.painting over the soundsof voices whispering, laughing….painting over tears hiddenfrom the world, from each other.painting over running, and working,working all day and half the night.painting over children, and dreams,folded like old clothes, and put away.painting over notes from God,that were often barely noticed…painting over…
i weep when you weep,
i hurt when you hurt.i bleed when you bleed.i need when you need.i thirst when you thirst.i am alone when you are alone.i am angry when you are angry.i am broken when you are broken.i am tired when you are tired.and i will always be there,feeling what you feel,living what you live,until suffering is removed…do…
they broke down the Berlin wall
..the…wall….around……your heart,much tougher!hammer breaks stone,..it takes love….to break down fear,and compassion…to break down………..apathy!
pole shift?
or just the soundof the screen door banging,when you walked out of my heart?my finger feels nakedwhen i wake up inthe middle of the night….and the wind blowing the curtainstells me it’s true!
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That Love is our obsession,
Yes,
I know,
I love you so,
My life is your possession.
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And.
As,An open woundNo love, no tiesNo sharingBeautiful,Sunrise,Only darkness,And sad sighs,As the lonely moonWent, silently,Lifelessly, byAnd long lasting tearsFilled,The heart and the eyes.
Let Love’s poetry
Elevate the spiritThat is free,Give us wingsOf beauty, kindness tooLike miracles of inner lightThat are born in me and you, .Let Poetry give Life,That special toneReaching soul,Dispersing, frightKnowing that LoveHas stronger, might.Than all the evil,That we ever fight.Poetry,A symphony of words,Treasures that belong to AllCelestial music, beauty’s call,Won’t disappear, or even stallFirst literary words,The world…
The essence of language is Poetry,
Makes not out of words a mere mockery,Opens Worlds that are heard in sonority.
Is Poetry
Some might say‘Yes’, not worth a dimeBut breathing, thinking’Loving too,May not produce,Great wealth for youYet necessary are,And so is PoetryFor those who dreamAnd live,Reaching, for the Stars.
A very good painting,
But even without it,It would be the same.And people are like that,What counts is inside,The person, the spirit,The feeling, the pride.The Frame and the Painting,Befit you so well,You’re perfect, I love you,By now, can’t you tell?
Think if you can,
We think we have a brain,But when used,It resemble more a tiny grain,That when planted does not seem,To go too far,Man is the only animal,That hits himself against,The same obstacle, more than once,And doesn’t seem to see the stars,If you have a chance,Think about it,For we are more stupid,Than we think we are or look,Even…
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Such heart throbbing poetry,
Together,
But it was not meant to be,
Too early for you,
Too late for me
Time is the great divider,
Even for those fancy free.
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Concerned, good people of the World,
Fight poverty and ignoranceAnd vision turned, bad circumstanceThat bring on pain, dictator’s holdBe brave, be firm, be good, be bold.Fight evil men, the Misanthropes,Those that take us for constant dopesThat put the world in danger stillTo exercise their Evil will.And then, make sure you fight for Peace,For understanding and love’s leaseTry to eliminate all War,All…
Up and up the hill we went,
Now we are on straight free fall,Losing Country, reaching small,Lying, cheating, muddy crawlIs there no shame left at all?
People are fools,
They follow False OnesAs sheep,They have been easily,RuledBy the Charisma of SharksThus being drowned,In naiveté’s poolsWhere ignorance rules.
This week,
With Rachmaninoff,I have his piano concertos,Playing in my head,They push me forward,Help me get ahead,Help me stay alive,In an ugly world,Of Love, deprived,I go around humming,The great melodies,All those that are near,Think I have lost my mindAnd therefore they fear,My ‘contagious desease’:To Love Music, ArtAnd Live as I please.
How thrilling can a Painting be?
To paint a Scene that has the flair,To make you feel that you are There.
That magic touch
It’s not only talentBut flareThe way of saying thingsThat deeply, movesAnd lights,Brilliant torchesEverywhereAnd bravely does dareTo thinkBeyond, the blue horizonLifting Poetry,To that Transparent Region,Of love and careWhere, at immortalityIt stares.
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And breath and hug the Sea,
We hear Its sound,
Its movement, found,
Night after night,
Hypnotic mystery.
Oh, to be Free,
And sail the night,
In our ship,
‘The Fantasy’,
And there remain,
Never return,
To cruel reality
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The eloquent sunset,
The ocean that once saidCome with me, be freeHas lost all its blueness,Its strong liberty,Now trapped in the sadnessThe unprepared madnessOf having to beAlone, in the darknessOf this painful litany,That repeats and repeatsOver and over and overAgain,Love, so hard to appearCan simply one dayAlso, disappear.
There isn’t a day
All the good youTaught me,Up front,With, all the good thingsYou forced me to doWhen I did not want to.Yes, I am still meBut you, Mother dear,Led me to clear pasturesAnd opened sincere skiesWhere, thanks to youI humbly became,What you wanted me to.
What makes One fight
I suppose we’re all different,But beware of thoseWho have no Insight,And practice,Intolerance and ignorance,We just cannot write about itAnd turn the other cheekOr accept defeatThere, we are obliged to fight,And Win,The line to disaster is so thin.
Some poems have a fragrance,
True felt musical cadenceA magical, sweet radianceThat sets them far above.
There’s always time
May it be dayOr lonely night,And have a dreamOr two,Of love, concerning,YouFor in my dreamsYou come aliveAnd all desires,Thrive.
Like,
Poetry attracts,Does not disguiseFeelings that lie,Way Within.We known notWhen or whereIt starts,These trembling dartsOf loving win,Nor how they canDescribe so wellSo many secret tiesAttached, hiddenWay within,Nor how it can.This epic standExtend a loveThat never diesBut must illuminateThe skies,With a force,That only PoetryCan play and winFrom way within.