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PostPosted: Thu May 26, 2011 11:03 pm 
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Location: Near Boston, MA, USA Worth a look? I don't know poetry but I know it Moved Me :)

PostPosted: Fri May 27, 2011 7:50 am 
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This old gem from William Wordsworth:

"The World Is Too Much With Us"

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; (1)
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, (2)
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus (3) rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton (4) blow his wreathed horn. ... worth.html

Last edited by Montana on Sat May 28, 2011 7:49 am, edited 4 times in total.

PostPosted: Fri May 27, 2011 8:40 am 
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Quote: Worth a look? I don't know poetry but I know it Moved Me :)
this is exquisite

LOVE is the answer


PostPosted: Thu Jun 16, 2011 1:01 am 
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Another one from a long time ago

No Longer Hides

The wall I see, in attempt to sleep,
Where dancing thoughts create a dream,
Upon which I can peek.
In attempt to rise, I awake and sigh,
And pray, a glance, a simple chance,
To look within her eyes.
Around my heart,
My thoughts are wisped, in gusts,
From my wary mind.
But my heart, it laughs,
At this attempt,
For it knows not of time.
How familiar it is,
This warmth that burns inside,
As is if she was a missing piece,
To the puzzle of my life,
That which I knew of long ago,
But now no longer hides.

Also, here are two versus from a mason Jennings song that always seem to make me smile:
from Bhikku


Each new night at the the same old time
The lake gets drunk on the moon
And the willow trees on the water line
Sweep them gently back like brooms

And up on the porch the light still shines
From the kindness you've shown
As long as I'm part of this symphony
Know that you are not alone

-"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find... you get what you need"

PostPosted: Sun Jun 26, 2011 4:57 am 
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I haven't been to this thread in a while but I'm really glad its here. As my mood has stabilized a bit I thought I would share a few excepts from my poetry book that I am in the midst of trying to sort out. All of these are brand new pieces that no one else has seen and could be considered still under construction. If you have comments or hints about how they could be clarified better I'm all Eyes. But don't feel obligated to comment....BUT YOU CAN!


Chasing My Tale
I grew so tired of chasing my Tale
Trying to find my solution
Without going stale
I am forever what I always was
I see from some eyes all but my point of view
I need to listen more to nothing
So that something emerges beyond
My silly false understanding of myself
The I has IT
The eye is where I originate
The blend of color into the black abyss
From the white through to the iris
I admit I’m the pupil

My mistakes have made me whole
I see the error of my soul
To strive for only the gracious
And avoid the devil inside
Makes for boring drama
And serious comedy
The good, the bad and the ugly
Makes a world of sense to the senses
But ugly can be good or bad depending on where you stand your attention
I am ugly to those who seek more
I am beautiful to those who no longer seek
I am my own prize
Inside is my out/in and my way is good/evil
I like to strike a balance that moves The Everything
Your devil showed me that I am not less
And from him I learned that seeking never got me anywhere
I don’t have an answer for the followers anything
My answer is myself

The Surprise
If I set this up I did it to beat myself
There is only this game
Once I was wading in the waters of Life
Today I am the life
My ego is my battle and my sword
I walk unto the darkness where the light will score
I am now as jovial as the next guy
When we finally realize
We like to see the surprise


As I ride high on my own aspects
Those around me are in grieving
For the person who agreed with them
My name is what it always was
And yet they say I am not myself
I played my character until my mask waned in the light
I see the NOW and I avoid trying anymore
What is IS. I have only sought to find
The seeking never was needed to be myself

Moods vary with the sun beaming
Moods vary in the night
I can’t make my head see light within
But my chakras seem to illuminate beneath my skin
Where are the parameters? The lines
That fell away while I was trying so hard
How do I measure the eternal time?
And why do I try when I’m confined?
Break away long enough to hear the song of life
A brief utterance then back to skin and bones
Why do I only feel the twinge when I’m alone

I Will Always

I will always be here
No matter what they say
I will always be here
No matter what they think and do
Death is just a word that never comes true

So I may leave my body relative to you
I will just move on here and dream a dream or two
Nay Sayers may try to bring me down
"You know, You know, Y know” is what I heard
My eyes were closed and my ears were plugged
But within the still I heard it
I may have doubted in the past that I could withstand time
Perhaps I never contributed much to this world absurd

I was with you to find a better me
I hope you found yourself in some bits and pieces
I just don’t want to change the world but I could stand to change myself
I find the means of liking me is not as easy as liking someone else
I might give up
And you might see me pretend to die
Its so fashionable to make that scene at some point in life
For better and maybe worse I am identified
As the laborer in the garden where the past is just a blur
Remembering my words and I am here

The Last Fear

There’s always a little apprehension
If I feel better than the average man
It’s beyond my loved ones comprehension
But I have to ask at times who I am

My faith is no priority
My life gives me pause on purpose
I don’t feel anyone gets seniority
Give what you can when you can I propose

I may linger in a mood someone says is good
It’s not who I am, but that guy gets misunderstood
So often I am forced to complain
Once I do the populace pulls the reins

Today I’m feeling capable
I’ve changed myself in many ways
Some are more than simply palpable
I don’t take my moods lightly anymore
Something pulls at my inner child
And before I can say Jack Robinson
My antics bring to life my wild side
I walk this path with some understanding
For the part that I will play
Sometimes it feels like pandering
If I keep myself from getting my way


Life can be a battlefield or a beautiful thing
No one else knows what its like to be inside your big bang
Don’t look for comfort within that meat between your two big ears
Drop that search down to your heart and put yourself in gear!

Cause you’ve got everything you need to make a perfect life
If I can make mine day by day then I’ll be satisfied
The wonders of the universe are laying at your feet
So don’t let that brain of yours work on your take you down in defeat

You are not your body boy
Take that to the bank
When I pass on from here
Let it fuel your tank and stay cool

You’re more than just your mind
Get in touch with your own big bang
And release yourself from the prison
We’re all forming in time

Radical ideas can be a blessing or a curse
Look at how they laugh at us
But they’re gonna see things get so much worse

Life can be a battlefield or a beautiful thing
No one else knows what its like to be inside your big bang
Don’t look for comfort within that meat between your two big ears
Drop that search down to your heart and put yourself in gear!

"All the world's a Stage and all the men and women merely players, They have their exits and their entrances and ONE man in his time plays many parts, his acts beings Heaven ages"---Shakespeare

PostPosted: Fri Jul 01, 2011 12:39 pm 
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Song of the Open Road
By Walt Whitman
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.

Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.

The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.

(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.)

You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all that is here,
I believe that much unseen is also here.

Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial,
The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas’d, the illiterate person, are not denied;
The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar’s tramp, the drunkard’s stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,
The escaped youth, the rich person’s carriage, the fop, the eloping couple,

The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the town, the return back from the town,
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted,
None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.

You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.

You flagg’d walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!
You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined sides! you distant ships!

You rows of houses! you window-pierc’d façades! you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!
You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!
You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!
From all that has touch’d you I believe you have imparted to yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces, and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.

The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road.

O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?
Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost?
Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied, adhere to me?

O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,
You express me better than I can express myself,
You shall be more to me than my poem.

I think heroic deeds were all conceiv’d in the open air, and all free poems also,
I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,
I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever beholds me shall like me,
I think whoever I see must be happy.

From this hour I ordain myself loos’d of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently,but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that would hold me.
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.

I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.

All seems beautiful to me,
I can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.

Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me,
Now if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear’d it would not astonish me.

Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons,
It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.

Here a great personal deed has room,
(Such a deed seizes upon the hearts of the whole race of men,
Its effusion of strength and will overwhelms law and mocks all authority and all argument against it.)

Here is the test of wisdom,
Wisdom is not finally tested in schools,
Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it to another not having it,
Wisdom is of the soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
Applies to all stages and objects and qualities and is content,
Is the certainty of the reality and immortality of things, and the excellence of things;
Something there is in the float of the sight of things that provokes it out of the soul.

Now I re-examine philosophies and religions,
They may prove well in lecture-rooms, yet not prove at all under the spacious clouds and along the landscape and flowing currents.

Here is realization,
Here is a man tallied—he realizes here what he has in him,
The past, the future, majesty, love—if they are vacant of you, you are vacant of them.

Only the kernel of every object nourishes;
Where is he who tears off the husks for you and me?
Where is he that undoes stratagems and envelopes for you and me?

Here is adhesiveness, it is not previously fashion’d, it is apropos;
Do you know what it is as you pass to be loved by strangers?
Do you know the talk of those turning eye-balls?

Here is the efflux of the soul,
The efflux of the soul comes from within through embower’d gates, ever provoking questions,
These yearnings why are they? these thoughts in the darkness why are they?
Why are there men and women that while they are nigh me the sunlight expands my blood?
Why when they leave me do my pennants of joy sink flat and lank?
Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?
(I think they hang there winter and summer on those trees and always drop fruit as I pass;)
What is it I interchange so suddenly with strangers?
What with some driver as I ride on the seat by his side?
What with some fisherman drawing his seine by the shore as I walk by and pause?
What gives me to be free to a woman’s and man’s good-will? what gives them to be free to mine?

The efflux of the soul is happiness, here is happiness,
I think it pervades the open air, waiting at all times,
Now it flows unto us, we are rightly charged.

Here rises the fluid and attaching character,
The fluid and attaching character is the freshness and sweetness of man and woman,
(The herbs of the morning sprout no fresher and sweeter every day out of the roots of themselves, than it sprouts fresh and sweet continually out of itself.)

Toward the fluid and attaching character exudes the sweat of the love of young and old,
From it falls distill’d the charm that mocks beauty and attainments,
Toward it heaves the shuddering longing ache of contact.

Allons! whoever you are come travel with me!
Traveling with me you find what never tires.

The earth never tires,
The earth is rude, silent, incomprehensible at first, Nature is rude and incomprehensible at first,
Be not discouraged, keep on, there are divine things well envelop’d,
I swear to you there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.

Allons! we must not stop here,
However sweet these laid-up stores, however convenient this dwelling we cannot remain here,
However shelter’d this port and however calm these waters we must not anchor here,
However welcome the hospitality that surrounds us we are permitted to receive it but a little while.

Allons! the inducements shall be greater,
We will sail pathless and wild seas,
We will go where winds blow, waves dash, and the Yankee clipper speeds by under full sail.

Allons! with power, liberty, the earth, the elements,
Health, defiance, gayety, self-esteem, curiosity;
Allons! from all formules!
From your formules, O bat-eyed and materialistic priests.

The stale cadaver blocks up the passage—the burial waits no longer.

Allons! yet take warning!
He traveling with me needs the best blood, thews, endurance,
None may come to the trial till he or she bring courage and health,
Come not here if you have already spent the best of yourself,
Only those may come who come in sweet and determin’d bodies,
No diseas’d person, no rum-drinker or venereal taint is permitted here.

(I and mine do not convince by arguments, similes, rhymes,
We convince by our presence.)

Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call’d riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call’d by an irresistible call to depart,
You shall be treated to the ironical smiles and mockings of those who remain behind you,
What beckonings of love you receive you shall only answer with passionate kisses of parting,
You shall not allow the hold of those who spread their reach’d hands toward you.

Allons! after the great Companions, and to belong to them!
They too are on the road—they are the swift and majestic men—they are the greatest women,
Enjoyers of calms of seas and storms of seas,
Sailors of many a ship, walkers of many a mile of land,
Habituès of many distant countries, habituès of far-distant dwellings,
Trusters of men and women, observers of cities, solitary toilers,
Pausers and contemplators of tufts, blossoms, shells of the shore,
Dancers at wedding-dances, kissers of brides, tender helpers of children, bearers of children,
Soldiers of revolts, standers by gaping graves, lowerers-down of coffins,
Journeyers over consecutive seasons, over the years, the curious years each emerging from that which preceded it,
Journeyers as with companions, namely their own diverse phases,
Forth-steppers from the latent unrealized baby-days,
Journeyers gayly with their own youth, journeyers with their bearded and well-grain’d manhood,
Journeyers with their womanhood, ample, unsurpass’d, content,
Journeyers with their own sublime old age of manhood or womanhood,
Old age, calm, expanded, broad with the haughty breadth of the universe,
Old age, flowing free with the delicious near-by freedom of death.

Allons! to that which is endless as it was beginningless,
To undergo much, tramps of days, rests of nights,
To merge all in the travel they tend to, and the days and nights they tend to,
Again to merge them in the start of superior journeys,
To see nothing anywhere but what you may reach it and pass it,
To conceive no time, however distant, but what you may reach it and pass it,
To look up or down no road but it stretches and waits for you, however long but it stretches and waits for you,
To see no being, not God’s or any, but you also go thither,
To see no possession but you may possess it, enjoying all without labor or purchase, abstracting the feast yet not abstracting one particle of it,
To take the best of the farmer’s farm and the rich man’s elegant villa, and the chaste blessings of the well-married couple, and the fruits of orchards and flowers of gardens,
To take to your use out of the compact cities as you pass through,
To carry buildings and streets with you afterward wherever you go,
To gather the minds of men out of their brains as you encounter them, to gather the love out of their hearts,
To take your lovers on the road with you, for all that you leave them behind you,
To know the universe itself as a road, as many roads, as roads for traveling souls.

All parts away for the progress of souls,
All religion, all solid things, arts, governments—all that was or is apparent upon this globe or any globe, falls into niches and corners before the procession of souls along the grand roads of the universe.

Of the progress of the souls of men and women along the grand roads of the universe, all other progress is the needed emblem and sustenance.

Forever alive, forever forward,
Stately, solemn, sad, withdrawn, baffled, mad, turbulent, feeble, dissatisfied,
Desperate, proud, fond, sick, accepted by men, rejected by men,
They go! they go! I know that they go, but I know not where they go,
But I know that they go toward the best—toward something great.

Whoever you are, come forth! or man or woman come forth!
You must not stay sleeping and dallying there in the house, though you built it, or though it has been built for you.

Out of the dark confinement! out from behind the screen!
It is useless to protest, I know all and expose it.

Behold through you as bad as the rest,
Through the laughter, dancing, dining, supping, of people,
Inside of dresses and ornaments, inside of those wash’d and trimm’d faces,
Behold a secret silent loathing and despair.

No husband, no wife, no friend, trusted to hear the confession,
Another self, a duplicate of every one, skulking and hiding it goes,
Formless and wordless through the streets of the cities, polite and bland in the parlors,
In the cars of railroads, in steamboats, in the public assembly,
Home to the houses of men and women, at the table, in the bedroom, everywhere,
Smartly attired, countenance smiling, form upright, death under the breast-bones, hell under the skull-bones,
Under the broadcloth and gloves, under the ribbons and artificial flowers,
Keeping fair with the customs, speaking not a syllable of itself,
Speaking of any thing else but never of itself.

Allons! through struggles and wars!
The goal that was named cannot be countermanded.

Have the past struggles succeeded?
What has succeeded? yourself? your nation? Nature?
Now understand me well—it is provided in the essence of things that from any fruition of success, no matter what, shall come forth something to make a greater struggle necessary.

My call is the call of battle, I nourish active rebellion,
He going with me must go well arm’d,
He going with me goes often with spare diet, poverty, angry enemies, desertions.

Allons! the road is before us!
It is safe—I have tried it—my own feet have tried it well—be not detain’d!

Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!
Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!
Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!
Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

Camerado, I give you my hand!
I give you my love more precious than money,
I give you myself before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

PostPosted: Fri Jul 01, 2011 1:26 pm 
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“Though leaves are many, the root is one;
Through all the lying days of my youth
I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun;
Now I may wither into the truth.”
~William Butler Yates~

LOVE is the answer


PostPosted: Tue Jul 19, 2011 1:22 pm 
Not exactly a poem, but more a song. I referenced this song "Dr. Everywhere" on another thread recently. Specifically here, down towards the bottom of my post: viewtopic.php?f=21&t=3629&start=45

These are the lyrics:

Dr. Everywhere

"I had a talk with my son, i asked him when you grow up... what is that you want to be, you wanna do?

I see you draw pretty fine, straighter than mine, you sing the songs that you hear, you got a good ear, tell me what's on your mind?

He said, 'Dad, i wanna be a doctor, doctor to everyone, i'll always be there, i'll be everywhere..'
Dr. Everywhere, Dr. Everywhere, Dr. Everywhere., Dr. Everywhere..

He talked of pain in this world, all the people that hurt, 'Daddy whose gonna care, show some concern..'

And it brought tears to my eyes, to see this 4 year old try to understand that we all have so much to learn and it's time we begin.

Chorus again/then ends.

And this is me singing the song Acapulco

PostPosted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 9:53 am 
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Some Sufi poetry for you.

By Rumi.

................... My head is bursting
......... with the joy of the unknown.
My heart is expanding a thousand fold.
............................ Every cell,
........................ taking wings,
................ flies about the world.
.................... All seek separately
............ the many faces of my love.

.............I wish I could give you a taste of
.....................the burning fire of Love.
...............................There is a fire
........................blazing inside of me.
.................If I cry about it, or if I don't,
...........................the fire is at work,
...............................night and day.
People make clothing to cover their intellect,
.......................but the heart of Lovers a shroud,
..............inflamed in golden hues of Love

Btw Ted, is it possible for you to add the "Center" BBcode?
[CENTER][/CENTER] BBcode first. Go to AdminCP > Posting > BBcodes > add a new BBcode
from ... -text.html

PostPosted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 2:36 pm 
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I love Rumi,

"If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?"
— Rumi

LOVE is the answer


PostPosted: Thu Jul 21, 2011 3:08 pm 
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I love Rumi,

"If you are irritated by every rub, how will you be polished?"
— Rumi
"Most people are still in the tumbler." :)

All That Is
what is?

PostPosted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 11:30 am 
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What's up my fellow streams of consciousness!

First post, I think...but I AM not sure...

Flood of poetry hit me like lightening one week ago, earth time.

Expressed in video form, here's Won!

BTW, My Big Toe is probably the greatest book I've ever read, twice!

Peace and freedom,

Lyrics, for those that don't wanna look at my shady mug!

Orange on the Watch Tower

Watch the orange juice or the vitamin will SEE you!

Nature put an orange on your plate, don't mean you should eat 8!

Insulin can go up and down, like a king who lost his crown.

I tell you the truth, an orange a day beautified MARY KAY!

So, Eat your oranges. Eat your kiwi. Your mangoes and papayas too...or three, can you keep up with me?

For in these fruits thou may find me, your body uses me for health. I'll fill you with glee, pad your vitality with wealth!

Vitamin C hristopher ;)

PostPosted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 11:40 am 
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Blackjack! 21 lines down, on your poetic expression.

Should I hope for a heaven or wait for a hell...

Hell always awaits you, but heaven is always right there with you.
Talked about doing this in another thread, and didn't really get too much feedback on it, therefore I've assumed that this won't be a big deal. I think it'd be cool to have this thread here, since it will add another dimension to our understanding of each other. So here it is, anyone who is brave enough or willing- please feel free to share your poetry, in whatever form it manifests itself. Let's not let this thread be one for intellectualizing, but for balancing that well lubricated left brain with a less tangible, less conceptual/concrete/fragmented form of knowingness and knowledge. Doesn't have to "makes sense" here people, to anyone but you- just do what feels right.

Here's one of mine from a few years back, before coming across Seth and MBT and all that good stuff.

-The Last Moment (of my Life) by Cole Randall-

In the moments before
the last breath that I breathe,
Will I know that I go
with no future to see?

Will I pray, will I cry-
Will the light in my eye-
Will it dim, will I swim-
in the blood that I lie?

Will I go in my sleep,
Will it come in a dream,
Would the life that I've lived
be as vain as it seems?

Will I fight it or freeze,
Will I struggle and pleade,
Will the kindness inside me
be all that I need?

Will they gather around me,
Will I say something great,
Will I whisper, "I Love You,"
Will I die without hate?

Should I hope for a heaven,
Or wait for a hell,
If I needed more time-
How much soul could I sell?

Will this all be a dream,
From which I will wake,
Will my death be a door
to a life that I make?

Will my soul find the solice,
That it needs to be free,
Will I cease to exist,
Will my maker be pleased?

In the moments before,
The last breath that I breathe,
I will know... I will know...
And I shall cease to believe!


PostPosted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 12:14 pm 
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Posts: 9999
Location: Ridgecrest, CA
Hi ChristopherAnthony and welcome to Tom's MBT discussion forums. It is a great book I concur. I also like oranges and the message of your work. :)
Love to you and yours,

All That Is
what is?

PostPosted: Fri Oct 28, 2011 4:57 pm 
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Joined: Tue Jun 07, 2011 11:36 pm
Posts: 47
Yes, Yes. Thank you, Bette.

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