Best Two Sides Of The Same Coin Poems
Life and death are two sides of the same coin
Yet we embrace the first and shun the last
But no matter which view of life we join
Death is something that surely will come to pass
So be mindful of this fact in living
And seek to enrich the quality of your life
Think carefully of what you are doing
And always seek to avoid needless strife
If you help others as you go along
The peace of mind from this will be your gain
And as mentioned in the words of the song
Surely your life would not have been in vain
Live your life in such a meaningful way
That gives contentment and satisfaction
So that when your death arrives you can say
Truly, my life was a mission well done
Intelligence and perception are two sides of the same coin.
What the human mind perceives is many dimensions.
Intellect is limited only by doubt and skepticism.
Knowing that we only use a small part of our brain-vessel; we eliminate so many possibilities.
Unlimited perception gathers knowledge and
increases intellect.
Denial is the ignorant man’s noose.
People claim that they believe in a God or Spirit,
all the while, denying the existence of any spirits.
Why do people want such finite baubles for brains?
Nickola Tesla gathered knowledge from perception;
Unknown realms offered him wisdom; grew his intellect; he was open and expanded his mind.
Albert Einstein’s brain-vessel knew many
of those same realms.
The dimensions he perceived were a joke to his colleagues;
though many are proven realities.
People live in a relative time yet,
finite minds are still thinking linear.
Finite minds in big business and governments try to stifle the infinite minds so all humans suffer.
Greed is the ultimate thief;
it keeps everyone trapped in non-movement; non-progress.
What our limited minds call “progress” is only stagnation, as a result, infinite minds perceive and despite their growth, suffer.
“Faith is believing in what you cannot see; the reward for that faith, is to see what you believe.”
This, Tesla and Einstein both knew.
Perception can open doors yet,
It is often squeezed out by the skeptics;
those self-limiting minds.
They are the uneducated-educated,
whose egos ignore real possibilities
in favor of, the probabilities;
the tangible is not all that exists.
The veil between worlds is old and tattered;
full of holes that allow us all to peek through and perceive what lies beyond.
Unfortunately, not everyone is curious.
I remember a young man of long ago,
I as fond of him as he the bow.
We thrived together, discovering astride,
grew into our own side by side.
I came for the archery, and stayed
for the friends - oh, the parts we played.
We shot, spoke, studied and strummed;
on my heart's strings the experience thrummed.
This companion's name intrigued sans surcease,
'til he told how Eirenikos means peace.
Greek it was, and Greek it was to me,
for anger ever flows within me with glee.
In spite of that, we teamed well, made a fine pair,
learned how to wear blade, bow and banter proud and fair.
Every event we could make it to cemented thus more;
there, I felt unfettered - normally, always at war.
Now here I sit, trying to keep his lessons in mind,
while to Dante's lands, for a spell, myself I've signed.
Amidst this strife, I long for those halcyon days,
to return to Eirenikos's eponymously equable ways.
Two sides of the same coin, were this bowman and I,
his name the chronic reminder - a better man is ever nigh.
In his world, myself I chose to engross;
striving to speak with the voice of Eirenikos.
Invert polarity
of mind-body with space,
that subject-object merge
in singularity,
giving rise to bliss surge.
Invert polarity
of fears and dark desires,
two sides of the same coin,
rooted in attachments ~
let’s with silence rejoin.
Invert polarity
by going in, within,
in thought rested stillness,
simply by letting go,
entwining with oneness.
Invert polarity,
by ceasing to resist,
making our heart porous,
receptive to God’s love,
felt as a bliss torus.
21-June-2022
Two sides of the same coin – the good and bad;
the dark and light; the yin and yang combined.
My future self, the history I’ve had.
My soul - the fulcrum of my heart and mind.
My friends believe that I’m too sensitive –
too hurt by words. But that same trait in me;
perceiving needs, entices me to give
to those same friends, who thank me graciously.
‘You’re patient to a fault’ – guilty as charged!
I wait till ancient plumbing floods my floor.
But when your sense of outrage gets enlarged,
you grasp what all that patience is here for.
Virtue and vice in bas relief I deem –
the winter’s frost becomes the summer’s stream.
Paradox and irony are after all
The two sides of the same coin.
Though I love irony and employ it
Often in my poetry, in life, I am actually
On the side of paradox.
It takes a little patience
To see irony turning into paradox ,
Like the caterpillar turning into a butterfly.
Otherwise I should end up in frustration.
I help someone, but it’s not reciprocated,
Not always, not certainly immediately.
Then, in frustration, I switch to the Hopkinsian mode:
Why do sinners’ ways prosper?
What I expect is probably direct and immediate reciprocation,
This simple equation doesn’t always seem to work in life.
It actually takes a higher calculus:
What may happen, if I am patient enough to see,
Is indirect reciprocation: someone else trying to help me.
Such help is often delayed, but not denied,
And may turn up rather unexpected.
Sweet are the fruits of patience!
— Ram, R. V.
Shy of condition
Shyness afflicted
Shy opaque canvas butterfly
Who only speaks when addressed
Oh shy , Oh shy
Opaque butterfly
Who only speaks when addressed
Converses only in chilling whispers
shyness permitting
Corner to corner when in a room searching camouflage in which
to shelter cloak invisibility
Personable , polite , contrite yet
sadly lacking personality
Apart from shyness to call
on as a solent friend and crutch
to lean upon
So shy and friendless butterfly
has no one but himself to pacify
his mental health
On the outside but still a bystander
fenced in by wall's built out of social
convention barricade stone's
Alone is shy with untapped depth
bound and blighted by crippling
stage fright
For fear of letting one's presence
be known and felt in company
But no less worthy of being heard
than those who crave and hogg the
limelight for themselves
Who are probably no less or
even more insecure than the
terminal shy
Both suffer from the same
personality condition
just express themselves
in different or their own way
Shy , eccentric , exhibitionist
two sides of the same coin
Unable to express oneself
for fear of being torn apart
for being different
In a world shepherded by sheep
where everyone aspires to be a
lookalike
Everyone eventually ends up
looking like mutton dressed
up in lamb's designer wool
With the wool pulled firmly
over our eye's
Why do i find solace in my loneliness
But find sorrow with those wit whom i share the same blood
Why do i hide behind these fake smiles of happiness
When this sorrow and unrest washes over my soul like a flood
Its pathetic how i'm laughing on the outside
Laughing at how everyting is all right
While i'm crying and dying on the inside
Not wanting anyone to see my sad sad plight
Why is it that i continuosly distance myself
from those who are or try to get close
I see love as nothing more than a drug
that people are addicted to the point of overdose
I am one who finds solace in despair
in sorrow,in sadness,in darkness
I am one who feels pain in love
I see it as evil like a vulture,instead of pure like a dove
Love can build,but it can also destroy
It takes away everything,all of the joy
Despair may seem like incarnated bitterness
But its there to comfort in the face of loneliness
I find myself wishing for the company of the feeling of melancoly
Its as if i can't function without it
Like a flower without an ounce of water
Could this feeling be,truly be love
I see that in the end,that i find myself in a paradox
A large cell with many locks
Two sides of the same coin
Love and Despair,Despair and Love
Despair in Love,Love in Despair
I can't make it disappear
Don't want to make it disappear
Some people are concerned
They wonder and they fear
Just how and when they'll die
The thought, it seems so *****
Not like we have a choice
And so I'll tell you why...
but it's only my own voice...
I've been dead before,
I'll be dead again,
The thought of fearing it
To me just seems inane
Whether it's nothingness after
Or to a heavenly place we go
The thought to me seems dafter
But I don't really claim to know
So I worry not about things to be
Of which I have no control
Just accept what's been doled to me
Peace is my only goal
So I thank Alfred E. Newman
On each cover of Mad magazine
He gave me this great title
Such wisdom is rarely seen...
So sleep in peace my friends out there
It's all in God's great hand
Life and death two sides of the same coin
I hope you understand
And now I've said my piece
So off to bed I go
Is sleep a bit like death?
That I'd like to know
Cause sleep is my favorite time
No pain, no worries, no cares..
Someday we'll all find out
At that time when God shares
What some consider the ultimate mystery
The big answer that they seek
Go to sleep this evening
May God give you a peek!
If you're in exile then why do feel
so close giving advice across the cold
of cyberspace Through it I tell you
what is going on but I don't have
to explain everything You infer the rest
on your own We share a common history
but maybe not a common fate You who shared
mom's womb with me for nine months
What were your dreams then and what if any
are your dreams now? Do you still hear
the voices of the place we used to call
our home? Do you still see our faces
when you close your eyes in your part
of the world? People ask if I know
what you're thinking right now
With words I fill the gap you fill
with your vast silence like yin & yang
or two sides of the same coin we toss
in a well From the same well we draw
the water our father would use
for a hot cup of coffee at dawn
The world is a cold place.
The powerful conscript
the poor for war
so that profits soar.
We see an eagle
and think how majestic
never stopping to analyze
what we're left with?
How pathetic do these
prophecies have to be
before God intercedes?
It's up to the Us's.
The you and me's
but today I woke up
not wanting to see who won
the midterms
but who's holding a grudge
in his hand there is a gun.
Shooting will persist.
This division will continue to split.
Red and Blue our greatest divide,
how did we end up being
so one color focused?
I'm glad for whoever won.
It's not the winners
but the power I fear.
I feel powerless living
at the behest of someone
else's mercy.
Those mercies that say
her body is not hers.
My antibodies aren't fine.
And documentaries
I choose to watch
have to be scrutinized
and remain hush-hush
so that we stay so out of touch
with what made us American.
We've fallen a mighty long way
from great days.
Honestly,
we can no longer hope
to stay the same.
We've changed
slipping ever so closer
to the point of greed
is all we'll know.
We argue instead of listen
and place ego juxtaposed
to healing and say
one step is too far away.
Love thy neighbor
as we love ourselves
was the second best statement
ever written
But utterly fail at following the first.
Our love is devoid of reflection.
I see me in you.
I recognize your pain.
I acknowledge your hurt.
Now, lets find our worth.
It can't be separate but equal.
Can't be two sides of the same coin.
We need to bleed
like cooper in penny.
One of one and solidly so.
Not so easily disregard
but all voices heard.
Turn down that megaphone.
Let the soft spoken be heard.
It's funny. I voted for a President that called me un-American and today was the first time I choose to forgive. We carry the sins of social media longer than we'll ever know.
Unfortunately, I came to deliver a message but no one was home.
They were either celebrating a victory
or loading a gun.
Nobody wins if all of us lose.
Let's try love.
Poem 1:
Chad was deep in the forest when he began to notice the grass
Moving curiously as if it was alive
Maybe it was
His five-year-old mind thought back to fairy tales.
He used to believe in the Brothers Grimm, forty years ago.
When had he lost that side?
His imagination smiled as he studied this forest.
There was something mystical about it.
Sparkling shimmering verdant leaves.
Red, pink, and tan mushrooms.
He imagined them as houses.
This would be the perfect place to retrieve his whimsical side.
He sat for a bit, before he noticed the felled log.
He wondered what it would be like to sit on that?
His five-year-old side giggled, urging him on.
Poem 2:
Faerie Fey Village was having a rousing great time.
They were unifying the troops, celebrating with rhyme.
Everyone was playing games or dancing and no one was blue.
Spiked orange juice was flowing through the magical forest too.
There were all kinds of critters and creatures, getting on great.
The brownies and elves of course are always a couple of days late.
The mice and the bunnies were dancing hard with the frogs.
A fantastic time on the underside of the enormous fallen oak logs.
Shh! A mole or vole whispered. I hear one of those tall giants, I think.
The wasps and the hornets stopped buzzing around the roses so pink.
Baby bunnies began to scramble, and the grandpa elf yelled to hide.
So we all transmogrified into moss, ivy and mushrooms on this eastern side.
I felt the giant’s breath as he looked around Fey Village that Day.
I did not dare make a sound, for I had heard giants have a mean way.
They wreck your homes, and tear the wings off your butterflies too.
I was so relieved when he left, this man with eyes of sky blue.
I shall remain silent when all others do not
I shall listen when others fail
I shall remain silent and listen
For this seems to be my life
For silent and listen are two sides of the same coin
You can not have one without the other
For they both are spelled with the same letters
She's a part of me, she makes me whole
We are one, she's the other half of my soul.
When we talk or sit together
Nothing else matters and this is forever.
Being apart doesn't put us out of joint
We'll always be there and that's the point.
Ying and yang we're two sides of the same coin
There's no better feeling than when two souls join.
She lives in the light and craves for the dark, I live in the dark and crave the light
It never feels good when we fight.
A best friend that's like no other
We don't have to be together to love one another.
I'm there for her no matter what she'll do
I know she'll be there for me too.
Fate always drags us back together
No matter how much we say "Never ever".
When we fight we find our evil side
We'll hurt each other deep inside.
Two different things we want from this life
And that cuts deeper than any knife.
If we found a way, then the magic we'll see
We could do anything, her and me.
Her dreams are for her and mine are for me
Everything is possible i want her to see.
She's as much a part of me as my own beating heart
Our souls are bound, we can never be apart.
the tears quietly leave my eyes
but their path does not seem
to have a rhyme or reason
and they have no destination
no purpose but to outline
my ‘self-imposed misery’
with glistening and watery pain
i want to cry
every hour of the day i want
to cry out and shout my anger
at a world that doesn’t give me
answers to my desperately
fervently whispered questions
and i wish on every first star
i can find hoping
that my prayer will be granted
and this all ends
lost and dead inside
i float through an existence
filled with silent sobs
and nights of lasting agony
not from anything valid
just from the disgusting and despised
life i make my self live
yet if i knew how to escape
without being gone forever
if i knew how to fix
this hole in my heart i would
do it and be happy after
and not have to worry about this
pressure in my chest and this constriction
in my throat and the nasty creature
that gnaws at my insides
the creature that is anger and
depression two sides of the same coin
with terror sandwiched in between
these free-flowing thoughts that course through
my fingers and out onto this screen
do not seem to have direction or any
order and truly they don’t
except to highlight the darkness in my
soul that buries deeper into the shadows
every minute the blackness that engulfs me
grows stronger and i pant
out of breath i try to reach
the lighted surface but am held down by
the tendrils of agony that have
wrapped around me
the tears quietly leave my eyes
but i make not a sound
alone as i am
there is no need to let anyone know
of the knife protruding from my chest
and the needles that pierce my mind
letting these ramblings leak out
and drip onto the page
where they lose all meaning and are
only a jumble of words trying and failing
to shift into coherent sentences
akin to the pieces of my life
that are racing to fit together
into the picture they are supposed to
create but the salt water is melting the
paint and the colors are bleeding
until i am unrecognizable just
pigment no living painting
in the sight which is blinded by
the tears that quietly leave my eyes
and drop to the floor.