welcome to Pink Floyd and welcome to the machine
behold the temple of light, and don’t be mean
A psychedelic group, so readily enjoyed and seen
Philosophical lyrics, a rival of Freddie and Queen
Comfortably numb, sit back and enjoy the show
Goodbye blue sky, this concert is the way to go
Pigs on the wing are traveling down the aisle
Another brick in the wall, to make me smile
Coming back to life, on the turning away
Shine on your crazy diamond, you make my day
Sonic experiments are enjoying a revival here
eyes to the pearls, come sit over here.
A beggar grabbed my hand and cried for some spare change.
At first, I offered him a sweet memory of food or a tasteless sip of divine water, but he asked for money.
I had a heavy coin and gave it to him.
I wondered why he took only the money, and when he saw it, he immediately placed it in a different spot.
I asked why.
I offered you food and water—you rejected both, and now you hide the coin.
He said it was the most different one, and if he didn’t hide it, other people would start accusing him that the coin was wrong, that it shouldn’t be used—because its print was different, because its color didn’t match theirs.
There was a time I looked at God with sea water in my eyes, drowning in a river of problems. I asked Him, with the last piece of devotion I had, why the Bible never told us that hell is not in the darkness beneath the earth, but in the light of the earth, right in front of us. Why do we keep accusing the wrong side and worshipping the light? Why is hell on the surface, God? Why?
bliss
an eternity -
sans time, space, thought,
infinitesimal infinity!
~kcm
I've been fed a prune of life,
Spooned it silver, everlasting.
I spat it out to seek a knife,
To chop and cease it of forecasting.
The birth is reason as much itself:
Not 'yond the self conceived.
Wrote for book on busy shelf,
Whose tales unread aren't grieved.
In our universe so vast, life and death is an interpretation.
In our life, we hold dear sadness, and joy is an imagination.
Our life is full of colors, or so we assume,
But there are no colours — just the product of our brains.
Reality is beyond what we imagine.
What we see around is just an illusion.
Nothing is ours, but we paint some as immigrants.
Ego clouds our minds; we live in artificial possessions.
We feel the loss of lives when a plane crashes,
But ignore the plight of children who die every day of hunger.
We drink for pleasure; the poor drink out of misery,
The ones who die are sad, while the ones who survive are sad to live the next day.
And yet we keep moving in our blind beliefs,
We keep chasing dreams, trying to keep away from grief.
The day we see reality, we ask, “Why only me?”
We live in a small world, and fail to see the larger picture.
By
Suresh Iyer
While we live inside our small bubbles, we ignore looking beyond to see the larger picture, for it would shatter our ego and cause us pain.
S-ilent
A-uthor's
R-eliable
I-nk
S-moothly
D-esigns
I-magery,
N-aturally
G-iving
L-ife
A-s
S-imple
A-s
N-ame
©bfa042725
Monocrostic (Birthday of Saris C. Dinglasan)
Maybe I’d be happy if I had a swimming pool
Maybe I’d be happy if only I looked cool
Maybe I’d be happy if I won the lottery
Maybe , just maybe, well maybe.
Maybe I’d be happy if I owned a flashy car
Maybe I’d be happy, if I was a music star
Maybe I’d be happy if I was someone else but me
Maybe, just maybe, well maybe.
Maybe I’d be happy if my eyes were emerald green
Maybe I’d be happy if my weight could not be seen
Maybe I’d be happy if I could truly say I’m free
Maybe, just maybe, well maybe.
Maybe I’d be happy, is a somewhat hopeful phrase
Maybe I’d be happy simply needs to be appraised
Maybe I am happy but fail to ever see
Maybe, just maybe, well maybe!
And
We should not be here
in the first place:
in last place
in the worst space.
This Earth! The Disgrace!
But
should we be here
at the right time:
at due time
at the fine line.
This Life! The Great Race!
So
Save yourself: a piece
Of peace in one hand.
Still
Stick to what your gut
Would: want at one hand.
For
There is a proper place
for Everything:
A place to live,
And a place to die.
A place to love,
And a place to cry.
A place to borrow,
And a place to pay.
A place to day,
And a place to morrow.
A place to dance,
And a place to stand.
A place to fall,
And all and all is all the same!
A place to start,
And a place to step.
A place to stop,
And a place to stay.
A place to speak,
And a place to cease.
A place to be in
And a place to keep in.
A place to breathe,
And a place to beat.
A place to race
And place to place as all the same!
All
Is closer than you think.
Everything is there.
A proper place
for Everywhere.
Blind
My eyes are dim, I do not see.
How could this happen, to someone like me?
I’m not a bully, a thief, or a cad.
Just a hardworking man, like my grandfather and dad.
As children we played a silly game.
Called blind man’s bluff, that was its name.
With our eyes covered, it’s just not the same.
We remove the blindfold, and we can see again.
Being blind is not like turning out the light.
The world is not dark as a moonless night.
Shades of gray without shape body or form.
To a blind man’s sight, this is the norm.
Why did this happen, to someone like me?
Was it God’s way to teach me pity?
My eyes are dim, I cannot see.
Why did this happen, happen to someone like me?
By
Josehf Lloyd Murchison
In Judaeo-Christian cultures, when we equivocate, evil as
good, it marks the very beginning of our soul’s swan song.
9/19/2024
@ Panagiota Romios
Does the winter really turn into spring,
Does it go from a white to a green sort of thing?
Or, is a winter a thing of its own–
A singular winter, past, off to places unknown?
-- by ThoughtsFromB4
THE WEIGHT OF OUR THOUGHTS
Mind, the supreme gift to humankind is,
Plentiful thoughts criss-crossing whiz;
Enchanted spirits gliding high,
Success triumph when almost nigh!
Gratified the mind, with content filled,
Appeased exuberant gladly thrilled;
Vibrant agile mind dancing sprightly,
Energetic playful the outer selves’ lively!
When crestfallen desolate state of mind,
Languorous listless strolling down the alley blind;
Depressed psyche despondent gloomy,
Anguished being humming songs melancholy!
Strolling with heavy steps or light-hearted trots,
Let’s not carry The Weight Of Our Thoughts!
I use philosophical musings,
My key maker is reverie,
A few attempts may be needed,
Alignment may not occur each time.
Upon success, the door opens,
A mirror stands there, devoid of reflection,
Then a ripple, whatever part of you hidden,
Manifests.
It grasps you digging talons in,
drags you inside,
Beware, can take possession of your husk,
enjoy the ride.
Which version of yourself, do you regard the best?
Which version of yourself, well and truly beats the rest?
Which version of yourself, would you prefer to be?
Which version of yourself, should the world not see?
Each day of your life is a chance to improve,
Each day of your life there should be nothing you need to prove,
Each day of your life you can smile and show love,
Each day of your life we should thank our lucky stars above.
Think on others less fortunate than thee,
Think on others whose lands they need to flee,
Think on others if you complain this is not paradise,
Think on others who might swap their life for yours, at any price.
Which version of yourself might you like to see?
Which version of yourself are you going to be?
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