The human heart is not an organ of borders. Love is love -- at least, it should be.
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"Time checks distract you and squander work time." - Katheliyer
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A pure heart has no species nor borders.
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Any senseless poem that fails the reader's expectation should be tossed into the trash bin. Write something that inspires,, let emotions flow with harmony.
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I'm not a contest person. Don't want to make my life a competition -- wanting suggestions to come from myself, wanting little as possible for my works to be the prompted themes of others -- not a feed the hungry person, preferring to fish with my brothers and sisters. I believe each God given life is a miracle divine, a bottomless spiritual well of personal creativity, to be drawn from and explored to the fullest unhindered by writing laziness --
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"There is no such lesson to learn spirituality, it's in you how sex is."
Under18 age:note
Jagdish Bajantri
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At no time nor under any condition should a politician be treated like a five-year-old at a daycare.
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Poetry is Truth -- and truth connects time and space. If it was true for Plato, it was also true for Shakespeare, and is therefore true for the modern poet. Which, insistently, works the same in the converse. The modern poet does not need new language and form (gimmicks)...what he or she needs is to often revisit man's relationship with omnipotence.
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“Leadership is not about waiting for power; it is about using your voice, your choices, and your actions to create change.”
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Poetry need not be defined...only that after a work is read, the reader says: "Now that's poetry!".
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I do not want anyone to truly understand me, because my conflicts exist beyond the limits of this world's understanding.
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The tougher it becomes; the more I become stronger and bolder.
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Every disagreement is either a battle to be won or an opportunity to be understood; rarely can it be both.
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The ego is a map that confuses its borders with the territory of the soul.
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Your thoughts are the raw materials of the universe; be a careful builder, for what you construct in the silence will eventually house your spirit.
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we see news, we believe it; we flip channels and rumour uproars. The fact never explained itself, it never will. If the belief is fragile n perception is as tender as the waters upon which any body can cause ripples; then it's good to flip channels and stay entertained.
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lay in a hammock, breathe, drift, sway, float, surrender_ let go
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The ultimate defense against noise is not a louder voice; it is a deeper silence.
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The mind is a danger if left to wander,
going after all that it wants to plunder,
haunting its hunger like a mad hunter,
flexing its power and then to ponder—
Did I make a mistake?
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Don't loose your friend Because Being alone is not a choice, it's a decision....
Don't take it...
When your life is giving you a shoulder to cry
Don't push it
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"Poetry is medicine for the writer and for the reader."
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Lesson for brats always around you..
Don't order a cup of tea
and
expect a teapot
??
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The horizon is not a destination to be reached, but a reminder that our potential is always just beyond what we currently understand.
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As we converse with computers, there comes a need for a contraction of 'she/he/it', most naturally 'sheit'. With an emphasis on the 'h', to reflect the dual genders. A particularly able instance thereof might be termed 'deep sheit'. And conversely, a potential dismissal might be referred to as 'sheit's going down'.
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When the ego becomes a seeker of truth, it suffers as identity is challenged, ultimately surrenders, and makes space for a deeper and more authentic self to emerge.
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Because it was not a "level playing field" at its inception the appearance of impropriety must be considered in any decision regarding race in America.
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It’s not the end of the world yet. I wonder, when that moment faces us, if it is the poetry in our veins that will drive Love home in man (and woman).
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Emotions are substance -- Love, hate, they are substance. Angels, they are substance. Maybe not what we commonly understand as physical matter, but spirit is substance. Spirit is real. For me, after everything has been cleaned and polished, there radiates love. Love is the source and ever evolving embodiment of manifest reality. Nothing exists outside of love...all else is illusion.
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"I hope your wonderful imagination comes alive as you go writing away."
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A poem is as much written by the reader when it is read as it is written by the writer when it is written.
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