Learn about love from poet rumi - poetry
In this advanced age of technology, busy lifestyles, and obsession with consumerism have taken a lot of the romance and love out of our lives. The Internet has develop into a average to attach with citizens as all and sundry is discovery it a lot harder to meet one an added in the 'real' world. It has incontestably also be converted into a place of voyeuristic fantasy in the realms of sexuality on pornographic sites. What ever happened to true love? Are our priorities so messed up that romance has been forgotten, only to be qualified vicariously by means of tube and movies? The fulfil is no. Romance will never die; we just have to feed it with our energy.
Around 800 years ago a eminent Arabic poet, philosopher and sage named Rumi wrote attractive love poetry clear of all comparison. I don't know if there have been many other associates in Earth's account that have attention about love as much as this master. His poems have not been forgotten, and one place you can cleanly find and read them is on the Internet. E. g. www. khamush. com/love_poems. html
The beauty of the heart
Of choice you can also buy books by Rumi on the Net as well, but the main point here is that the Internet doesn't just give us contact to our acquaint with time and place; it gives us a means to attach with past realities often tacit to be lost in time. It is quite ironic and illogical that we can use this contemporary space age tool to associate with our cultural, spiritual and communal heritages. We as a civilization have come a long way in terms of our technological development, but it is well known all through the world that our ancestors were much more evolved in these crucial areas where our advance has be converted into small due to a lack of awareness and narrow perspectives on life.
Love, romance, spirituality, none of these effects need be forgotten. The answers aren't sheltered away in tombs and pyramids; they are still here lasting in the back of our consciousness. All we need to do is to get the ask to fulfil our lives by these means and we will examination and find the ways. Human beings are incredibly imaginative creatures. When we put our minds to a touch we can make just about something happen. I don't want to imply that the answers to our troubles are easy, or that the Internet is our sole saviour. I am just amazed at how all clothes in life are connected, and that we just have to open our eyes to see the all too obvious!
Find the Magic
FIND the MAGICFind the Magic As you announce old burden Come out of hiding And see the starsFind the Magic As you expose the pain Let the tears flow And find beauty in your bodyFind the Magic As you scream from the beating Run from the threats And feel the affection of a hugFind the Magic As the diminutive girl is silenced Told she is too smart for her own good And she finds her place of honor as she speaks her mindFind the Magic As the ghosts creep into dream Haunt your daily life And you meet them at the crossroads and move onFind the Magic As you drift out of your body, avoiding the anger Observe the separation And you join the body temple once again to cheer in this exclusive wonderFind the Magic As you eavesdrop to the conflicts and Watch in horror And emerge from the water whole and exquisite in a rainbow of colorsFind the Magic, For you are whole once againŠ 2004 Susan BaconSusan Bacon is an researcher, coach and author. Associate her because of her web site http://www.
In Poetry: Connotation of Words [And ...Rocket-belt]
In Poetry: Gist of WordsWhen I write poetry, I check out the denotation of words for too often they sound the same, but once written, and if spelled wrong, in consequence, give a accomplished assorted connotation of what I had intended; this I call a flash of destruction control. If my rhyme is flat, and my inflection is off, so what, I can survive, as long as the connotation of my words are not; and are as I meant them to be.
Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a silver alien craft, And even as he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an instantaneous one off fine At a cash point of his choice And they are inspection all the time On his irises face and voice.And of classes they find that he is not, They ascertain he just cannot be there, Although he seems as if he is visible, And has hands and toes and hair, If he is not on the Great Data Bank, He plainly and basically cannot be, He is not planned and he is not ranked He is clearly not like you and me.
Why I enjoy Writing?
During interviews and common conversations with the public,one of the most arduous questions for me to answer(timely and thoroughly) is,"Why do you enjoy writing"?So due to the challenge manifested in such a question,I pondered on creating an answer. Many reasons came to mind,but after digesting much"time for thought",I managed to condense my reaction to three items.
I AM SO Obliged for simpler times. Stores were blocked on Sundays, TV shows seemed to make more sense, Family members spent ample time with each other, And colonize were valued more than things.
Two Poems: Boyhood, and Old Age [with a note on style]
BoyhoodOh me! Thy glorious days have flown! I mealy noticed, now they're gone, How abruptly approved the flowers! Time does not stop youth's bells; It was like I was in a spell, And my face now shows the hours!Ah yes! My young at heart past days, Still lively in my blond age, When all was quick and new Now wrapped in movies and books, And contacts and breed were all I knew And love was shown by affable looks!#741 6/26/05Old AgeThey stop by to see me now To find what's old and new, They peer into my-everything, And carp my views; They tell me what I ought to like, And that I be supposed to be grieved-These are my fragile links That takes the strongest liberties?I mean to take the signal off; And put the phone beyond the door; In vain I speak to tell them why -I shan't live here anymore!#742 6/26/05A note on Style: some colonize ask, "What style of poetry to you like the best?" I can never key that question; it is open-ended to me. If I feel like flouting free from tradition as in the poem of: "Old Age," so be it; and if I feel accepted verse, a stricter correct arrangement be supposed to be used, as in "Boyhood," and can be part of the cause absolutely to the poem, so it is.
Expressing an Emotion - The Art of Characters Poetry
Writing poetry is an art, a way of expression, discovery connotation in few words. A piece of music of passion flowing out onto the pages, words that flow into each other and yet communicate the inner most feelings and feelings of those who read the words.
Poetry in Turbulence
To many non-specialists of literature, poetry is extremely unsatisfying. There are numerous reasons for this, but two in distinct come to mind.
I Saw the Universe
I can see the indigo blue of the skiesOr the azure of the nightI can see the stars wink, the grin of the moonDuring the changes of it's monthly face**I am in awe**I see the sun on it's twelve-monthly trekAlternately initiation the life in the earthAnd then evaporation away to allow it to sleepUntil the next spring**I am told the Universe is "out there"Beyond those stars, moon and sun,Yet the power of what I can seeIs a fathoming ahead of my comprehension**I am in awe**"Out there" no time, no seasons passNo sense of age, hatred or loss existOnly the infinity0f the Universe**What IS "out there"?What IS the Universe that has no end?What IS the power that creates all this?I want to see it too**And then I remember..
A Poem - By Lorraine KemberIt was a day like any other and mother, father, sister, brother, were moving out the customs of their land. When all of a sudden devoid of warning, Nurse Character came calling, shook the earth and stole the ocean from the sand.
As I pulled out up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the sand looked like ahead of they were polished. The store had quite a few rocks on demonstrate viewing the beforehand and after and I realized that but for you knew what you were looking for, you could certainly pass by a beneficial gemstone.
Mechanical Poetry; Part Two
What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your key is "I start writing." Even copy a bad poem is change for the better than coming up for the "right words.
Two Poems and an Examination ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love']
Two Poems and an Chemical analysis ['Witness,' & 'An Old Love']WitnessMy face belongs to whoever sees it Everything has a consequence but life Even the bugs strive for existence God saved man, from God Ghosts have lonely sins Her bones are stones Up and down the hill Gardens blossom Spotless skies Dramatists August I can not rest!..
Testimony to the Night [In English and Spanish]
In the quiet of the cold night- In its deep northern skies, Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?! Even the stars of the arctic Seem noiselessly stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo cover the mind To establish the throat; Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyes Eyes with cosmic tides Tides that never rest: they warWith the Universe- Likened to a dark deep abyss; Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and search In countless hours, ebbing and Sweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless- Are the cosmos, the heavens? Here resides a astonishing peace?Here, resides a alien peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, mutely in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark; Time has no importance here, Here, resides a strange, peace?Cold and oddly numb are my feet, As I look up, upon the many bridges One star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens were Guarding them-the Hosts- O-Yes! A strange, curious peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, blistering firmaments-ye, Ye, prompt me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never rest Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeI hear music, harmony from afar (there) There are storms covert in a storehouse, For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust; There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
The Poets Bend [Three Poems with a review]
The Poet's Corner [Three poem/ see analysis of poetry under the poems]The Poets CondorThe condor fly's Amongst the hillsIn open skies Of San Jerrķnimo, Near Huancayo?Forbidding any To near his path-Lest he dare To risk a attack, Near Huancayo!..
Publishing Your Poetry
If you are acute about since your work available by dependable publishers, there are a few points you be supposed to consider. First of all and most obviously, you need to affect if you have poetry worth publishing.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I admiration them, accept you, honor what you tell me and even although I know where you're advent from, I just sought after to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
Three Poems: Dona Leonors Revenge; The Old Moon; Communal Sides [All in Spanish/all in English]
1) Doņa Leonor's Revenge [1627 AD]Rafael Ortiz's fate Was on the plate Of Doņa Leonor'sWhen she arrived In Lima, Peru; To taste revengeFor the beheading Of her husband. And so the plot?was now played out (in an alleyway) As she heartbroken her trout!In SpanishTranslated by Nancy PenalozaLa leyenda de: La venganza de doņa Leonor (1627 después de cristo)El destino de Rafael Ortiz Estaba sobre el plato De doņa Leonor.
Farewell to Lester Graybill
I never met a man, who could shake my hand, and make my heart feel like a grate afire.I never met a man, who could smile so easy, real honest.
Two Poems: Black Poncho, and Spirits of de Copan [in English and Spanish]
English Version12) Black Poncho(of Saint Cosme Hill, by Lima, Peru)Lost in the grottos of Peru- By the hills of Huancayo Black Cloak was given A treasure of gold?; By none other than, Demonic goblins!?in the form of blistering fruit; Hence, Black Cloak fooled The goblins of oldBy using his cape to pull The blistering fair-haired fruit Through the Andes to Lima, Peru!?Henceforward, he was swindled By a jeweler of dire repute. Thus, his life altered (as so often they do); And now he lives with: Thirty-five dogs, on San Cosme Hill.
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