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If interstellar travel is as time- or energy- demanding as the above figures indicate, it is far from obvious what the motive for colonization might be.

quote by Barney Oliver
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Thank The Lord For The Night Time

Written by: neil diamond
Daytime turns me off, and I dont mean maybe
Nine-to-five aint taking me where Im bound
When its done, I run out to see my baby
We get groovin when the sun goes down
I thank the lord for the night time
To forget the day
A day of up-, uptight time
Baby, chase it away
I get relaxation
Its a time to groove
I thank the lord for the night time
I thank the lord for you
Ill talk about plans now, baby, I got plenty
Nothing ever seems turn out the way it should
Talk about money, girl, I aint got any
Seems like just one time Im feelin good
I thank the lord for the night time
To forget the day
A day of up-, uptight time
Baby, chase it away
I get relaxation
Its a time to groove
I thank the lord for the night time
I thank the lord for you

song performed by Neil Diamond
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I Thank The Lord For The Night Time

THANK THE LORD FOR THE NIGHT TIME
Neil Diamond
Daytime turns me off, and I don't mean maybe
Nine-to-five ain't takin' me where I'm bound
When it's done, I run out to see my baby
We got groovin' when the sun goes down
I thank the Lord for the night time
To forget the day
A day of up-, uptight time
Baby, chase it away
I get relaxation
It's a time to groove
I thank the Lord for the night time
I thank the Lord for you
I'll talk about plans now Baby, I got plenty
Nothing ever seems to turn out the way it should
Talk about money, girl, I ain't got any
Seems like just one time I'm feeling good
I thank the Lord for the night time
To forget the day
A day of up-, uptight time
Baby, chase it away
I get relaxation
It's a time to groove
I thank the Lord for the night time
I thank the Lord for you

song performed by Neil Diamond
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Don’t waste time and energy.

When a thing is hard to get,
You set out to get it.
When such things go aplenty,
At your door steps,
To it, you turn your back
And, then turn repulsive.
Woman of glamour and
Woman of beauty do this,
Fed up with swarming men.
Don’t waste your time and energy.
28.04.2002, pakd

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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If I could travel back in time

If only I could travel back in time
When my youth was all at its prime
I'd start all over from the scratch
Just to find my perfect match
I'd be Cleopatra laden with jewels
The queen of Kingdom that ever did dwell
I'd bathe in fragrance, petals and rose
The Queen of Egypt, Anthony would have chose
My serving maids would clad me in silk
And scrub me all over by pouring milk
My life would be on a primrose path
Luxuries would surround me and never would last
I would not have worries to pay my bills
If my prince charming came galloping down the hill
He'd take me by surprise and make me his queen
If only this was a reality and not just a dream :)

poem by Meena Mustafa
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To Travel Back In Time

If I could have the chance
To jump through the distances of time
If I could have the chance to travel back in time centuries ago
To those days to find the Innocency who is lost from the world
Take my soul to the real love!
Take me to those days where purity and goodhearted people still survived
Take me to the people with no colored hearts
If I could have the chance
To jump through the distances of time
to travel back in time to the black and white to jump through the screen and enter to one of those old movies and there I would love to survive
Take me back in time to
glory days of love
Where the love was boundless and honesty still alive
Take me to those days where the lovers survived through the pain and vain
but love never died
Please save my soul I can't bear all these lies

poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Dialogue: Time tested knowledge -Globilization is the ladder

Time –Ladder

My words of inspiration
Will always begin by time
They say time is money
I am thinking of time sitting with my best friend
Then I came to recognize that time is friend who is caring
He is sharing me with his past experiences about life
Hear is the beginning:
My friend: Do you see that we are now failing to do the things in the way that our past forefathers were doing
Me: Yes but why
My friend: This is because we are failing to use the time in a more sunssict manner
Me: what do you mean?
My friend: Have you noticed how naughty the pupils are during the class.
Me: yes
My friend: That is because they tend to take all of things that are being said by the lectures fro granted.
Me: Why is that happening
My: That is not only because the students do not looked to attend the lectures, but that is because they think they will be able to catch up the notes either on the book or on the internet.
Me: Oh yes, But not all of us who are having the similar abilities to grasp exactly what the lectures are saying, doesn’t that cause others to fail.

My friend: That affect everybody.

Me: How

My friend: Do you know what? Time is very important. Most of students – tends to blame the lectures when they have failed. The University is another level of education. There is no one who will push as in the high schools. You need to go and search the information for them.
Me: Besides that my friend: Most of lectures have experience. They have devoted their times in doing their studies. Besides that, most of lectures are very old. For us as the students it is very difficult to develop knowledge about something we have never seen. Do you ever red Ferranti – the sociolology book part about Industrial Revolutions?

Me: Do you mean that Industries evolutes in Europe that any other world?

My friend: That is good but can you think of how the Industrial Revolution tests our time-knowledge?

Me: I think of the time when the animals were being domesticated. I red that book from Diamond Larry. Those animals were then used as transport for goods. Two or three Horse carriages followed on one another. But they may have seen how heavy the goods are. They developed the wheels so that the weight is reduced. That was fine. However the roads were built because of too much bumps on the lands. They have therefore conquered the knowledge of making the trains. Note that the trains mimic the movement of horse carriages. Thereafter, everything followed. That includes cars, aero planes and even telegrams. What we are talking about today is time-distance friction – which means that our world is totally shrinking. That is literally because it does not refer to the actual shrinking of world. It refers to the time that we are now using to travel from one place to another. So you can see that what ever that is happening is traced from the past experience.
My friend: Wow my friend you have killed it? (We shack the hands)

Me: So we cannot only talk about the lectures but we can make our new statement of change.

My friend: Yes my friend you are clever, because you see that this world is changing. It is also said that in our modern societies some societies are failing to change because they are still stick to the superstitions of the past. In terms of culture do you think how can we change culture in the way that will be time- tested?

Me: I like when you say time –tested knowledge. Do you know what? If we can just switch off the knowledge and hysterical notes of writings about anything, including math, science and even culture there is no point to disagree that we shall not have developed in the way that the modern world development is taking place. I don’t like your term change and I suggest that you will use transform in the future. As you have had of how the industrial development was developed and then transformed. We need to study the ways in which the things were being done in the past in other to be able to transfer our modern word in a very smoothest way.

My friend: those words are now clear. You make me remember something. During the case of the ANC president Jackop Zuma. Well you know the rape case and -

Me: Can guess what you want to say. You are talking about the groups of women’s protection, who claimed that the girl did not cry or screamed because she was extremely terrified.

My friend: Yes and the judge said “that is not acceptable. A lady might otherwise have raped dead. No matter how terrifying the thing is, when we see something that terrifies us we tend to scream or be in the state of death. The statement that the women’s protection is trying raise has therefore no interaction in the universe”

Me: The judges are professionally trained; they are the people who are saying things based on the laws that were invented by based on the past experience. It does happen that Law is changed.But again I do not like to use the word change I will prefer to use the word transform. The transformations of laws are usually caused by the transformations of the modern societies. We are highly globalized and we have no point to oppose that. So in other to make the smooth transformation of our laws we need to see what was it cause and aims and what makes it fail to fit with the modern societies.

My friend: Yes you are speaking like lawyer now.

Me: I am not a Lawyer but what I have said emphasized one thing that “If the world is to be transformed in the smooth way – the time-tested knowledge in which things were done in the past must be used to evaluate the things, because we can not build something out of nothing.”

My friend: This also means that we are going to be tested on what we have done. I mean how we use our time and how we utilize the time-tested knowledge.

Me: Yes time is an ultimate sure goalkeeper. If one cherishes a dream on his or her mind it should be achieved by means of using the time-tested knowledge and that means that you need to use your time relevantly too. Open up your mouth and brain before you do actions you will see how amazing you are.

My friend: So my time is like a ladder. It is the only way to develop positive attitudes Take for example Doctor Nelson Mandela, who became the first democratically elected president in South Africa. He was sentenced almost 27 years in prison. He had seen how painful and disgusting the so-called discrimination is. When he came back he abolished apartheid and we are now leaving in the truly democratic South Africa.

Me: Yes time is a ladder that we shall climb with to everywhere we want to go. As you see Mandela had an experience about apartheid, because he felt to see how bad it was.He abolished it. He did not do the so called an eye for an eye. So everybody needs that Ladder of a time. I need ladder that shall be used to climb out the mountains. The ladder might be fit and fixed. Sot hat we shall be able to come back safety when our goals and visions have been fulfilled. My friends you are talking like a philosopher are you?

My friend: I am not a philosopher: anyone has told me to take those courses. I don’t believe it takes to study philosophy as to be a truly philosopher. There are as many people all over the universe. They call themselves engineers. But I will never call myself as a sociologist. The fact that I am studying sociology does not define me. I will be defined by time and my knowledge. I need person like you to kick start me but I do not need a person to push me.

Me: what do you mean?

Do you know the difference between the ultimate gold and fake gold. The faked gold tends to loose it color when it is thrown in the hot water. But the ultimate gold tends to shine more that ever before when it is thrown in the hot water. And do you know what does that mean? There are extremely rich people and there are poor people. Those people usually do absolutely nothing to help their societies. There are true philosophers with enough knowledge who can not pass it to the public. They wish to do so, but they are silenced because they ere not educated. I am lucky enough to get the opportunity to be at the university. So I shall use this chance to help in opening the mouths of the silenced philosophers. I shall use my time ladder. I don’t manna be reach and stay with my family while others are hungry outside. That is going to kill me and not the hungry people. Because we are living in the single universe that needs to be developed equally in order to achieve the developed world. (Now crying) I don’t want to be like those biggest extinct animals. Those animals were stupid’s. They refuse to adapt to the newly emerging environmental conditions. They realized that the food is so scarce but they choose to eat a lot. Take for an example of a person who usually encourages the apartheid. That person eventually changes when he has realized the truth. Unfortunately the saying argues that “the king is king buy it own people” So after the decades of the xenophobic plantation it is difficult to be removed. A king is transformed – he is no longer xenophobic –but it people are xenophobic. They kill people- foreigners. The king cries – not because he feels so pathetic over the killing –and I want to say no.
The king is very old and he does not know where shall it say to the God over his xenophobic inflicts or education. The king has no choice how to tell people that xenophobia is disgusting. He will loose his nation. No king is without stress in the universe.

poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo
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That's the most difficult issue for me... to find a subject that holds my interest long enough that I'm prepared to go to work and spend the time and energy to shoot the subject.

quote by Leonard Nimoy
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Time And Again/ It Is The Songs That Are The Poems

Time and again
It is Songs that are the Poem-
Songs which surprise
In suggestions and remembrances
Deepest feelings-
Time and again
It is the songs simple words
That lift the soul
To that kind of Joy only Beauty gives.

The songs the music-
With the words or without
They are so often the Poem
The Soul lives in
And would be less without.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Race With Time

I gazed at the faded colored
Photograph in my wrinkled hand.
A smug frozen image of me
Dressed in scant half-slit shorts and shirt
Captured in a moment of time.
A billion more moments had past
Taking with them my yolk of youth
Once viable, vibrant, fleeting;
Faster than time itself but losing
In the end for time never paused
For a victorious moment
As I once did to smile and gloat.
Meanwhile interminable time
Raced onward with me in its wake.
.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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There Comes A Time, To Us And To The City

There comes a time, to us and to the city
when summer spreads its wings upon a day,
that the sheer loveliness touches all of us
with a sense of fun, a sense of tranquillity.

From the moment that this has begun
the open blue sky, the clearness of the ocean
draws us to beaches where the water
touches the land, touches our feet

and happiness is only but a moment away,
when a day is like no other before it,
with the promise of how life and living
is really supposed to be.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Maintenance Of Bodies

there is so much involved in the maintenance of bodies...
the greasy hospital sheets,
doctors on switch-shifts
mortgaging their own happy hours,
cold and endless bathroom steel
and the carving-out feeling
of surgical howls,
the basement below filled with
blackened limbs.

then there is
the ripping, tearing, bloodiness
of newborn pain—
a welcome shot of reality when
that needle bangs and clatters to the floor...
I could revel all night in the irony of
incompetence.

so much done to save as much surface area
of skin
as possible,
to reduce the scars
and poultice the bleeding
hearts and minds and soft, soft feeling of
defeat, so many

words left
dripping off the railings that are holding me in this bed,
so much work slung at
trying to survive
the wounds,
the wailings of a scared, blonde-haired little girl,
eyes reddened and blood-streams pouring over her eyes,
just calling out,
just crawling in—

so much time and energy involved
in the maintenace of bodies,
it makes us sick.

poem by Jae Jae
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Visions Of Sorrow

In this hall of marbled walls in another
Dimension where time heeds no calls
It's neither day it's neither night, eternal
Twilight away from the light
Traveling through time and through space
Blinded by the grace
Shooting stars guide my way,
Cosmic tide cannot lead me astray.
Seen the signs so many times,
Stones turn to vapour and life declines.
A flash of light and all turns black,
Mountain falls and bursts with a crack.
travelling through time and through space
blinded by the grace
Visions of sorrow fill my eyes, always the
Same as i travel on through time.
Blackbrowed memories hides in the skies,
They travel inside me as
I watch another crime.
Visions of sorrow fill my eyes, always the
Same as i travel on through time.
Blackbrowed memories hides in the skies,
They travel inside me as
I watch another crime.
Shooting stars guide my way,
Cosmic tide cannot lead me astray.
In ancient tales forgotten by now,
Priests and kings pledged their vow.
So i send my curse to earth,
Forced to create a new rebirth
Traveling through time and through space
Blinded by the grace
Visions of sorrow fill my eyes, always the
Same as i travel on through time.
Blackbrowed memories hides in the skies,
They travel inside me as
I watch another crime.

song performed by Zonata
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Nicola Tesla, Inventor and Mystic

In 1884 A hungry man from Hungary
passed through Ellis Island
with nothing but dreams and hope,
but Tesla had something more…
He had vision and the ability to
transcend time and space.

Tesla tapped collective consciousness
and retrieved information that he
transcribed into drawings of strange
and revolutionary technology
far ahead of the times in which he lived.
From his drawings (perfect in design) he
built generators, machines and motors.

Thomas Edison and his pool of workmen
were working on how to provide electricity
to a growing populace. His triumph was
Direct Current (DC) . It was said to be
dangerous but he proceeded undeterred.
At the same time Tesla was developing an
Alternating current (AC) generator. This
form of electricity was the true answer for
lighting entire cities and of course this
technology prevailed.

Tesla did not stop with AC, he soon began
work on an invention that would transmit
free electricity through the atmosphere at great
distances. Strangely one night a fire burned
down his test facility and everything in it.
As we all know there’s no profit in “free energy”.

Tesla died in a modest hotel room in relative obscurity.
Scores of his patents and inventions eventually fell
into the hands of the federal government to be
later used for weaponry, spying and eventually
Star Wars Technology

Left alone with proper financing and the
freedom to develop his inventions, it’s likely that
today the world would have all the energy needed,
negating the need for so much fossil fuel. Without
the need to explore for and fight over oil the world
could be a more peaceful place.

Tesla, another man squashed by corporate greed,
yet it’s clear that one person can make a difference
for greater mankind.

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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Zombie Feeding Time

He sighs with weight deep in his breath
Marked by unease in his dog collar vests
While dutifully watching the concrete frontier
For the Fords and Escalades that march at the rear
While the infantry marines of dodge caravans
Spew there side doors with kindergarten clans
There's no rest for the weary mobilized at his station
When its times to collect for the fast food nation

It's a zombie feeding time
At the Alamo funhouse ride
Where as guests you may engorge
Your Esophagus on wage slave clerks

They commence like clockwork starving for more
When the sun beams decent, between noon and four
S.U.V. always searching for the nearest parking space
Its unfortunate the handicap wins with first place
Seconds tick as he runs, through the parking lot stalls
Dodging enemy combatants, in their long rental hauls
Picking up what he can of double-deckers and singles
To barricade the foyer for the waves of avengers

It's the zombie feeding time
The dinner gong ring's for the blind
They rendezvous together as a hive
And get frustrated at the checkmark line

It's a random stampede in the social pedigree
East end couch fleas, and the Summertown gantry
Silver girl divas with green cards to heaven
Denim grease dukes that dress like their eleven
Converging unison for their appetites appointment
Getting caught in the tracks of fliers and sweepstakes
Salivating for new cravens, with half price of a purchase
It's a grill, it's a pool, and it's a box of macaroons
A life time worth of soda, or guarantee on free salami
Everything is equal gain, even if it blows your tummy

It's a zombie feeding time
For carnivore mercenary pride
You can be a social epidemic
Bickering complaints to the empty apathetic

Through the glass doors he watches them come
Lugubrious movements from across the parking lot
From the T.D. Bank on the corner of Brookdale
Across the Westside the garden center at 'Clair's'
It's an all eat buffet, with an income you can pay
Try to be a man and fight with honors' to sway
Act like you know more than what you're paid for
Shell shocked brother's retreat to the water coolers

It's the zombie feeding time
An apocalypse cuisine slide
The Alamo for underpaid clerks
Reprimanded by consummated jerks

Sweat pours his brow as the rampage ensues
Manning the corral while his bosses aren't clued
Demand strips supply micro budgets are the fault
Were naked to attacks from shopping feast assault
Build a wider vestibule, with greater extension
More room for the carts, during the hours of demand
But were being consumed by a constant invasion
Of mental molasses's that attracts like black ants

It's the zombie feeding time
When the thoughtless have arrived
Illiterate to self respect and manners
Give them what they want on a silver platter

Where down to the line, outgunned by the ghouls
Outstretched by resources and nothing looks good
The bins are congested overflowing with buggies
Picked as the scraps of muddled leftover guts
He arranges a last stand praying for an evac
Taking whatever he can to barricade the stalls
Ripped to pieces in seconds all goes to pot
It's Just a Friday night for the hard-line grunt

It's the zombie feeding time
Now I'm going to wave goodbye
Cause there's more to life then this
Being a parking lot to bash

poem by Kevin Patrick
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An Abc Of Inner Peace

inner peace: a to z (© Raj Arumugam, September 2008)

Inner peace is effortless, as it’s always there within.
One just has to see it.

And once one truly sees this inner peace – not with words or just
intellectually, but actually see this inner peace within – it is one’s, always;
no one takes away that…

Nothing and no evil and no violent force or even the most difficult
of circumstances in one’s life can remove that inner peace that one
sees within; but let one see this not as a word, or as a phrase
but as an actuality.

Feel that peace, see that inner peace and let it radiate always – for it is
the harmony within each and it is always one’s own.

A


Let amity be your constant companion….Be at peace with all beings, equally at peace with those near and those far, and thus walk hand in hand with amity as in a bounteous garden…





B


Be mindful of your blessings always…To be alive, to breathe in fresh air;
and to be with the family and the companionship of good fellow-human
beings; and the kindness of strangers; and the creatures of this world
and the flowers that bloom, and to have a place in this marvelous planet
of ours….all these too are blessings….

There is a life of the body in the domain of the physical, and
the legitimate needs of the body are just as important as
one’s inner needs…

C


Think critically….even while we love and are at peace with the world,
do not forget to think critically for oneself so that one is not the fool
of the cunning…and thus thinking for oneself carefully and critically
one keeps one’s time and energy and one’s own mind….

Do your own thinking; allowing others to do your thinking for you
is to systematically lose one's will to live life to its fullest...

Freshness comes when one discards clichés in word, thought and
deed – and with freshness comes vigor, steadiness and wisdom….

Though one may mature and grow in intellect, let the child be in
you always. For each moment in which one ceases to be a child,
one is but walking dead.

D


Death is only part of a process in our lives….it is but another phase
as is one’s birth….
Witness the wonder of this process and constant change, and
marvel at it as one marvels at sunset and sunrise – and thus is there
no agony or ecstasy but quiet and cool contemplation of birth, our day to day
living and death….the whole of which is life...

Die to each moment; die to each memory and die to each event
and each day - and thus is there constant renewal and the ever new,
and so one sees for oneself there is truly no fear in death.




E


…equanimity is priceless...there is no need for wildness in joy or agony;
as the tides come and go so do our mental states, and all that we consider
bad or good….like the rise of the moon, or the coming of the stars
and the going of the stars are our emotions and our lives and our happiness
and sorrows….see them for what they are and equanimity dwells shining
within one always….





F


The free mind is the greatest blessing….Be free of conditioning and
be free of propaganda; be free of identity and of the group, and one is truly
free; be free of the past in all its forms as it arises in the mind as
remembrance of hurts and wrongs, and be free of the future as it arises
as constant planning and anticipation and unnecessary tension….

But what is the free mind? One is not free who allows it be defined
for one.

Be free of anyone who will teach you: there is no relative
freedom – only complete freedom…
During one’s meeting or interaction with another being – any being,
human or creature - be mindful of the question: Am I fair to this being?

And after one’s meeting or interaction with another being – any being,
human or creature - be mindful of the question: Have I been fair to this being?



G



There is grace in your heart, in your mind and in your very being…delve deep within and see it - let it glow, and that grace will show in the smoothness of your very movement and speech; and that grace will flow in your manner, and that grace will fill your life and each moment with peace, charm and joy….

God? I have no use for God as I have no use for clichés.

H


Neglect no aspect of your being – for each aspect of your being is necessary and good.

Find for yourself all dimensions of your being…see what happens and what you need in each dimension…be moderate and sufficient in each dimension, and there will be no tension there in any of your dimensions of your being, and thus harmony is yours….

I

Insight is when you can see beyond words and the intellect…as when one feels the presence of love and wisdom...let your insight and your intuition live and flourish – for to suppress it is to deny yourself wisdom and inner light…

Words are useless and mislead in the inner life and therefore it is in the light of insight and intuition that one has direct seeing of what actually is….

J


Rejoice in the joys of others...rejoice in the happiness of others…rejoice in
your own joy…find the joy within yourself and the joy in the world…



Be fair and just – not so that one may be loved by others or so one may escape punishment or so one may enter heaven, but be just for its own intrinsic beauty.

K


There is a kingdom within that is not by any other but oneself….there is chaos there if one rules unwisely, and there is joy and harmony if one enters
in wisdom….peace and harmony radiate there in that kingdom of your
own wisdom, and not by the power or grace or authority or wisdom of
others…No being, however mighty and however supernatural, can effect
order in there…The kingdom is only of oneself and yet in oneness…

Enter therefore your own kingdom wisely, enter in your own wisdom…




L


All that there is in the world is love….All the many and countless words
and revelations and traditions and systems are all but love….

All the world’s Holy Books and Revelations and Sermons are useless – there is only love…


The love in which there is conflict or tension, the love in which one
seeks to own or possess or to carve out a territory or group or personal
identity or salvation or gain or protection – that is not love…

The love that includes all and that excludes none, the love that knows
no hate or violence or tension or expectation or punishment
or reward – that is love….

We have allowed the idea and myth of God to replace the reality
of Love: forget about God for the only reality is Love…

We are liars…we are drugged by lies and
addicted to lies…but while it is easy to see the lies told to one or the
lies one tells others, it is more difficult to see the lies one tells oneself…

M


Be mindful of the moment….be mindful of one’s breath – of the breath as one exhales, as one inhales…be mindful of the emotion or thought that arises, that lives and that subsides…

....with no censure, no judgment, no labels, no memory-making and cherishing of experiences…be mindful too of walking or of sitting; be mindful of each act and thought…

And so does one live the moment and so thought and time - the past and future - lose their tyrannical hold on the mind…

N


Be mindful too of the nuances of the words we utter and use; be mindful of the nuances of one’s speech and actions and one’s silence and one’s inaction…






O


Observe with no imprint…observe with no judgment or residue…observe what actually is…

observing a tree

You see the tree….see what is; see it as it is, not with all of one's conditioning…you look…one does not form a judgment and an attachment and a craving for a repetition of this event - but just observe with no labels…no naming…one sees what is there before one without a name, for the name is the past…just observe what is…

observing the mind

One observes what is – one observes one’s mind, oneself - not as what authority says one is, but as one actually sees oneself; direct and straight seeing oneself…

One sees oneself without the conditioning and with no prejudice; one sees what actually is…

One observes the activities of the mind…one sees the emotion or thought that arises, as it lives and as it subsides…one does not name the emotion or thought, for to do so is to bring in conditioning which is the tyranny of thought; one does not label it and one does not feel guilt or like or dislike…one merely observes what actually is…

One who observes one’s mind knows oneself – not oneself as some abstract and superhuman eternal entity, but as one is….Not second-hand - but directly, for oneself...

Not as what tradition or scriptures or science or reports tell us what we are – but as one actually observes and as one sees what is…

How can one know anything without knowing oneself? Of what use is your knowing of all that you know without self-knowledge as you actually are, and not according to some theory or report or ideology?

P


There are things and events you have control of – and how you pace these that are within your control determines how much peace and quiet there is in your heart…

Know then the rhythm at which your mind moves and pace the events you
have control of at this rhythm…



For things one has no control of, one’s wisdom will bring a harmony between one and what faces one…

..inner peace is never lost; it’s always there just below the apparent surface of discord. One simply dives deep enough to see this peace that pervades and that never leaves one, though one may be distracted by insistent diversions…

Q


It may seem one’s life is a quest and one searches and searches - and yet in that moment of awareness, of full attention, one sees there is no search, there is no arriving – for it is always there, it is always here and now…

There is no such thing as a quest; there is no such thing as a search…





R


Rest well….one forgets in one’s hurry that simple rest can revitalize and bring freshness…

S

Speak gently, speak quietly; speak words that soothe and heal, and with no intent to hurt. Speak words that bring amity, calm and peace and not words that promote division, anarchy and discord.




T


Thought may be the remembrance of cultures and technology that move societies forward, but thought can be mostly of the past that is a burden…

Be free of the past then and make no memory of it; for the past restricts and narrows and confines, and not making a memory of it is freedom….

U


The world’s systems and hierarchy and Revelations aspire to drag everyone into uniformity and mediocrity…
To lead or to follow is to be mediocre – and the mediocre cannot allow independence…

This world of set formulas and systems despises free inquiry and wants to see each one of us the same in mind and habit and thought: it demands we crawl into its traditions and prescribed or revealed creed, and to fit into what it teaches is the way to be…

The world says this is the way things are and expects one to conform or to break…

Know what you are, know yourself - or the world subtly but swiftly transforms you into itself…

See what actually is rather than going the set ways of what one likes it to be or what should or ought to be or what is described to be …Discard all authority and see for yourself what actually is…

V


Let there be vigor in all things one does; let there be vigor in thought, in
one’s inquiry, in one’s speech and in one’s works and deeds.



The most inspired moment in one’s life is when vision unfolds
naturally within; dullness comes of conditioning and beliefs that are
the companions of complacent inquiry.




W


There is no treasure like the treasure of wisdom for with wisdom one sees
the unmediated truth of life and the radiant truth of lasting joy in all circumstances.

Wide is the world and yet we seek to cut it and to confine it
and to create borders; wide is the mind and yet many seek
to constrict it and to set up boundaries and to restrict its space.





X

Avoid extremes in all matters – for it is it is the wisdom of moderation that universally promotes balance, health, happiness and calm.




Y


In one’s intellect let there be maturity and completeness and the wisdom of ages; but in one’s inquiry into life let there be vigor and newness and perennial youth.







Z

There are no confined zones in true love: love knows no boundaries and love knows no borders – the wide universe is the very home of love.

That inner peace radiates in the stars and in the trees and in the grass; that inner peace radiates in the creatures of the earth and in all living things and in the very air…That inner peace pervades all beings, all life and all existence.

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Al Aaraaf

PART I

O! nothing earthly save the ray
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,
As in those gardens where the day
Springs from the gems of Circassy-
O! nothing earthly save the thrill
Of melody in woodland rill-
Or (music of the passion-hearted)
Joy's voice so peacefully departed
That like the murmur in the shell,
Its echo dwelleth and will dwell-
Oh, nothing of the dross of ours-
Yet all the beauty- all the flowers
That list our Love, and deck our bowers-
Adorn yon world afar, afar-
The wandering star.

'Twas a sweet time for Nesace- for there
Her world lay lolling on the golden air,
Near four bright suns- a temporary rest-
An oasis in desert of the blest.
Away- away- 'mid seas of rays that roll
Empyrean splendor o'er th' unchained soul-
The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense)
Can struggle to its destin'd eminence,-
To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode
And late to ours, the favor'd one of God-
But, now, the ruler of an anchor'd realm,
She throws aside the sceptre- leaves the helm,
And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns,
Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs.

Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth,
Whence sprang the 'Idea of Beauty' into birth,
(Falling in wreaths thro' many a startled star,
Like woman's hair 'mid pearls, until, afar,
It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt)
She looked into Infinity- and knelt.
Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled-
Fit emblems of the model of her world-
Seen but in beauty- not impeding sight
Of other beauty glittering thro' the light-
A wreath that twined each starry form around,
And all the opal'd air in color bound.

All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed
Of flowers: of lilies such as rear'd the head
On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang
So eagerly around about to hang
Upon the flying footsteps of- deep pride-
Of her who lov'd a mortal- and so died.
The Sephalica, budding with young bees,
Upreared its purple stem around her knees:-
And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd-
Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham'd
All other loveliness:- its honied dew
(The fabled nectar that the heathen knew)
Deliriously sweet, was dropp'd from Heaven,
And fell on gardens of the unforgiven
In Trebizond- and on a sunny flower
So like its own above that, to this hour,
It still remaineth, torturing the bee
With madness, and unwonted reverie:
In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf
And blossom of the fairy plant in grief
Disconsolate linger- grief that hangs her head,
Repenting follies that full long have Red,
Heaving her white breast to the balmy air,
Like guilty beauty, chasten'd and more fair:
Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light
She fears to perfume, perfuming the night:
And Clytia, pondering between many a sun,
While pettish tears adown her petals run:
And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth,
And died, ere scarce exalted into birth,
Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing
Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king:
And Valisnerian lotus, thither flown'
From struggling with the waters of the Rhone:
And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante!
Isola d'oro!- Fior di Levante!
And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever
With Indian Cupid down the holy river-
Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given
To bear the Goddess' song, in odors, up to Heaven:

'Spirit! that dwellest where,
In the deep sky,
The terrible and fair,
In beauty vie!
Beyond the line of blue-
The boundary of the star
Which turneth at the view
Of thy barrier and thy bar-
Of the barrier overgone
By the comets who were cast
From their pride and from their throne
To be drudges till the last-
To be carriers of fire
(The red fire of their heart)
With speed that may not tire
And with pain that shall not part-
Who livest- that we know-
In Eternity- we feel-
But the shadow of whose brow
What spirit shall reveal?
Tho' the beings whom thy Nesace,
Thy messenger hath known
Have dream'd for thy Infinity
A model of their own-
Thy will is done, O God!
The star hath ridden high
Thro' many a tempest, but she rode
Beneath thy burning eye;
And here, in thought, to thee-
In thought that can alone
Ascend thy empire and so be
A partner of thy throne-
By winged Fantasy,
My embassy is given,
Till secrecy shall knowledge be
In the environs of Heaven.'

She ceas'd- and buried then her burning cheek
Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek
A shelter from the fervor of His eye;
For the stars trembled at the Deity.
She stirr'd not- breath'd not- for a voice was there
How solemnly pervading the calm air!
A sound of silence on the startled ear
Which dreamy poets name 'the music of the sphere.'
Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call
'Silence'- which is the merest word of all.
All Nature speaks, and ev'n ideal things
Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings-
But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high
The eternal voice of God is passing by,
And the red winds are withering in the sky:-

'What tho 'in worlds which sightless cycles run,
Linked to a little system, and one sun-
Where all my love is folly and the crowd
Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud,
The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath-
(Ah! will they cross me in my angrier path?)
What tho' in worlds which own a single sun
The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run,
Yet thine is my resplendency, so given
To bear my secrets thro' the upper Heaven!
Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly,
With all thy train, athwart the moony sky-
Apart- like fire-flies in Sicilian night,
And wing to other worlds another light!
Divulge the secrets of thy embassy
To the proud orbs that twinkle- and so be
To ev'ry heart a barrier and a ban
Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!'

Up rose the maiden in the yellow night,
The single-mooned eve!- on Earth we plight
Our faith to one love- and one moon adore-
The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.
As sprang that yellow star from downy hours
Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers,
And bent o'er sheeny mountains and dim plain
Her way, but left not yet her Therasaean reign.

PART II

High on a mountain of enamell'd head-
Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees
With many a mutter'd 'hope to be forgiven'
What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven-
Of rosy head that, towering far away
Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray
Of sunken suns at eve- at noon of night,
While the moon danc'd with the fair stranger light-
Uprear'd upon such height arose a pile
Of gorgeous columns on th' unburthen'd air,
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,
And nursled the young mountain in its lair.
Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall
Thro' the ebon air, besilvering the pall
Of their own dissolution, while they die-
Adorning then the dwellings of the sky.
A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down,
Sat gently on these columns as a crown-
A window of one circular diamond, there,
Look'd out above into the purple air,
And rays from God shot down that meteor chain
And hallow'd all the beauty twice again,
Save, when, between th' empyrean and that ring,
Some eager spirit Flapp'd his dusky wing.
But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen
The dimness of this world: that greyish green
That Nature loves the best Beauty's grave
Lurk'd in each cornice, round each architrave-
And every sculptur'd cherub thereabout
That from his marble dwelling peered out,
Seem'd earthly in the shadow of his niche-
Achaian statues in a world so rich!
Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis-
From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss
Of beautiful Gomorrah! O, the wave
Is now upon thee- but too late to save!

Sound loves to revel in a summer night:
Witness the murmur of the grey twilight
That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco,
Of many a wild star-gazer long ago-
That stealeth ever on the ear of him
Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim,
And sees the darkness coming as a cloud-
Is not its form- its voice- most palpable and loud?

But what is this?- it cometh, and it brings
A music with it- 'tis the rush of wings-
A pause- and then a sweeping, falling strain
And Nesace is in her halls again.
From the wild energy of wanton haste
Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart;
And zone that clung around her gentle waist
Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart.
Within the centre of that hall to breathe,
She paused and panted, Zanthe! all beneath,
The fairy light that kiss'd her golden hair
And long'd to rest, yet could but sparkle there.

Young flowers were whispering in melody
To happy flowers that night- and tree to tree;
Fountains were gushing music as they fell
In many a star-lit grove, or moon-lit dell;
Yet silence came upon material things-
Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings-
And sound alone that from the spirit sprang
Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang:

''Neath the blue-bell or streamer-
Or tufted wild spray
That keeps, from the dreamer,
The moonbeam away-
Bright beings! that ponder,
With half closing eyes,
On the stars which your wonder
Hath drawn from the skies,
Till they glance thro' the shade, and
Come down to your brow
Like- eyes of the maiden
Who calls on you now-
Arise! from your dreaming
In violet bowers,
To duty beseeming
These star-litten hours-
And shake from your tresses
Encumber'd with dew
The breath of those kisses
That cumber them too-
(O! how, without you, Love!
Could angels be blest?)
Those kisses of true Love
That lull'd ye to rest!
Up!- shake from your wing
Each hindering thing:
The dew of the night-
It would weigh down your flight
And true love caresses-
O, leave them apart!
They are light on the tresses,
But lead on the heart.

Ligeia! Ligeia!
My beautiful one!
Whose harshest idea
Will to melody run,
O! is it thy will
On the breezes to toss?
Or, capriciously still,
Like the lone Albatros,
Incumbent on night
(As she on the air)
To keep watch with delight
On the harmony there?

Ligeia! wherever
Thy image may be,
No magic shall sever
Thy music from thee.
Thou hast bound many eyes
In a dreamy sleep-
But the strains still arise
Which thy vigilance keep-
The sound of the rain,
Which leaps down to the flower-
And dances again
In the rhythm of the shower-
The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass
Are the music of things-
But are modell'd, alas!-
Away, then, my dearest,
Oh! hie thee away
To the springs that lie clearest
Beneath the moon-ray-
To lone lake that smiles,
In its dream of deep rest,
At the many star-isles
That enjewel its breast-
Where wild flowers, creeping,
Have mingled their shade,
On its margin is sleeping
Full many a maid-
Some have left the cool glade, and
Have slept with the bee-
Arouse them, my maiden,
On moorland and lea-
Go! breathe on their slumber,
All softly in ear,
Thy musical number
They slumbered to hear-
For what can awaken
An angel so soon,
Whose sleep hath been taken
Beneath the cold moon,
As the spell which no slumber
Of witchery may test,
The rhythmical number
Which lull'd him to rest?'

Spirits in wing, and angels to the view,
A thousand seraphs burst th' Empyrean thro',
Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight-
Seraphs in all but 'Knowledge,' the keen light
That fell, refracted, thro' thy bounds, afar,
O Death! from eye of God upon that star:
Sweet was that error- sweeter still that death-
Sweet was that error- even with us the breath
Of Science dims the mirror of our joy-
To them 'twere the Simoom, and would destroy-
For what (to them) availeth it to know
That Truth is Falsehood- or that Bliss is Woe?
Sweet was their death- with them to die was rife
With the last ecstasy of satiate life-
Beyond that death no immortality-
But sleep that pondereth and is not 'to be'!-
And there- oh! may my weary spirit dwell-
Apart from Heaven's Eternity- and yet how far from Hell!
What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim,
Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn?
But two: they fell: for Heaven no grace imparts
To those who hear not for their beating hearts.
A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover-
O! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over)
Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known?
Unguided Love hath fallen- 'mid 'tears of perfect moan.'
He was a goodly spirit- he who fell:
A wanderer by moss-y-mantled well-
A gazer on the lights that shine above-
A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love:
What wonder? for each star is eye-like there,
And looks so sweetly down on Beauty's hair-
And they, and ev'ry mossy spring were holy
To his love-haunted heart and melancholy.
The night had found (to him a night of woe)
Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo-
Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky,
And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie.
Here sat he with his love- his dark eye bent
With eagle gaze along the firmament:
Now turn'd it upon her- but ever then
It trembled to the orb of EARTH again.

'Ianthe, dearest, see- how dim that ray!
How lovely 'tis to look so far away!
She seem'd not thus upon that autumn eve
I left her gorgeous halls- nor mourn'd to leave.
That eve- that eve- I should remember well-
The sun-ray dropp'd in Lemnos, with a spell
On th' arabesque carving of a gilded hall
Wherein I sate, and on the draperied wall-
And on my eyelids- O the heavy light!
How drowsily it weigh'd them into night!
On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran
With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan:
But O that light!- I slumber'd- Death, the while,
Stole o'er my senses in that lovely isle
So softly that no single silken hair
Awoke that slept- or knew that he was there.

'The last spot of Earth's orb I trod upon
Was a proud temple call'd the Parthenon;
More beauty clung around her column'd wall
Than ev'n thy glowing bosom beats withal,
And when old Time my wing did disenthral
Thence sprang I- as the eagle from his tower,
And years I left behind me in an hour.
What time upon her airy bounds I hung,
One half the garden of her globe was flung
Unrolling as a chart unto my view-
Tenantless cities of the desert too!
Ianthe, beauty crowded on me then,
And half I wish'd to be again of men.'

'My Angelo! and why of them to be?
A brighter dwelling-place is here for thee-
And greener fields than in yon world above,
And woman's loveliness- and passionate love.'

'But, list, Ianthe! when the air so soft
Fail'd, as my pennon'd spirit leapt aloft,
Perhaps my brain grew dizzy- but the world
I left so late was into chaos hurl'd-
Sprang from her station, on the winds apart.
And roll'd, a flame, the fiery Heaven athwart.
Methought, my sweet one, then I ceased to soar
And fell- not swiftly as I rose before,
But with a downward, tremulous motion thro'
Light, brazen rays, this golden star unto!
Nor long the measure of my falling hours,
For nearest of all stars was thine to ours-
Dread star! that came, amid a night of mirth,
A red Daedalion on the timid Earth.'

'We came- and to thy Earth- but not to us
Be given our lady's bidding to discuss:
We came, my love; around, above, below,
Gay fire-fly of the night we come and go,
Nor ask a reason save the angel-nod
She grants to us, as granted by her God-
But, Angelo, than thine grey Time unfurl'd
Never his fairy wing O'er fairier world!
Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes
Alone could see the phantom in the skies,
When first Al Aaraaf knew her course to be
Headlong thitherward o'er the starry sea-
But when its glory swell'd upon the sky,
As glowing Beauty's bust beneath man's eye,
We paused before the heritage of men,
And thy star trembled- as doth Beauty then!'

Thus, in discourse, the lovers whiled away
The night that waned and waned and brought no day.
They fell: for Heaven to them no hope imparts
Who hear not for the beating of their hearts.

poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Publishers

I write letters, cut cd’s,
mail parcels and let emails heap up,
but my words are blown away
like specks of sand in a gale.

I sometimes wonder
why feelings and life
can blind you for a time with hope
and if the haste for profitability,
lets merit die along the way
and if everything
has to be eaten by the power of reality.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Clear Signs

See, when you lift your eyes to the sun,
It fills your body with warmth and light.
Spreading through the mind giving respite,
As if a miracle has been spun.

So precious is its heat healing rays,
We feel so alive each time it shines.
Looking all the while for the clear signs,
That the day becomes sunny, through the haze,

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Thank The Geckos

Thank the geckos for bringing smiles
thank the geckos for all the while.
All the while they are here on Earth
geckos are special from thet time of their birth.
Thank the geckos, for they feel too
thank the geckos who help you.
Geckos help you when you are feeling blue
I know they were there for me this summer
that much is true.
So thank the geckos one more time
thank the geckos who are divine.

poem by Suzae Chevalier
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Bed Of Roses

On a bed of roses you lay
For here you shall stay
Your time has come it is the end
For now you can not mend
Goodbye to the world goodbye to you
It is time to say Adeu
For the time has come for you to leave
It is a blanket of life you weave
For now you say 'I must sleep,
Although I shall not wake please don't weep,
For I am happy and my heart is steady,
I am now ready'
On a bed of roses you lay
For here you shall stay

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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