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Arthur Schopenhauer

Compassion is the basis of morality.

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Love & Compassion

I used to think love was a dying art
Compassion couldnt live within a crowded heart
I saw my freedom in a poor mans eyes
Hope like a light, will to survive
A sense of dignity to hold up high
These are the simple things
That keep us all alive
And though the rich buy power for a time
One thing that money cant buy
Chorus
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love...youre gonna feel love...
Ooo... feel love... youre gonna give love)
One night when I was feelin all alone
I saw a shadow walking in the danger zone
I knew that I would have to make a choice
Hunger in my heart, hunger in my spirit
We wont be free until we equalize
The price of power to the price of every life
And though I know its gonna take some time
Someday were all gonna find
Love and compassion
(onlv) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes to relate
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
(oniy) love und compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love... ooo feel love... youre gonna
Feel love... if you give love)
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
(only) love und compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me

[...] Read more

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Compassion

You want more, and still more,
Until you get more than you ever bargained for.
Now its plain, clear as rain,
Ive seen your symptoms many times before.
Lying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
What are riches untold in a life without compassion?
For theres no winter as cold
As a life without compassion.
Theres no prescription thats sold
That can heal you like compassion.
Well you tried and you cried,
And let your disappointment make you hard inside.
You have doubt, you reach out,
Still youre the only one you care about.
Hiding in your sack of woe
What do you need now?
For there is nothing so sad
As a life without compassion.
And even love has turned bad,
It was love without compassion.
And you dont need what you had
cause you did not have compassion.
Dying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
Youll get no judgment from me,
I can only feel compassion.
And if thats what you need,
I will give you my compassion.
Just dont forget about me
cause we all need some compassion.
Open up your heart
So you can start to feel compassion.
Get down on your knees,
Pray to heaven for compassion.
Everybody needs compassion.
If you want to be healed
Then you know you got to feel compassion.

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Patrick White

Compassion Is The Sweetness That Enters

Compassion is the sweetness that enters
the wounded apple of knowledge after
you've taken your first bite out of it.
It's not an antidote to the facts of life and death.
And you should know by now if you've suffered at all,
and it's impossible not to from the moment you open your eyes,
the night is not a reward, nor the lantern of the light
that goes before you on a graveyard shift of the stars.
Compassion is the oldest instinct of the heart
and first muse of the mind that can taste only
the blowing blossoms and bitter green apples of the spring,
gripe brain, before it ripens like a sunset in your blood.

That's why the heart knows more about it than the head.
And I expect, on that basis, no one is more capable
of loving us who must doubt that we're worthy of love
to live up to the truth of it than the dead who can open
the tiny koans of the seeds at the core of things
like the lockets of fortune-cookies that break
like twisted cosmic eggs in a rush to spread their wings
like waterbirds who write the lyrics of their songs on the fly.

Words for the eye. Words for the ear. Words
for the voice of the wind like black walnut trees
and kites in a storm. And if you really know how to listen,
I mean if you can hear the wavelength of a black snake
swimming across your blood like a mantra
of terrifying, beautiful wisdom that keeps its secrets
to itself, or hear the unfathomable oceans in the black rose
whose petals and eyelids are always smashing
like white eyelashes in a squall of sunbeams
against the breakwater of a white dawn that passes
like an albino eclipse in a moonlit leper colony
of extinct black rhinos. If you even remotely
hear what I mean when I speak like this sleepwalking
through a dream grammar like a prophetic skull in a trance,
words that dance like light on the mindstream
rejoicing in the clarity of the voice that expresses
the hidden message encoded in the genes of the fireflies.

You have mouths. Speak for yourselves.
Some like lighthouses along the banks of life.
Some like thieves with searchlights for eyes on a bomber's night
when everyone is underground and the bummers are out
plundering the evacuated houses of the zodiac.
Might be the ravings of a star struck maniac talking to himself
to make sure nobody else is listening. Might be
the surrealistic lament of a Dadaist night bird
singing out loud in its sleep for things it doesn't know
it longs for, or maybe a lunatic is waxing prophetic

[...] Read more

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I'll Show My Passion

Come to me when,
Something's bothering you.
Come to me when you want to boo-hoo...
And I'll show my passion.
With compassion.

Come to me when,
Something's bothering you.
Come to me when you want to boo-hoo...
And I'll show my passion.
With compassion.

I'm not the one who sits around,
To put folks down like they're the clowns.
Without a passion.
Or show compassion.

I'm not the one who sits around,
To put folks down like they're the clowns.
I do show passion.
With compassion.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...
And I'll show my passion,
With compassion.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...
And I'll show my passion,
With compassion.

Give up your fears to feel,
My passion.
Give up your fears to feel,
Compassion.
Give up your fears to feel,
There's nothing that you have to prove...
Or be someone that isn't you.

Give up your fears to feel,
My passion.
Give up your fears to feel,
Compassion.
Give up your fears to feel,
There's nothing that you have to prove...
Or be someone that isn't you.

Come to me when,
You want to be hugged and close...

[...] Read more

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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

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Morality Make Beauty

Would the things you do
Make you beautiful
Probably
Surely we have two sides in everything
The two sides of beauty
You and you
Inside and outside
Ever and never
Inexhaustible and exhaustible

Let just start right here
Cosmetics made me looked beautiful
But I wander
How long would this last
When it is never hidden from the
Solemn standing sun
The sun shall shine
And tomorrow the sun shall dry this beauty away
Some call it old age
Why won't this beauty last?
Some also say old age annihilates beauty

Hey!
How long would you remain a secret to the majority?
You contemptuously say to cosmetic
Beauty maker
Is that what they call you?
Oh mercy you despicable

Morality makes you beautiful you
Morality makes you beautiful inside
Morality makes you beautiful for ever
Morality makes you your world beautiful

Your inside matters
The sun don't dry it up c
It hidden from the solemn standing sun
Morality overcomes the sun's annihilation
Let morality make you up
Behold drifting away shall your beauty not be
Forever shall it bloom as the sun shines

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Laughter and Compassion

Laughter and Compassion
Goes hand in hand
Are good medicine for the heart and mind
Not a direct problem solver but reduces stress
For I laughed at one's interpretation of POS
Of another's sarcasm
A cuddling party feels good

Laughter and Compassion
How I laughed and laughed
The laughter relaxed my body
The compassion rested my mind
Follows understanding
Without judgment
My shell broke free

Laughter and Compassion
To have compassion is to be human
During times of despair needed most
A hug
A kind act
Simple gestures
A smile
For a lack of compassion is a pity
Effects the emotional bearing environment
The pleasure of laughter
As without laughter, life is mundane
The human empathy of compassion
As without compassion, one is heartless
Catalysts for deeper problem
Are revelations

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Compassion and Anger

Compassion and anger were my only love
Came to me winging like a lonely dove
Gimme some loving from the Lord above
Compassion and anger

Down on the quayside things getting rough
Somebody trying to prove they are tough
Compassion and anger will soon call their bluff
Compassion and anger

Compassion and anger won't make you sad
Compassion and anger will just make you glad
What will you do when the world's turning bad
Without compassion and anger?

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Compassion

It is one's compassion,
And beliefs...
To alleviate a grief felt.
With a bringing to others...
A feeling of relief,
That is received and released.
To asist in the melting...
With a helping of it to go away.

Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.

That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.

Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.

It is not a style to maintain,
When the mood of it goes.
It is there to show,
With sincerity...
As it's received.

That is compassion,
Fashioned...
From understanding another's pain.

Compassion that is fashioned,
From a mode of action...
That one sustains.

Distress seems to be left,
Everywhere on one's path today.
Another who cares,
Isn't 'asked' to be there...
But is there,
Anyway.

And if asked to stay,
That one with compassion...
Will!

That one,

[...] Read more

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Sonnet: Compassion

Compassion is one thing we all expect
In life on earth, from womb to tomb endless;
In giving it, we seldom are perfect;
We live our life that is not just selfless.

The handicapped expect much compassion;
So does a newborn child suckled at breast;
Who cares about a beggar’s life’s passion?
Compassion is a must for ev’n a beast.

When God can shower compassion on us,
Why not all earthlings on one another?
If we can show compassion without fuss,
Much more will be bestowed on us, brother.

Compassion is an attribute of man,
And giving it is easy, if you can.

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Love Out Of Compassion

Love, materialistic, expects returns.
Love, physical, expects responses.
Love from compassion has no condition,
Where pleasure of loving is the reward.
To perpetuate only happiness
One must head towards love freedom compassion.

For others to be happy,
Practise compassion.
For you to be happy,
Practise compassion.
Love without compassion
Is body without life.

To get the impetus
To show compassion to one
Who is in expectation,
Imagine he would die soon,
And it would generate
In you enough pity.
Also imagine what would happen
When you were in his shoes.

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The Moral Rights

The moral rights of the author
have been asserted’… that, I’m told,
is what I should say when I write
anything for publication here; even before
I say anything..

It means, I guess, the more, the less..
than ‘Copyright’ which normally
gets printed just above it;
which just means, don’t copy this;

whereas ‘moral rights’ convey
so much more…
suggesting that I even possess morality;
which, considering my wild, undisciplined
former life, you might well question..

but note, I merely ‘assert’ them;
feel free to challenge them (you note that ‘rights’
are plural; plenty lawyer’s fees there
to say, well maybe this, not that…

and you’re free (your defending counsel may assert)
to copy my poem and put your own name to it;
since truth can be in no man’s sole possession,
and my poem, bless its metered tropes,
speaks naught but the truth..

though now I mention ‘truth’, I don’t recall
that phrase about the moral rights
upon the title-page of, let’s say,
the Gospels; Books of Moses; Qu’ran; Upanishads;
those guys on whom we’ve so long depended
to tell us what morality should be..

so please understand, that when I ‘assert’,
it’s more for my self-image than for yours;
makes me feel good; I must be
a serious author, if (in the subtext, scholars footnote)
the moral underpinning may be detected..

and that said – now to the poem.. Except
now I’ve forgotten what I was going to say..

Perhaps that, too, is a moral issue; but
I have the right to remain silent..
even if I’m up on this morality charge..

my defence is, that my Muse,
hearing the word ‘morality’,

[...] Read more

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Compassion and Understanding

Compassion and understanding may not remedy an inner city crisis or syndrome of poverty thus crime, divorce, single parent households and despair but it allows the church to not stereotype and judge in a false manner creating more alienation from the very ones we are trying to reach.
When our ideologies use simple maxims and platitudes that are subtly dismissive and condescending of a person a group of people we can actually insult them while we are trying to tell them about the love of Christ. The housing and ethnicity and immigrant levels are much different in a city like Lynn, Massachusetts then say Marblehead or Melrose, Massachusetts. Certain cities like Detroit, Michigan that were dependent on the automobile industry going through major lay offs will be different than other major cities not so affected; it is common sense in many ways. What is not common sense is the way the poverty and discrimination takes place and the way the politics deals with areas needing more help and better policies. Many of these people have lost their health care etc. Many who have lost their jobs by out sourcing are now almost looked at like leeches by the right wing. Many of these people are angry, frustrated and feel truly disenfranchised as they watch the rich given tax breaks and tax shelters. We need to hear them as we witness to them with love and compassion not label them or let superficial perspectives sum up their perspective and turn them away. They may have to forgive but we can't pretend there is nothing to forgive or their complaints and anger has no basis. So many of these people would never make it in a right wing church preaching the evil is over in the Islamic countries. I have been to these entrenched churches of right wing good and evil and they are so superficial. These churches will never preach the land Sabbaths and justice vision of the law of the Old Testament concerning poverty etc. They don't even support Health Care. They are loaded with nationalism and exalt capitalism and refuse to see the truth of Leviticus 25 and 26 and all the laws where a field could only be gleaned 1 time then the rest was for the poor. The laws that returned land back to the original families of the tribes of Israel every fifty years and who ever bought them had to return them to the family. No amassing of land etc. You'll never hear these sermons behind their pulpits. One recently called me a socialist for even talking about them but there in the Bible. Many of these churches say they love Israel but never tell you that the Israeli government of today has one of the best universal Health Care systems in the world. It really is a SHAME!
We actually used words like white trash when I was growing up with the innuendo that some groups of people don't want to better than themselves so this also was racist at times.
When we are closed to causes of how certain areas became poor with high crime rates and use superficial reasoning why we become less effective. When our ideology or politics refuses to understand reality and only see through our own politics etc we do not allow people to be fully understood or at times free to express themselves. When sociology and other view points of how areas and especially depressed urban areas got like they have are not looked at we cut ourselves off from understanding and compassion. The feeling of empathy has to be there but so does the intellect without barriers.
Slum landlords, changing laws that favor the wealthy and the influence of wealth on city, county and state councils all play apart in a persons story. Their anger, despair, fears and entire personality can be involved in the region they were raised in or come to and feel trapped in. The crime, the single mother raising the kids and many other factors factor in. Language and assimilating, housing in poor areas is much different than housing in neighborhoods not as affected so directly by poverty.
When plants leave a gap of money is gone in a poor area the situation can become desperate quickly. Some areas have 25% unemployment. The poverty, drugs and crime is off the chart. The single mother house holds is off the charts. If we were working with one of these women who has had children involved with crime and a daughter pregnant out of a relationship and she is bitter about the system and we try to throw at her nothing but rhetoric of individual responsibility and a right wing or left wing jargon we are wrong.
We may not be able to change the system around her but we can do our best to understand it. Right?
We are in changing times in the USA. Jobs have been out sourced for profit with out concern for sweat shops in other countries and environmental standards or USA workers. The victims are blamed. Many are called lazy and the new kind of white trash symbols and rhetoric emerges. The rich become richer and wage their class warfare. We are going to meet and work with more and more people in these kind of scenarios and we need to open our understanding and leave behind our stereotypes and perspectives that do not allow us to hear and see them and their situation for what it is. As the American dream for many diminishes the Gospel never does. We certainly do not need to preach nothing but a social Gospel or a socialist message of utopia as we near the Great Tribulation but we need to understand what so many of our brothers and sisters are going through and quit calling this understanding a false intellectualism. I see the Church of the Living God transcending politics and ideology in these last days while increasing in true brotherly love and compassion.

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Forsaking All Others Part 1

'NOT that you'll like him,' Nell said,
'No mystery - no romance,
A fine, stern, eagle-like head,
But he simply reeks of finance, -­
Started from nothing - self-made -­
And rather likes you to know it,
And now collects porcelain and jade,
Or some Seventeenth Century poet.

'Married in simpler days,
A poor little wren of a being,
Who exists to pray and praise,
And spends her life agreeing,
Thin and dowdy and pale,
And getting paler and thinner­
Well, the point of this dreary tale
Is I've asked them both to dinner.

'I'd leave her out like a shot,
For I'm not so keen about her,
But, my dear, believe it or not,
He won't dine out without her.
She has that terrible hold
That aging wives exert to
Replace young charms grown old­
Poor health and impeccable virtue.

'Lightly I asked them to dine,
And now I perceive the dangers,
My friends-yours and mine­
Are so terribly rude to strangers.
But you, dear girl, I can trust
To come and be brilliant and tender;
Vamp the man, if you must,
But give an impression of splendor.'

II

LEE sat before her mirror... rouged her lips,
Set dripping diamond earrings in her ears,
Polished a little at her finger tips,
Thought that she did not look her thirty years;

Thought, 'Poor dear Nellie's ill-assorted feasts!
I want to be as helpful as I can
Among that group of men and gods and beasts...
Why does she think I shall not like this man?

She made him sound entrancing... strong and crude,
Successful, dominant...I, who for so long

[...] Read more

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The Child Of The Islands - Winter

I.

ERE the Night cometh! On how many graves
Rests, at this hour, their first cold winter's snow!
Wild o'er the earth the sleety tempest raves;
Silent, our Lost Ones slumber on below;
Never to share again the genial glow
Of Christmas gladness round the circled hearth;
Never returning festivals to know,
Or holidays that mark some loved one's birth,
Or children's joyous songs, and loud delighted mirth.
II.

The frozen tombs are sheeted with one pall,--
One shroud for every churchyard, crisp and bright,--
One foldless mantle, softly covering all
With its unwrinkled width of spotless white.
There, through the grey dim day and starlit night,
It rests, on rich and poor, and young and old,--
Veiling dear eyes,--whose warm homne-cheering light
Our pining hearts can never more behold,--
With an unlifting veil,--that falleth blank and cold.
III.

The Spring shall melt that snow,--but kindly eyes
Return not with the Sun's returning powers,--
Nor to the clay-cold cheek, that buried lies,
The living blooms that flush perennial flowers,--
Nor, with the song-birds, vocal in the bowers,
The sweet familiar tones! In silence drear
We pass our days,--and oft in midnight hours
Call madly on their names who cannot hear,--
Names graven on the tombs of the departed year!
IV.

There lies the tender Mother, in whose heart
So many claimed an interest and a share!
Humbly and piously she did her part
In every task of love and household care:
And mournfully, with sad abstracted air,
The Father-Widower, on his Christmas Eve,
Strokes down his youngest child's long silken hair,
And, as the gathering sobs his bosom heave,
Goes from that orphaned group, unseen to weep and grieve.
V.

Feeling his loneliness the more this day
Because SHE kept it with such gentle joy,
Scarce can he brook to see his children play,
Remembering how her love it did employ

[...] Read more

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Compassion and Power

Compassion and power they flowed together
There was no force that these could tether
They both flowed from the Saviors heart
Compassion and power you cannot part


In order for to do His will
We need these two great assets still
Let him not think who would do so
That he can let compassion go


Compassion first and then the power
They both must work the self same hour
Without the first the second fails
Compassion, then the power prevails

Roy Jenkin

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For children to take morality seriously they must be in the presence of adults who take morality seriously. And with their own eyes they must see adults take morality seriously.

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Perplexity

Time changes
Changes every thing
From truth to beauty
Every thing is moving
From love to morality,

Love is now a butterfly
From this flower to that flower to flatter by
This flower does not have
That flower might have the desired pleasure
This cave does not have surprises
That cave might have the wonder!


Morality is now
A make up box, a mask
A means to meet the selfish end
A weapon man made
Twist and turn to suit the whimsical trade.
In the periphery of divinity now men is the guide
The car of the morality men now drive.

Truth remains not a truth at all
It keeps changing with time and place
Losing its beauty and divine grace
In the eyes and minds beauty is very restless
From the beginning permanently remains only the perplexity
In the life of bewilderment absolute is the paradoxical irony.

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Media morality

Media morality
~
a shout loud enough to echo
echo the claims in print
prove a media masterpiece
for the flavour of the month
that decided by others
as what we need to know
the secrets behind the lies
the truths in the shadows
question a worlds morality
all in the gloss of a headline
designed for us to buy into
a cash incentive opinion
ready made for quick sale
how the guilty judge
safe in glass houses
when we start to question
think for ourselves
we turn the camera to face
a media morality

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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

[...] Read more

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