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How do you know, right now, that you are aware of being aware, or conscious?

quote by Henry Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Is She Conscious

Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Is She Conscious

Is she conscious
Is she really wide awake?
Is she conscious
Of her beaatiful mistake?
Is she conscious
As she moves among the crowd?
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Shes got thw world upon a piece of string
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Is she asleep or just afloat?
Is she conscious
Of the letter that she wrote?
Is she conscious
Of the music in her ears?
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
As she moves across the room?
Is she conscious
Of the weeping of the moon?
Is she conscious
As she leaves the door ajar?
Is she conscious
As she gets into the car?
I dont even wanna say her name
I dont even wanna say her name
Thats all
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
I wanna sing it from the toppest tower
Thats all
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
The queen of sheba could have shined her shoes
Its so
He was ugly and she was beautiful
He was ugly and she was so
Is she conscious
Of the chauffeur as he drives?
Is she conscious
As the ambulance arrives?

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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It Is Not

Conscious of structure.
Conscious of order, law and discipline.
Conscious of those to whom is given respect.
Conscious of tradition and ideals...
And the effect this has on one's mindset.

Conscious of a faith that goes much deeper,
Than the faking of an acceptance of rituals.

Conscious of life,
And the limits of it lived.
Conscious are those,
Who are aware that this life...
Is much more than it is perceived,
It is!
Since it is not what we have been led to believe.
And a consciousness of those conscious of this,
Is what has been received.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Affluenza

An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps

And it's hard,
For them...
To sacrifice their trinkets.

How will they live,
Without their bangled baubled beads?

But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
Since that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps
How will they live,
Without those bangled baubled beads?
The ones they use to wear around to get the people teased.

But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
But that affluenza suffered has gone.
And a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
Since that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
But many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
Since a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
And that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.
But many with pretensions hate to have it even mentioned.
Since a healing has to happen if they want a conscious back.
And that conscious that they had has laid them flat on their back.

Yes,
An affluenza suffered has gone.
Moan on.
But they've got to snap back.
Because that affluenza traps
Moan on!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Know Their Name

I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. Their father used to drive a light blue chevrolet
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name. I saw their picture in the paper yesterday
I know their name. I saw the story that was written on the page
I know their name. They had a dog that used to answer to Barney
I know their name. I used to play with them they lived a block away
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
(La guitar)
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their name.
I know their name. I used to play with them I swear I know their
I know their name. I know their name. I know their name.
I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I say:
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I I I I I I I know their name. I know. I know. I know their name.
I say. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know
I know their name. I know. I know (their name)
I know their name.
I know their name.
I know their name

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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6 Minutes Of Pleasure

Six minutes, six minutes
Six minutes, six minutes
(Sample)
I know why you're here
I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know why you're here
I know what you're doing
I can see it in your eyes you're up to somethin
I know what it is, but we're still cool
And we can socialize, I'm peepin ya baby
I'm holdin back I'm not lettin go
Cause a fool doesn't have a shoulder to cry on
So, give me a kiss and you service
Whether you like a mister or a miss
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
(LL Cool J)
Baby you're my dear I know why you're here
I know why you came I know what you're thinkin
I know what you need and that's what I've got
You think I'm goin crazy no I'm not drinking
I know what you want, I made ya want it
Take my hand listen to the man
You have a plan don't even risk it
What do you want a biscuit?
(Chorus sample in the background)
(LL Cool J)
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me
I know why you're here
But I ain't sayin nothin
Aiyyo baby I know you don't love me

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beating On Your Drum With A Conscious Done

Beating with a meaning when you come,
Thumping on your drum!
Bummy dee bum dee bum.
Beating with a meaning when you come,
Thumping on your drum!
Bummy dee bum dee bum.
Bummy dee bum dee bum.

Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!

When you come.
Beating on your drum with a conscious done.
Know your parade has faded.
When you come.
Know each beat you keep is overdone.
No one there is left to feel,
The zest and zeal you hope appeals.

Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee the dummies when all dummies have gone.
Bummy dee the dummies when the dummies run!

Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee the dummies when all dummies have gone.
Bummy dee the dummies when the dummies run!
Bummy dee the dummies with the honey and the money.

When you come.
Beating on your drum with a conscious done.
Know your parade has faded.
When you come.
Know each beat you keep is overdone.
No one there is left to feel,
The zest and zeal you hope appeals.

Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee the dummies when the dummies run!
Bummy dee the dummies with the honey and the money.

Bummy dee bummy dee bummy dum!
Bummy dee the dummies when the dummies run!
Bummy dee the dummies with the honey and the money.

Beating on your drum with a conscious done.
Bummy dee the dummies with the honey and the money.
Beating on your drum with a conscious done

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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You Know My Name

You know my name
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
Good evening and welcome to slaggers
Featuring denis o'bell
Come on ringo, let's hear it for denis
Good evening
You know my name
Better look up the number
You know my name
(that's right) look up the number
You you know you know my name
You you know you know my name
You know my name
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Look up my number
You know my name
That's right look up the number
Oh you know you know
You know my name you know you know you know my name.
Huh huh huh huh
You know my name
Ba ba ba pum
Look up the number
You know my name
Look up the number
You-a you know you know my name
Baby you-a you know you know my name
You know my name you know you know you know my name
Go on denis, let's hear it for denis o'bell
You know my name you know you know you know you know you know my name
Prrr you know my name and the number
You know my name and the number you know you know my name
Look up me number
You know my number three you know my number two
You know my number three you know my number four
You know my name you know number too
You know my name you know my number
What's up with you?
You know my name
That's right
Yeah.

song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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Psychological Warfare

This above all remember: they will be very brave men,
And you will be facing them. You must not despise them.

I am, as you know, like all true professional soldiers,
A profoundly religious man: the true soldier has to be.
And I therefore believe the war will be over by Easter Monday.
But I must in fairness state that a number of my brother-officers,
No less religious than I, believe it will hold out till Whitsun.
Others, more on the agnostic side (and I do not contemn them)
Fancy the thing will drag on till August Bank Holiday.

Be that as it may, some time in the very near future,
We are to expect Invasion ... and invasion not from the sea.
Vast numbers of troops will be dropped, probably from above,
Superbly equipped, determined and capable; and this above all,
Remember: they will be very brave men, and chosen as such.

You must not, of course, think I am praising them.
But what I have said is basically fundamental
To all I am about to reveal: the more so, since
Those of you that have not seen service overseas—
Which is the case with all of you, as it happens—this is the first time
You will have confronted them. My remarks are aimed
At preparing you for that.

Everyone, by the way, may smoke,
And be as relaxed as you can, like myself.
I shall wander among you as I talk and note your reactions.
Do not be nervous at this: this is a thing, after all,
We are all in together.

I want you to note in your notebooks, under ten separate headings,
The ten points I have to make, remembering always
That any single one of them may save your life. Is everyone ready?
Very well then.

The term, Psychological Warfare
Comes from the ancient Greek: psycho means character
And logical, of course, you all know. We did not have it
In the last conflict, the fourteen-eighteen affair,
Though I myself was through it from start to finish. (That is point one.)
I was, in fact, captured—or rather, I was taken prisoner—
In the Passchendaele show (a name you will all have heard of)
And in our captivity we had a close opportunity
(We were all pretty decently treated. I myself
Was a brigadier at the time: that is point two)
An opportunity I fancy I was the only one to appreciate
Of observing the psychiatry of our enemy
(The word in those days was always psychology,
A less exact description now largely abandoned). And though the subject

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Reed
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Avon's Harvest

Fear, like a living fire that only death
Might one day cool, had now in Avon’s eyes
Been witness for so long of an invasion
That made of a gay friend whom we had known
Almost a memory, wore no other name
As yet for us than fear. Another man
Than Avon might have given to us at least
A futile opportunity for words
We might regret. But Avon, since it happened,
Fed with his unrevealing reticence
The fire of death we saw that horribly
Consumed him while he crumbled and said nothing.

So many a time had I been on the edge,
And off again, of a foremeasured fall
Into the darkness and discomfiture
Of his oblique rebuff, that finally
My silence honored his, holding itself
Away from a gratuitous intrusion
That likely would have widened a new distance
Already wide enough, if not so new.
But there are seeming parallels in space
That may converge in time; and so it was
I walked with Avon, fought and pondered with him,
While he made out a case for So-and-so,
Or slaughtered What’s-his-name in his old way,
With a new difference. Nothing in Avon lately
Was, or was ever again to be for us,
Like him that we remembered; and all the while
We saw that fire at work within his eyes
And had no glimpse of what was burning there.

So for a year it went; and so it went
For half another year—when, all at once,
At someone’s tinkling afternoon at home
I saw that in the eyes of Avon’s wife
The fire that I had met the day before
In his had found another living fuel.
To look at her and then to think of him,
And thereupon to contemplate the fall
Of a dim curtain over the dark end
Of a dark play, required of me no more
Clairvoyance than a man who cannot swim
Will exercise in seeing that his friend
Off shore will drown except he save himself.
To her I could say nothing, and to him
No more than tallied with a long belief
That I should only have it back again
For my chagrin to ruminate upon,
Ingloriously, for the still time it starved;

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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The Eternal Kansas City

Chorus (choir singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city? )
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city? (do you know the way to kansas city)?
(van singing)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Train down to st. louis
Get me there alright
Over to the city there, you know that one
Where the farmers daughter digs the farmers son
Dig your charlie parker
Basie and young
Witherspoon and jay mcshann
They will come
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Excuse me do you know the way to kansas city?
Lady liberty in waiting
You know she lights the way
Her name is billie, shes a holiday
And the city is eternal -- hey, cant you see?
Its inside of you and its inside of me
Oooowoooowoooo
Chorus (van and choir in background)
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city?
You know, you know the way to kansas city ?
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city
Wild thing
You know the way to kansas city (choir only)
Thank you man (van)
You know the way to kansas city
Sing it (van)
You know the way to kansas city (van and choir)
Hit it (van)
You know...the way to kansas city
You know...the way to kansas city

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ninth Book

EVEN thus. I pause to write it out at length,
The letter of the Lady Waldemar.–

'I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you this,
He says he'll do it. After years of love,
Or what is called so,–when a woman frets
And fools upon one string of a man's name,
And fingers it for ever till it breaks,–
He may perhaps do for her such thing,
And she accept it without detriment
Although she should not love him any more
And I, who do not love him, nor love you,
Nor you, Aurora,–choose you shall repent
Your most ungracious letter, and confess,
Constrained by his convictions, (he's convinced)
You've wronged me foully. Are you made so ill,
You woman–to impute such ill to me?
We both had mothers,–lay in their bosom once.
Why, after all, I thank you, Aurora Leigh,
For proving to myself that there are things
I would not do, . . not for my life . . nor him . .
Though something I have somewhat overdone,–
For instance, when I went to see the gods
One morning, on Olympus, with a step
That shook the thunder in a certain cloud,
Committing myself vilely. Could I think,
The Muse I pulled my heart out from my breast
To soften, had herself a sort of heart,
And loved my mortal? He, at least, loved her;
I heard him say so; 'twas my recompence,
When, watching at his bedside fourteen days,
He broke out ever like a flame at whiles
Between the heats of fever . . . 'Is it thou?
'Breathe closer, sweetest mouth!' and when at last
The fever gone, the wasted face extinct
As if it irked him much to know me there,
He said, Twas kind, 'twas good, 'twas womanly,'
(And fifty praises to excuse one love)
'But was the picture safe he had ventured for?'
And then, half wandering . . 'I have loved her well,
Although she could not love me.'–'Say instead,'
I answered, 'that she loves you.'–'Twas my turn
To rave: (I would have married him so changed,
Although the world had jeered me properly
For taking up with Cupid at his worst,
The silver quiver worn off on his hair.)
'No, no,' he murmured, 'no, she loves me not;
'Aurora Leigh does better: bring her book
'And read it softly, Lady Waldemar,
'Until I thank your friendship more for that,

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Let Yourself Be Aware Of Depth

Recognize minimize limits,
From inside and decide...
To reach beyond,
That which divides.
Close your eyes in boundless darkness.
Know all wants and wishes,
Come from this.

Let yourself be aware of depth.
And...
Let your imagination,
Be swept away.

Let yourself be aware of depth.
And...
Let your imagination,
Be swept away.

Recognize minimize limits,
From inside and decide...
To reach beyond,
That which divides.

Let yourself be aware of depth.
And...
Let your imagination,
Be swept away.

Close your eyes in boundless darkness.
Know all wants and wishes,
Come from this.

Let yourself be aware of depth.
And...
Let your imagination,
Be swept away.

Let yourself be aware of depth.
And...
Let your imagination,
Be swept away.

The Earth...
Is part of the Universe.

Let yourself be aware of depth.

From birth...
We come to Earth to nourish.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Seventh Book

'THE woman's motive? shall we daub ourselves
With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft clay
And easily explored. She had the means,
The moneys, by the lady's liberal grace,
In trust for that Australian scheme and me,
Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands,
And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed,
She served me (after all it was not strange,;
'Twas only what my mother would have done)
A motherly, unmerciful, good turn.

'Well, after. There are nettles everywhere,
But smooth green grasses are more common still;
The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud;
A miller's wife at Clichy took me in
And spent her pity on me,–made me calm
And merely very reasonably sad.
She found me a servant's place in Paris where
I tried to take the cast-off life again,
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, stands up
To let them charge him with another pack.

'A few months, so. My mistress, young and light,
Was easy with me, less for kindness than
Because she led, herself, an easy time
Betwixt her lover and her looking-glass,
Scarce knowing which way she was praised the most.
She felt so pretty and so pleased all day
She could not take the trouble to be cross,
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her shoe,
Would tap me softly with her slender foot
Still restless with the last night's dancing in't,
And say 'Fie, pale-face! are you English girls
'All grave and silent? mass-book still, and Lent?
'And first-communion colours on your cheeks,
'Worn past the time for't? little fool, be gay!'
At which she vanished, like a fairy, through
A gap of silver laughter.
'Came an hour
When all went otherwise. She did not speak,
But clenched her brows, and clipped me with her eyes
As if a viper with a pair of tongs,
Too far for any touch, yet near enough
To view the writhing creature,–then at last,
'Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's name,
'Thou Marian; thou'rt no reputable girl,
'Although sufficient dull for twenty saints!
'I think thou mock'st me and my house,' she said;
'Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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0995..... Supreme Truth

We know who is Super Star and Supreme Star
More so, we are more interested in their personal life
Ever wanted to know what Supreme Truth is?
Ever interested to ponder on above line?

Love is Truth, Affection is Truth, Compassion is Truth,
Friendship is Truth, Peace is Truth, Universe is Truth, Atom is Truth
Mountain is Truth, Earth is Truth, Sun is Truth, Truth is Truth
There are Millions of Truths; but one could be the ‘Supreme Truth’

What is the Supreme Truth? Truth of All Truths?
Truth that sustains all Truths is the Supreme Truth
That which is Beyond ‘Time’ and ‘Space’ and Eternal
That which is the one and only is Supreme Truth

We are Born, Live and Die; Earths, Suns, Stars and Galaxies do die;
Lights, Sounds, Nations, Religions, Castes, Money, all will vanish oneday;
Nothing in Space-Time region will last forever and Die one day;
Anything out of Space-Time Horizon can only exist for ever

Everything is Consciousness; Consciousness sustains everything
The seen and unseen are two realms of Consciousness
An Electron is conscious of velocity and angle to rotate
Chairs, Sticks, Stones Books, He, She, It and all have Consciousness

Consciousness is Dormant in Few, Explicit in Few, That’s Truth.
Every object is conscious of what it is; They can’t exist otherwise
What way will Knowing Consciousness help me?
Listen carefully, for this may change all your perspective
Consciousness Infinite is, The God in Absolute Form

Consciousness is on a Big Agenda;
To express itself in many forms and Evolve
We are latest creations in 13.73 Billion Years in River of Consciousness;
We were Sticks and Stones one day; You and I Today

Know it or not we are Evolving; Evolution is an upward march
All of us are from same fountain of Consciousness
Is Buddha a fool to renounce his Princedom in search of Truth?
Consciousness little unplugged is Happiness;
Consciousness fully Unplugged is Bliss (Cosmic Consciousness)

Be more conscious; Be full of Awareness of your doings;
You can evolve faster and faster; Being Conscious can
Speed up your Karmic path, avoiding many cycles of Births and Deaths
We cannot not exist; We are Gods in the making; Time only counts;
Be more Conscious; Consciousness is the only –‘The Supreme Truth’

(28-03-2010, Chennai)

poem by Gan Chennai
Added by Poetry Lover
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You And I Know

They ask why do we live love die do we
Take a chance maybe ask a dance do we
Risk the pain never quite regain never
Oh we bleed the dark never miss the mark never

Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know

They don't know of the place we go lover
All the blues are green nothing in between lover
And when the darkness falls through the fine glass walls lover
Oh it makes the sound of the outward bound lover

But you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh

Well they're looking right through me
And back into themselves
And I'm thinking that they knew me
When they laugh at someone else

Well you and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
You and I know I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
Oh I know you and I know you and I know
I know
Yes

song performed by Melissa Etheridge
Added by Lucian Velea
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Calculated With 'Come-Hither' Stares

Aligning and finding the mind is attached,
To that Great One who knows...
All that we sow and reap to adapt,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But...
We do because it is what 'we' choose.
Believing our shoulders are for this to be used.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!

Learn to remove those unconscious traps.
Calculated with 'come-hither' stares,
Alluring to seduce with temptations to induce...
Senses of despair to bear,
More than we should carry on our backs.
But do because it is what 'we' choose.
The Great One has nothing to do with that!

Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware.

Be aware,
Of those calculated with 'come-hither' stares.
Be aware of them.
Be aware of them.
Be aware!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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