Quotes like say yes, do not misinterpret...

The Yes Man...

say yes,
do not misinterpret
say yes
only if you want to...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sometimes What You Cover With Your Hands

sometimes what you cover with your hands
if they misinterpret that
is not really intended for hiding
not the selfishness of your very own fingers
but
if they only know it by heart
are offerings asking
if you too are ready and willing to give them

the way you cover things are manners of asking
are you also willing to give
and give wholeheartedly without asking for
anything in return?

sometimes let me tell you
when i cover some lovely parts of myself
which you misinterpret again as
utter selfishness
nay, it is not the way you see things
skin deep
stones protruding on the low
ebbing of the season

sometimes let me tell you
when i cover the most vulnerable portion of my being
it is, in truth, just a manner of my asking
if indeed, in itself, and by itself,

if your love is true.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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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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I've had my ring since I was 12 years old. But for me it's not something I want to go around saying, 'Hey, look what I have', It's a promise I made to myself and God. I think some people misinterpret that as a trend and think everyone's getting one.

quote by Selena Gomez
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fragmentary Scenes From The Road To Avernus

Scene I
'Discontent'

LAURENCE RABY.

Laurence:
I said to young Allan M'Ilveray,
Beside the swift swirls of the North,
When, in lilac shot through with a silver ray,
We haul'd the strong salmon fish forth
Said only, 'He gave us some trouble
To land him, and what does he weigh?
Our friend has caught one that weighs double,
The game for the candle won't pay
Us to-day,
We may tie up our rods and away.'

I said to old Norman M'Gregor,
Three leagues to the west of Glen Dhu
I had drawn, with a touch of the trigger,
The best BEAD that ever I drew
Said merely, 'For birds in the stubble
I once had an eye-I could swear
He's down-but he's not worth the trouble
Of seeking. You once shot a bear
In his lair-
'Tis only a buck that lies there.'

I said to Lord Charles only last year,
The time that we topp'd the oak rail
Between Wharton's plough and Whynne's pasture,
And clear'd the big brook in Blakesvale
We only-at Warburton's double
He fell, then I finish'd the run
And kill'd clean-said, 'So bursts a bubble
That shone half an hour in the sun
What is won?
Your sire clear'd and captured a gun.'

I said to myself, in true sorrow,
I said yestere'en, 'A fair prize
Is won, and it may be to-morrow
'Twill not seem so fair in thine eyes
Real life is a race through sore trouble,
That gains not an inch on the goal,
And bliss an intangible bubble
That cheats an unsatisfied soul,
And the whole
Of the rest an illegible scroll.'

[...] Read more

poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Speaking Against ‘ Da Vinci Code’

What Jesus did until thirty
Years, isn’t mentioned in the Bible;
For next three years, he traveled wide,
To preach the Word of God’s Kingdom.

A busy man, a Master too –
With flock of Apostles behind:
He preached through parables to all,
And earned good respect ’midst people.

He spoke in parables;
He performed miracles;
His wisdom was so great,
That Pharisees did hate!

Yet, all the while, He knew His end!
A painful death on Holy Cross –
For sins of entire mankind;
He had His Father’s cause always!

Oh, what a sad life for young Christ!
His eyes revealed divine love first;
He had no time for romance, love;
His Father’s work was duty prime!

Like a man who knew His end was near,
He walked about praying, with fear;
He fasted often- bible tells;
Some laid snares to entrap Jesus.

Which doctor marries his patient?
Which lawyer weds his own client?
Do teachers marry own pupils?
These are’nt so common-place at all!

To say that Jesus was in love
With Mary Magdalene, that too,
Who was a known harlot those days:
Amounts to only blasphemy!

To speak wrong things about the Lord,
To lie about his personal life,
To misinterpret Bible’s words –
Are sins that God cannot forgive!

To slander about Christ’s conduct,
To spread false stories about him,
To hurt a Christian’s faith, beliefs –
Is but a work of Anti-Christ!

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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A massage of love

The religion has provided safe heaven
A way to attain salvation in troubled mind even
It is proposed with peace in mind
A definite solution and very kind

There is peace message with love
To live in complete harmony and believe
No hatred to any one of different nature
It is preached and made very sure

“Come to me and I shall protect”
The universal message was floated
Only be generous and kindly act
No one was to defy it and adversely react

No religion has differed in its concept
The people have seen torture and wept
It is their belief and supreme teachings
We are simply follower and listen to the preaching

No one has right to hijack the contents
Misinterpret it for personal interest with adverse comments
Some section of people are indulging in such movement
Right thinking people can only regret and lament

It is real bond and shield
It has provided us open field
We can try to reach the depth of essence
The God will definitely provide the way in presence

We are not blind follower
We can provide suitable answer
There is sage passage with refuge
We got to obey and can not refuse

Deep rooted eternal love for Lord Krishna
Calm water flowing in river Yamuna
It is story of Lord Krishna and his disciples
Never to be found any where based on principles

Lord Krishna spread the message of real love
How dearly he loved his disciples and believed?
Helped real one at need of an hour
It was indeed a great honor

Love for lord not hidden at heart
Even though He tried to be smart
Still felt loneliness by His absence

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Crucial Questions 0927 April 2005 Version

All life is link in chain which must evolve -
new day and night spin round the seasons' clock.
Karmic question: How can Mankind mock
its cycle which leaves little space to solve
the crucial questions before we dissolve
as dust, forgotten, before we mortals stock
answers up from counter culture shock?
None know ‘Why? , When? ' intrinsically involve
ken uncertain, self-fed, can't resolve
if lies are truths which life's latch may unlock.
Though sects upon 'Truth's' door may claim to knock
all misinterpret cause/effect revolve.
Ankh wisdom from within may find through Way
it asks itself if true to self can stay

poem by Jonathan Robin
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I have to depart

It never occurred to me that I have to depart
I shall leave behind all and unknowingly part
Nothing may accompany as part of the agreement
The clauses were endorsed but forgotten for the moment

It is gentlemen’s agreement and promise
It was agreed upon to leave behind upon demise
For one reason or another it was totally missed
I was lost in worldly pleasure and very much pleased

As is said in clear terms that death is certain along with birth
Whoever has come on earth may have to perish or meet with the death
No one is immortal or blessed with permanent seat
If that is impression then it is clear attempt to cheat

No diamonds, gold or pearls may accompany
It may be in possession or had by so many
It is of no use and this fact no one can deny
You will go empty handed even without single penny

Whole life has gone into search of illusory things
They were never meant to give joy or something
It was worldly requirement to stand high in public
You had no power to achieve it through magic

You were given a mandate to lead simple life with honor
Some mistakes on your part were to be considered as minor
You were to be given benefit of doubtful entity as human being
No one was afforded special powers even if being a powerful king

You are given a chance to be as humble as tree
You are master of your acts to play it free
No one may question your wisdom
Even if you misinterpret it as freedom

It is intoxication to push over near death
Total disregard to the norms of strict health
Amassing enough of useless wealth
What will be then following forthwith?

If all were to be left behind
Then what was the aim to find?
Why were we so impatient and blind?
Mad race with adoption of cruel ways without being kind

I knew from real heart that it is futile
The life was spent like water meanwhile
When time came for enjoyment and sit
I was declared immobile and unfit

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Message of love

A message of peace