Quotes about expand, page 24
Surrounds and Magnifies
If life itself is not poetic...
With bewildering twists,
Adorned with abstract expressions
Worn to adapt
As one who is seen
Wearing an assortment of hats!
Then for some...
Who believe they have power
To censor and shun
What grows and blooms under the Sun...
Stunt their own growth,
With diminishing opportunities to expand
Limited minds already confined!
No matter who decides to live through it...
With eyes and ears closed.
Left to breathe in suffocating boxes.
Choosing to experience what 'is' unexposed.
They will always be 'outfoxed'...
By that which surrounds and magnifies.
An obnoxiousness encouraging misfits...
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Know You (elegy for that which we knew)
Memory splinters and cracks in soft traces,
Through multihued truths; forward suddenly.
Together, perchance, a seasonal grace,
We may both do by each other kindly
Cradles for You in the snowfields of Mind,
Sway in quivers of dark but light laughter.
Warm words through to a cold caress, sublime:
Honor that which I've asked of the Dreamer.
Serpentine eyes amid daisy head smiles,
Bespeak of desire, digress from nature.
Character crack-ups expand on a while;
While manifest circumstances mature.
Human conditions, initial; as such,
Bifurcate in the texture of chaos
Amid a noisome and frightening rush,
A crackling memory of futures, lost.
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poem by Jonathan Colby
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Joy To The Followers of The Lord
Joy to the followers of the Lord!
Thus saith the sure the eternal word.
Not of earth the joy it brings,
Tempered in celestial springs:
'Tis the joy of pardoned sin,
When conscience cries, 'Tis well within;
'Tis the joy that fills the breast
When the passions sink to rest:
'Tis a joy that, seated deep,
Leaves not when we sigh and weep;
It spreads itself in virtuous deeds,
With sorrow sighs, in pity bleeds.
Stern and awful are its tones
When the patriot martyr groans,
And the throbbing pulse beats high
To rapture, mixed with agony.
A tenderer, softer form it wears,
Dissolved in love, dissolved in tears,
When humble souls a Saviour greet,
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poem by Anna Laetitia Barbauld
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The Morning In The Country
When from the opening chambers of the east
The morning springs, in thousand liveries drest,
The early larks their morning tribute pay,
And, in shrill notes, salute the blooming day.
Refreshed fields with pearly dew do shine,
And tender blades therewith their tops incline.
Their painted leaves the unblown flowers expand,
And with their odorous breath perfume the land.
The crowing cock and chattering hen awakes
Dull sleepy clowns, who know the morning breaks.
The herd his plaid around his shoulders throws,
Grasps his dear crook, calls on his dog, and goes
Around the fold: he walks with careful pace,
And fallen clods sets in their wonted place;
Then opes the door, unfolds his fleecy care,
And gladly sees them crop their morning fare!
Down upon easy moss he lays,
And sings some charming shepherdess's praise.
poem by James Thomson
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Ceate a spirit
As you go through life you create a spirit, a force of attraction, as an adult a great deal of what you do in the process of individuation (and in therapy) is weed out the bad programming, the no longer useful attractor patterns of your past, while at the same time you expand on the attractor patterns that are beneficial for your expansion and for the emergence as well as the cultivation of latent forces in you, the more actively you engage in this, the more you make a path of least resistance for others, that is you positively influence others while you ad to the culture. The best results of this is that you give the children of your and future generations a better start, they go through life more free from outdated and destructive forces and more able to recognize as well as express the life affirming forces in themselves.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Inscription For A Gravestone
I am not dead, I have only become inhuman:
That is to say,
Undressed myself of laughable prides and infirmities,
But not as a man
Undresses to creep into bed, but like an athlete
Stripping for the race.
The delicate ravel of nerves that made me a measurer
Of certain fictions
Called good and evil; that made me contract with pain
And expand with pleasure;
Fussily adjusted like a little electroscope:
That's gone, it is true;
(I never miss it; if the universe does,
How easily replaced!)
But all the rest is heightened, widened, set free.
I admired the beauty
While I was human, now I am part of the beauty.
I wander in the air,
Being mostly gas and water, and flow in the ocean;
Touch you and Asia
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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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And Not a Drop to Drink.
She wanted to be in the sea,
and spread throughout each molecule and expand to each ocean.
She wanted to be the beauty of the sun's reflection
as it rises over the Atlantic Ocean in glorious gleaming ripples
and plants itself in the periwinkle sky.
She always said she'd be happy in the ocean.
'Sprinkle me over the San Fransisco Bay! ', she would say.
And I hear she hated the cold.
But, to this day, in the ground she does lay.
She wanted to be in the ocean,
where she'd be translated to the evaporating rain.
She could fall over her beloved garden
and kiss it with each droplet of an afternoon storm.
She would translate her love through the waves' lullabies
and gently rock sailors to sleep
and wander freely throughout the world,
a traveler,
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poem by Amanda Lukas
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The necessity of luxury
and what at some other time
I’d call a luxury – or others would –
it’s not, it’s – oh – rightness -
used rightly...
like now, aslant in the reclining chair,
the patio door open just enough
to bring air into the room,
March air which feels like the most
precious commodity, substance, gift, grace,
where, how, could I say;
and the book of poetry held loosely,
glanced at occasionally;
some phrases, some words, of Tom’s
growing timelessly, flowering,
seeding a generosity of new poems
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poem by Michael Shepherd
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Always Begging For More
at a certain point
there is a crisis be it
in your career
or marriage or friendship
or about
another love that constantly
keeps on meeting
you in the
street
like a beggar
or you can be that beggar
always asking
for what is not given
a mess
really
the unfulfilled self
keeps you running
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I will Exceed your Expectations
I am one in a billion that won’t make it in this world, that’s what they see me as…… but I am what I make me. I will dropp out of school my tenth grade year, that’s where they push me …… but ill go where life takes me. I will be pregnant before I graduate, that’s what they want….. But I have something better planned. I will die without love, that’s what they think……. But I don’t need a man. No one will ever hold me and care, that’s what they wish…… but God has my hand. I will die without a purpose fulfilled, that’s what they hope……. But my choices will expand. One day I will be president, that’s what they doubt......... but look who’s already proved you wrong. I will be better one day, that’s what they try to stop………… but that day has already gone! ! ! !
By: Breanna Givens
poem by Breanna Givens
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