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Ties (some random thoughts)

Ties
Their threads
Spread far and wide

Ties
Bind by love
Bind by duty

Ties
Given by blood
Given by self

Ties
Some sustain
Some break

Ties
Freedom to be, held loosely
Resilient, stay the course

Ties
Nurtured by mutual love and respect
Will bind, hold lifelong and beyond

Ties
Nurturing parent gardener
Mentoring teacher spiritual guide

Ties
Let fly high kite like
Delve deep, scuba diver

Ties
Lets tie self to self
Be one with soul

Ties
Lets bind self universally
Rivers joining the ocean

Ties
Their threads
Spread far and wide

Ties
Bind by love
Bind by duty

Ties
Given by blood
Given by self

Ties
Some sustain
Some break

 ties
ultimately-virtual or real
all unravel in death
The chains of love are never binding as when the links are made of gold.
Royall Tyler

Love is a binding force, by which another is joined to me and cherished by myself.
Thomas Aquinas
Author Nationalities, Comedian Quotes

No written law has ever been more binding than unwritten custom supported by popular opinion.
Carrie Chapman Catt
American, Activist Quotes

Women’s fashion is a subtle form of bondage. It’s men’s way of binding them. We put them in these tight, high-heeled shoes, we make them wear these tight clothes and we say they look sexy. But they’re actually tied up.
David Duchovny
American, Actor Quotes

Hate traps us by binding us too tightly to our adversary.
Milan Kundera
Czechoslovakian, Writer Quotes

The 8 Equities: Physical, Spiritual, Psychological, Intellectual, Emotional, Financial, Social and Family
Michael Vance
American Creativity Expert, Lecturer
 

Companionship

I was one
Tottering and stabling
Got a partner and became two

I was one
Achievements gave joy
Yet something missing

When two
Shared joys doubled
All emotions enhanced

I was one
An island of self
Loneliness devoured

When two
Things tackled easily
Two heads better

I was one
One plus one
Invincible eleven

When two
Nature kicked in
Became three

I was one
All gains and joys
Turned sawdust

When two
All blows and pats
Shared n dared equally

I was one
Strong winds bent me
Together, became unshakeable

I was one
All cooked delicious food
Turned not so in solitude

Companionship is necessary in life
It reinforces us, our very being
Friends, companion provide zest

no matter of what ilk or hide

no matter how many legged

we all need the companionshp comforter
The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friendship.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
 

It is wrong to think that love comes from long companionship and persevering courtship. Love is the offspring of spiritual affinity and unless that affinity is created in a moment, it will not be created for years or even generations.
Khalil Gibran
Ultimately the bond of all companionship, whether in marriage or in friendship, is conversation
Oscar Wilde
 

A Path Through The Forest Of Life

I want to cut me a path through life’s forest
Accepting its gauntlet in my hands, thrust
I want firsthand experience, raw, at its barest
Standing firm and erect on my own, boldest

Living in the other shadows is easy, secure
Will give taste of life, only secondhand, a bore
I want to turn gray in the sun by myself n more
Spurning constant spoon feeding, that I abhor

Choosing a path full of roses is easy and wise
Yet I wonder if that’s where my happiness lies
Adventurers and seafarers blazed their own paths
Disdaining all well trodden roads and footpaths

The quest of life’s mystery, solving its meaning
Is not for the fainthearted nor for the weakling
It requires iron will, firm resolve and a spirit, willing
I choose this path for myself, all butterflies quelling

Spanning uncharted seas ever canopied by brilliant skies
Traversing virgin regions, finding new peaks each sunrise
Finding lost cities and civilizations that, all mankind, chastise
Relics, treasures proving all is temporary, transient, will demise

 I want to cut me a path through life’s forest
Accepting its gauntlet in my hands, thrust
I want firsthand experience, raw, at its barest
Standing firm and erect on my own, boldest

Yet the true path through the green verdant forest
Is to delve within self, blossoming, becoming richest
Life’s mysteries will then vanish, no matter how deepest
Self enlightenment will dispel dark, shining life the brightest

The best lightning rod for your protection is your own spine.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
1803-1882, American Poet, Essayist
The best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your own arm.
Source Unknown

Hardship and opposition are the native soil of manhood and self-reliance.
John Neil
No one can be great, or good, or happy except through the inward efforts of themselves.
Frederick W. Robertson

At the bottom no one in life can help anyone else in life; this one experiences over and over in every conflict and every perplexity: that one is alone. That isn’t as bad as it may first appear; and again it is the best thing in life that each should have everything in himself; his fate, his future, his whole expanse and world.
Rainer Maria Rilke
1875-1926, German Poet
More power than all the success slogans ever penned by human hand is the realization for every man that he has but one boss. That boss is the man - he - himself.
Gabriel Heatter
American, Journalist Quotes
 
 

Fatigue

Today my two feet threw in the towel, calling it quits
The grounded twins, without warning, robbed my wits

The left foot went east, the right foot veered west
The big toe in cahoots with little toe, set me a test

The heels and the foot tops both radiated pain upwards
Transmitting shivers of high voltage tingles, the dastards

The calves, dimpled knees and thighs crashed miserably caving
Groaning and moaning their collective overweight bearing

My hips and back proved no gentlemen either
Gleefully joined the gang and wouldn’t them, tether

The loner stomach, with a mind of its own, stayed apart
But ribs and collarbone corroborated pins n needles of pain darts

The neck engaged in balancing the head and the mighty mind
Became a rudderless weathervane, shifting gears driven by wind

The brain held a conference call with all the senses
And declared conclusively that fatigue had indeed set in
 
The luster of diamonds is invigorated by the interposition of darker bodies;
the lights of a picture are created by the shades; the highest pleasure which
nature has indulged to sensitive perception is that of rest after fatigue.
Samuel Johnson
1709-1784, British Author

Our fatigue is often caused not by work, but by worry, frustration and resentment.
Dale Carnegie
1888-1955, American Author, Trainer

Nothing is so fatiguing as the eternal hanging on of an uncompleted task.
William James
1842-1910, American Psychologist, Professor, Author

Great is the power of habit. It teaches us to bear fatigue and to despise wounds and pain.
Marcus T. Cicero
c. 106-43 BC, Great Roman Orator, Politician

Men weary as much of not doing the things they want to do as of doing the things they do not want to do.
Eric Hoffer
1902-1983, American Author, Philosopher

When one is happy there is no time to be fatigued; being happy engrosses the whole attention.
Edward Frederic Benson
1867-1940, American Author

Unicorn- Pure And Gentle

O Unicorn
Gentle and pure of heart

Let me be that child again
Pure and gentle of heart

Let me thrive on yonder milky cloud
Fragile, delicate, innocent, proud

Tainted world, amoral, pawned honors
Dirty cesspools, back-stabbers, vultures

Beckon vigorously, sinking bottomless hole
My feet dig in fighting for a secure foothold

Soul in outstretched palms, heart in my mouth
I beseech woefully, looking east, west, north, south

Desperately searching for my elusive unicorn
Come rescue me from me, I plead forlorn

Badgered by world, soul tainted, sodden
I need to recapture lost innocence, shrunken

From depths of despair, this fallen angel
Wants forgiveness , succor, transformation

Let me ride you O magnificent equine
Recovering my childlike luster, sunshine

Pure, gentle unicorn, mythical or real
Sip, suck out life’s poisons, big and trivial

Let me ride you across the beckoning galaxies
Exuberance regained, crossing all boundaries

O Unicorn
Gentle and pure of heart

Let me be that child again
Gentle and pure of heart

Unicorn is special among the creatures of legend. They are very powerful yet vulnerable.
 Marianna Mayer has observed (The Unicorn and the Lake), “The unicorn is the only
 fabulous beast that does not seem to have been conceived out of human fears.
 In even the earliest references he is fierce yet good, selfless yet solitary,
 but always mysteriously beautiful. He could be captured only by unfair means,
 and his single horn was said to neutralize poison.” (from internet)

“Like a lion, without fear of the howling pack; like a gust of wind, ne’er trapped in a snare;
 like a lotus blossom, ne’er sprinkled by water; like me, like a unicorn, in solitude roam.”

–Hymn of Buddha

   

 

The Duplicate

He was born with face like a clear slate
At very outset, life taught him to imitate

His features were such, he could all replicate
Every nuance, every emotion, and thus placate

Friends and family, all delighted up to the brims
His personality superimposed with others’ whims

He was sad and hurt at his odd lot, at the initial outset
Caving in slowly, gracefully accepting all that life begot

Gradually his own true persona was relegated to the attic
His duplicate self strutted about in forefront, quite slick

Lost in various personas being enacted at the moment
He would delve at times, searching for lost self and lament

His quest came up empty handed, original self, long shredded
Sacrificed at the altar of the psuedo mammon he had wedded

In terms of worldly success the duplicate had it all and then some
But the constant faint throbbing heartache felt, made him glum

Having tasted prosperity and feeling world was his oyster
He now wished to make amends, and become his own master

He looked at the mirror and tried to find original lost self from fake
All he saw were shards of various personas come together in a mosaic

He screamed in pain and misery, realizing all that had glittered, was phony
It was too late to mend his life’s guitar n create his own original symphony

  
Your manuscript is both good and original; but the parts that are
 good are not original, and the parts that are original are not good.
Samuel Johnson
1709-1784, British Author

What a strange vanity painting is; it attracts admiration by
 resembling the original, we do not admire.
Blaise Pascal
1623-1662, French Scientist, Religious Philosopher
 

A Morning Vision- a spectacle

Throwing off the covers, I rose from bed
Climbing blindly, following where my nose led
 
The coffee was brewing in the automatic percolator
Grabbing a cup, sleepily made my way to the elevator
 
Reached top floor and stepped into the serene roof terrace
Sniffing fresh air before revving body for the daily rat race
 
Sitting in the cane armchair throwing off my mules
I suddenly saw a vision that made my mouth drool
 
On the terrace across, was a Greek god engaged in exercise
My teen spirit leapt, hopping to view this gift of golden sunrise
 
My cervical spondylitic neck got a big boost as it craned
My feet stood on tippy toes stretching fully as sleep waned
 
The perfect abs, the flat stomach, the biceps and that face
All made me wish fervently for a super vision with x-rays
 
My lumbar region too stretched and strained looking hard
My coffee lay cooling, as my poor body did a quick jumpstart
 
My daily ritual of sitting on a sofa and watching yoga tapes
Doing my bit only as couch potato now made me ashamed
 
I realized that no matter how old one is chronologically
To keep the spirit young one must exercise the body, daily
 
Of course the incentive across was all too enticing
So I donned my yoga wear and came out of hiding

A few quick deep breaths, a quick sucking in of the belly
Straightening  the shoulders and stretching upwards fully

A full ten pushups, one spot mile walk, made me a dynamo
Now, in for a penny in for a pound, I guffawed with gusto

Attracting his attention was my intent, I eagerly looked across to see
Alas my Greek God had left,  I only beheld a tomcat and a buzzing bee
 

We are under exercised as a nation. We look instead of play.
 We ride instead of walk. Our existence deprives us of the
 minimum of physical activity essential for healthy living.
John F. Kennedy
1917-1963, Thirty-fifth President of the USA
 I sometimes wonder if the hand is not more sensitive to the beauties
 of sculpture than the eye. I should think the wonderful rhythmical
 flow of lines and curves could be more subtly felt than seen.
 Be this as it may, I know that I can feel the heart-throbs of
 the ancient Greeks in their marble gods and goddesses.
Helen Keller
1880-1968, American Blind/Deaf Author, Lecturer, Amorist
 Don’t worry about your physical shortcomings. I am no Greek god.
Don’t get too much sleep and don ‘t tell anybody your troubles.
Appearances count: Get a sun lamp to keep you looking as though
 you have just come back from somewhere expensive: maintain an
 elegant address even if you have to live in the attic.
 Never nickle when short of cash. Borrow big, but always repay promptly.
Aristotle Onassis
1906-1975, Turkish Born Shipping Magnate

The Swallow

The swallow flew in the unfolding sky
My dreams too soared with it, as high

Handful of ambitions and hopes mingled in harmony
The bouquet of my life held in the vase of destiny

The vase lay centered in the center table of my life
In four domestic walls that were my joy and pride

Worldly riches and amenities were plentiful, with
Understanding mate and progeny, oh so beautiful

Yet the bouquet veered towards the lighted window
Ambitions and hopes rearing heads in sheer bravado

Cannot there be two shining suns in the firmament I ask
Why suppress my creativity unfulfilled and merely bask

Is my destiny always to stay back and play second fiddle
Can I not also shine in tandem, cracking this life’s riddle

Place my vase near the lighted window and let the flowers breathe
Let bees and butterflies hover, manufacturing nectar to bequeath

Allow my fragrance to escape and burst forth in the air
Let blooms of my ambitions and hopes shine in life’s fair

Granted a single swallow does not a summer make
Yet it is the harbinger of good tidings to come, in its wake

The swallow flew in the unfolding sky
My dreams too soared with it, as high

Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them,
 but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead.
Louisa May Alcott
 

 One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese,
 cleaving the murk of March thaw, is the Spring.-Aldo Leopold
The question that is so clearly in many potential parents minds: ”Why should we
 stunt our ambitions and impoverish our lives in order to be insulted and
looked down upon in our old age?” -Joseph A. Schumpeter
1883-1950, Austrian-American Economist

Copyright © 2007 Bina Gupta Poetry