Vestiges
Some vestiges of myself still remain…
Some are long gone in the mist of morrows
Some happy some sighing like my sorrows
Yet some still remain..
Pulling back the lacy curtain of my misty memories
I peek through frowning with wistful concentration
Trying to penetrate the foggy clouds of my hallucinations
Hanging on to some vestige of my reality..
A paradox it is, veritably, as I hang on to my sanity
What seems okay to me is actually a moot point with others
My reality is mine only as others look askance in negation
I perilously hang on to the remnants of me
Dried up fragments of flowers and pressed leaves are they
In the book of my life, their fragrance a happy memory
The association, an important part of me, lost in the mists
Of lost vestiges of me in the sands of time…
In these mazes of my mind I seek me in a dazed haze
They think I’ve lost it, yet I know that I am there somewhere
Curled up in self preservation against onslaught of other forces
Stitching tattered vestiges of me in a frenzy…
Am I a closed book gathering dust in peaks and troughs of my life
Trying to make it home under my own steam and no longer roam
The compass of my life gives mixed signals and clueless, I clasp
Tight to the remaining vestiges of me
I ask not for any pity or understanding or acknowledgements
My foibles and my idiosyncrasies aid me to retain me for me
Your memory now exists as those dried blooms in the book of my life
Now I exist in the vestiges of myself that belong to me only!!!
****************
I’m trying to eliminate every vestige of my own personality, style, approach and get into somebody else’s skin. Sometimes I feel I’ve accomplished it. But when I don’t, I’m nobody at all, having left myself at home.
Judy Holliday American, Actress
Teaching is leaving a vestige of one self in the development of another. And surely the student is a bank where you can deposit your most precious treasures.
Eugene P. Bertin
If your descent is from heroic sires, show in your life a remnant of their fires.
Nicholas Boileau 1636-1711, French Literary Poet, Critic
There is no such thing as death. In nature nothing dies. From each sad remnant of decay, some forms of life arise so shall his life be taken away before he knoweth that he hath it.
Charles Mackay British, Poet
Originally Published: December 24, 2008
- Join my Mailing List and be notified of new poems -
What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions, Happiness, Life, Metaphysical, Spiritual
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
RECONSTRUCTION – A NEW BEGINNING
Taking realistic stock of my four walls
I soon realized urgent need to overhaul
Can no longer fresh new feelings maul
Have to shed all obsolete ideas sans gall
Decision taken climbed atop the hill
Took lay of land surrounding my mill
Landscaping renovation can and will
Require many tools and electric drill
Gathered a surgical scalpel of healthy new habits
A scraper to remove grime of silly superstitions
A paintbrush dipped in pleasant shades of hope
A lawnmower to prune all preconceived notions
Nails of fresh bright ideas, mats of bright sunshine
Dappled patches of winds of change n moonbeams
Coating old dreams in fresh colors of emancipation
Emerging from stale shadows to join new generation
Strengthening with vitamins foundation of bent spine
Sweeping cobwebs of regrets with joys of turpentine
Thus total overhaul accomplished in the nick of time
Ready to walk in tandem with new crop on family vine
A New Beginning achieved…
Heart filled with equal measures
Of trepidation and excitement flutters
Ready to give life a chance -once again, NOW!!!
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.
- Seneca, Roman philosopher, mid-1st century AD
The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you
are not going to stay where you are. – author unknown
Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone
Can start today and make a new ending. – Maria Robinson
I know people who grow old and bitter. I want to keep making a fresh start. I don’t want them to defeat me. That would be suicidal. – Robert Wyatt English, Musician
The birth of the new constitutes a crisis, and its mastery calls for a crude and simple cast of mind – the mind of a fighter — in which the virtues of tribal cohesion and fierceness and infantile credulity and malleability are paramount. Thus every new beginning recapitulates in some degree man’s first beginning. – Eric Hoffer 1902-1983, American Author,
Every moment is a new beginning
Quan Dang
Originally Published: December 21, 2008
- Join my Mailing List and be notified of new poems -
What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions, Happiness, Life, Metaphysical, Spiritual
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
KNOWING ME BEING ME
Dissecting me fully
Every flitting thought
Captured studied earnestly
Every intention willfully
Worried and mulled over
Facing with squared
Shoulders bitter truth
I AM NOT WHAT I PROJECT
Myself to be, and My
Intent is diametrically
Opposite to what I write
And to what I think, say
And realization dawns that
I AM NOT NICE ACTUALLY!!
The day I start emanating
Those intentions that are
Of my own choosing
Of my personal liking
When speech and intent
Both merge and mean
One and same thing
Then and then only
Can I say with honesty
I mean every word as
Now I know my intent
Dovetailed with my word
Spontaneously without
Any force or coercion!!
NOW I am a person of my word
Comfortable in my own skin
Shedding masks and pretensions
False pride and pseudo bravado
Self -a pure kernel shorn of layers
Proud to have embarked upon
This journey of self-discovery
Defeating negative thoughts
Breaking false veneers imposed
By external forces and for self
Preservation, yet unnecessary
Cathartically cleansed swabbed
Purified blemish-less I am proud
To know me, have FOUND me!!!
*************************WWW.BINAGUPTAPOETRY.COM
The self is only that which it is in the process of becoming.- Kirkegaard
Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to get to that place where you don’t have to be anything else.- Source Unknown
Look into the depths of your own soul and learn first to know yourself, then you will understand why this illness was bound to come upon you and perhaps you will thenceforth avoid falling ill.
Sigmund Freud 1856-1939, Austrian Physician – Founder of Psychoanalysis
As person abandons worn-out clothes and acquires new ones, so when the body is worn out a new one is acquired by the Self, who lives within.
Bhagavad Gita c. BC 400-, Sanskrit Poem Incorporated Into the Mahabharata
No one is more interesting to anybody than is that mysterious character we all call me, which is why self-liberation, self-actualization, self-transcendence, etc., are the most exciting games in town.- Robert Wilson 1941-, American Theater Director, Designer
There comes a time in the seeker’s life when he discovers that he is at once the lover and the beloved. The aspiring soul which he embodies is the lover in him. And the transcendental Self which he reveals from within is his Beloved.- Sri Chinmoy
Originally Published: December 20, 2008
- Join my Mailing List and be notified of new poems -
What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions, Happiness, Life, Metaphysical, Spiritual
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
COMPOSURE
Composure lost, stretching OUT
Reaching shrinking shrieking within
Stifling muffling sniffles like piffles
Snuffing stamping wiping them out
COMPLETELY!!
Visiting meeting greeting
Smiling chatting gossiping
Cringing weeping crying
Sighing vying defying
TRYING!!!
SERENITY lost in fearful morass
Despair engulfs momentarily
Darkness descending crushing
Extinguished dispelling, sent
PACKING unceremoniously!!!
Happiness and sadness are two sides
Of SAME coin of life EVER spinning
Heads you win, tails I win, yet
Each phase will pass and I shall
Dynamite my current IMPASSE!!!
Composure lost, stretching OUT
Reaching shrinking shrieking within
Stifling muffling sniffles like piffles
Snuffing stamping wiping them out
COMPLETELY!!
*********************************
The beauty of the soul shines out when a man bears with composure one heavy mischance after another, not because he does not feel them, but because he is a man of high and heroic temper.
Man is a goal seeking animal. His life only has meaning if he is reaching out and striving for his goals
-Aristotle BC 384-322, Greek Philosopher
Without accepting the fact that everything changes, we cannot find perfect composure. But unfortunately, although it is true, it is difficult for us to accept it. Because we cannot accept the truth of transience, we suffer.-Shunryu Suzuki Japanese, Leader
Always keep your composure. You can’t score from the penalty box; and to win, you have to score.- Horace Greek, Poet
Genuine good taste consists in saying much in few words, in choosing among our thoughts, in having order and arrangement in what we say, and in speaking with composure.- Francois Fenelon French, Clergyman
Originally Published: December 19, 2008
- Join my Mailing List and be notified of new poems -
What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions, General, Happiness, Life
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Despair
D E S P A I R
E N U O G G A
S E C W O N G
P R K E N I E
O V I R I T H
N A N F S I E
D T G U I N L
E I L L N G P
N N I L G - L
T G F Y - - ESS
- - E - - NESS
****************
Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolutions.- Kahlil Gibran 1883-1931, Lebanese Poet, Novelist
Yesterday This Day’s Madness did prepare; tomorrow’s Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. – Edward Fitzgerald English, Poet
Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.-Charlie Chaplin
Tragedy, sadness, loneliness and despair taught me that life is really a beautiful thing; if it wasn’t I wouldn’t be able to recognize that anything was wrong
- Greg Evans Suspense Novelist
-
Originally Published: December 19, 2008
- Join my Mailing List and be notified of new poems -
What are your thoughts on this poem?Filed Under: Collection of Poems, Contemplative, Emotions