First Prev
of 4
Next Last
jackie

Levittown, PA

#1 Mar 27, 2011
*To Know All, Is To Forgive All*

If I knew you and you knew me-
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine
The meaning of your heart and mine-
I'm sure that we would differ less
And clasp our hands in friendliness,
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree
If I knew you, and you knew me.

If I knew you and you knew me-
As each one knows his own self,
We could look each other in the face,
And see therein a truer grace.

Life has so many woes,
So many thorns for every rose,
The "why" of things our hearts would see
If I knew you and you knew me.

Nixon Waterman

Since: Aug 07

Location hidden

#2 Mar 27, 2011
Trees and Other Poems (1914) Joyce Kilmer

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
When you think of love and fame
And all that might have come to pass,
Then don't you feel a little shame?
And don't you think you were an ass?I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Since: Jan 07

Location hidden

#3 Mar 27, 2011
=== The Tiger ===

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake. 17571827
jackie

Levittown, PA

#4 Mar 27, 2011
* A Wise Old Owl *

A wise old owl lived in an oak,
The more he saw the less he spoke,
The less he spoke the more he heard,
Why can't we all be like that bird?

Edward Hersey Richards
jimi

United States

#6 Mar 27, 2011
There was a young girl from Nantucket...oops wrong thread :)

“Mystical Atheism for everyone!”

Since: Nov 08

El Cerrito California

#7 Mar 27, 2011
On Death
Kahlil Gibran

You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
jackie

Levittown, PA

#8 Mar 27, 2011
jimi wrote:
There was a young girl from Nantucket...oops wrong thread :)
Yes jimi, I believe you are looking for the "Topsy is stinky thread", there you will find the girl from Nantucket holding a hose.

Now make sure when you get over there, that she does a good job with that hose getting all that filth off of herself!

Since: Feb 08

Herndon, VA

#9 Mar 27, 2011
I read this poem at 16 years old it stood out and I always remembered it but I'm not sure if this is the exact words as I'm going off of my memory:

One day at a time this is enough do not look back and grieve over the past for it is gone and do not troubled for the future for it has yet to come. live in the present and make it so beautiful that it will be worth remembering.

Ida scott taylor

Since: Feb 08

Herndon, VA

#10 Mar 27, 2011
Gareth wrote:
=== The Tiger ===
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
William Blake. 17571827
now that is a vivid poem nice
jimi

United States

#11 Mar 27, 2011
jackie wrote:
<quoted text>
Yes jimi, I believe you are looking for the "Topsy is stinky thread", there you will find the girl from Nantucket holding a hose.
Now make sure when you get over there, that she does a good job with that hose getting all that filth off of herself!
Can you rewrite this as a poem?

Since: Mar 09

United States

#12 Mar 28, 2011
I wrote this one...Its been published.

The Old House down the Street.

Its shades are drawn, the curtains torn, and carpets worn and bare. Its
many secrets, it conceals, of those who once lived there. Snowy winters,
came and went, the frost would fill the air. But, inside its walls, were
kept toasty warm by a fireplace's crackling fire. In spring, its windows
opened wide, to let a soft breeze in. Its yard turned green and flowers
grew, blown by a gentle wind. If its walls could talk, my, what stories
they would, say, of folks who went in and out its doors; of their
journey, on life's highway. The love that lived within its walls, a
child's laughter you can almost hear, just the echo of silence now,
bespeak of a bygone year. A wagon in the yard I see, now overgrown with
weeds, rusty and old, its axle bent, just a toy that no one needs. It
stands forlorn amid trees so tall, peeling paint, and doors that creak.
Its shutters, bent by a rustling wind, move slowly as if to speak. As I
turn to go, I think to myself, as I listen to its steady beat. It's just
another humdrum day for the old house down the street.
TPMP 35

United States

#13 Apr 9, 2011
***Conscience***

Conscience is instinct bred in the house,
Feeling and Thinking propagate the sin
By an unnatural breeding in and in.
I say, Turn it out doors,
Into the moors.
I love a life whose plot is simple,
And does not thicken with every pimple,
A soul so sound no sickly conscience binds it,
That makes the universe no worse than 't finds it.
I love an earnest soul,
Whose mighty joy and sorrow
Are not drowned in a bowl,
And brought to life to-morrow;
That lives one tragedy,
And not seventy;
A conscience worth keeping;
Laughing not weeping;
A conscience wise and steady,
And forever ready;
Not changing with events,
Dealing in compliments;
A conscience exercised about
Large things, where one may doubt.
I love a soul not all of wood,
Predestinated to be good,
But true to the backbone
Unto itself alone,
And false to none;
Born to its own affairs,
Its own joys and own cares;
By whom the work which God begun
Is finished, and not undone;
Taken up where he left off,
Whether to worship or to scoff;
If not good, why then evil,
If not good god, good devil.
Goodness! you hypocrite, come out of that,
Live your life, do your work, then take your hat.
I have no patience towards
Such conscientious cowards.
Give me simple laboring folk,
Who love their work,
Whose virtue is song
To cheer God along.

(Henry David Thoreau)
TPMP 35

United States

#14 Apr 9, 2011
Nomi wrote:
I wrote this one...Its been published.
The Old House down the Street.
Its shades are drawn, the curtains torn, and carpets worn and bare. Its
many secrets, it conceals, of those who once lived there. Snowy winters,
came and went, the frost would fill the air. But, inside its walls, were
kept toasty warm by a fireplace's crackling fire. In spring, its windows
opened wide, to let a soft breeze in. Its yard turned green and flowers
grew, blown by a gentle wind. If its walls could talk, my, what stories
they would, say, of folks who went in and out its doors; of their
journey, on life's highway. The love that lived within its walls, a
child's laughter you can almost hear, just the echo of silence now,
bespeak of a bygone year. A wagon in the yard I see, now overgrown with
weeds, rusty and old, its axle bent, just a toy that no one needs. It
stands forlorn amid trees so tall, peeling paint, and doors that creak.
Its shutters, bent by a rustling wind, move slowly as if to speak. As I
turn to go, I think to myself, as I listen to its steady beat. It's just
another humdrum day for the old house down the street.
Wow, Nomi.

This is an amazing poem.

I'm just going over this thread now and i noticed that you wrote it.

Beautiful!

TPMP 35

Since: Mar 09

United States

#15 Apr 10, 2011
Thanks TP...I have written many, had quite a few published. I love poetry. Most of mine are reflective...a look back to the past.
TPMP 35 wrote:
<quoted text> Wow, Nomi.
This is an amazing poem.
I'm just going over this thread now and i noticed that you wrote it.
Beautiful!
TPMP 35

Since: Mar 09

United States

#16 Apr 10, 2011
Another one of mine...

Winter's Magic
As sleepy towns awake to dawn, such beauty comes to view,
A white blanket greets the early sun, in place of the morning dew,
A soft Blanket of fallen snow makes everything seem new.
The icy air is everywhere, things glisten, as if on cue.
Man and breast will feel the sting as the cold fills the chilly air,
A small price to pay for this timeless scene so rare.
No time to wait, must concentrate, chores to be done, so much to do,
And see what another day brings, as time delivers hope anew.
Here and there and everywhere, icy crystals can be seen.
On limbs and trees, slippery roads, but it is a lovely scene.
There, a squirrel jumps and runs, making tracks through the icy mush.
Searching for food, no doubt, in the chilly quiet hush.
A spectacular array, is Winter's Magic, so bright, so pure, so clean.
fada oh fada

La Grange, IL

#17 Apr 10, 2011
Grandpasmurf952 wrote:
On Death
Kahlil Gibran
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.
In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honour.
Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?
For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?
Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.
And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.
And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.
Roses are red, Violets are blue,Jw's at my door is like Poo on my shoe!!!! Thank You!!
jackie

Levittown, PA

#20 Apr 24, 2011
jimi wrote:
<quoted text>
Can you rewrite this as a poem?
Sorry jimi, I do not have very good writing skills.
jackie

Levittown, PA

#21 Apr 24, 2011
Very nice poems Nomi, glad to see you came through you're surgery well, and I hope you're recovery is a strong one.

Take care nomi.
jackie

Levittown, PA

#22 Mar 26, 2012
Why Must We Fight

The wind blows softly,
The birds fly free,
The leaves fall quiet,
And calm is the sea.

The moon shines bold,
The stars shine bright,
Why can't we be gratefall?
Oh, why must we fight?
TPMP

Bronx, NY

#23 Mar 26, 2012
jackie wrote:
Why Must We Fight
The wind blows softly,
The birds fly free,
The leaves fall quiet,
And calm is the sea.
The moon shines bold,
The stars shine bright,
Why can't we be gratefall?
Oh, why must we fight?
Welcome back Jackie, I hope all is well with you.

Tell me when this thread is updated:

Subscribe Now Add to my Tracker
First Prev
of 4
Next Last

Add your comments below

Characters left: 4000

Please note by submitting this form you acknowledge that you have read the Terms of Service and the comment you are posting is in compliance with such terms. Be polite. Inappropriate posts may be removed by the moderator. Send us your feedback.

Jehovah's Witness Discussions

Title Updated Last By Comments
A 'Governing Body' or the Bible- which is Param... 21 min PVA 90
Who are the "Rich Man" and "Lazarus"? 42 min red blood relative 12
What Event marked the Start of the Gentile Times? 53 min BetheljudgmentDan... 132
Native American 10 Commandments (& other NA tho... (Nov '10) 1 hr BetheljudgmentDan... 5,522
Do Jehovah's witnesses believe in Jesus for sal... 2 hr CIA Free 334
Read a WT talking about massage parlors 2 hr Aneirin 9
Does "One" REALLY mean THREE? Seriously! 3 hr BetheljudgmentDan... 313
YES-Jesus WAS once known as Michael (Sep '14) 3 hr BetheljudgmentDan... 2,932
Poll How Will You Respond to Return to Jehovah booklet? 4 hr Nedoba 90
I found a video of KURT HENNIG AKA KDMENSCH. (Mar '14) 9 hr Ebony Experience 63
More from around the web