Quotes about puzzle, page 24
The realised soul
hidden in bits and pieces
it works like a jigsaw puzzle
you meet, you see, you go
from here, there without
knowing the real picture
until one day you suddenly
realise the proding at your heart
- waves that crest to leave a
smooth surface you could write
all your dreams
the ultimate jigsaw that helps
make a picture whole
a life wholesome
and as you leave the island
the wind teases and smiles
with you as if in celebration of
having found a good company
with a realised soul
[...] Read more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Break Out 0509 - Initial Version
I've lived protected by those walls Time's wit
Lets stand a while, like pride before the fall,
Ignoring purposely the fact that all
Vain structures tumble down, and bit by bit
Earth into dust dissolves what man would knit.
Protection serves its purpose, for the wall
Relieves some pressures, gives the wherewithal
Of time to see life's puzzle pieces fit.
The time has come to quit false safety, split
Entrenched opinion whose scope seems so small,
Creation hinders, progress holds in thrall.
Turn then with me towards fresh future lit!
Each step to freedom leaves the past behind,
Destroying bias, liberates the mind!
(16 December 1991)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Love Sonnet 152 Pray, Tell Me, Why Creation Comes In Pairs
Pray, tell me, why creation comes in pairs,
Why goose be there, where so goes the gander,
Why should matching twains fill the beastly lairs,
Why the Lord parted joy, made me wonder;
Can't the wanting fool, feel happy alone,
Should emptiness cause loneliness to start,
Can't my passion be, just as cold as stone,
Why my longings been for my other part;
Truth salves in vain, hearts that writhe in pain,
Only when goose, would to its nest, return,
Will its brood, find life, complete again,
Even when mending bridges, that still burn;
.....Life's puzzle seems so purposely replete,
.....With missing pieces, for us, to complete.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Sleep As Endline.
what we must accept is that turning point
of simply remembering
pieces of self that we pick along the road
and reassembling them again like a robot
the jigsaw puzzle is nothing
our minds are no longer bothered by a clutter
the whistling man is picking daisies along the way
counting and plucking each petal like a girl
at the end of this waking and walking game
what do we really get?
not even memories, they fade like denims
what we have is perhaps a scent of dying roses
which reminds us of regret and hate and which
we finally throw away as trash
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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45 Equity
Oh Martin Sometimes your voice was the thunder Sometimes it
was the falling rain. Always it burst our hearts asunder..
and made them beat... empathic in pain.
*
A bee willing to hang upside down in drooping blooms
will harvest more honey. But the converse is not true..
those who work the hardest are not those who make the money.
*
He attempted to live by ten tenets.. he tried to all
to be tender, not to profit off of tenants
*
The puzzle master has an eye to each color splash, every unique
shape. The self realized master sees only the same blazing God in all.
-
Oh Martin is to all who like Martin Luther King have worked
for victories over racism.
poem by Saiom Shriver
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Break Out - 0509 - Current Version
S[h]e's lived protected by strong walls Time's w[r]it
Let stand too long, pride's ride before fast fall,
Ignoring purposefully fact that all
Vain structures tumble, tumbril hypocrite.
EDict: Earth's dust dissolves shawls man would knit.
Protection serves slight purpose overall,
Respite cannot postpone the final call
Of fate, death's date sees puzzle pieces fit.
The time has come to quit false safety, split
Entrenched opinions, narrow minds and small,
Creation hindered, progress held in thrall.
Turn thoughts towards tomorrow, future lit,
Each step to freedom leaves fell past behind;
Destroying bias, locks, unlocks blind mind.
(1 December 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Cusp Choice - 0548
Coincidence spins web when into place
life slips choice puzzle pieces in due time.
Flair/feeling twins awareness of fall, climb,
keys karmic scene between lines few dare face.
Dreams decode subtle signals, interface
past, present, future, patterns sees through grime,
aligning intersections, prose rerhyme.
Pace swift and slow tune into links to trace
instinctive correspondence, interlace
unique potential, untapped options prime,
deny the base which smothers in its slime,
Cause, effect, await cusp's state of grace.
"Chance" intercepts flow's waves, 'free choice' would bring
order into chaos, tune fate's [s]wing.
(15 January 2008)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The poems I love
There are poems that I envy,
poems that I admire and respect,
poems that simply sing to me,
poems that I puzzle over…
but the poems I most love -
they may be jewelled and adorned
with adjectives and adverbs,
similes and metaphors, (but
they must be enlightening, relevant,
making mind and heart to expand
in sheer exhilaration)
or they may be so quietly, humbly carpentered
that they say, I’m simply here to serve you…
but they all say to me with
shining eyes, as if
the world made new in that moment,
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Moon Is Still
The still moon was light enough for centuries,
Work rid the Earth of slumber, music and abilities.
I found in the midst of all tragedy in the world
A great sight of poverty, full in curiosity that unfurled
The carpet most pure for the lame and rich,
Egotistical behaviour missed the ditch.
I say on a month too merry why the sun was hot
In that day and night to celebrate a jackpot.
The luck ran a hundred miles on my legs,
Without breakfast, with energy and eggs.
The moon was our very satellite to read
Like a book, or a puzzle to solve indeed.
For years I have written these words, and on and on,
Fierce worship causes us to forsake the dawn.
poem by Naveed Akram
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It's a Puzzle
My friend
Is not my friend any more
She has secrets from me
And goes about with Tracy Hacket
I would get her back,
Only do not want to say so.
So I pretend
To have secrets from her
And go about with Alice Banks
But what bothers me is,
Maybe she is pretending
And would like me back
Only does not want to say so.
In which case
Maybe it bothers her
That I am pretending.
But if we are both pretending,
[...] Read more
poem by Allan Ahlberg
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