classes ::: subject, josh, media,
children ::: Collected Poems (toc), poems (other)
branches ::: Collected Poems, poems

Instances, Classes, See Also, Object in Names
Definitions, . Quotes . - . Chapters .


object:poems
object:Poetry (josh)
class:subject
class:josh
class:media
--- MY POEMS

--- WHY WHY [2020-04-22]
  Why? why?
  What is the reason
  for this seeming inexplicable non-sense?
  Why does it do what it does?
  What forces at play, visible or not, come together to make it act so?
  

response to Sauls Covid video (2020-04-20)
  Trapped in a force-field of self-deceit,
  force-fed lies, no cries for the dead.
  Carefully weaving an environment of self-affirmed belief.
  There is a sickness in most of the atmosphere,
  of selfishness, hatred, dread and fear.
  I am trapped in the smallness of myself,
  let us meet, You and I, in heavens open air.

the Temple (2020-04-17)
  There is hope for all.
  For a saving Grace is at work
  in the Temple center.  

  Find the One there,
  amongst the Infinite Bodies of God,s
  who like a wish-granting fountain
  guides each part to its boundless absolute.

  


the Tower of MEM (2020-03)
  so he could through symbol, number, shape and form
  inventory his conscious mind with an infinite variation;
  dynamic, shining and integral.
  he constructed an endlessly extending tower to house each entity
  structuring it around the familiar decimal and cross
  formulating environments that called heavenly-forms to visit therein,
  or be born in conditions ideal.
  a Refuge of Peace, a Library Endless, a Temple of Light.
  refining, shifting, until resting in a higher settled orders
  it reveals the unfolding hidden laws and entities of unfolding perfection
--- older verses
  ;; populated it with the ideal materials
  ;; and interweaved amongst the furnished body
  ;; the new archetypal forms

2020-01-13
  He
  [stumbles]
  [in and out]
  the Circle
  [ignorant.]
  [Look!]


2020-01-13
  The Hunter pursues
  endlessly the Idea
  who formed all the Worlds
  2019-12-15
    patiently, pain staking, to meet,
    that great dawn to finally be breaking.
    by hammering planting posts in the side of my being.
    climbing the mountain side, with desperate, self-risk taking.
    
    may this scaffolding, be my way of taking new steps,
    for a great enlightened awakening.

  2018-12-08 4:23
    to the eye that sees
    infinitely conscious-
    jeweled-eye lattice
    - haiku I made trying to rework the one on okc

  here i am,
    sitting on the edge of infinity,
    looking down into the abyss,
    this gap, i deny divinity.
    this leap of faith
    seems to be a price too great.
    for though i gain it all, i lose my self.
    so i sit and wait.
    - september 11th 2015

2020-01-23
Who do I thank for this sweet potato?
  the Growers?
  the Government for giving me money for food?
    through the work of society and my past.
  Mother Nature?
  the entire Universe?
  God?

  A call to the bringers of the light
    The world, both inside and out, is full of darkness; a call to the bringers of the light, there is divine work to be done.
    Individual suffering need be not in vain. from nothingness universal nature slowly evolves all things into her divine form. the work is usually done subconsciously but we can also consciously offer up all that we are to this secret guiding force within all things. Everything is constantly changing as things transform in this process, who are we to become attached to a personal conception of the"right"? The right thing is independent of our opinions.
  the dark and windy pass - 04 25 2014
    looking out onto a dark and windy pass,
    with the faintest inner flame for a guiding light,
    that promises progressively brighter dawns,
    after each successively darker night.
    to the inner flame, I offer up all that I can as a sacrifice,
    building slowly a fire to withstand the storms of progress,
    so as I step out across the abyss of non-being,
    I can march forward fearlessly towards perfection, unseized by bitter winds.
    and when the flame is blown out by past nature, as it has been before,
    and when struggling to relighting it again amongst the storm
    providing the cover of faith and patience, so as to relight it with aspiration,
    until one finds finally the sunlit path of the soul across the unfolding of time.
  I Rarely Offer:
    2016-03-31 7:59 PM (created)
    2016-11-02 21:33 (editted)
    i rarely offer.
    but when i do: perfection.
    anytime without fail
    any moment; perfect.
    any thought, action or feeling offered becomes perfect.
    when you place an offering on the Holy Altar,
    it is no longer yours.
    And If all can be given,
    then all can be received.
    And still nothing is lost.
    Pray for the strength
    to offer up desire and ego
  
  the end and the means
    there is nothing to fear,
    because there is no-one to be afraid,
    a temporary illusion of a separate sense of self
    the end justifies the means
    for to be seemingly broken apart
    creates the need
    for us to bond at the heart
    to rejoin again
    as a greater whole
    more complexities
    to still unfold
    03 2014
  in the haunting emptiness of the night - 03 04 2014
    in the haunting emptiness of the night,
    sometimes wake monsters who take delight,
    in tormenting the self in its crippled solitude.
    for when lost without light, nor faith, nor friend,
    the swallowing darkness seems never to end,
    but please! open your doors and windows and turn on your phone,
    loudly cry out through the darkness unknown:
    "help me please, I am lost and alone, I seek refuge, this poor soul, child without home"
    for believe it or not, on the inside or out, there is someone who waits
    with love, peace, grace and passionate embrace.
    and though we all tread the darkness alone, its vast and unconquerable sea,
    we can take turns doing so, with some loving company.
    trust your friends will take you, completely as you are,
    or know you will find them, who will see you as a star,
    who will help enlighten you, when your spark seems to flicker.
    for we are all children who wander through the emptiness of night
    let us carry then our candle, to bring others, in the darkness, the light.
    thank you
  Evernote poem
    If I had Evernote, since the age of three,
    My brain would already be, in perfect harmony.
    Interwoven, connected strong, a three dimensional ever-changing song.
    Ever expanding, swift and vast, the entire universe in my grasp.
    The net result, now listen hear, is a vision- wide and crystal clear.
    Seeing parts and seeing wholes.
    A brain integrated, powers untold.
  the first pass:
    thinning of a veil or two on perception,
    a bit of splendor is revealed,
    with many atomic spaces illumined,
    a few shades richer and fuller.
    a few degree more turned,
    and a few steps closer.
    a bit stronger, reinforced.
    happier to lift a heavier load.
    - Joshua Belisle
    2016-05-04
  2016-04-08 10:29 PM
    i sit here quietly and wait / for heaven to descend down the gate / to spill down its glory as poems / from the great
    fount above; the unknown
    a poet as seer / a mind open and freer / not entralled in thoughts laws / able to see visions from God
    suhsi, delicious, divine / gives reason to life and to time / for life without sushi / surely would be poopy / sushi,
  delicious, divine
    at wireclub at night / rolling in poems of delight / i should really go back to study / but i am having a chat with a
    buddy
    fountain and fountain and gate / consciousness fountains are great / i drop weird words as of late / but i am in a
    unstable state
  2016-04-09 4:17 PM
    the world whorls round - in an unfolding spiral of space-time - forming the forms of the Formless - eventuating the pristine immaculate Divine
  april 15 2015
    you have destiny
    and it be great
    it is already unfolding
    it is never too late
  Sun King Magician
    I am the sun king magician
    Hold your course the plot thickens
    Sharing what you've been wishin
    Packing love on a mission
  april 15 2015
    which road to take
    i yet not know
    for there are many ways
    to which i could go
    is one better?
    is one best?
    what is my nature?
    no time to rest.
  I am amazing because - 2013
    Some of my thoughts and ideas are sublime
    My soul is fine when it shines it divine
    My love is blind hope you don't mind
    In due time; I am amazing I find
    Just had the interview, and then smoked a bowl at the bus stop and smoked 2 cigarellos*! Glorious. This shit is going to
    be intense.

  Two Paths Jan 29th 2012 9:33pm
    She liked bad boys,
    in other words rebels.
    I was a rebel of sorts,
    as rebels go against convention.
    I first revolted aimlessly,
    as I was against convention.
    This opened the door for post-conventionality.
    She was not ready for post-conventionally,
    but either was I.
    We met along the path.
  Jun15th 2012
    By the hand of fate
    Or just by chance
    Beings capable of love
    Expanding cosmic dance
    For myself is nothing
    That think I am a noun
    Life is surreal
    Small-mind unbound
  Rising - Jun15th 2012
    I am an angel, that fell from the sky,
    That landed so hard, I forgot I could fly.
    I came for a reason, to discover in time,
    When I open my heart and quiet my mind,
    The glorious truth that one can know,
    That heaven above is to be the heaven below.
    "Aum", feb 22nd '13
    I am
    and everything is
    both a whole and a part
    infinitely complex and simple
    in the vast space of nothing
    perfectly interconnected
    consciousness
    energy
  the Seven Steps through the Spiral Staircase by Joshua Belisle
    Safe and secure, food and shelter at night,
    but still tempted and twisted by fleeting pain and delight.
    If seduced by power and sacrifice be done,
    one can ascend despite where thy come from.
    If understanding of others has frozen like stone,
    one may not feel compassion and often alone.
    Then when limits in communication are gracefully cleared
    then no-thing is required to proceed up the stairs.
    For one must go backwards through the darkest of nights,
    even without reason as one's companion flash-light.
    To let go of everything; terror must be as a result of a suffocating identity,
    for to be one with the Kosmos, full and complete,
    ne must be nothing, pure being free
    For you are the climber, the ladder, the view,
    a limited perspective novel and true.
    Feb 20th?

  Karen - nov 25 2012
    Oh Karen!
    my princess baby boo.
    This is a poem of my love for you.
    I am deeply sorry that I can be:
    a poo-head when I am busy or just out of bed.
    But my love for you can never be dead
    For there are millions parts of you
    For which I deeply care.
    From your lovely smile,
    Or cute button nose
    To even your unique sleepy pinky toes.
    For this and more reasons
    I hope that you know
    That I am a part of you
    And you are never alone
    So wherever we go, when we come back
    Our love is our home, so lets not lose track
    Because something we confuse
    The short-term for long
    Because important things last forever
    And require a song.


  ######################################
  Crowning of the Magician (cento)
    This and a thousand other worlds,
    Forming as planned in the original Idea. (aurobindo, savitri)??
    The soul attracted leaned to the Abyss:
    It longed for the adventure of Ignorance - Sri Aurobindo, Savitri [455]
    The Descent into Night (auro, sav)
    The descent, sacrifice of the supreme
    [into] the heart of darkness
    [visions of self-harm, of other harm,]
    [existential dread]
    [looking for meaning in madness]
    It probed the void and found a treasure there.
    All knowledge rushes on him like a sea.
    All here can change if the Magician choose. (aurobindo, savitri)
    Let him estimate his strength, and take a vow which is within it, but only just within it. (crowley, magick)
    By the Flame one enjoys a treasure that verily increases day by day, glorious, most full of hero-power. - Sri Aurobindo,
    Hymns to the Rig Veda
    Plastic and passive to the all-shaping Fire - Sri Aurobindo, Savitri [112]
    nothing can turn you away from the duty you have chosen.
    Each part in us desires its absolute. - Sri Aurobindo, Savitri [170]
    If you are going through hell, keep going. (churchill)
    But there's is no turning back. (murakami)
    All evil starts from that ambiguous face.
    A peril haunted now the common air;

    "The magician's most important invocation is that of this Genius, Dmon, True Will, or Augoeides. This operation is
    traditionally known as attaining the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel...or Great Work,"

  Topics or elements for poem:
    From essential, lost, separative. Suffering and ignorance. Blindness and darkness. The quest, the goal. elements in the
    yoga. The mystery.
    Essential verses - song of the sunlit path

    All life is yoga.
    In the right view both of life and of Yoga all life is either consciously or subconsciously a Yoga. For we mean by this term a methodised effort towards self-perfection by the expression of the secret potentialities latent in the being
    andaa"highest condition of victory in that effort

see also ::: the Word, mantra, mental, overmind, the Book, the Message, persons






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--- OBJECT INSTANCES [15]


2.3.08_-_I_have_a_hundred_lives
4.2.01_-_The_Mother_of_Dreams
6.1.04_-_A_Gods_Labour
7.5.26_-_The_Golden_Light
7.5.61_-_Because_Thou_Art
7.9.20_-_Soul,_my_soul
All_Watched_Over_by_Machines_of_Loving_Grace
class
Liber_242_-_Aha!_(C)
Musa_Spiritus
poems_(other)
Prayer
Savitri
the_Temple
the_Tower_of_MEM

--- PRIMARY CLASS


josh
media
media
poem
subject

--- SEE ALSO


--- SIMILAR TITLES [2]


Collected Poems
Collected Poems (toc)
Out of Syllabus Poems
poems
Poems of Fernando Pessoa
poems (other)
The Love Poems of Rumi
The Poems of Cold Mountain
Unfathomable Depths Drawing Wisdom for Today from a Classical Zen Poem
select ::: Being, God, injunctions, media, place, powers, subjects,
favorite ::: cwsa, everyday, grade, mcw, memcards (table), project, project 0001, Savitri, Savitri (extended toc), the Temple of Sages, three js, whiteboard,
temp ::: consecration, experiments, knowledge, meditation, psychometrics, remember, responsibility, temp, the Bad, the God object, the Good, the most important, the Ring, the source of inspirations, the Stack, the Tarot, the Word, top priority, whiteboard,

--- DICTIONARIES (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)


poematic ::: a. --> Pertaining to a poem, or to poetry; poetical.

poem ::: n. --> A metrical composition; a composition in verse written in certain measures, whether in blank verse or in rhyme, and characterized by imagination and poetic diction; -- contradistinguished from prose; as, the poems of Homer or of Milton.
A composition, not in verse, of which the language is highly imaginative or impassioned; as, a prose poem; the poems of Ossian.

poematic ::: a. --> Pertaining to a poem, or to poetry; poetical.

poem ::: n. --> A metrical composition; a composition in verse written in certain measures, whether in blank verse or in rhyme, and characterized by imagination and poetic diction; -- contradistinguished from prose; as, the poems of Homer or of Milton.
A composition, not in verse, of which the language is highly imaginative or impassioned; as, a prose poem; the poems of Ossian.

poem, “Glad Day.”]

poem, Azaziel carries Anah off, at the time of the

poem “Le Deluge,” Emmanuel is the name of an

poem “ Virginalia” by Thomas Holley Olivers. For

poem “Sagesse”; Ambelain, La Kabbale Pratique.]

poem “America,” plate 12, Blake visions, in

poem: Any composition that could be said to be poetry or verse.


--- QUOTES [446 / 446 - 500 / 5569] (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)



KEYS (10k)

  434 Sri Aurobindo
   2 Taigu Ryokan
   1 Velimir Khlebnikov
   1 The Mother
   1 Satprem
   1 Saint John of the Cross
   1 Nolini Kanta Gupta
   1 Louis C K
   1 Kahlil Gibran
   1 Jorge Luis Borges
   1 Jalaluddin Rumi
   1 Aleister Crowley

NEW FULL DB (2.4M)

   10 Robert Frost
   8 Walt Whitman
   8 Horace
   8 Anne Sexton
   8 Álvares de Azevedo
   7 Ralph Waldo Emerson
   6 Stanley Kunitz
   6 Sanober Khan
   6 Rumi
   6 Mary Oliver
   5 William Carlos Williams
   5 Nayyirah Waheed
   4 W H Auden
   4 Wallace Stevens
   4 Philip Larkin
   4 John Fowles
   4 Edgar Allan Poe
   4 Charles Bukowski
   4 Bob Dylan
   3 Trista Mateer
   3 Tracy K Smith
   3 Richard Hugo
   3 Rainer Maria Rilke
   3 Philip Levine
   3 Percy Bysshe Shelley
   3 Mahmoud Darwish
   3 Katerina Stoykova Klemer
   3 Jose Marti
   3 John Green
   3 Henry David Thoreau
   3 Colleen Hoover
   3 Charles Simic
   3 Archibald MacLeish
   3 Anonymous
   3 Anna Akhmatova
   3 Adrienne Rich
   2 Wallace Stegner
   2 Voltaire
   2 Virginia Woolf
   2 Thom Gunn
   2 Steven Wright
   2 Stephen Dunn
   2 Stephane Mallarme
   2 Sj n
   2 Sherman Alexie
   2 Sarah Kay
   2 Robert Graves
   2 Robert Bly
   2 Rick Riordan
   2 R H Sin
   2 Randall Jarrell
   2 Ralph Fletcher
   2 Rachel Held Evans
   2 Patti Smith
   2 Ovid
   2 Oscar Wilde
   2 Neil Gaiman
   2 Naomi Shihab Nye
   2 Muriel Rukeyser
   2 Michael Franti
   2 Matthea Harvey
   2 Mason Cooley
   2 Marvin Bell
   2 Mart n Espada
   2 Mark Doty
   2 Marina Tsvetaeva
   2 Lucille Clifton
   2 Laini Taylor
   2 Joyce Kilmer
   2 Jorge Luis Borges
   2 John Walter Bratton
   2 John Geddes
   2 John Clare
   2 John Ashbery
   2 Jim Harrison
   2 Jaime Gil de Biedma
   2 Henri Michaux
   2 Frank O Hara
   2 Erica Jong
   2 Elizabeth Acevedo
   2 e e cummings
   2 E E Cummings
   2 Dorothea Lasky
   2 Dan Simmons
   2 C S Lewis
   2 Charles Olson
   2 Carol Ann Duffy
   2 Billy Collins
   2 Bertolt Brecht
   2 A S Byatt
   2 Ally Condie

1:By men is mightiness achieved ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Baji Prabhou,
2:All that we meet is a symbol and gateway ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
3:Charm is the seal of the gods upon woman. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
4:After ‘tis cold, none heeds, none hinders. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
5:No one I am, I who am all that is. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Liberation - I,
6:IT was for delightHe sought existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
7:My life is a throb of Thy eternity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Bliss of Identity,
8:Beauty of our dim soul is amorous. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Our godhead calls us,
9:Necessity rules all the infinite world, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 4.2.03 - The Birth of Sin,
10:Man’s mind is the dupe of his animal self. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God’s Labour,
11:I am an epitome of opposites. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.03 - The Spiritual Being of Man,
12:And all grows beautiful because Thou art. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Divine Hearing,
13:All is a wager and danger, all is a chase and a battle. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
14:My body a dot in the soul’s vast expanse. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Self’s Infinity,
15:In my heart’s chamber lives the unworshipped God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.56 - Omnipresence,
16:Masked the high gods act; the doer is hid by his working. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
17:Necessity fashionsAll that the unseen eye has beheld. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
18:The golden virgin, Usha, mother of life,Yet virgin. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
19:Deep in our being inhabits the voiceless invisible Teacher; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
20:Thought the great-winged wanderer paraclete ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.2.04 - Thought the Paraclete,
21:To our gaze God’s light is a darkness, His plan is a chaos. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
22:A Calm that cradles Fate upon its knees. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
23:Alone the wise Can walk through fire with unblinking eyes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Epigram,
24:Eviller fate there is none than life too long among mortals. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
25:Mind hushes stilled in eternity; waves of the Infinite wander ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
26:My life is a silence grasped by timeless hands; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Self’s Infinity,
27:We are the heirs of infinite widenesses. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Call of the Impossible,
28:Heavy is godhead to bear with its mighty sun-burden of lustre. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
29:Heavenly voices to us are a silence, those colours a whiteness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
30:Each is a mass of forces thrown in shape. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Discoveries of Science - III,
31:Even an hour of the soul can unveil the Unborn, the Everlasting, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
32:God still keepsNear to a paler world the hour ere dawn ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Chitrangada,
33:Life’s wholeTremendous theorem is Thou complete. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
34:There is an hour for knowledge, an hour to forget and to labour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
35:Always the blood is wiser and knows what is hid from the thinker. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
36:And all the while within us works His love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
37:Hard are God’s terms and few can meet them of men who are mortal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
38:Is here and in the pleasant house He choseTo harbour God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
39:Mind is His wax to write and, written, raseForm and name. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
40:The sweet vast centre and the cave divineCalled Paradise, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
41:And in the heart of the worst the best shall be born by my wisdom. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
42:Even in the worm is a god and it writhes for a form and an outlet. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
43:He who to some gives victory, joy and good,To some gives rest. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems To R.,
44:His good and evil, sin and virtue, tillHe bids thee leave. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
45:Mire is the man who hears not the gods when they cry to his bosom. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
46:Powers of his godhead we live; the Creator dwells in the creature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
47:Clouds from Zeus come and pass; his sunshine eternal survives them. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
48:Two are the angels of God whom men worship, strength and enjoyment. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
49:All things embrace in death and the strife and the hatred are ended. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
50:A wide Compassion leans to embrace earth’s pain; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
51:But there is never any end when one has loved. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
52:Man his passion prefers to the voice that guides from the immortals. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
53:You cannot utterly die while the Power lives untired in your bosoms; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
54:Surely the steel grows dear in the land when a traitor can flourish.” ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
55:Love the signOf one outblaze of godhead that two share. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
56:Fearless of death they must walk who would live and be mighty for ever. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
57:Nobler must kings be than natures of earth on whom Zeus lays no burden. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
58:Through glorious things and base the wheel of GodFor ever runs. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
59:Each through his nature He leads and the world by the lure of His wisdom. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
60:Alike ‘tis heaven,Rule or obedience to the one heart given. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Khaled of the Sea,
61:Yea, the soul of a man too is mightyMore than the stone and the mortar! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
62:All the gods in a mortal body dwelt, bore a single name. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A Strong Son of Lightning,
63:The abodeOf rapturous Love,The bright epiphany whom we name God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
64:Thought for a godlike birthBroadens the mould of our mortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Evolution - II,
65:Credence, when mediocrity multipliedEquals itself with genius. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Lines on Ireland,
66:The Self of things is not their outward view,A Force within decides. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.19 - Parabrahman,
67:Each finite is that deep InfinityEnshrining His veiled soul of pure delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.65 - Form,
68:Helped are the souls that wait more than strengths soon fulfilled and exhausted. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
69:young portress brightWho opens to our souls the worlds of light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Fear of Death,
70:Easy are mortalHearts to be bent by Fate and soon we consent to our fortunes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
71:I move in an ocean of stupendous LightJoining my depths to His eternal height. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Light,
72:This body which was once my universe,Is now a pittance carried by the soul. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Body,
73:All forms are Thy dream-dialect of delight,O Absolute, O vivid Infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.62 - Divine Sight,
74:Fate,The dim great presence, is but nature madeIrrevocable in its fruits. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
75:Good we have made by our thoughts and sin by our fear and recoiling; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
76:Only the past fulfilled can conjure room to the future that presses. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
77:Transmuted is ravishment’s minister,A high note and a fiery refrain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
78:A perfect face amid barbarian faces,A perfect voice of sweet and serious rhyme, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Johann Wolfgang von Goethe,
79:Bliss is her goal, but her road is through whirlwind and death-blast and storm-race. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
80:Nor punishes. Impartially he dealsTo every strenuous spirit its chosen reward. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
81:A Silence that was Being’s only word,The unknown beginning and the voiceless end ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Adwaita,
82:O worshipper of the formless Infinite,    Reject not form, what dwells in it is He. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.65 - Form,
83:In us the secret Spirit can inditeA page and summary of the Infinite, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.59 - The Hill-top Temple,
84:One who has made in sport the suns and seasMirrors in our being his immense caprice. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.37 - Lila,
85:Rules us, who in the Brahmin and the dogCan, if He will, show equal godhead. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Baji Prabhou,
86:Keep only my soul to adore eternallyAnd meet Thee in each form and soul of Thee. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.2.07 - Surrender,
87:The God of Force, the God of Love are one;Not least He loves whom most He smites. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 4.2.04 - Epiphany,
88:The world’s deep contrasts are but figures spunDraping the unanimity of the One. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Contrasts,
89:A deep spiritual calm no touch can swayUpholds the mystery of this Passion-play. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Life-Unity,
90:Alone of gods Death loves not gifts: he visitsThe pure heart as the stained. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
91:It is the Infinite’s blind minute abode.In that small flaming chariot Shiva rides. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Electron,
92:Men are fathers of their fate;They dig the prison, they the crown command. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Lines on Ireland,
93:All in thyself and thyself in all dwelling,Act in the world with thy being beyond it. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems the Ascent,
94:Our consciousness a torch that plays Between the Abyss and a supernal Light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man of the Mediator,
95:A World-adventurer borne on Destiny’s wingGambles with death and triumph, joy and grief. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.37 - Lila,
96:No power can slay my soul; it lives in Thee.Thy presence is my immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
97:The Master of man and his infinite Lover,He is close to our hearts, had we vision to see. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
98:To whatsoever living form I turnI see my own body with another face. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Indwelling Universal,
99:As with the figure of a symbol danceThe screened Omniscient plays at Ignorance. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Dual Being,
100:Each finite thing I see is a façade;From its windows looks at me the Illimitable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.56 - Omnipresence,
101:Hidden in an earthly garment that survives,I am the worldless being vast and free. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
102:Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gazeAnd in each voice I hear Thy magic tune: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.61 - Because Thou Art,
103:Kali (Iron Lords of Time)Am love, am passion; I create the world.I am the only Brahma. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Kama,
104:Vainly man, crouched in his corner of safety, shrinks from the fatalLure of the Infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
105:It is He in the sun who is ageless and deathless,And into the midnight His shadow is thrown. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
106:Out, out with the mind and its candle flares,Light, light the suns that never die. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Musa Spiritus,
107:The hand that sent Jupiter spinning through heaven,Spends all its cunning to fashion a curl. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
108:The impossible is the hint of what shall be,Mortal the door to immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Our godhead calls us,
109:In vain was my prison of separate body made;His occult presence burns in every cell. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.56 - Omnipresence,
110:The darkness was the Omnipotent’s abode,Hood of omniscience, a blind mask of God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Inconscient,
111:A spark of the eternal Fire, it cameTo build a house in Matter for the Unborn. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Miracle of Birth,
112:He wades through mud to reach the Wonderful,And does what Matter must or Spirit can. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.4.01 - Man the Enigma,
113:Mystic daughter of Delight,Life, thou ecstasy,Let the radius of thy flightBe eternity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.06 - The Transformation of Dream Life,
114:Naked my spirit from its vestures stands;I am alone with my own self for space. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Self’s Infinity,
115:Poems in largeness cast like moving worldsAnd metres surging with the ocean’s voice ~ Sri Aurobindo, Savitri 04.02 - The Growth of the Flame,
116:When darkness was blind and engulfed within darkness,He was seated within it immense and alone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
117:Chaff are men’s armiesThreshed by the flails of Fate; ‘tis the soul of the hero that conquers. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
118:I, Earth, have a deeper power than Heaven;My lonely sorrow surpasses its rose-joys. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
119:In the inconscient dreadful dumb AbyssAre heard the heart-beats of the Infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.The Unseen Infinite,
120:In the night a million stars ariseTo watch us with their ancient friendly eyes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Perigone Prologuises,
121:Our body is an epitome of some Vast    That masks its presence by our humanness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.59 - The Hill-top Temple,
122:Poet, who first with skill inspired did teachGreatness to our divine Bengali speech. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Madhusudan Dutt,
123:The blue sea dances like a girlWith sapphire and with pearlCrowning her locks. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
124:There is a need within the soul of man    The splendours of the surface never sate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.28 - The Greater Plan,
125:Thy golden Light came down into my feet;My earth is now Thy playfield and Thy seat. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.26 - The Golden Light,
126:Time voyages with Thee upon its prow,—And all the future’s passionate hope is Thou. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.61 - Because Thou Art,
127:Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness. ~ Kahlil Gibran,
128:Immeasurable ecstasy where TimeAnd Space have fainted in a swoon sublime! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
129:Death is but changing of our robes to waitIn wedding garments at the Eternal’s gate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Fear of Death,
130:Impassive, I bear each act and thought and mood:Time traverses my hushed infinitude. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Cosmic Spirit,
131:Not alone the mind in its troubleGod beholds, but the spirit behind that has joy of the torture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
132:Strength men desire in their masters;All men worship success and in failure and weakness abandon. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
133:An animal creature wonderfully human,A charm and miracle of fur-footed Brahman, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.6.09 - Despair on the Staircase,
134:Unborn I sit, timeless, intangible:All things are shadows in my tranquil glass. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Indwelling Universal,
135:As rain-thrashed mire the marvel of the rose,Earth waits that distant marvel to disclose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Silver Call,
136:A Witness dwells within our secrecies,The incarnate Godhead in the body of man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
137:Space is a bar twixt our ankles,Time is a weight that we drag and the scar of the centuries rankles ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
138:They can be like the sun, words.They can do for the heart what light can for a field. ~ Saint John of the Cross, The Poems of St. John of the Cross ,
139:A mistake must always be acknowledged and corrected. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
140:Forewilled by the gods, Alexander,All things happen on earth and yet we must strive who are mortals, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
141:In this rude combat with the fate of manThy smile within my heart makes all my strength; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
142:O Thou who climb’dst to mind from the dull stone,Face now the miracled summits still unwon. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Evolution - II,
143:A death that eats and eating is devoured,This is the brutal image of the world. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
144:Kama (Desire)My desireTakes many forms; I change and wheel and race,And with Me runs creation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Kama,
145:Life only is, or death is life disguised,—Life a short death until by life we are surprised. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.17 - Life and Death,
146:Like common men he lived to whom the rayOf a new sun but brings another dayUnmeaning. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Khaled of the Sea,
147:My mind has left its prison-camp of brain;It pours, a luminous sea from spirit heights. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Inner Sovereign,
148:My vast transcendence holds the cosmic whirl;I am hid in it as in the sea a pearl. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Indwelling Universal,
149:To perish is better for man or for nationNobly in battle, nor end disgraced by disease or subjection. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
150:One must first be conscious before one can be ignorant. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
151:Still by slow steps the miracle goes on,The Immortal’s gradual birth mid mire and stone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Miracle of Birth,
152:Who says my poems are poems?My poems are not poems.After you know my poems are not poems,Then we can begin to discuss poetry! ~ Taigu Ryokan,
153:Yet is the dark Inconscient whence came allThe self-same Power that shines on high unwon. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man of the Mediator,
154:Yet is the dark Inconscient whence came allThe self-same Power that shines on high unwon. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man of the Mediator,
155:I am the light in stars, of flowersThe bloom, the nameless fragrance that pervadesCreation. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
156:It is the true more than the new that the poet is after. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
157:Aspiring to godhead from insensible clayHe travels slow-footed towards the eternal day. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man the Thinking Animal,
158:Busy our hearts are weaving thoughts and images always:After their kind they see what here we call truth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
159:Morning has pleasure, noon has golden peaceAnd afternoon repose and eve the heart’s increase. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
160:Not in this living netOf flesh and nerve, nor in the flickering mindIs a man’s manhood seated. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Baji Prabhou,
161:This world behind is made of truer stuff        Than the manufactured tissue of earth’s grace. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.69 - The Inner Fields,
162:Light, burning Light from the Infinite’s diamond heartQuivers in my heart where blooms the deathless rose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Light,
163:He sowed the desert with ruddy-hearted rose,The sweetest voice that ever spoke in prose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Bankim Chandra Chatterji,
164:The high gods watch in their silence,Mute they endure for a while that the doom may be swifter and greater. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
165:I pass beyond Time and life on measureless wings,Yet still am one with born and unborn things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 07.07 - The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit and the Cosmic Consciousness,
166:Only the illimitable Permanent    Is here. A Peace stupendous, featureless, still,        Replaces all. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Nirvana,
167:I would hear, in my spirit’s wideness solitary,    The Voice that speaks when mortal lips are mute: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.28 - The Greater Plan,
168:Action Human and DivineKeep only my soul to adore eternallyAnd meet Thee in each form and soul of Thee. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.2.07 - Surrender,
169:Gesture (Mudra)I have drunk the Infinite like a giant’s wine.Time is my drama or my pageant dream. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Divinization of Matter: Lurianic Kabbalah, Physics, and the Supramental Transformation,
170:Not by a little pain and not by a temperate labourTrained is the nation chosen by Zeus for a dateless dominion. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
171:Summer has pleasant comrades, happy meetingsOf lily and rose and from the trees divinest greetings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
172:This is our human destiny; every moment of livingToil and loss have gained in the constant siege of our bodies. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
173:All things yield to a man and Zeus is himself his accompliceWhen like a god he wills without remorse or longing. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
174:Only on the heart’s veiled door the word of flameIs written, the secret and tremendous Name. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
175:When youth has quenched its soft and magic light,Delightful things remain but dead is their delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
176:Count not life nor death, defeat nor triumph, Pyrrhus.Only thy soul regard and the gods in thy joy or thy labour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
177:The One devised innumerably to be;His oneness in invisible forms he hides,Time’s tiny temples to eternity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Electron,
178:O Life, thy breath is but a cry to the LightImmortal, whence has come thy swift delight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems O Life,
179:Always our voices are prompted to speech for an end that we know not,Always we think that we drive, but are driven. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
180:No thought is vain; our very dreamsSubstantial are;The light we see in fancy, yonder gleamsIn the star. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
181:A sole thing the GodsDemand from all men living, sacrifice:Nor without this shall any crown be grasped. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
182:Conscious dimly of births unfinished hid in our beingRest we cannot; a world cries in us for space and for fullness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
183:Earth cannot long resist the man whom Heaven has chosen;Gods with him walk; his chariot is led; his arm is assisted. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
184:Power is divine; divinest of all is power over mortals.Power then the conqueror seeks and power the imperial nation, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
185:What we call sin,    Is but man’s leavings as from deep withinThe Pilot guides him in his pilgrimage. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.24 - In the Moonlight,
186:Leave to the night its phantoms, leave to the future its curtain!Only today Heaven gave to mortal man for his labour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
187:Life and treasure and fame to cast on the wings of a moment,Fiercer joy than this the gods have not given to mortals. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
188:Son of man, thou hast crowned thy life with flowers that are scentless,Chased the delights that wound. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
189:The thoughts of unknown minds exalt me with their thrill;I carry the sorrow of millions in my lonely breast. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Cosmic Man,
190:He who is blind revolts and he who is limited struggles:Strife is not for the infinite; wisdom observes to accomplish. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
191:He who is blind revolts and he who is limited struggles:Strife is not for the infinite; wisdom observes to accomplish. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
192:Thou who pervadest all the worlds below,Yet sitst above,Master of all who work and rule and know,Servant of Love! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems God,
193:Thought could not think in him, flesh could not quiver;    The feet of Time could not adventure here ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Yogi on the Whirlpool,
194:All things are by Time and the Will eternal that moves us,And for each birth its hour is set in the night or the dawning. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
195:Man over woman, woman o’er man, over lover and foemanWrestling we strive to expand in our souls, to be wide, to be happy. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
196:Something watches behind, Spirit or Self or Soul,Viewing Space and its toil, waiting the end of Time. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness and the Wheel,
197:The vault of heavenIs not a true similitude for manWhose space outgyres thought’s last horizon. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
198:World-rhythmsThrough glimmering veils of wonder and delightWorld after world bursts on the awakened sight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.2.03 - The Other Earths,
199:Even as death shall gather us all for memory’s clusters,All in their day who were great or were little, heroes or cowards. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
200:Led or misled we are mortals and walk by a light that is given;Most they err who deem themselves most from error excluded. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
201:Led or misled we are mortals and walk by a light that is given;Most they err who deem themselves most from error excluded. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
202:Man on whom the World-Unity shall seize,Widening his soul-spark to an epiphanyOf the timeless vastness of Infinity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Electron,
203:Men live like stars that see each other in heaven,But one knows not the pleasure and the griefThe others feel ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
204:Easily nations bow to a yoke when their virtue relaxes;Hard is the breaking fetters once worn, for the virtue has perished. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
205:Ever we hear in the heart of the peril a flute go before us,Luminous beckoning hands in the distance invite and implore us. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
206:Not of the fire am I terrified, not of the sword and its slaying;Vileness of men appals me, baseness I fear and its voices. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
207:This observe, thy task in thy destiny noble or fallen;Time and result are the gods’; with these things be not thou troubled. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
208:While thou livest, perfectly fulfilThy part, conceiveEarth as thy stage, thyself the actor strong,The drama His. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
209:For grief and painAre errors of the clouded soul; behindThey do not stainThe living spirit who to these is blind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
210:Non-ViolenceDeem nothing vain: through many veilsThis Spirit gleams.The dreams of God are truths and He prevails. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
211:Occult masters of destiny,They who sit in the SecrecyAnd watch unmoved everUnto the end of all. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Winged with Dangerous Deity,
212:Great men and deathSuch puissance great well-poisèd natures proveTo mould to their own likeness all they love. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Khaled of the Sea,
213:In the hard reckoning made by the grey-robed accountant at evenPain is the ransom we pay for the smallest foretaste of heaven. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
214:Light, brooding Light! each smitten passionate cellIn a mute blaze of ecstasy preservesA living sense of the Imperishable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Light,
215:Always a few will be left whom the threatenings of Fate cannot conquer,Always souls are born whose courage waits not on fortune ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
216:Always a few will be left whom the threatenings of Fate cannot conquer,Always souls are born whose courage waits not on fortune ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
217:Hear its cry when God’s moment changing our fate comes visoredSilently into our lives and the spirit too knows, for it watches. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
218:Not as the ways of other mortals are theirs who are guided,They whose eyes are the gods and they walk by a light that is secret. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
219:Life with her wine-cup of longing under the purple of her tenture,Death as her gate of escape and rebirth and renewal of venture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
220:Souls that are true to themselves are immortal; the soulless for everLingers helpless in Hades a shade among shades disappointed. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
221:Atom and molecule in their unseen planButtress an edifice of strange onenesses,Crystal and plant, insect and beast and man, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Electron,
222:One sole oracle helps, still armoured in courage and prudencePatient and heedful to toil at the work that is near in the daylight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
223:Only of one thingMan can be sure, the will in his heart and his strength in his purpose:This too is Fate and this too the gods ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
224:Destiny’s lasso, its slip-knot tied by delight and repining,Draws us through tangles of failure and victory’s inextricable twining. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
225:Earth has beatitudes warmer than heaven’s that are bare and undying,Marvels of Time on the crest of the moments to Infinity flying. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
226:Of rapturous Love,The bright epiphany whom we name God,Towards whom we droveIn spite of weakness, evil, grief and pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
227:On the safe landTo linger is to lose what God has planned    For man’s wide soul,Who set eternal godhead for its goal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.08 - To the Sea,
228:Yet was the battle decreed for the means supreme of the mortalPlaced in a world where all things strive from the worm to the Titan. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
229:And this the reason of his high unease,    Because he came from the infinitiesTo build immortally with mortal things; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.24 - In the Moonlight,
230:Life in my limbs shall grow deathless, flesh with the God-glory tingle,Lustre of Paradise, light of the earth-ways marry and mingle. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
231:O Life, thy breath is but a cry to the LightImmortal, whence has come thy swift delight,    Thy grasp. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems O Life,
232:We must pass through the aeons; Space is a bar twixt our ankles,Time is a weight that we drag and the scar of the centuries rankles: ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
233:Charmed men applaud the skilful purpose, the dexterous speaker;This they forget that a Force decides, not the wiles of the statesman. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
234:Dear are the halls of our childhood, dear are the fields of our fathers,Yet to the soul that is free no spot on the earth is an exile. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
235:This is the nature of earth that to blows she responds and by scourgingsTravails excited; pain is the bed of her blossoms of pleasure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
236:A new kind of poetry demands a new mentality in the recipient as well as in the writer. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
237:Hard is the way to the Eternal for the mind-born will of the mortalBound by the body and life to the gait of the house-burdened turtle. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
238:Hid in our hearts is his glory; the Spirit works in our members.Silence is he, with our voices he speaks, in our thoughts he remembers. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
239:One is there only, apart in his greatness, the End and Beginning,—He who has sent through his soul’s wide spaces the universe spinning. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
240:Blood and grief are the ransom of men for the joys of their transience,For we are mortals bound in our strength and beset in our labour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
241:Strange, remote and splendidChildhood’s fancy pureThrills to thoughts we cannot fathom,Quick felicities obscure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A Child’s Imagination,
242:I am that Madan who inform the starsWith lustre and on life’s wide canvas fillPictures of light and shade, of joy and tears. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
243:In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art. ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
244:None has been able to hold all the gods in his bosom unstaggered,All have grown drunken with force and have gone down to Hell and to Ate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
245:Life, the river of the Spirit, consenting to anguish and sorrowIf by her heart’s toil a loan-light of joy from the heavens she can borrow. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
246:There our sun cannot shine and our moon has no place for her lustres,There our lightnings flash not, nor fire of these spaces is suffered. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
247:Dread not the ruin, fear not the storm-blast, yield not, O Trojans.Zeus shall rebuild. Death ends not our days, the fire shall not triumph. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
248:Not on the tramp of the multitudes, not on the cry of the legionsFounds the strong man his strength but the god that he carries within him. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
249:Gods change not their strength, but are of oldAnd as of old, and man, though less than these,May yet proceed to greater, self-evolved. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
250:Knowing all vain, yet we strive; for our nature seizing us alwaysDrives like the flock that is herded and urged towards shambles or pasture. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
251:Life that pursuing her boundless march to a goal which we know not,Ever her own law obeys, not our hopes, who are slaves of her heart-beats. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
252:Easy is the love that lastsOnly with favours in the shopman heart!Who, smitten, takes and gives the kiss, he loves. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
253:This grey hour was bornFor the ascetic in his silent caveAnd for the dying man whose heart releasedLoosens its vibrant strings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Chitrangada,
254:Man, by experience of passion purged,His myriad faculty perfecting, widensHis nature as it rises till it growsWith God conterminous. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Urvasie,
255:Silence, the nurse of the Almighty’s power,The omnipotent hush, womb of the immortal Word. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art General Comments on some Criticisms of the Poem,
256:Always man’s Fate hangs poised on the flitting breath of a moment;Called by some word, by some gesture it leaps, then ‘tis graven, ‘tis granite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
257:We, too, by the Eternal Might are ledTo whatsoever goal He wills.Our helm He grasps, our generous sail outspreadHis strong breath fills. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems To R.,
258:Drowned in the Absolute, found in the Godhead,Swan of the supreme and spaceless ether wandering winged through the universe,Spirit immortal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems the Ascent,
259:He who would bring the heavens hereMust descend himself into clayAnd the burden of earthly nature bearAnd tread the dolorous way. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God’s Labour,
260:Sin exaltedSeizes secure on the thrones of the world for her glorious portion,Down to the bottomless pit the good man is thrust in his virtue. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
261:And all man’s ghastly company of fearsAre born of folly that believes this spanOf brittle life can limit immortal man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems To Weep because a Glorious Sun,
262:The Truth of truths men fear and deny,The Light of lights they refuse;To ignorant gods they lift their cryOr a demon altar choose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God’s Labour,
263:A tree beside the sandy river-beachHolds up its topmost boughsLike fingers towards the skies they cannot reach,Earth-bound, heaven-amorous. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.07 - A Tree,
264:My soul unhorizoned widens to measureless sight,    My body is God’s happy living tool,        My spirit a vast sun of deathless light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Divinization of Matter: Lurianic Kabbalah, Physics, and the Supramental Transformation,
265:Is not the world his disguise? when that cloak is tossed back from his shoulders,Beauty looks out like a sun on the hearts of the ravished beholders. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
266:Vain, they have said, is the anguish of man and his labour diurnal,Vainly his caravans cross through the desert of Time to the Eternal. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Vain,
267:In some faint dawn,In some dim eve,    Like a gesture of Light,    Like a dream of delightThou com’st nearer and nearer to me. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems In Some Faint Dawn,
268:Thick and persistent the night confronts all his luminous longings;Dire death’s sickle mows like a harvest his hosts and his throngings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Vain,
269:Wilt thou not perfect this rather that sprang too from Wisdom and Power?Taking the earthly rose canst thou image not Heaven in a flower? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
270:My mind is awake in stirless trance,Hushed my heart, a burden of delight;Dispelled is the senses’ flicker-dance,Mute the body aureate with light. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Trance,
271:Around me was a formless solitude:All had become one strange Unnameable,An unborn sole Reality world-nude,Topless and fathomless, for ever still. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Adwaita,
272:Confident of His grace, expect His will;Let Him lead; though hidden be the bourne,See Him in all that happens; that fulfilFor which thou wert born. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems To R.,
273:fools! whose prideAbsurd the gods permit a little spaceTo please their souls with laughter, then replaceIn the loud limbo of futilities. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Lines on Ireland,
274:Rejoice and fear not for the waves that swell,The storms that thunder, winds that sweep;Always our Captain holds the rudder well,He does not sleep. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems To R.,
275:Time is a strong convention; future and presentWere living in the past;They are one image that our wills complaisantInto three schemes have cast. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.15 - Rebirth,
276:Lo, all these peoples and who was it fashioned them? Who is unwillingStill to have done with it? laughs beyond pain and saves in the killing? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
277:Our souls and heaven are of an equal statureAnd have a dateless birth;The unending seed, the infinite mould of Nature,They were not made on earth, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.15 - Rebirth,
278:Summer is dead and rich reposeAnd springtide and the rose,And woods and all sweet things make moan;The weeping earth is turned to stone. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
279:Man worships the ungrasped. His vagrant thoughtStill busy with the illimitable voidLives all the time by little things upbuoyedWhich he contemns ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Euphrosyne,
280:Noble be in peace, invincible, brave in the battle,Stern and calm to thy foe, to the suppliant merciful. MortalFavour and wrath as thou walkst heed never ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
281:I have laboured and suffered in Matter’s nightTo bring the fire to man;But the hate of hell and human spiteAre my meed since the world began. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God’s Labour,
282:Still, still we can hear themNow, if we listen long in our souls, the bygone voices.Earth in her fibres remembers, the breezes are stored with our echoes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
283:On the white summit of eternity    A single Soul of bare infinities,    Guarded he keeps by a fire-screen of peaceHis mystic loneliness of nude ecstasy. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.33 - Shiva,
284:Therefore is the woman’s partNearest divine, who to one motion keepsAnd like the fixed immortal planets’ roundIs constant to herself in him she loves. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Uloupie,
285:Form in its heart of silence recondite    Hides the significance of His mystery,    Form is the wonder-house of eternity,A cavern of the deathless Eremite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.65 - Form,
286:Yama, the strong pure Hades sad and subtle,Dharma, who keeps the laws of old untouched,Critanta, who ends all things and at lastHimself shall end. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 10.03 - The Debate of Love and Death,
287:Temple-groundMan, shun the impulses dire that spring armed from thy nature’s abysms!Dread the dusk rose of the gods, flee the honey that tempts from its petals! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
288:A king of greatness and a slave of love,Host of the stars and guest in Nature’s inn,A high spectator spirit throned above,A pawn of passion in the game divine. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.37 - Lila,
289:Even in the worm is a god and it writhes for a form and an outlet.Workings immortal obscurely struggling, hints of a godheadLabour to form in this clay a divinity. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
290:All is not finished in the unseen decree;A Mind beyond our mind demands our ken,A life of unimagined harmonyAwaits, concealed, the grasp of unborn men. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Evolution - II,
291:He is in me, round me, facing everywhere.Self-walled in ego to exclude His right,I stand upon its boundaries and stareInto the frontiers of the Infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.56 - Omnipresence,
292:Let the little troubled life-god withinCast his veils from the still soul,His tiger-stripes of virtue and sin,His clamour and glamour and thole and dole ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Musa Spiritus,
293:Wise are the gods in their silence,Wise when they speak; but their speech is other than ours and their wisdomHard for a mortal mind to hold and not madden or wander. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
294:I shall not die.    Although this body, when the spirit tires    Of its cramped residence, shall feed the fires,My house consumes, not I. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.16 - The Triumph-Song of Trishuncou,
295:Fate severe like a motherTeaches our wills by disaster and strikes down the props that would weaken,Fate and the Thought on high that is wiser than yearnings of mortals. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
296:I have broken the limits of embodied mindAnd am no more the figure of a soul.The burning galaxies are in me outlined;The universe is my stupendous whole. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Cosmic Spirit,
297:I have escaped and the small self is dead;I am immortal, alone, ineffable;I have gone out from the universe I made,And have grown nameless and immeasurable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Liberation - I,
298:I have given my mind to be dug Thy channel mind,I have offered up my will to be Thy will:Let nothing of myself be left behindIn our union mystic and unutterable. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.2.07 - Surrender,
299:Fools or hypocrites! Meanest falsehood is this among mortals,Veils of purity weaving, names misplacing idealWhen our desires we disguise and paint the lusts of our nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
300:He is not anything, yet all is He;He is not all but far exceeds that scope.Both Time and Timelessness sink in that sea:Time is a wave and Space a wandering drop. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.19 - Parabrahman,
301:Wast thou not made in the shape of a woman? Sweetness and beautyMove like a song of the gods in thy limbs and to love is thy dutyGraved in thy heart as on tablets of fate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
302:And high Delight, a spirit infinite,That is the fountain of this glorious world,Delight that labours in its opposite,Faints in the rose and on the rack is curled. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.19 - Parabrahman,
303:There are two beings in my single self.A Godhead watches Nature from behindAt play in front with a brilliant surface elf,A time-born creature with a human mind. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Dual Being,
304:A life of intensities wide, immuneFloats behind the earth and her life-fret,A magic of realms mastered by spell and rune,Grandiose, blissful, coloured, increate. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Life Heavens,
305:All is abolished but the mute Alone.    The mind from thought released, the heart from grief    Grow inexistent now beyond belief;There is no I, no Nature, known-unknown. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Nirvana,
306:It is Thy rapture flaming through my nervesAnd all my cells and atoms thrill with Thee;My body Thy vessel is and only servesAs a living wine-cup of Thy ecstasy. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Bliss of Identity,
307:He must stride on conquering all,Threatening and clamouring, brutal, invincible,Until he meets upon his storm-swept roadA greater devil—or thunderstroke of God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Dwarf Napoleon,
308:Identified with silence and boundlessnessMy spirit widens clasping the universe    Till all that seemed becomes the Real,        One in a mighty and single vastness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Ocean Oneness,
309:Some huge somnambulist IntelligenceDevising without thought process and planArrayed the burning stars’ magnificence,The living bodies of beasts and the brain of man. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Inconscient,
310:I housed within my heart the life of things,All hearts athrob in the world I felt as mine;I shared the joy that in creation singsAnd drank its sorrow like a poignant wine. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Life-Unity,
311:Life and mind and their glory and debateAre the slow prelude of a vaster theme,    A sketch confused of a supernal plan,        A preface to the epic of the Supreme. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.28 - The Greater Plan,
312:now I listen to a greater WordBorn from the mute unseen omniscient Ray:The Voice that only Silence’ ear has heardLeaps missioned from an eternal glory of Day. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Word of the Silence,
313:There is a silence greater than any knownTo earth’s dumb spirit, motionless in the soul    That has become Eternity’s foothold,        Touched by the infinitudes for ever. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Jivanmukta,
314:My mind is hushed in wide and endless light,My heart a solitude of delight and peace,My sense unsnared by touch and sound and sight,My body a point in white infinities. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Liberation - I,
315:Silence is round me, wideness ineffable;White birds on the ocean diving and wandering;    A soundless sea on a voiceless heaven,        Azure on azure, is mutely gazing. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Ocean Oneness,
316:The Friend of Man helps him with life and deathUntil he knows. Then, freed from mortal breath,Grief, pain, resentment, terror pass away.He feels the joy of the immortal play; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 4.2.04 - Epiphany,
317:Who art thou in the heart comrade of man who sitstAugust, watching his works, watching his joys and griefs,Unmoved, careless of pain, careless of death and fate? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness and the Wheel,
318:A bare impersonal hush is now my mind,A world of sight clear and inimitable,A volume of silence by a Godhead signed,A greatness pure of thought, virgin of will. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Word of the Silence,
319:One on another we prey and one by another are mighty.This is the world and we have not made it; if it is evil,Blame first the gods; but for us, we must live by its laws or we perish. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
320:Yearning that claimed all time for its date and all life for its fuel,All that we wonder at gazing back when the passion has fallen,Labour blind and vain expense and sacrifice wasted ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
321:A creature of his own grey ignorance,    A mind half shadow and half gleam, a breath    That wrestles, captive in a world of death,To live some lame brief years. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man the Thinking Animal,
322:Yogic or occult powers are no more supernatural or incredible than is supernatural or incredible the power to write a great poem or compose great music. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Himself and the Ashram Education,
323:Two genii in the dubious heart of man,    Two great unhappy foes together bound    Wrestle and strive to win unhampered ground;They strive for ever since the race began. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.24 - In the Moonlight,
324:I saw my soul a traveller through Time;From life to life the cosmic ways it trod,Obscure in the depths and on the heights sublime,Evolving from the worm into the god. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Miracle of Birth,
325:Love and the need of mastery, joy and the longing for greatnessRage like a fire unquenchable burning the world and creating,Nor till humanity dies will they sink in the ashes of Nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
326:One, universal, ensphering creation,Wheeling no more with inconscient Nature,Feel thyself God-born, know thyself deathless.Timeless return to thy immortal existence. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Soul in the Ignorance,
327:The crude beginnings of the lifeless earth,The mindless stirrings of the plant and treePrepared our thought; thought for a godlike birthBroadens the mould of our mortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Evolution - II,
328:This mute stupendous Energy that whirlsThe stars and nebulae in its long train,Like a huge Serpent through my being curlsWith its diamond hood of joy and fangs of pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness Spirit,
329:This mute stupendous Energy that whirlsThe stars and nebulae in its long train,Like a huge Serpent through my being curlsWith its diamond hood of joy and fangs of pain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness Spirit,
330:We are but sparks of that most perfect fire,Waves of that sea:From Him we come, to Him we go, desireEternally,And so long as He wills, our separate birthIs and shall be. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
331:All sounds, all voices have become Thy voice,Music and thunder and the cry of birds,Life’s babble of her sorrows and her joys,Cadence of human speech and murmured words, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Divine Hearing,
332:In the sweep of the worlds, in the surge of the ages,Ineffable, mighty, majestic and pure,Beyond the last pinnacle seized by the thinkerHe is throned in His seats that for ever endure. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
333:That is our home and that the secret hopeOur hearts explore.To bring those heavens down upon the earthWe all descend,And fragments of it in the human birthWe can command. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
334:Now from his cycle sleepless and vast round the dance of the earth-globeGold Hyperion rose in the wake of the dawn like the eyeballFlaming of God revealed by his uplifted luminous eyelid. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
335:Although consenting here to a mortal body,He is the Undying; limit and bond he knows not;    For him the aeons are a playground,        Life and its deeds are his splendid shadow. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Jivanmukta,
336:I have wrapped the wide world in my wider selfAnd Time and Space my spirit’s seeing are.I am the god and demon, ghost and elf,I am the wind’s speed and the blazing star. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 07.07 - The Discovery of the Cosmic Spirit and the Cosmic Consciousness,
337:The Master who bends o’er His creatures,Suffers their sins and their errors and guides them screening the guidance;Each through his nature He leads and the world by the lure of His wisdom. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
338:All music is only the sound of His laughter,All beauty the smile of His passionate bliss;Our lives are His heart-beats, our rapture the bridalOf Radha and Krishna, our love is their kiss. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
339:My life is the life of village and continent,I am earth’s agony and her throbs of bliss;I share all creatures’ sorrow and contentAnd feel the passage of every stab and kiss. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Cosmic Spirit,
340:No danger can perturb my spirit’s calm:My acts are Thine; I do Thy works and pass;Failure is cradled on Thy deathless arm,Victory is Thy passage mirrored in Fortune’s glass. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.18 - The Divine Worker,
341:Soul in the Ignorance, wake from its stupor.Flake of the world-fire, spark of Divinity,Lift up thy mind and thy heart into glory.Sun in the darkness, recover thy lustre. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Soul in the Ignorance,
342:Love men, love God. Fear not to love, O King,Fear not to enjoy;For Death’s a passage, grief a fancied thingFools to annoy.From self escape and find in love aloneA higher joy. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.23 - The Rishi,
343:Everybody is different. Some comedy is more musical like Steven Wright. His is a pillar of comedy to me. He invented a whole form and all his jokes are poems. So it's different. I wanted to do it like George Carlin. Now I do it like me. ~ Louis C K,
344:My soul’s wide self of living infinite SpaceOutlines its body luminous and unborn    Behind the earth-robe; under the earth-mask grows clear        The mould of an imperishable face. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
345:My soul’s wide self of living infinite SpaceOutlines its body luminous and unborn    Behind the earth-robe; under the earth-mask grows clear        The mould of an imperishable face. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Conscious Immortality,
346:I know, O God, the day shall dawn at lastWhen man shall rise from playing with the mudAnd taking in his hands the sun and starsRemould appearance, law and process old. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
347:Two are the ends of existence, two are the dreams of the Mother:Heaven unchanging, earth with her time-beats yearn to each other,—Earth-souls needing the touch of the heavens peace to recapture ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
348:Our mind is a glimmering curtain of that Ray,Our strength a parody of the Immortal’s power,Our joy a dreamer on the Eternal’s wayHunting the unseizable beauty of an hour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
349:There is a joy behind suffering; pain digs our road to his pleasance.All things have bliss for their secret; only our consciousness faltersFearing to offer itself as a victim on ecstasy’s altars. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
350:Who shall foretell the event of a battle, the fall of a footstep?Oracles, visions and prophecies voice but the dreams of the mortal,And ‘tis our spirit within is the Pythoness tortured in Delphi. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
351:Over all earthly things the soul that is fearless is master,Only on death he can reckon not whether it comes in the midnightTreading the couch of Kings in their pride or speeds in the spear-shaft. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
352:There is a wisdom like a brooding Sun,A Bliss in the heart’s crypt grown fiery white,The heart of a world in which all hearts are one,A Silence on the mountains of delight, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.29 - The Universal Incarnation,
353:Life renewed its ways which death and sleep cannot alter,Life that pursuing her boundless march to a goal which we know not,Ever her own law obeys, not our hopes, who are slaves of her heart-beats. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
354:Mortals, your end is beatitude, rapture eternal his meaning:Joy, which he most now denies, is his purpose: the hedges, the screeningWere but the rules of his play; his denials came to lure farther. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
355:I dwell in the spirit’s calm nothing can moveAnd watch the actions of Thy vast world-force,Its mighty wings that through infinity moveAnd the Time-gallopings of the deathless Horse. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Witness Spirit,
356:Yet his advance,Attempt of a divinity within,    A consciousness in the inconscient Night,    To realise its own supernal Light,Confronts the ruthless forces of the Unseen. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Man the Thinking Animal,
357:Yet in the midst of our labour and weeping not utterly lonelyWander our steps, nor are terror and grief our portion only.Do we not hear in the heart of the peril a flute go before us? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
358:Back from his nature he drew to the passionless peaks of the spirit,Throned where it dwells for ever uplifted and silent and changelessFar beyond living and death, beyond Nature and ending of Nature. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
359:How shall they prosper who haste after auguries, oracles, whispers,Dreams that walk in the night and voices obscure of the silence?Touches are these from the gods that bewilder the brain to its ruin. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
360:Our souls travelling different paths have met in the agesEach for its work and they cling for an hour to the names of affection,Then Time’s long waves bear them apart for new forms we shall know not, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
361:Self-GivingHateful I hold him who sworn to a cause that is holy and commonBroods upon private wrongs or serving his lonely ambitionStudies to reap his gain from the labour and woe of his fellows. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
362:Dead is the past; the void has possessed it; its drama is ended,Finished its music. The future is dim and remote from our knowledge;Silent it lies on the knees of the gods in their luminous stillness. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
363:All eyes that look on me are my sole eyes;The one heart that beats within all breasts is mine.The world’s happiness flows through me like wine,Its million sorrows are my agonies. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Indwelling Universal,
364:Each of us bears his punishment, fruit of a seed that’s forgotten;Each of us curses his neighbour protecting his heart with illusions:Therefore like children we blame each other and hate and are angry. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
365:Moved man’s tongue in its wrath looses speech that is hard to be pardoned,Afterwards stilled we regret, we forgive. If all were resented,None could live on this earth that is thick with our stumblings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
366:Pride is not for our clay; the earth, not heaven was our motherAnd we are even as the ant in our toil and the beast in our dying;Only who cling to the hands of the gods can rise up from the earth-mire. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
367:He is lost in the heart, in the cavern of Nature,He is found in the brain where He builds up the thought:In the pattern and bloom of the flowers He is woven,In the luminous net of the stars He is caught. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 3.1.02 - Who,
368:Oneness unknown to us dwells in these millions of figures and faces,Wars with itself in our battles, loves in our clinging embraces,Inly the self and the substance of things and their cause and their mover ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
369:This iron, brute, gigantic helpless toyThey call a world, this thing that turns and turnsAnd shrieks and bleeds and cannot stop, this victimBroken and living yet on its own wheel, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
370:But for the god in their breasts unsatisfied, but for his spurringsSoon would the hero turn beast and the sage reel back to the savage;Man from his difficult heights would recoil and be mud in the earth-mud. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
371:Into this life which the sunlight bounds and the greenness has cradled,Armed with strength we have come; as our strength is, so is our joyance.What but for joyance is birth and what but for joyance is living? ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
372:Leave to the gods their godhead and, mortal, turn to thy labour;Take what thou canst from the hour that is thine and be fearless in spirit;This is the greatness of man and the joy of his stay in the sunlight. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
373:Near to the quiet truth of things we standIn this grey moment. Neither happy lightNor joyful sound deceives the listening heart,Nor Night inarms, the Mother brooding vast,To comfort us with sleep. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Chitrangada,
374:The gods have inventedOnly one way for a man through the world, O my slavegirl Briseis,Valiant to be and noble and truthful and just to the humble,Only one way for a woman, to love and serve and be faithful. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
375:Truth is wider, greater than her forms.A thousand icons they have made of herAnd find her in the idols they adore;But she remains herself and infinite. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Letters on Poetry and Art Comments on Specific Lines and Passages of the Poem,
376:Has put the stars out ere the light,And from their dewy cushions riseSweet flowers half-opening their eyes.O pleasant then to feel as if new-bornThe sweet, unripe and virgin air, the air of morn. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
377:What though ‘tis true that the river of Life through the Valley of PerilFlows! But the diamond shines on the cliffside, jacinth and berylGleam in the crannies, sapphire, smaragdus the roadway bejewel, ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
378:Out and alas! earth’s greatest are earth and they fail in the testing,Conquered by sorrow and doubt, fate’s hammerers, fires of her furnace.God in their souls they renounce and submit to their clay and its promptings. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
379:My heart shall throb with the world-beats of Thy love,My body become Thy engine for earth-use;In my nerves and veins Thy rapture’s streams shall move;My thoughts shall be hounds of Light for Thy power to loose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 1.2.07 - Surrender,
380:To heal the evils and mistakes of SpaceAnd change the tragedy of the ignorant worldInto a Divine Comedy of joyAnd the laughter and the rapture of God’s bliss.The Mother of God is mother of our souls ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.6.12 - The Mother of God,
381:Transient, we made not ourselves, but at birth from the first we were fashionedValiant or fearful and as was our birth by the gods and their thinkingsFormed, so already enacted and fixed by their wills are our fortunes. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
382:Soul, my soul Soul, my soul, yet ascend crossing the marge of life: Mount out far above Time, reach to the golden end ... Live there lost in God space, rapturous, vacant, mute, Sun-bright, timeless, immense, single and absolute. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
383:Who can point out the way of the gods and the path of their travel,Who shall impose on them bounds and an orbit? The winds have their treading,–They can be followed and seized, not the gods when they move towards their purpose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
384:Perhaps the heart of God for ever singsAnd worlds come throbbing out from every note;Perhaps His soul sits ever calm and stillAnd listens to the music rapturously,Himself adoring, by Himself adored. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.02 - The Meditations of Mandavya,
385:Then as now men walked in the round which the gods have decreed themEagerly turning their eyes to the lure and the tool and the labour.Chained is their gaze to the span in front, to the gulfs they are blindedMeant for their steps. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
386:Greater it seems to my mind to be king over men than their slayer,Nobler to build and to govern than what the ages have labouredPutting their godhead forth to create or the high gods have fashioned,That to destroy in our wrath of a moment. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
387:Such were a dream of some sage at night when he muses in fancy,Imaging freely a flawless world where none were afflicted,No man inferior, all could sublimely equal and brothersLive in a peace divine like the gods in their luminous regions. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
388:All things are subject to sweet pleasure,But three things keep her richest measure,The breeze that visits heavenAnd knows the planets seven,The green spring with its flowery truthCreative and the luminous heart of youth. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
389:God:::Thou who pervadest all the worlds below,Yet sitst above,Master of all who work and rule and know,Servant of Love!Thou who disdainest not the worm to beNor even the clod,Therefore we know by that humilityThat thou art God. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
390:The knowledge of mortals is bound unto blindness.Either only they walk mid the coloured dreams of the sensesTreading the greenness of earth and deeming the touch of things real,Or if they see, by the curse of the gods their sight into falsehood ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
391:All over earth men wept and bled and laboured, world-wideSowing Fate with their deeds and had other fruit than they hoped for,Out of desires and their passionate griefs and fleeting enjoymentsWeaving a tapestry fit for the gods to admire, who in ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
392:But for the god in their breasts unsatisfied, but for his spurringsSoon would the hero turn beast and the sage reel back to the savage;Man from his difficult heights would recoil and be mud in the earth-mud.This by pain we prevent; we compel his ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
393:Men must sow earth with their hearts and their tears that their country may prosper;Earth who bore and devours us that life may be born from our remnants.Then shall the Sacrifice gather its fruits when the war-shout is silent,Nor shall the blood ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
394:Only one doom irreparable treads down the soul of a nation,Only one downfall endures; ‘tis the ruin of greatness and virtue,Mourning when Freedom departs from the life and the heart of a people,Into her room comes creeping the mind of the slave. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
395:Then if the tempest be loud and the thunderbolt leaping incessantShatters the roof, if the lintels flame at last and each corniceShrieks with the pain of the blast, if the very pillars totter,Keep yet your faith in Zeus, hold fast to the word of ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
396:All whose eyes can pierce that curtain, gaze into dimness;This they have glimpsed and that they imagine deceived by their naturesSeeing the forms in their hearts of dreadful things and of joyous;As in the darkness our eyes are deceived by shadows ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
397:Earth that was wakened by pain to life and by hunger to thinkingLeft to her joys rests inert and content with her gains and her station.But for the unbearable whips of the gods back soon to her matterShe would go glad and the goal would be missed ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
398:Evil is worked, not justice, when into the mould of our thinkingsGod we would force and enchain to the throb of our hearts the immortals,—Justice and Virtue, her sister,—for where is justice mid creaturesPerfectly? Even the gods are betrayed by o ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
399:Hopes that were confident, fates that sprang dire from the seed of a moment,Yearning that claimed all time for its date and all life for its fuel,All that we wonder at gazing back when the passion has fallen,Labour blind and vain expense and sacr ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
400:This is the burden of man that he acts from his heart and his passions,Stung by the goads of the gods he hews at the ties that are dearest.Lust was the guide they sent us, wrath was a whip for his coursers,Madness they made the heart’s comrade, r ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
401:This is the greatness of gods that they know and can put back the knowledge;Doing the work they have chosen they turn not for fruit nor for failure,Griefless they walk to their goal and strain not their eyes towards the ending.Light that they hav ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
402:Vainly the divine whispers seek us; the heights are rejected.Man to his earth drawn always prefers his nethermost promptings,Man, devouring, devoured who is slayer and slain through the agesSince by the beast he soars held and exceeds not that pe ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
403:What can man suffer direr or worse than enslaved from a victorBoons to accept, to take safety and ease from the foe and the stranger,Fallen from the virtue stern that heaven permits to a mortal?Death is not keener than this nor the slaughter of f ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
404:Who among men has not thoughts that he holds for the wisest, though foolish?Who, though feeble and nought, esteems not his strength o’er his fellow’s?Therefore the wisest and strongest choose out a king and a leader,Not as a perfect arbiter armed ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
405:Children of Immortality, gods who are joyous for ever,Rapture is ours and eternity measures our lives by his aeons.For we desireless toil who have joy in the fall as the triumph,Knowledge eternal possessing we work for an end that is destinedL ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
406:He who a god for his kindred,Lives for the rest without bowels of pity or fellowship, lone-souled,Scorning the world that he rules, who untamed by the weight of an empireHolds allies as subjects, subjects as slaves and drives to the battleCare ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
407:His flute with its sweetness ensnaringSounds in our ears in the night and our souls of their teguments baringHales us out naked and absolute, out to his woodlands eternal,Out to his moonlit dances, his dalliance sweet and supernal,And we go st ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
408:In earth’s rhythm of shadow and sunlightStorm is the dance of the locks of the God assenting to greatness,Zeus who with secret compulsion orders the ways of our nature;Veiled in events he lives and working disguised in the mortalBuilds our str ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
409:Man who has toweredOut of the plasm and struggled by thought to Divinity’s level,Man, this miniature second creator of good and of evil,He too was only a compost of Matter made living, organic,Forged as her thinking tool by an Energy blind and ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
410:Surely the gods protect, yet is Death too always mighty.Most in his shadowy envy he strikes at the brave and the lovely,Grudging works to abridge their days and to widow the sunlight.Most, disappointed, he rages against the beloved of Heaven;S ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
411:Though the people hear us not, yet are we bound to our nation:Over the people the gods are; over a man is his country;This is the deity first adored by the hearths of the noble.For by our nation’s will we are ruled in the home and the battleAn ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
412:Stood visible, Titanic, scarlet-clad,Dark as a thunder-cloud, with streaming hairObscuring heaven, and in her sovran graspThe sword, the flower, the boon, the bleeding head,—Bhavani. Then she vanished; the daylightWas ordinary in a common w ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Baji Prabhou,
413:God's TreadOnce we have chosen to be as the gods, we must follow that motion.Knowledge must grow in us, might like a Titan’s, bliss like an ocean,Calmness and purity born of the spirit’s gaze on the Real,Rapture of his oneness embracing the soul in a clasp ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.02 - Ahana,
414:Time in its cycles waited for man. Though his kingdom is ended,Here in a speck mid the suns and his life is a throb in the aeons,Yet, O you Titans and Gods, O Rudras, O strong Aditeians,Man is the centre and knot; he is first, though the last in ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
415:World-destiny waits upon that foaming lip.A Titan Power upholds this pigmy man,The crude dwarf instrument of a mighty Force.Hater of the free spirit’s joy and light,Made only of strength and skill and giant might,A Will to trample humanity ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Dwarf Napoleon,
416:Always the wide-pacing river of Life from its far-off fountainsFlows down mighty and broad, like a warhorse brought from its mangerArching its neck as it paces grand to the gorges of danger.Sometimes we hesitate, often start and would turn from t ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
417:Napoleon’s mind was swift and bold and vast,His heart was calm and stormy like the sea,His will dynamic in its grip and clasp.His eye could hold a world within its graspAnd see the great and small things sovereignly.A movement of gigantic d ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Dwarf Napoleon,
418:Now I have done with space and my soul is released from the hours.Saved is my heart from the need of joy, the attraction to sorrow,Who have escaped from my past and forgotten today and tomorrow;I have grown vacant and mighty, naked and wide as th ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.2.01 - The Descent of Ahana,
419:A Tree ::: A tree beside the sandy river-beach Holds up its topmost boughs Like fingers towards the skies they cannot reach, Earth-bound, heaven amorous. This is the soul of man. Body and brain Hungry for earth our heavenly flight detain. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
420:Mother-EarthWho but the fool and improvident, who but the dreamer and madmanLeaves for the far and ungrasped earth’s close and provident labour?Children of earth, our mother gives tokens, she lays down her signposts,Step by step to advance on her bosom, to g ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
421:Suffering is the food of our strength and torture the bliss of our entrails.We are pitiless, mighty and glad, the gods fear our laughter inhuman.Our hearts are heroic and hard; we wear the belt of Orion:Our will has the edge of the thunderbolt, o ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Children of Wotan,
422:We are the javelins of Destiny, we are the children of Wotan,We are the human Titans, the supermen dreamed by the sage.A cross of the beast and demoniac with the godhead of power and will,We were born in humanity’s sunset, to the Night is our pil ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems The Children of Wotan,
423:Earth-MemoryThe earth is safer, warmer its sunbeams;Death and limits are known; so he clings to them hating the summons.So might one dwell who has come to take joy in a fair-lighted prison;Amorous grown of its marble walls and its noble adornments,Lost to ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
424:I walk by the chill wave through the dull slimeAnd still that weary journeying knows no end;Lost is the lustrous godhead beyond Time,There comes no voice of the celestial Friend.And yet I know my footprints’ track shall beA pathway towards I ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 7.5.21 - The Pilgrim of the Night,
425:He tore desire up from its bleeding rootsAnd offered to the gods the vacant place. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 5.1.01 - Ilion,
426:All opposition seems and strife and chance,An aimless labour with but scanty sense,To eyes that see a part and miss the whole; ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems Songs to Myrtilla,
427:IN THE entire ten quarters of the Buddha land There is only one vehicle. When we see clearly, there is no difference in all the teachings. What is there to lose? What is there to gain? If we gain something, it was there from the beginning. If we lose anything, it is hidden nearby. Look at the ball in the sleeve of my robe. Surely it has great value.[ The first sentence of this poem quotes a famous line from the Lotus Sutra.] ~ Taigu Ryokan,
428:"Savitri", the poem, the word of Sri Aurobindo is the cosmic Answer to the cosmic Question. And Savitri, the person, the Godhead, the Divine Woman is the Divine's response to the human aspiration.The world is a great question mark. It is a riddle, eternal and ever-recurring. Man has faced the riddle and sought to arrive at a solution since he was given a mind to seek and interrogate.What is this universe? From where has it come? Whither is it going? What is the purpose of it all? Why is man here? What is the object of his existence? ~ Nolini Kanta Gupta, Savitri ,
429:Bride of the Fire ::: Bride of the Fire, clasp me now close, -Bride of the Fire!I have shed the bloom of the earthly rose,I have slain desire.Beauty of the Light, surround my life, -Beauty of the Light!I have sacrificed longing and parted from grief,I can bear thy delight.Image of Ecstasy, thrill and enlace, -Image of Bliss!I would see only thy marvellous face,Feel only thy kiss.Voice of Infinity, sound in my heart, -Call of the One!Stamp there thy radiance, never to part,O living sun. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
430:Krishna:::At last I find a meaning of soul's birthInto this universe terrible and sweet,I who have felt the hungry heart of earthAspiring beyond heaven to Krishna's feet.I have seen the beauty of immortal eyes,And heard the passion of the Lover's flute,And known a deathless ecstasy's surpriseAnd sorrow in my heart for ever mute.Nearer and nearer now the music draws,Life shudders with a strange felicity;All Nature is a wide enamoured pauseHoping her lord to touch, to clasp, to be.For this one moment lived the ages past;The world now throbs fulfilled in me at last. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
431:The Golden Light ::: Thy golden Light came down into my brainAnd the grey rooms of mind sun-touched becameA bright reply to Wisdom's occult plane,A calm illumination and a flame.Thy golden Light came down into my throat,And all my speech is now a tune divine,A paean-song of Thee my single note;My words are drunk with the Immortal's wine.Thy golden Light came down into my heartSmiting my life with Thy eternity;Now has it grown a temple where Thou artAnd all its passions point towards only Thee.Thy golden Light came down into my feet,My earth is now Thy playfield and Thy seat. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
432:The Silver Call There is a godhead of unrealised things To which Time's splendid gains are hoarded dross; A cry seems near, a rustle of silver wings Calling to heavenly joy by earthly loss. All eye has seen and all the ear has heard Is a pale illusion by some greater voice And mightier vision; no sweet sound or word, No passion of hues that make the heart rejoice Can equal those diviner ecstasies. A Mind beyond our mind has sole the ken Of those yet unimagined harmonies, The fate and privilege of unborn men. As rain-thrashed mire the marvel of the rose, Earth waits that distant marvel to disclose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 594,
433:I Have A Hundred Lives::: I have a hundred lives before me yetTo grasp thee in, O spirit ethereal,Be sure I will with heart insatiatePursue thee like a hunter through them all.Thou yet shalt turn back on the eternal wayAnd with awakened vision watch me comeSmiling a little at errors past, and layThy eager hand in mine, its proper home.Meanwhile made happy by thy happinessI shall approach thee in things and people dearAnd in thy spirit's motions half-possessLoving what thou hast loved, shall feel thee near,Until I lay my hands on thee indeedSomewhere among the stars, as 'twas decreed. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems 180,
434:The Divine WorkerI face earth's happenings with an equal soul;In all are heard Thy steps: Thy unseen feetTread Destiny's pathways in my front. Life's wholeTremendous theorem is Thou complete.No danger can perturb my spirit's calm:My acts are Thine; I do Thy works and pass;Failure is cradled on Thy deathless arm,Victory is Thy passage mirrored in Fortune's glass.In this rude combat with the fate of manThy smile within my heart makes all my strength;Thy Force in me labours at its grandiose plan,Indifferent to the Time-snake's crawling length.No power can slay my soul; it lives in Thee.Thy presence is my immortality. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
435:Cosmic Consciousness ::: I have wrapped the wide world in my wider selfAnd Time and Space my spirit's seeing are.I am the god and demon, ghost and elf,I am the wind's speed and the blazing star.All Nature is the nursling of my care,I am its struggle and the eternal rest;The world's joy thrilling runs through me, I bearThe sorrow of millions in my lonely breast.I have learned a close identity with all,Yet am by nothing bound that I become;Carrying in me the universe's callI mount to my imperishable home.I pass beyond Time and life on measureless wings,Yet still am one with born and unborn things. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
436:Because Thou Art ::: Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss, My soul blind and enamoured yearns for Thee; It bears thy mystic touch in all that is And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy. Behind all eyes I meet Thy secret gaze And in each voice I hear Thy magic tune: Thy sweetness haunts my heart through Nature's ways Nowhere it beats now from Thy snare immune. It loves Thy body in all living things; Thy joy is there in every leaf and stone: The moments bring thee on their fiery wings; Sight's endless artistry is Thou alone. Time voyages with Thee upon its prow And all the futures passionate hope is Thou. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
437:Invitation:::With wind and the weather beating round meUp to the hill and the moorland I go.Who will come with me? Who will climb with me?Wade through the brook and tramp through the snow?Not in the petty circle of citiesCramped by your doors and your walls I dwell;Over me God is blue in the welkin,Against me the wind and the storm rebel.I sport with solitude here in my regions,Of misadventure have made me a friend.Who would live largely? Who would live freely?Here to the wind-swept uplands ascend.I am the Lord of tempest and mountain,I am the Spirit of freedom and pride.Stark must he be and a kinsman to dangerWho shares my kingdom and walks at my side. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
438:A talisman is a storehouse of some particular kind of energy, the kind that is needed to accomplish the task for which you have constructed it...The decisive advantage of this system is not that its variety makes it so adaptable to our needs, but that we already posses the Invocations necessary to call forth the Energies required...You must lay most closely to your heart the theory of the Magical Link and see well to it that it rings true; for without this your talisman is worse than useless. It is dangerous; for all that Energy is bound to expend itself somehow; it will make its own links with anything handy that takes its fancy; and you can get into any sort of the most serious kind of trouble...Most of my Talismans, like my Invocations, have been poems. ~ Aleister Crowley, Magick without Tears ,
439:The magic in a word remains magic even if it is not understood, and loses none of its power. Poems may be understandable or they may not, but they must be good, and they must be real.From the examples of the algebraic signs on the walls of Kovalevskaia's nursery that had such a decisive influence on the child's fate, and from the example of spells, it is clear we cannot demand of all language: "be easy to understand, like the sign in the street." The speech of higher intelligence, even when it is not understandable, falls like seed into the fertile soil of the soul and only much later, in mysterious ways, does it bring forth its shoots. Does the earth understand the writing of the seeds a farmer scatters on its surface? No. But the grain still ripens in autumn, in response to those seeds. In any case, I certainly do not maintain that every incomprehensible piece of writing is beautiful. I mean only that we must not reject a piece of writing simply because it is incomprehensible to a particular group of readers. ~ Velimir Khlebnikov,
440:From the twilight of day till the twilight of evening, a leopard, in the last years of the thirteenth century, would see some wooden planks, some vertical iron bars, men and women who changed, a wall and perhaps a stone gutter filled with dry leaves. He did not know, could not know, that he longed for love and cruelty and the hot pleasure of tearing things to pieces and the wind carrying the scent of a deer, but something suffocated and rebelled within him and God spoke to him in a dream: ""You live and will die in this prison so that a man I know of may see you a certain number of times and not forget you and place your figure and symbol in a poem which has its precise place in the scheme of the universe. You suffer captivity, but you will have given a word to the poem. God, in the dream, illumined the animal's brutishness and the animal understood these reasons and accepted his destiny, but, when he awoke, there was in him only an obscure resignation, a valorous ignorance, for the machinery of the world is much too complex for the simplicity of a beast. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
441:If we are religious-minded, perhaps we will see the gods who inhabit this world. Beings, forces, sounds, lights, and rhythms are just so many true forms of the same indefinable, but not unknowable, Essence we call God; we have spoken of God, and made temples, laws or poems to try to capture the one little pulsation filling us with sunshine, but it is free as the wind on foam-flecked shores. We may also enter the world of music, which in fact is not different from the others but a special extension of this same, great inexpressible Vibration. If once, only once, even for a few moments in a lifetime, we can hear that Music, that Joy singing above, we will know what Beethoven and Bach heard; we will know what God is because we will have heard God. We will probably not say anything grandiose; we will just know that That exists, whereupon all the suffering in the world will seem redeemed. At the extreme summit of the overmind, there only remain great waves of multi-hued light, says the Mother, the play of spiritual forces, which later translate - sometimes much later - into new ideas, social changes, or earthly events, after crossing one by one all the layers of consciousness and suffering a considerable distortion and loss of light... ~ Satprem, Sri Aurobindo Or The Adventure Of Consciousness ,
442:Musa Spiritus ::: O Word concealed in the upper fire, Thou who hast lingered through centuries, Descend from thy rapt white desire, Plunging through gold eternities. Into the gulfs of our nature leap, Voice of the spaces, call of the Light! Break the seals of Matter's sleep, Break the trance of the unseen height. In the uncertain glow of human mind, Its waste of unharmonied thronging thoughts, Carve thy epic mountain-lined Crowded with deep prophetic grots. Let thy hue-winged lyrics hover like birds Over the swirl of the heart's sea. Touch into sight with thy fire-words The blind indwelling deity. O Muse of the Silence, the wideness make In the unplumbed stillness that hears thy voice, In the vast mute heavens of the spirit awake Where thy eagles of Power flame and rejoice. Out, out with the mind and its candles flares, Light, light the suns that never die. For my ear the cry of the seraph stars And the forms of the Gods for my naked eye! Let the little troubled life-god within Cast his veils from the still soul, His tiger-stripes of virtue and sin, His clamour and glamour and thole and dole; All make tranquil, all make free. Let my heart-beats measure the footsteps of God As He comes from His timeless infinity To build in their rapture His burning abode. Weave from my life His poem of days, His calm pure dawns and His noons of force. My acts for the grooves of His chariot-race, My thoughts for the tramp of His great steeds' course! ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
443:Many men think and write through inspiration. From where does it come?Many! That is indeed a wonderful thing. I did not think there have been so many.... So?Poets, when they write poems...Ah! Inspirations come from very many different places. There are inspirations that may be very material, there are inspirations that may be vital, there are inspirations that come from all kinds of mental planes, and there are very, very rare inspirations that come from the higher mind or from a still higher region. All inspirations do not come from the same place. Hence, to be inspired does not necessarily mean that one is a higher be- ing.... One may be inspired also to do and say many stupid things!What does "inspired" mean?It means receiving something which is beyond you, which was not within you; to open yourself to an influence which is outside your individual conscious being.Indeed, one can have also an inspiration to commit a murder! In countries where they decapitate murderers, cut off their heads, this causes a very brutal death which throws out the vital being, not allowing it the time to decompose for coming out of the body; the vital being is violently thrown out of the body, with all its impulses; and generally it goes and lodges itself in one of those present there, men half horrified, half with a kind of unhealthy curiosity. That makes the opening and it enters within. Statistics have proved that most young murderers admit that the impulse came to them when they were present at the death of another murderer. It was an "inspiration", but of a detestable kind.Fundamentally it is a moment of openness to something which was not within your personal consciousness, which comes from outside and rushes into you and makes you do something. This is the widest formula that can be given.Now, generally, when people say: "Oh! he is an inspired poet", it means he has received something from high above and expressed it in a remarkable manneR But one should rather say that his inspiration is of a high quality. ~ The Mother, Questions And Answers 1953 ,
444:Mother of Dreams ::: Goddess supreme, Mother of Dream, by thy ivory doors when thou standest,Who are they then that come down unto men in thy visions that troop, group upon group, down the path of the shadows slanting?Dream after dream, they flash and they gleam with the flame of the stars still around them;Shadows at thy side in a darkness ride where the wild fires dance, stars glow and glance and the random meteor glistens;There are voices that cry to their kin who reply; voices sweet, at the heart they beat and ravish the soul as it listens.What then are these lands and these golden sands and these seas more radiant than earth can imagine?Who are those that pace by the purple waves that race to the cliff-bound floor of thy jasper shore under skies in which mystery muses,Lapped in moonlight not of our night or plunged in sunshine that is not diurnal?Who are they coming thy Oceans roaming with sails whose strands are not made by hands, an unearthly wind advances?Why do they join in a mystic line with those on the sands linking hands in strange and stately dances?Thou in the air, with a flame in thy hair, the whirl of thy wonders watching,Holdest the night in thy ancient right, Mother divine, hyacinthine, with a girdle of beauty defended.Sworded with fire, attracting desire, thy tenebrous kingdom thou keepest,Starry-sweet, with the moon at thy feet, now hidden now seen the clouds between in the gloom and the drift of thy tresses.Only to those whom thy fancy chose, O thou heart-free, is it given to see thy witchcraft and feel thy caresses.Open the gate where thy children wait in their world of a beauty undarkened.High-throned on a cloud, victorious, proud I have espied Maghavan ride when the armies of wind are behind him;Food has been given for my tasting from heaven and fruit of immortal sweetness;I have drunk wine of the kingdoms divine and have healed the change of music strange from a lyre which our hands cannot master,Doors have swung wide in the chambers of pride where the Gods reside and the Apsaras dance in their circles faster and faster.For thou art she whom we first can see when we pass the bounds of the mortal;There at the gates of the heavenly states thou hast planted thy wand enchanted over the head of the Yogin waving.From thee are the dream and the shadows that seem and the fugitive lights that delude us;Thine is the shade in which visions are made; sped by thy hands from celestial lands come the souls that rejoice for ever.Into thy dream-worlds we pass or look in thy magic glass, then beyond thee we climb out of Space and Time to the peak of divine endeavour. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems ,
445:- for every well-made and significant poem, picture, statue or building is an act of creative knowledge, a living discovery of the consciousness, a figure of Truth, a dynamic form of mental and vital self-expression or world-expression, - all that seeks, all that finds, all that voices or figures is a realisation of something of the play of the Infinite and to that extent can be made a means of God-realisation or of divine formation. But the Yogin has to see that it is no longer done as part of an ignorant mental life; it can be accepted by him only if by the feeling, the remembrance, the dedication within it, it is turned into a movement of the spiritual consciousness and becomes a part of its vast grasp of comprehensive illuminating knowledge. For all must be done as a sacrifice, all activities must have the One Divine for their object and the heart of their meaning. The Yogin's aim in the sciences that make for knowledge should be to discover and understand the workings of the Divine Consciousness-Puissance in man and creatures and things and forces, her creative significances, her execution of the mysteries, the symbols in which she arranges the manifestation. The Yogin's aim in the practical sciences, whether mental and physical or occult and psychic, should be to enter into the ways of the Divine and his processes, to know the materials and means for the work given to us so that we may use that knowledge for a conscious and faultless expression of the spirit's mastery, joy and self-fulfilment. The Yogin's aim in the Arts should not be a mere aesthetic, mental or vital gratification, but, seeing the Divine everywhere, worshipping it with a revelation of the meaning of its own works, to express that One Divine in ideal forms, the One Divine in principles and forces, the One Divine in gods and men and creatures and objects. The theory that sees an intimate connection between religious aspiration and the truest and greatest Art is in essence right; but we must substitute for the mixed and doubtful religious motive a spiritual aspiration, vision, interpreting experience. For the wider and more comprehensive the seeing, the more it contains in itself the sense of the hidden Divine in humanity and in all things and rises beyond a superficial religiosity into the spiritual life, the more luminous, flexible, deep and powerful will the Art be that springs from that high motive. The Yogin's distinction from other men is this that he lives in a higher and vaster spiritual consciousness; all his work of knowledge or creation must then spring from there: it must not be made in the mind, - for it is a greater truth and vision than mental man's that he has to express or rather that presses to express itself through him and mould his works, not for his personal satisfaction, but for a divine purpose. ~ Sri Aurobindo, The Synthesis Of Yoga The Ascent of the Sacrifice - 1,
446:A God's LabourI have gathered my dreams in a silver air Between the gold and the blueAnd wrapped them softly and left them there, My jewelled dreams of you.I had hoped to build a rainbow bridge Marrying the soil to the skyAnd sow in this dancing planet midge The moods of infinity.But too bright were our heavens, too far away, Too frail their ethereal stuff;Too splendid and sudden our light could not stay; The roots were not deep enough.He who would bring the heavens here Must descend himself into clayAnd the burden of earthly nature bear And tread the dolorous way.Coercing my godhead I have come down Here on the sordid earth,Ignorant, labouring, human grown Twixt the gates of death and birth.I have been digging deep and long Mid a horror of filth and mireA bed for the golden river's song, A home for the deathless fire.I have laboured and suffered in Matter's night To bring the fire to man;But the hate of hell and human spite Are my meed since the world began.For man's mind is the dupe of his animal self; Hoping its lusts to win,He harbours within him a grisly Elf Enamoured of sorrow and sin.The grey Elf shudders from heaven's flame And from all things glad and pure;Only by pleasure and passion and pain His drama can endure.All around is darkness and strife; For the lamps that men call sunsAre but halfway gleams on this stumbling life Cast by the Undying Ones.Man lights his little torches of hope That lead to a failing edge;A fragment of Truth is his widest scope, An inn his pilgrimage.The Truth of truths men fear and deny, The Light of lights they refuse;To ignorant gods they lift their cry Or a demon altar choose.All that was found must again be sought, Each enemy slain revives,Each battle for ever is fought and refought Through vistas of fruitless lives.My gaping wounds are a thousand and one And the Titan kings assail,But I dare not rest till my task is done And wrought the eternal will.How they mock and sneer, both devils and men! "Thy hope is Chimera's headPainting the sky with its fiery stain; Thou shalt fall and thy work lie dead."Who art thou that babblest of heavenly ease And joy and golden roomTo us who are waifs on inconscient seas And bound to life's iron doom?"This earth is ours, a field of Night For our petty flickering fires.How shall it brook the sacred Light Or suffer a god's desires?"Come, let us slay him and end his course! Then shall our hearts have releaseFrom the burden and call of his glory and force And the curb of his wide white peace."But the god is there in my mortal breast Who wrestles with error and fateAnd tramples a road through mire and waste For the nameless Immaculate.A voice cried, "Go where none have gone! Dig deeper, deeper yetTill thou reach the grim foundation stone And knock at the keyless gate."I saw that a falsehood was planted deep At the very root of thingsWhere the grey Sphinx guards God's riddle sleep On the Dragon's outspread wings.I left the surface gauds of mind And life's unsatisfied seasAnd plunged through the body's alleys blind To the nether mysteries.I have delved through the dumb Earth's dreadful heart And heard her black mass' bell.I have seen the source whence her agonies part And the inner reason of hell.Above me the dragon murmurs moan And the goblin voices flit;I have pierced the Void where Thought was born, I have walked in the bottomless pit.On a desperate stair my feet have trod Armoured with boundless peace,Bringing the fires of the splendour of God Into the human abyss.He who I am was with me still; All veils are breaking now.I have heard His voice and borne His will On my vast untroubled brow.The gulf twixt the depths and the heights is bridged And the golden waters pourDown the sapphire mountain rainbow-ridged And glimmer from shore to shore.Heaven's fire is lit in the breast of the earth And the undying suns here burn;Through a wonder cleft in the bounds of birth The incarnate spirits yearnLike flames to the kingdoms of Truth and Bliss: Down a gold-red stairway wendThe radiant children of Paradise Clarioning darkness' end.A little more and the new life's doors Shall be carved in silver lightWith its aureate roof and mosaic floors In a great world bare and bright.I shall leave my dreams in their argent air, For in a raiment of gold and blueThere shall move on the earth embodied and fair The living truth of you. ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected Poems A God's Labour,

*** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***

1:(A poem can lie.) ~ Tracy K Smith,
2:poem about their ~ Colleen Hoover,
3:Every old poem is sacred. ~ Horace,
4:WINGS LOVE: POEMS ~ Danielle Steel,
5:A poem is like a painting. ~ Horace,
6:Lies belong in poems ~ Kenneth Koch,
7: Poema Negro
~ Augosto dos Anjos,
8:A poem is a naked person. ~ Bob Dylan,
9:This is what poems are: ~ Anne Sexton,
10:This sorry poem ~ John Walter Bratton,
11:What we eat is a poem. ~ Anthony Doerr,
12:A poem is a spider web ~ Charles Ghigna,
13:AMORY WRITES A POEM ~ F Scott Fitzgerald,
14:death poem of Hyakka, ~ Richard Flanagan,
15:...hatching his poems.. ~ Susanna Clarke,
16:Listen to presences inside poems. ~ Rumi,
17:My poems are like a dagger ~ Jose Marti,
18:My poems please the brave: ~ Jose Marti,
19:101 Greatest Romantic Poems ~ Bill Farrel,
20:A poem is not a pop-tart. ~ Mart n Espada,
21:In your beauty, how to make poems. ~ Rumi,
22:Listen to presences inside poems, ~ Rumi,
23:A picture is a poem without words ~ Horace,
24:A poem is no place for an idea. ~ E W Howe,
25:I’ll rise up as a poem… ~ Marina Tsvetaeva,
26:I n v i t a t I o n - Poem ~ Sri Aurobindo,
27:Let your poem be kept nine years. ~ Horace,
28: O Poema Do Frade
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
29:A picture is a poem without words. ~ Horace,
30:a poem is a city burning ~ Charles Bukowski,
31:A song is a poem set to music. ~ Tom T Hall,
32: Poemas Malditos I
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
33: Poemas Malditos V
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
34:That's what poems are for, ~ Tess Gallagher,
35:A picture is poem without words. ~ Confucius,
36:Many of my poems are not sexual. ~ Thom Gunn,
37: Poemas Malditos Ii
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
38: Poemas Malditos Iv
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
39: Poemas Malditos Vi
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
40:We are all writing God's poem. ~ Anne Sexton,
41:Every single soul is a poem. ~ Michael Franti,
42:Fourier is a mathematical poem. ~ Lord Kelvin,
43:If you like my poems let them ~ e e cummings,
44:I wanted to be a Poet and a Poem. ~ A S Byatt,
45: O Poema De Um Louco
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
46: Poemas Malditos Iii
~ Álvares de Azevedo,
47:Writing a poem is discovering. ~ Robert Frost,
48:Am văzut universul! E compus din poeme! ~ Sj n,
49:I write poems to figure things out ~ Sarah Kay,
50:A poem is a record of a discovery. ~ Ted Kooser,
51:I do not know how to make poems ~ Henri Michaux,
52:It's funny I want to write a poem. ~ Paul Beatty,
53:Poems are made by fools like me, ~ Joyce Kilmer,
54:Will slams poems; I slam doors. ~ Colleen Hoover,
55:Every word was once a poem. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
56:I want to make a poem of my life. ~ Yukio Mishima,
57:Leaving Verses Poems Quotes ~ John Walter Bratton,
58:Poetry is the enemy of the poem. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
59:Each man has his own batch of poems. ~ Saul Bellow,
60:Poems aren't postcards to send home. ~ Anne Sexton,
61:She was not a poet. She was a poem. ~ Deborah Levy,
62:The fatal problem with poetry: poems. ~ Ben Lerner,
63:Will slam poems and I slam doors. ~ Colleen Hoover,
64:Write the poem only you can write. ~ Billy Collins,
65:A poem should not mean but be. ~ Archibald MacLeish,
66:Birds are poems I haven't caught yet ~ Jim Harrison,
67:perhaps the greatest poem ever written ~ Rod Dreher,
68:They compose poems to their knives. ~ Frank Herbert,
69:Title deeds generally outlast poems. ~ Mason Cooley,
70:A poem is the realization of love. . . . ~ Rene Char,
71:Have you sipped your poems today? ~ Helvy Tiana Rosa,
72:I am a poem. There is no way out. ~ Charles Bukowski,
73:My poems are naughty, but my life is pure. ~ Martial,
74:Poems are difficult to silence. ~ Stephen Greenblatt,
75:The poem no longer transcended reality. ~ Jean Am ry,
76:Truly great poems never do, somehow. ~ Kurt Vonnegut,
77:Any time is the time to make a poem. ~ Gertrude Stein,
78:Create yourself. Be yourself your poem. ~ Oscar Wilde,
79:i am a woman and a poem. – visceral ~ Nayyirah Waheed,
80:I have seen the universe! It is made of poems! ~ Sj n,
81:I like Beethoven, especially the poems. ~ Ringo Starr,
82:Poems are the 'daredevil' of writing ~ Ralph Fletcher,
83:Poems come from incomplete knowledge. ~ Diane Wakoski,
84:there are times when silence is a poem. ~ John Fowles,
85:A poem begins with a lump in the throat ~ Robert Frost,
86:It takes a spasm of love to write a poem. ~ Erica Jong,
87:I will fill the poems with great pain ~ Dorothea Lasky,
88:Poems are invisible flowers on my skin. ~ Sanober Khan,
89:Poems are rough notations for the music we are. ~ Rumi,
90:The moment of change is the only poem. ~ Adrienne Rich,
91:The poem of the understanding is philosophy. ~ Novalis,
92:A good poem about failure is a success. ~ Philip Larkin,
93:a poem is never finished, only abandoned, ~ Clive James,
94:But here I hold your dream in my poem. ~ Rae Armantrout,
95:He is exactly the poem I wanted to write. ~ Mary Oliver,
96:If you cannot be a poet, be the poem. ~ David Carradine,
97:Los verdaderos poemas son incendios. ~ Vicente Huidobro,
98:Poems are never finished - just abandoned ~ Paul Val ry,
99:That grand old poem called Winter ~ Henry David Thoreau,
100:The ear writes my poems, not the mind. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
101:The true poem is the poet's mind. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
102:Your very flesh shall be a great poem... ~ Walt Whitman,
103:A good poem is a contribution to reality. ~ Dylan Thomas,
104:And your very flesh shall be a great poem ~ Walt Whitman,
105:A poem doesn't do everything for you. ~ Gwendolyn Brooks,
106:A poem should improve on the blank page. ~ Nicanor Parra,
107:No poem was ever written by a drinker of water. ~ Horace,
108:The poem is a confession of faith. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
109:...there are times when silence is a poem. ~ John Fowles,
110:And your very flesh shall be a great poem. ~ Walt Whitman,
111:A poem is a construction of inner space. ~ Sven Birkerts,
112:Could you defeat a cloud, a dream, a poem? ~ Peter Straub,
113:If I knew how to write a poem, I wouldn't. ~ James Galvin,
114:There are no honest poems about dead women. ~ Audre Lorde,
115:A poem is good until one knows by whom it is. ~ Karl Kraus,
116:A poem is like a score for the human voice. ~ Li Young Lee,
117:Leave New York or the poem will kill you. ~ Joshua Beckman,
118:No, I don't know any Emily Dickinson poems! ~ Andy Richter,
119:Poets don't finish poems, they abandon them. ~ Patti Smith,
120:The poet thinks with his poem... ~ William Carlos Williams,
121:All good poems are victories over something. ~ Stephen Dunn,
122:A poem begins in delight and ends in wisdom. ~ Robert Frost,
123:a poem can eat a person whole. for years. ~ Nayyirah Waheed,
124:El amor es un poema enteramente personal. ~ Honor de Balzac,
125:If a body is abandoned, does it become a poem? ~ Jon Pineda,
126:I have never injured anybody with a mordant poem; my ~ Ovid,
127:I like poems that are daggers that sing. ~ Frederick Seidel,
128:I write poems to find out why I write them ~ Stephen Dobyns,
129:poems are small moments of enlightenment ~ Natalie Goldberg,
130:Some poems are art because of their passion. ~ Gerald Stern,
131:There are either poems about sex/love or God. ~ Robert Hass,
132:A dark poem is meant to redeem the dark part. ~ C K Williams,
133:A poem isn't selfish. It speaks to people. ~ Wallace Stegner,
134:A poet is somebody who has written a poem. ~ Wallace Stegner,
135:I know wherever you are, there are poems. ~ Marina Tsvetaeva,
136:It is better to be a sad poem than a blank page. ~ Matt Haig,
137:It is difficult to get the news from poems ~ Alain de Botton,
138:Maybe the world, without us, is the real poem. ~ Mary Oliver,
139:Poets don't finish poems, they abandon them. ~ Gregory Corso,
140:so the poem hurt you.
it was supposed to. ~ Trista Mateer,
141:The real meaning of a poem is to stop time. ~ Ralph Fletcher,
142:You cannot hear a poem without it changing you ~ Neil Gaiman,
143:If these poems repeat themselves, then so does Spring. ~ Rumi,
144:Une danse est un poe' me. A dance is a poem. ~ Denis Diderot,
145:While he sweated out a story she bled put a poem. ~ S J Rozan,
146:you and the poems have a lot to talk about. ~ Nayyirah Waheed,
147:All the poems of our lives are not yet made. ~ Muriel Rukeyser,
148:A poem on the page speaks to the listening mind. ~ Mary Oliver,
149:For you
i have saved poems
under my skin. ~ Sanober Khan,
150:No poem ever bought a hamburger, or not too many. ~ Thomas Lux,
151:She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx. ~ Laini Taylor,
152:Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem. ~ Anne Sexton,
153:The poem is a plank laid over the lion's den. ~ James K Baxter,
154:Auden poem, “Let your last thinks all be thanks, ~ Oliver Sacks,
155:Every beautiful poem is an act of resistance. ~ Mahmoud Darwish,
156:I carry my unwritten poems in cipher on my face! ~ George Eliot,
157:Poems come out of wonder, not out of knowing. ~ Lucille Clifton,
158:An excess of childhood is the germ of a poem. ~ Gaston Bachelard,
159:El arte sucede cada vez que leemos un poema. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
160:Even the most political poem is an act of faith. ~ Martin Espada,
161:Even the most political poem is an act of faith. ~ Mart n Espada,
162:In a sense, every story or poem is a vacation. ~ Thomas C Foster,
163:More words DO NOT make a poem bigger! ~ Katerina Stoykova Klemer,
164:Poems reach me, and hold me, and give me pleasure. ~ Anne Sexton,
165:Poets don't finish poems, they abandon them. ~ Stephane Mallarme,
166:se misca precum un poem si zambea precum un sfinx ~ Laini Taylor,
167:The mind is the great poem of winter, the man, ~ Wallace Stevens,
168:The world is a great poem, and the world's ~ Philip James Bailey,
169:We walked through night until there was a poem. ~ Brenda Hillman,
170:A beautiful dress can be as exciting as a poem. ~ Roberto Cavalli,
171:I still read Donne, particularly his love poems ~ Carol Ann Duffy,
172:I've always wanted to write poems and nothing else. ~ Mary Oliver,
173:I wanted to be a Poet and a Poem, and now am neither, ~ A S Byatt,
174:Mark spoke like a poem and walked like a dance. ~ Cassandra Clare,
175:No book or poem is ever finished, merely abandoned. ~ Dan Simmons,
176:no book or poem is ever finished, merely abandoned. ~ Dan Simmons,
177:No indeed, poems were not made out of intentions. ~ Kingsley Amis,
178:Though rain curses the window let the poem be made. ~ Anne Sexton,
179:Uno no termina un poema, simplemente lo abandona. ~ David Markson,
180:What inspires a poem for me is usually a moment. ~ Sherman Alexie,
181:A poem is a small machine made of words. ~ William Carlos Williams,
182:Aunque la lluvia maldiga la ventana/ hágase el poema ~ Anne Sexton,
183:I am always pleased to be asked to write a poem. ~ Carol Ann Duffy,
184:If it ain't a pleasure, it ain't a poem. ~ William Carlos Williams,
185:I write poems like some people sing in the bathroom. ~ Amit Bhatia,
186:My life has been the poem I would have writ, ~ Henry David Thoreau,
187:No, I don't think poems will save us. And yet, and yet ~ Sarah Kay,
188:Sometimes the best revision of a poem is a new poem. ~ Marvin Bell,
189:A dog, I have always said, is prose; a cat is a poem. ~ Jean Burden,
190:A poem has secrets that the poet knows nothing of. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
191:A poem is a verbal artifact which must be as skillfully ~ W H Auden,
192:He does not write at all whose poems no man reads ~ Marcus Aurelius,
193:I am welcome in the world of words, stories, poems. ~ Hannah Howard,
194:I believe everyone has this fuckin' poem in his heart. ~ Bill Hicks,
195:"Poems are rough notations for the music we are." ~ Jalaluddin Rumi,
196:the poem ‘Unwelcome’ by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge. ~ Terry Pratchett,
197:Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky. ~ Khalil Gibran,
198:Writing a poem is making music with words and space. ~ Arnold Adoff,
199:And the poem, I think, is only your voice speaking. ~ Virginia Woolf,
200:Every poem breaks a silence that had to be overcome. ~ Adrienne Rich,
201:Half-closes her eyes — eyelids heavy with
poems. ~ Anna Akhmatova,
202:in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems ~ E E Cummings,
203:in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems ~ e e cummings,
204:Lineation can make your break your poems. ~ Katerina Stoykova Klemer,
205:Neither our vices nor our virtues further the poem. ~ William Dunbar,
206:Sometimes a word or an argument will trigger a poem. ~ Ama Ata Aidoo,
207:The poem finds the word that finds the feeling. ~ Jeanette Winterson,
208:though wish and world go down,one poem yet shall swim ~ E E Cummings,
209:Vincent Benét’s poem The Ballad of William Sycamore. ~ Louis L Amour,
210:14kt. woman you are a poem written in ink derived from gold ~ R H Sin,
211:Anything is a poem if you say it often enough. ~ Catherynne M Valente,
212:A picture is a voiceless poem, a poem is a vocal picture. ~ Anonymous,
213:Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem. ~ Edgar Allan Poe,
214:Craft is a trick you make up to let you write the poem. ~ Anne Sexton,
215:I don't go get a poem. It calls me and I accept it. ~ Lucille Clifton,
216:I found the poems in the fields And only wrote them down ~ John Clare,
217:I will write the evangel-poem of comrades and of love. ~ Walt Whitman,
218:The one great poem of New England is her Sunday. ~ Henry Ward Beecher,
219:You don't make a poem with ideas, but with words. ~ Stephane Mallarme,
220:And if I die, then who
Will write my poems to you? ~ Anna Akhmatova,
221:A poem can't do its work if you only read snippets of it. ~ John Green,
222:A poem is a ‘line’ between any two points in creation. ~ Charles Olson,
223:A poem is a small machine made out of words. ~ William Carlos Williams,
224:A poem should be wordless As the flight of birds. ~ Archibald MacLeish,
225:Early poems are a thing it takes years to live down. ~ Angela Thirkell,
226:If a muscleman like Hukum can write a poem, anyone can. ~ Pawan Mishra,
227:I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. ~ Joyce Kilmer,
228:Poems were never meant to be forced into commands. ~ Rachel Held Evans,
229:The language of the poem is the language of particulars. ~ Mary Oliver,
230:A poem is a flexible thing, and a poem is a poem. ~ Juan Felipe Herrera,
231:For poems are like rainbows; they escape you quickly. ~ Langston Hughes,
232:I myself always want to talk about "poetry," not "the poem." ~ Paul Fry,
233:I read a poem every night, as others read a prayer. ~ Tahar Ben Jelloun,
234:My ideal reader is somebody who reads my poems out loud. ~ James Arthur,
235:My picture-poems are linguistic margins on visual atolls. ~ Gunter Brus,
236:Outrage and possibility are in all the poems we know. ~ Muriel Rukeyser,
237:The mere ambition to write a poem is enough to kill it. ~ Henri Michaux,
238:And she is Lust… Mine also, little painted poem of God. ~ Annabel Joseph,
239:For me, the measure of a poem is the word, not the line. ~ John Kinsella,
240:I think of a poem as being deeper than headline news. ~ Naomi Shihab Nye,
241:My heart is in my/ pocket. It is poems by Pierre Reverdy. ~ Frank O Hara,
242:When the poems don’t come, don’t open the vodka. ~ Clementine von Radics,
243:A poem is a naked person... Some people say that I am a poet. ~ Bob Dylan,
244:A poem is a naked person....Some people say that I am a poet. ~ Bob Dylan,
245:a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read. ~ Sanober Khan,
246:Every woman is a living poem...
Most men are limericks! ~ Jos N Harris,
247:I only submit the poems I think are the strongest. ~ Shirley Geok lin Lim,
248:I think it's better if you write poems that look like you. ~ Richard Hugo,
249:It is never what a poem says that matters, but what it is. ~ I A Richards,
250:It was like trying to solve a math equation with a poem. ~ Mara Purnhagen,
251:I wax poetic On the beauty of sewers Real short poem. Done ~ Rick Riordan,
252:There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists. ~ Roberto Bolano,
253:There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists. ~ Roberto Bola o,
254:The secret title of every good poem might be 'Tenderness ~ Galway Kinnell,
255:A Poem should be palpable and mute As a globed fruit. ~ Archibald MacLeish,
256:But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good. ~ Sylvia Plath,
257:I found the poems in the fields,
And only wrote them down. ~ John Clare,
258:It had started with the moon, inaccessible poem that it was. ~ Patti Smith,
259:It's good to have poems that begin with tea and end with God. ~ Robert Bly,
260:I've always wanted editors that actually edited my poems. ~ Victoria Chang,
261:Many a poem is marred by a superfluous verse. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
262:We write poems / as leaves give oxygen - / so we can breathe. ~ Erica Jong,
263:When I see great boxers, it's like reading a wonderful poem. ~ Liam Neeson,
264:all my life
i have looked for poems

to elope with. ~ Sanober Khan,
265:A poem is a hand, a hook, a prayer. It is a soul in action. ~ Edward Hirsch,
266:He kisses like a poet. Like he's writing poems on my lips. ~ Veronica Rossi,
267:I say drop a mouse into a poem and watch him probe his way out, ~ Anonymous,
268:I write one poem a year, usually in January or February. ~ Emily Susan Rapp,
269:Novels are about other people and poems are about yourself. ~ Philip Larkin,
270:The poem is sad because it wants to be yours, and cannot be. ~ John Ashbery,
271:Try to write poems at least one person in the room will hate. ~ Marvin Bell,
272:A statute is written to entrap meaning, a poem to escape it. ~ Hilary Mantel,
273:Every moment of life is the last, every poem is a death poem. ~ Matsuo Basho,
274:Girls like poems better than dead dragons and magic swords, ~ Peter S Beagle,
275:Having examined three thousand haiku poems - two persimmons. ~ Masaoka Shiki,
276:I thought poems were songs for people with bad voices. ~ Lorna Dee Cervantes,
277:No poems can please long or live that are written by water drinkers ~ Horace,
278:Often it is a moment rather than an event that makes a poem. ~ Tracy K Smith,
279:The poem I want to write is impossible. A stone that floats. ~ Charles Simic,
280:The poem must resist the intelligence almost successfully. ~ Wallace Stevens,
281:Women are not supposed to have uteruses, especially in poems. ~ Maxine Kumin,
282:I'll die propped up in bed trying to do a poem about America. ~ Carl Sandburg,
283:No poems can please long or live that are written by water drinkers. ~ Horace,
284:There is something about a bureaucrat that does not like a poem. ~ Gore Vidal,
285:To translate a poem from thinking into English takes all night. ~ Grace Paley,
286:Wanted: a needle swift enough to sew this poem into a blanket ~ Charles Simic,
287:We tend to put poems into factions. And it restricts our reading. ~ Thom Gunn,
288:Am I going to die and all I will have are these fucking poems ~ Dorothea Lasky,
289:A poem is a serious joke, a truth that has learned jujitsu. ~ William Stafford,
290:Bill Knott's poems are . . . rhetorical fluff . . . and fake. ~ Ron Loewinsohn,
291:By mourning tongues The death of the poet was kept from his poems. ~ W H Auden,
292:Each poem leads you to the questions it makes sense to ask it. ~ Helen Vendler,
293:Goethe's poems are like tiny paintings in beautiful frames. ~ Bernhard Schlink,
294:I don't write poems and put them to music. Just let things flow. ~ Martin Gore,
295:I think he's wonderful and strange and kind of like a poem. ~ Whitley Strieber,
296:That's what poems are for, so you don't understand a thing. ~ Tatyana Tolstaya,
297:The poem is neither here nor there, and with a girl's breast ~ Mahmoud Darwish,
298:The United States themselves are essentially the greatest poem. ~ Walt Whitman,
299:A book or poem which has no pity in it had better not be written. ~ Oscar Wilde,
300:all the words
all the poems
know
my warm, soft spots. ~ Sanober Khan,
301:A poem is a form of refrigeration that stops language going bad. ~ Peter Porter,
302:Every single soul is a poem, written on the back of God's hand ~ Michael Franti,
303:I have never felt a placard and a poem are in any way similar. ~ Kristin Hunter,
304:in you
are poems
that aren't meant
to be read by everyone ~ R H Sin,
305:listen to my poems
but do not look for me
look for you. ~ Nayyirah Waheed,
306:the only truth is face to face, the poem whose words become your ~ Frank O Hara,
307:The poem must resist the intelligence
Almost successfully. ~ Wallace Stevens,
308:We know the particular poem, not what it says that we can restate. ~ Allen Tate,
309:What a mistake it was to distill the poem into something worthless ~ John Green,
310:He wanted to tell the baby that Paris was like a poem in stone. ~ Simon Van Booy,
311:If I wasn't writing poems I'd be washing my hands all the time. ~ Sherman Alexie,
312:I hope to leave behind a few poems it will be hard to get rid of. ~ Robert Frost,
313:I once broke up with a boy because he wrote me an awful poem. ~ Karen Joy Fowler,
314:I think my poems are slightly underrated by the word accessible. ~ Billy Collins,
315:It is not everyday that the world arranges itself into a poem. ~ Wallace Stevens,
316:Look, do you see that poem?' she said suddenly, pointing. ~ Lucy Maud Montgomery,
317:Manipulating shadows and tonality is like writing music or a poem. ~ Conrad Hall,
318:Poems arrive ready to begin.
Poets are only the transportation. ~ Mary Oliver,
319:The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom. ~ Robert Frost,
320:whether they write poems or don't write poems, poets are best. ~ Randall Jarrell,
321:You must be careful not to deprive the poem of its wild origin. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
322:And isn't that what a poem is? A lantern glowing in the dark. ~ Elizabeth Acevedo,
323:Are not our noblest feelings as it were the poems of our will. ~ Honore de Balzac,
324:Every poem is a momentary stay against the confusion of the world. ~ Robert Frost,
325:Every poem should remind the reader that they are going to die. ~ Edgar Allan Poe,
326:I'd like to think...that people in pubs would talk about my poems ~ Philip Larkin,
327:Just write a poem as if you're writing a note to one other person. ~ Jim Jarmusch,
328:The poem is in my hands, and can run stories through her hands. ~ Mahmoud Darwish,
329:Who would have known that writing a poem would be so much work? ~ Isabel Quintero,
330:You must believe a poem is a holy thing, a good poem, that is. ~ Theodore Roethke,
331:A great poem is no finish to a man or woman but rather a beginning. ~ Walt Whitman,
332:Back then, I couldn't have left a poem a year and gone back to it. ~ Philip Levine,
333:Maybe if we re-invent whatever our lives give us we find poems. ~ Naomi Shihab Nye,
334: Poem
At your light side trees shy
A kneeling enters them
~ Bill Knott,
335:Poems are my link with the times, with the new life of my people. ~ Anna Akhmatova,
336:The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom. – ~ Robert Frost,
337:The Gita is not an aphoristic work, it is a great religious poem. ~ Mahatma Gandhi,
338:The words of true poems are the tuft and final applause of science. ~ Walt Whitman,
339:When fiction writers like my poems I feel like I've hit the jackpot. ~ Cate Marvin,
340:Every word was once a poem. Every new relation is a new word. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
341:I am not a nature poet. There is almost always a person in my poems. ~ Robert Frost,
342:I don’t know if you or I exist, but somewhere there are poems about us. ~ Linh Dinh,
343:if Saint Bruce doesn't like your poem, he chops your head off. ~ Vivian Vande Velde,
344:I let my narrative embroidering impulses take over in prose poems. ~ Matthea Harvey,
345:I’ve been bathing in the poem of the star-steeped milky flowing sea, ~ Ted Berrigan,
346:...some of the best love poems have been written by monks and nuns... ~ John Geddes,
347:Those of us who make up poems have agreed not to say what the pain is. ~ Robert Bly,
348:I'm sorry for the poems.
All the shouting I did about your mouth. ~ Trista Mateer,
349:I'm uncomfortable with the focus on the poet and not on the poem. ~ Yusef Komunyakaa,
350:I wish I could write lyrical poems, but I just write the way they come. ~ Tom Paulin,
351:or that writing a poem you can read to no one
is like dancing in the dark. ~ Ovid,
352:Poems are like dreams: in them you put what you don't know you know. ~ Adrienne Rich,
353:Read a nice poem or watch the sunrise, both are the same thing! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan,
354:The tickling of the sounds of the hearts is more poetic than any poem. ~ Shikha Kaul,
355:Who do you serve? Do you serve somebody?
I serve the poem, no one. ~ Alice Notley,
356:and everyone wants to read the poem
we’re afraid to write. ~ Kelli Russell Agodon,
357:Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can't sing, I call a poem. ~ Bob Dylan,
358:A poem is a box, a thing, to put other things in. For safe keeping. ~ Marianne Boruch,
359:I have read the Aeneid through more often than I have read any long poem. ~ C S Lewis,
360:I've burnt all the holy pages I used to carry
but poems flare in my heart ~ Ikkyu,
361:I would fave preferred the happy man to the unhappy poems he's left us ~ Jack Kerouac,
362:I wrote too many poems in a language I did not yet know how to speak. ~ Andrea Gibson,
363:my poems are only bits of scratching
on the floor of a
cage. ~ Charles Bukowski,
364:Poems are soft kitten furs. smoothing out the rough edges of my world. ~ Sanober Khan,
365:Reading a poem in translation is like kissing a woman through a veil. ~ Anne Michaels,
366:Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
367:The poet marries the language, and out of this marriage the poem is born. ~ W H Auden,
368:There was no text. “Real” poems do not “really” require words. I ~ Layli Long Soldier,
369:The statement I do not hate you is a poem of passionate love. ~ Gregory David Roberts,
370:This poem will never reach its destination. On Rousseau's Ode To Posterity ~ Voltaire,
371:To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June ~ Jean Paul Sartre,
372:A poem is an empty house.
[Stranger, you must enter, then knock.] ~ Robert Kroetsch,
373:A poem is, so to speak, a way of making you forget how you wrote it. ~ Randall Jarrell,
374:Come windless invader
I am a carnival of
Stars, a poem of blood. ~ Sonia Sanchez,
375:I wax poetic
On the beauty of sewers
Real short poem. Done
~ Rick Riordan,
376:I was reading the dictionary, I thought it was a poem about everything ~ Steven Wright,
377:Mi corazón está brotando flores en mitad de la noche

Poema Azteca ~ Octavio Paz,
378:One cannot write poems about trees when the forest is full of police. ~ Bertolt Brecht,
379:The finest poems of the world have been expedients to get bread. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
380:The pleasure we feel, reading a poem, is our assurance of its integrity. ~ Donald Hall,
381:To dissect a poem as if it were a system is a crime, even a sacrilege. ~ Emil M Cioran,
382:Warriors are poets and poems and all the loveliness here in the worlds. ~ Amiri Baraka,
383:When you read and understand a poem, then you master chaos a little. ~ Stephen Spender,
384:Yo creía que quería ser poeta, pero en el fondo quería ser poema ~ Jaime Gil de Biedma,
385:Anon, who wrote so many poems without signing them, was often a woman. ~ Virginia Woolf,
386:A poem is something sacred. Let no one Take it for anything except itself. ~ Jose Marti,
387:Each word bears its weight, so you have to read my poems quite slowly. ~ Anne Stevenson,
388:Everyone thinks they're going to write one book of poems or one novel. ~ Marilyn Hacker,
389:I believe that poems die the moment they are outwardly expressed. ~ Maurice Maeterlinck,
390:I don't like poems that invent memories, I have enough of my own. ~ Andre Naffis Sahely,
391:I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything. ~ Steven Wright,
392:no poet can know what his poem is going to be like until he has written it. ~ W H Auden,
393:Poetry can only be made out of other poems; novels out of other novels. ~ Northrop Frye,
394:some bodies can't be touched/some poems
cannot be written/just felt ~ Kai Cheng Thom,
395:Umberto Eco has called his poem ‘the apotheosis of the virtual world’. ~ Jonathan Black,
396:An unromantic poem I mean to make, of one who only lives for duty's sake. ~ Henrik Ibsen,
397:But most commonly, it's one poem that I work on with a lot of intensity. ~ Philip Levine,
398:For many years, I thought a poem was a whisper overheard, not an aria heard. ~ Rita Dove,
399:For me poems are acts re-done, and that can vibrate well into the future. ~ Anne Waldman,
400:I am looking for a poem that says Everything so I don't have to write anymore. ~ Tukaram,
401:Iconicity provides an extra layer of metaphorical structure to the poem. ~ George Lakoff,
402:Light is more important than the lantern,
The poem more important than the notebook ~,
403:Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting. ~ Robert Frost,
404:Poems are like people' I said 'There are not many authentic ones around. ~ Robert Graves,
405:The poem is a capsule where we wrap up our punishable secrets. ~ William Carlos Williams,
406:There's a reason they didn't keep this poem. This poem tells you to fight. ~ Ally Condie,
407:There’s a reason they didn’t keep this poem. This poem tells you to fight. ~ Ally Condie,
408:vive conmigo un día y una noche y te mostraré el origen de todos los poemas. ~ Anonymous,
409:You can't write poems about trees when the woods are full of policemen. ~ Bertolt Brecht,
410:Death you are a poem
And I've been promised by a poem, that it shall meet me ~ Gulzar,
411:Does the poem reside in experience or in self-consciousness about experience? ~ Mark Doty,
412:Every good poem asks a question, and every good poet asks every question. ~ Dorianne Laux,
413:History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of Man! ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
414:History is a cyclic poem written by time upon the memories of man. ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
415:My earliest poems were a way of talking to somebody. I suppose to myself. ~ Philip Levine,
416:One of the ex-sucias publishes a poem about you online. It's called "El Puto ~ Junot D az,
417:The grand style is available now only in old poems, museums, and parodies. ~ Mason Cooley,
418:Yo creía que quería ser poeta, pero en el fondo quería ser poema... ~ Jaime Gil de Biedma,
419:Be silent now. Say fewer and fewer praise poems. Let yourself become living poetry. ~ Rumi,
420:For it is not metres, but a metre-making argument that makes a poem. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
421:He who would write heroic poems should make his whole life a heroic poem. ~ Thomas Carlyle,
422:If a poem hasn't ripped apart your soul; you haven't experienced poetry. ~ Edgar Allan Poe,
423:if I had one ambition it was to make my life itself into a poem. ~ Natalie Clifford Barney,
424:I have also written some poems which have not been collected in a volume. ~ Grazia Deledda,
425:It’s a good poem if I’m a different person when I’m finished reading it. ~ Brandon Stanton,
426:Never get so attached to a poem that you forget truth that lacks lyricism. ~ Joanna Newsom,
427:Nowhere in Chaucer do we find what can be called a radically allegorical poem. ~ C S Lewis,
428:They’re called poems but in reality they’re lines given to me to hang on to ~ John Trudell,
429:We all write poems; it is simply that poets are the ones who write in words. ~ John Fowles,
430:We turned an anthem into an assignment, a poem into a job description. ~ Rachel Held Evans,
431:You sweet delusions of my mind

(From the poem 'From Love to Friendship') ~ Voltaire,
432:If a poet interprets a poem of his own he limits its suggestibility. ~ William Butler Yeats,
433:If you can explain a poem, it is not a poem. Poetry has to be inexplicable. ~ Luis Gonzalez,
434:I like short poems with weird rhyme schemes, because that's what life is like. ~ John Green,
435:I try to apply colors like words that shape poems, like notes that shape music. ~ Joan Miro,
436:Novels seem to me to be richer, broader, deeper, more enjoyable than poems. ~ Philip Larkin,
437:Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread. ~ Pablo Neruda,
438:Poems seem to have a life of their own. They tell you when enough is enough. ~ Thomas Lynch,
439:Poetry seldom occurs in poems. Poetry only occurs when words cause action. ~ Raoul Vaneigem,
440:There are those fortunate hours when the world consents to be made into a poem. ~ Mark Doty,
441:You’re speaking volumes, my friend, and tonight we’re doing short poems only. ~ Andr Aciman,
442:A perfect poem is impossible. Once it had been written, the world would end. ~ Robert Graves,
443:For me, a poem is an opportunity to kind of interrogate myself a little bit. ~ Tracy K Smith,
444:How to Write a Poem

Catch the air
around the butterfly. ~ Katerina Stoykova Klemer,
445:I really just love reading. It's my favorite thing, performing my poems live. ~ Eileen Myles,
446:Never write a poem about anything that ought to have a poem written about it. ~ Richard Hugo,
447:Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems ~ Walt Whitman,
448:Take a step, breathe in the world, give it out again in story, poem, song, art. ~ Jane Yolen,
449:The poem has some value, believe me. It keeps you from going totally mad. ~ Charles Bukowski,
450:When one is highly alert to language, then nearly everything begs to be a poem. ~ James Tate,
451:A poem is the very image of life expressed in its eternal truth. There ~ Percy Bysshe Shelley,
452:Every phrase and every sentence is an end and a beginning, every poem an epitaph. ~ T S Eliot,
453:Find someone who will tremble for your touch, someone whose fingers are a poem. ~ Janet Fitch,
454:for which he had to pay “1 panegyrick poem every year.” That is Homeric rent. ~ Adam Nicolson,
455:has gastado los años y te han gastado, y todavía no has escrito el poema. ~ Jorge Luis Borges,
456:...have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ... ~ John Geddes,
457:I always did poetry, and [rap music is] pretty much hip-hop melody with poems. ~ Tiffany Foxx,
458:if you memorize three hundred Tang poems, you might be able to write a little. ~ Qiu Xiaolong,
459:I got $30 from Nation magazine for a poem and $500 for my first book of poems. ~ Jim Harrison,
460:In the manner of one recognizing a line from a familiar poem in a strange book. ~ Neil Gaiman,
461:It is not what a poem says with its mouth, it’s what a poem does with its eyes. ~ Mary Ruefle,
462:It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke,
463:Leo Connellan has retained his soul and voice in Provincetown and Other Poems. ~ Karl Shapiro,
464:People are born with the knack to write poems and songs. I'm not a poet at all. ~ Petra Haden,
465:Satire among the Romans, but not among the Greeks, was a bitter invective poem. ~ John Dryden,
466:Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke #poetry,
467:The first task of the poet is to create the person who will write the poems. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
468:The great philosophers are poets who believe in the reality of their poems. ~ Antonio Machado,
469:The great poem must have the stamp of greatness as well as its essence. ~ Henry David Thoreau,
470:The poem comes in the form of a blessing, like rapture breaking on the mind. ~ Stanley Kunitz,
471:The poem is important, but not more than the people whose survival it serves. ~ Wendell Berry,
472:When I cannot write a poem, I bake biscuits and feel just as pleased. ~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh,
473:Don't write love poems when you're in love. Write them when you're not in love. ~ Richard Hugo,
474:Having my poems set to music by Eric Moe has completely knocked my socks off. ~ Matthea Harvey,
475:I sit in my tree I sing like the birds My beak is my pen My songs are my poems. ~ David Almond,
476:I still write poems for you the same way other people bring flowers to graves. ~ Trista Mateer,
477:It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson,
478:It is easier to write an indifferent poem than to understand a good one. ~ Michel de Montaigne,
479:It is what man does not know of God Composes the visible poem of the world. ~ Richard Eberhart,
480:It was just a poem, Xiomara, I think.

But it felt more like a gift. ~ Elizabeth Acevedo,
481:„Ochii ei erau cu adevărat poem iar privirile alcătuiau fiecare un cântec. ~ Th ophile Gautier,
482:Poems give you the lives of others and then circle in on your own inner world. ~ Frances Mayes,
483:The box was a universe, a poem, frozen on the boundaries of human experience. ~ William Gibson,
484:The machines are too dull when we
are lion-poems that move & breathe. ~ Michael McClure,
485:The poem, for me, is simply the first sound realized in the modality of being. ~ Charles Olson,
486:There isn't enough paper in the world to write all the poems you inspire in me. ~ Rae D Magdon,
487:When people praise a poem that I can't understand I always think they're lying. ~ Stephen Dunn,
488:You write poems
because you need
a place
where what isn’t may be ~ Alejandra Pizarnik,
489:All pasts are like poems; one can derive a thousand things, but not live in them. ~ John Fowles,
490:A poem deserves its title only inasmuch as it excites, by elevating the soul. ~ Edgar Allan Poe,
491:A poem is an invitation to a voyage. As in life, we travel to see fresh sights. ~ Charles Simic,
492:A poem is like a radio that can broadcast continuously for thousands of years. ~ Allen Ginsberg,
493:...a poem is only finished when the last reader has read it or listened to it. ~ Cees Nooteboom,
494:i am simply the poet. the poem is the one that can change your life. – medium ~ Nayyirah Waheed,
495:I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering. ~ Robert Frost,
496:I like poems you can tack all over with a hammer and there are no hollow places. ~ John Ashbery,
497:Louise Glück’s Ararat dissects family relationships in starkly beautiful poems. ~ Kim Addonizio,
498:Poetry is a useful place for lamentation...poems are a place where we can cry out. ~ bell hooks,
499:The dark night was the first book of poetry and the constellations were the poems. ~ Chet Raymo,
500:There's two kinds of women--those you write poems about and those you don't. ~ Jeffrey McDaniel,

--- IN CHAPTERS (in Dictionaries, in Quotes, in Chapters)



100

   9 Integral Yoga
   7 Philosophy
   6 Occultism
   2 Yoga
   2 Christianity


   27 Sri Aurobindo
   8 Satprem
   6 The Mother
   6 Aleister Crowley
   4 Aldous Huxley
   3 Jorge Luis Borges
   3 Friedrich Nietzsche
   3 Carl Jung
   2 Saint Augustine of Hippo
   2 Nolini Kanta Gupta


   78 Collected Poems
   10 Poetics
   8 Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness
   6 Words Of Long Ago
   6 The Mothers Agenda
   5 The Secret Doctrine
   5 Savitri
   4 The Perennial Philosophy
   4 Magick Without Tears
   3 The Mother With Letters On The Mother
   3 The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna
   3 Letters On Yoga I
   3 Aion
   2 Twilight of the Idols
   2 The Synthesis Of Yoga
   2 The Secret Of The Veda
   2 The Confessions of Saint Augustine
   2 Talks With Sri Aurobindo
   2 Talks
   2 Liber ABA
   2 Letters On Yoga II
   2 Essays Divine And Human


0.06_-_1956, #Agenda Vol 1, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  Michelangelo to Goya, from Van Gogh to Rodin, from Villon to Rimbaud, Baudelaire or
  Dostoevski? And the work of art - the painting, novel or poem - is a harmony torn from this disharmony, a conquest over some chaos, a response to a question posed by man - a metamorphosis.
  

0.06_-_INTRODUCTION, #Dark Night of the Soul, #Saint John of the Cross, #Christianity
  of the soul transformed in God through love.
  The stanzas expounded by the Saint are taken from the same poem in the two
  treatises. The commentary upon the second, however, is very different from that
  --
  fullness the nature of this spiritual purgation or dark contemplation referred to in
  the first stanza of his poem and the varieties of pain and affliction caused by it,
  whether in the soul or in its faculties (Chapters iv-viii). These chapters are brilliant
  --
  the soul with its heat, the delights experienced are so great as to be ineffable.
  The second line of the first stanza of the poem is expounded in three
  admirable chapters (xi-xiii), while one short chapter (xiv) suffices for the three lines
  --
  This contemplation is not only dark, but also secret (Chapter xvii), and in
  Chapter xviii is compared to the 'staircase' of the poem. This comparison suggests to
  the Saint an exposition (Chapters xviii, xix) of the ten steps or degrees of love which
  --
  which they follow the stanzas of which they are the exposition. In the Ascent and
  the Dark Night, on the other hand, we catch only the echoes of the poem, which are
  all but lost in the resonance of the philosopher's voice and the eloquent tones of the

03.03_-_The_House_of_the_Spirit_and_the_New_Creation, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  A mystery drama of divine delight,
  A living poem of world-ecstasy,
  A kakemono of significant forms,

04.02_-_The_Growth_of_the_Flame, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The underlying patterns of the unseen:
  poems in largeness cast like moving worlds
  And metres surging with the ocean's voice

04.03_-_The_Call_to_the_Quest, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Star-lustrous eyes awake in sweet large night
  And limbs like fine-linked poems made of gold
  Stanzaed to glimmering curves by artist gods,

08.03_-_Death_in_the_Forest, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  The Book of Death was taken from Canto Three of an early version of Savitri which had only six cantos and an epilogue. It was slightly revised at a late stage and a number of new lines were added, but it was never fully worked into the final version of the poem. Its original designation, "Canto Three", has been retained as a reminder of this.
  

10.04_-_The_Dream_Twilight_of_the_Earthly_Real, #Savitri, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Each in its hour eternal claimed went by:
  Ideals, systems, sciences, poems, crafts
  Tireless there perished and again recurred,

1.01_-_An_Accomplished_Westerner, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  There was an attachment to English and European thought and literature, but not to England as a country; I had no ties there. . . . If there was attachment to a European land as a second country, it was intellectually and emotionally to one not seen or lived in in this life,
  not England, but France.5 The poet had begun to awaken in him; he was already listening to the footsteps of invisible things, as he put it in one of his early poems; his inner window had already opened,
  4

1.01_-_'Imitation'_the_common_principle_of_the_Arts_of_Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  I propose to treat of Poetry in itself and of its various kinds, noting the essential quality of each; to inquire into the structure of the plot as requisite to a good poem; into the number and nature of the parts of which a poem is composed; and similarly into whatever else falls within the same inquiry. Following, then, the order of nature, let us begin with the principles which come first.
  

1.01_-_MAXIMS_AND_MISSILES, #Twilight of the Idols, #Friedrich Nietzsche, #Philosophy
  
  [1] This is a reference to Seume's poem "_Die Gesnge"_ the first verse
  of which is:--

1.02_-_Skillful_Means, #The Lotus Sutra, #Anonymous, #Various
  Miraculous tales, explanatory tales,
  Allegories, poems, and exegeses.
  The Buddha teaches nirvana

1.02_-_The_Divine_Teacher, #Essays On The Gita, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  HE PECULIARITY of the Gita among the great religious books of the world is that it does not stand apart as a work by itself, the fruit of the spiritual life of a creative personality like Christ, Mahomed or Buddha or of an epoch of pure spiritual searching like the Veda and Upanishads, but is given as an episode in an epic history of nations and their wars and men and their deeds and arises out of a critical moment in the soul of one of its leading personages face to face with the crowning action of his life, a work terrible, violent and sanguinary, at the point when he must either recoil from it altogether or carry it through to its inexorable completion. It matters little whether or no, as modern criticism supposes, the Gita is a later composition inserted into the mass of the Mahabharata by its author in order to invest its teaching with the authority and popularity of the great national epic. There seem to me to be strong grounds against this supposition for which, besides, the evidence, extrinsic or internal, is in the last degree scanty and insufficient. But even if it be sound, there remains the fact that the author has not only taken pains to interweave his work inextricably into the vast web of the larger poem, but is careful again and again to remind us of the situation from which the teaching has arisen; he returns to it prominently, not only at the end, but in the middle of his profoundest philosophical disquisitions. We must accept the insistence of the author and give its full importance to this recurrent preoccupation of the Teacher and the disciple.
  
  --
  Mahabharata, we may fairly conclude that they were actually contemporaries and that the epic is to a great extent dealing with historical characters and in the war of Kurukshetra with a historical occurrence imprinted firmly on the memory of the race. We know too that Krishna and Arjuna were the object of religious worship in the pre-Christian centuries; and there is some reason to suppose that they were so in connection with a religious and philosophical tradition from which the Gita may have gathered many of its elements and even the foundation of its synthesis of knowledge, devotion and works, and perhaps also that the human Krishna was the founder, restorer or at the least one of the early teachers of this school. The Gita may well in spite of its later form represent the outcome in Indian thought of the teaching of Krishna and the connection of that teaching with the historical Krishna, with Arjuna and with the war of
  Kurukshetra may be something more than a dramatic fiction. In the Mahabharata Krishna is represented both as the historical character and the Avatar; his worship and Avatarhood must therefore have been well established by the time - apparently from the fifth to the first centuries B.C. - when the old story and poem or epic tradition of the Bharatas took its present form. There is a hint also in the poem of the story or legend of the Avatar's early life in Vrindavan which, as developed by the Puranas into an intense and powerful spiritual symbol, has exercised so profound an influence on the religious mind of
  India. We have also in the Harivansha an account of the life of

1.02_-_The_Eternal_Law, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  progressive notations, reversions, perversions, mounting conversions into a greater figure of harmony; and of all these things the Spirit has made, makes always his universe. But it is himself that he makes in it,
  himself that is the creator and the energy of creation and the cause and the method and the result of the working, the mechanist and the machine, the music and the musician, the poet and the poem,
  supermind, mind, and life and matter, the soul and Nature.18

1.02_-_The_Three_European_Worlds, #The Ever-Present Origin, #Jean Gebser, #Integral
  
  This psychic inner-space breaks forth at the very moment that the Troubadours are writing the first lyric "I"-poems, the first personal poetry that suddenly opens an abyss between man, as poet, and the world or nature (1250 A.D.). Concurrently at the University of Paris, Thomas Aquinas, following the thought of his teacher Albertus Magnus, asserts the validity of Aristotle, thereby initiating the rational displacement of the predominantly psychic-bound Platonic world.
  

1.02_-_Where_I_Lived,_and_What_I_Lived_For, #Walden, and On The Duty Of Civil Disobedience, #Henry David Thoreau, #Philosophy
  When first I took up my abode in the woods, that is, began to spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on Independence
  Day, or the Fourth of July, 1845, my house was not finished for winter, but was merely a defence against the rain, without plastering or chimney, the walls being of rough, weather-stained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and window casings gave it a clean and airy look, especially in the morning, when its timbers were saturated with dew, so that I fancied that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them. To my imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this auroral character, reminding me of a certain house on a mountain which I had visited the year before. This was an airy and unplastered cabin, fit to entertain a travelling god, and where a goddess might trail her garments. The winds which passed over my dwelling were such as sweep over the ridges of mountains, bearing the broken strains, or celestial parts only, of terrestrial music. The morning wind forever blows, the poem of creation is uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it.
  

1.035_-_The_Recitation_of_Mantra, #The Study and Practice of Yoga, #Swami Krishnananda, #Yoga
  
  In Indian tradition, we have the mantras which are also associated with certain factors other than merely a combination of words, one aspect of which is what is known as chandas. This a peculiar feature of the formation of a mantra. A chandas is a particular method of combining words according to a rule called ghana shastra, which is known in mystical circles in India. A particular word, when it is combined with another particular word, produces a particular effect. Rhetoricians are well acquainted with this subject. Great novelists and poets in India, especially those endowed with special genius and charged with divine power, such as Kalidasa, followed this technique of ghana shastra, and knowing the power of words, composed their poems or their works in such a way that they follow the rules of accepted rhetoric. Ordinary literature is not acquainted with this secret of Sanskrit literature. The greatness of a poet can be judged from the way he starts the work. How does he start the work? What is the word that he uses in the beginning? It is the belief among great writers in India that the initial phrases at the commencement of the work tell upon the nature of the entire work that is to follow.
  

1.03_-_Master_Ma_is_Unwell, #The Blue Cliff Records, #Yuanwu Keqin, #Zen
  merely an emotional view. This (line) comes from Ch'an
  Yueh's poem on "The behavior of barons," which says,
  Clothes in brocades and fine embroidery, with fal

1.03_-_The_Manner_of_Imitation., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  These, then, as we said at the beginning, are the three differences which distinguish artistic imitation,--the medium, the objects, and the manner. So that from one point of view, Sophocles is an imitator of the same kind as Homer--for both imitate higher types of character; from another point of view, of the same kind as Aristophanes--for both imitate persons acting and doing. Hence, some say, the name of 'drama' is given to such poems, as representing action. For the same reason the Dorians claim the invention both of Tragedy and Comedy. The claim to Comedy is put forward by the Megarians,--not only by those of Greece proper, who allege that it originated under their democracy, but also by the Megarians of Sicily, for the poet Epicharmus, who is much earlier than Chionides and Magnes, belonged to that country. Tragedy too is claimed by certain Dorians of the Peloponnese. In each case they appeal to the evidence of language. The outlying villages, they say, are by them called {kappa omega mu alpha iota}, by the Athenians {delta eta mu iota}: and they assume that Comedians were so named not from {kappa omega mu 'alpha zeta epsilon iota nu}, 'to revel,' but because they wandered from village to village (kappa alpha tau alpha / kappa omega mu alpha sigma), being excluded contemptuously from the city. They add also that the Dorian word for 'doing' is {delta rho alpha nu}, and the Athenian, {pi rho alpha tau tau epsilon iota nu}.
  

1.03_-_To_Layman_Ishii, #Beating the Cloth Drum Letters of Zen Master Hakuin, #Hakuin Ekaku, #Zen
  Blue Cliff Record, Case 55). q These are some of the eighteen types of questions Zen students are said to ask their teachers. This is a formulation by Fen-yang (947-1024) in The Eye of Men and Gods. r Free up the cicada's wings . Although a similar expression is used in the Book of Latter Han to describe a lord showing great partiality to a favorite, here it refers to the statement made earlier about a teacher ruining a student's chances by stepping in to help the student prematurely. s Two of eight difficult places or situations (hachinan) in which it is difficult for people to encounter a Buddha, hear him preach the Dharma, and attain liberation: Uttarakuru, the continent to the north of
  Mount Sumeru, because inhabitants enjoy lives of interminable pleasure; and being enthralled in the worldly wisdom and skillful words (sechibens) of secular life. Dried buds and dead seeds (shge haishu) is a term of reproach directed at followers of the Two Vehicles, who are said to have no possibility for attaining complete enlightenment. t In the system of koan study that developed in later Hakuin Zen, hosshin or Dharmakaya koans are used in the beginning stages of practice (see Zen Dust, 46-50). The lines Hakuin quotes here are not found in the poems of Han-shan (Han-shan shih). They are attributed to Han-shan in Compendium of the Five Lamps (ch. 15, chapter on Tung-shan Mu-ts'ung): "The master ascended the teaching seat and said, 'Han-shan said that "Red dust dances at the bottom of the well. / White waves rise on the mountain peaks. / The stone woman gives birth to a stone child. / Fur on the tortoise grows longer by the day." If you want to know the Bodhi-mind, all you have to do is to behold these sights.'" The lines are included in a Japanese edition of the work published during Hakuin's lifetime. u The Ten Ox-herding Pictures are a series of illustrations, accompanied by verses, showing the Zen student's progress to final enlightenment. The Five Ranks, comprising five modes of the particular and universal, are a teaching device formulated by Tung-shan of the Sto tradition. v Records of the Lamp, ch. 10. w Liu Hsiu (first century) was a descendant of Western Han royalty who defeated the usurper Wang
  Mang and established the Eastern Han dynasty. Emperor Su Tsung (eighth century) regained the throne that his father had occupied before being been driven from power. x Wang Mang (c. 45 BC-23 AD) , a powerful official of the Western Han dynasty, and rebellious
  --
  
   burners lying forgotten in the back of an old mausoleum; and if later they do decide they want to attain the Way, they spend all their time in silent sitting. Such people are dead otters this year, they're dead otters next year, and fifteen years later, with white hair and yellow teeth, bad eyes and failing ears, they're still dead otters. Should one of them later acquire students and the students followed their teacher's instructions obediently, accepting silent sitting as ultimate and devoting themselves to practicing it, then if five of them get together and practiced, you would have five dead otters; if there were eight, you would have eight dead otters. Not only would they never be able to benefit others, but they would never be able to save themselves either. No matter how many years they spent sitting silently like this in weed-infested nooks and corners, they would always remain incapable of breaking out of the dark cavern of their old views" (A Record of Sendai's Comments on the poems of Cold Mountain, ch. 1, 61-62).
  

1.04_-_GOD_IN_THE_WORLD, #The Perennial Philosophy, #Aldous Huxley, #Philosophy
  
  And a little later in the same poem he adds,
  

1.04_-_The_Origin_and_Development_of_Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  Poetry now diverged in two directions, according to the individual character of the writers. The graver spirits imitated noble actions, and the actions of good men. The more trivial sort imitated the actions of meaner persons, at first composing satires, as the former did hymns to the gods and the praises of famous men. A poem of the satirical kind cannot indeed be put down to any author earlier than Homer; though many such writers probably there were. But from Homer onward, instances can be cited,--his own Margites, for example, and other similar compositions. The appropriate metre was also here introduced; hence the measure is still called the iambic or lampooning measure, being that in which people lampooned one another. Thus the older poets were distinguished as writers of heroic or of lampooning verse.
  

1.04_-_The_Paths, #A Garden of Pomegranates - An Outline of the Qabalah, #Israel Regardie, #Occultism
  
  The Greek God is Themis, who, in the Homeric poems, is the personification of abstract law, custom, and equity, whence she is described as reigning in the assemblies of men, and convening the assembly of the Gods on Mount
  Olympus. Its Egyptian God bears out the idea of Justice for she is Maat, the Goddess of Truth, who in the Book of the Dead appears in the judgment scene of the weighing of the heart of the deceased. Nemesis, too, is a correspon- dence, as she measured out to mortals happiness and misery ; and here, too, is the Hindu concept of Yama, the personification of death and Hell where men had to expiate their evil deeds.

1.05_-_CHARITY, #The Perennial Philosophy, #Aldous Huxley, #Philosophy
  
  In other words, the highest form of the love of God is an immediate spiritual intuition, by which knower, known and knowledge are made one. The means to, and earlier stages of, this supreme love-knowledge of Spirit by spirit are described by Shankara in the preceding verses of his philosophical poem, and consist in acts of a will directed towards the denial of selfness in thought, feeling and action, towards desirelessness and non-attachment or (to use the corresponding Christian term) holy indifference, towards a cheerful acceptance of affliction, without self-pity and without thought of returning evil for evil, and finally towards unsleeping and one-pointed mindfulness of the Godhead who is at once transcendent and, because transcendent, immanent in every soul.
  

1.05_-_Definition_of_the_Ludicrous,_and_a_brief_sketch_of_the_rise_of_Comedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  Of their constituent parts some are common to both, some peculiar to Tragedy, whoever, therefore, knows what is good or bad Tragedy, knows also about Epic poetry. All the elements of an Epic poem are found in Tragedy, but the elements of a Tragedy are not all found in the Epic poem.
  

1.05_-_The_Ascent_of_the_Sacrifice_-_The_Psychic_Being, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
     It is natural from the point of view of the Yoga to divide into two categories the activities of the human mind in its pursuit of knowledge. There is the supreme supra-intellectual knowledge which concentrates itself on the discovery of the One and Infinite in its transcendence or tries to penetrate by intuition, contemplation, direct inner contact into the ultimate truths behind the appearances of Nature; there is the lower science which diffuses itself in an outward knowledge of phenomena, the disguises of the One and Infinite as it appears to us in and through the more exterior forms of the world-manifestation around us. These two, an upper and a lower hemisphere, in the form of them constructed or conceived by men within the mind's ignorant limits, have even there separated themselves, as they developed, with some sharpness.... Philosophy, sometimes spiritual or at least intuitive, sometimes abstract and intellectual, sometimes intellectualising spiritual experience or supporting with a logical apparatus the discoveries of the spirit, has claimed always to take the fixation of ultimate Truth as its province. But even when it did not separate itself on rarefied metaphysical heights from the knowledge that belongs to the practical world and the pursuit of ephemeral objects, intellectual Philosophy by its habit of abstraction has seldom been a power for life. It has been sometimes powerful for high speculation, pursuing mental Truth for its own sake without any ulterior utility or object, sometimes for a subtle gymnastic of the mind in a mistily bright cloud-land of words and ideas, but it has walked or acrobatised far from the more tangible realities of existence. Ancient Philosophy in Europe was more dynamic, but only for the few; in India in its more spiritualised forms, it strongly influenced but without transforming the life of the race.... Religion did not attempt, like Philosophy, to live alone on the heights; its aim was rather to take hold of man's parts of life even more than his parts of mind and draw them Godwards; it professed to build a bridge between spiritual Truth and the vital and material existence; it strove to subordinate and reconcile the lower to the higher, make life serviceable to God, Earth obedient to Heaven. It has to be admitted that too often this necessary effort had the opposite result of making Heaven a sanction for Earth's desires; for continually the religious idea has been turned into an excuse for the worship and service of the human ego. Religion, leaving constantly its little shining core of spiritual experience, has lost itself in the obscure mass of its ever extending ambiguous compromises with life: in attempting to satisfy the thinking mind, it more often succeeded in oppressing or fettering it with a mass of theological dogmas; while seeking to net the human heart, it fell itself into pits of pietistic emotionalism and sensationalism; in the act of annexing the vital nature of man to dominate it, it grew itself vitiated and fell a prey to all the fanaticism, homicidal fury, savage or harsh turn for oppression, pullulating falsehood, obstinate attachment to ignorance to which that vital nature is prone; its desire to draw the physical in man towards God betrayed it into chaining itself to ecclesiastic mechanism, hollow ceremony and lifeless ritual. The corruption of the best produced the worst by that strange chemistry of the power of life which generates evil out of good even as it can also generate good out of evil. At the same time in a vain effort at self-defence against this downward gravitation. Religion was driven to cut existence into two by a division of knowledge, works, art, life itself into two opposite categories, the spiritual and the worldly, religious and mundane, sacred and profane; but this' defensive distinction itself became conventional and artificial and aggravated rather than healed the disease.... On the other side. Science and Art and the knowledge of life, although at first they served or lived in the shadow of Religion, ended by emancipating themselves, became estranged or hostile, or have even recoiled with indifference, contempt or scepticism from what seem to them the cold, barren and distant or unsubstantial and illusory heights of unreality to which metaphysical Philosophy and Religion aspire. For a time the divorce has been as complete as the one-sided intolerance of the human mind could make it and threatened even to end in a complete extinction of all attempt at a higher or a more spiritual knowledge. Yet even in the earthward life a higher knowledge is indeed the one thing that is throughout needful, and without it the lower sciences and pursuits, however fruitful, however rich, free, miraculous in the abundance of their results, become easily a sacrifice offered without due order and to false gods; corrupting, hardening in the end the heart of man, limiting his mind's horizons, they confine in a stony material imprisonment or lead to a final baffling incertitude and disillusionment. A sterile agnosticism awaits us above the brilliant phosphorescence of a half-knowledge that is still the Ignorance.
     A Yoga turned towards an all-embracing realisation of the Supreme will not despise the works or even the dreams, if dreams they are, of the Cosmic Spirit or shrink from the splendid toil and many-sided victory which he has assigned to himself In the human creature. But its first condition for this liberality is that our works in the world too must be part of the sacrifice offered to the Highest and to none else, to the Divine shakti and to no other Power, in the right spirit and with the right knowledge, by the free soul and not by the hypnotised bondslave of material Nature. If a division of works has to be made, it is between those that are nearest to the heart of the sacred flame and those that are least touched or illumined by it because they are more at a distance, or between the fuel that burns strongly or brightly and the logs that if too thickly heaped on the altar may impede the ardour of the fire by their damp, heavy and diffused abundance. But otherwise, apart from this division, all activities of knowledge that seek after or express Truth are in themselves rightful materials for a complete offering; none ought necessarily to be excluded from the wide framework of the divine life. The mental and physical sciences which examine into the laws and forms and processes of things, those which concern the life of men and animals, the social, political, linguistic and historical and those which seek to know and control the labours and activities by which man subdues and utilises his world and environment, and the noble and beautiful Arts which are at once work and knowledge, -- for every well-made and significant poem, picture, statue or building is an act of creative knowledge, a living discovery of the consciousness, a figure of Truth, a dynamic form of mental and vital self-expression or world-expressions-all that seeks, all that finds, all that voices or figures is a realisation of something of the play of the Infinite and to that extent can be made a means of God-realisation or of divine formation. But the Yogin has to see that it is no longer done as part of an ignorant mental life; it can be accepted by him only if by the feeling, the remembrance, the dedication within it, it is turned into a movement of the spiritual consciousness and becomes a part of its vast grasp of comprehensive illuminating knowledge.
     For all must be done as a sacrifice, all activities must have the One Divine for their object and the heart of their meaning. The Yogin's aim in the sciences that make for knowledge should be to discover and understand the workings of the Divine Consciousness-Puissance in man and creatures and things and forces, her creative significances, her execution of the mysteries, the symbols in which she arranges the manifestation. The Yogin's aim in the practical sciences, whether mental and physical or occult and psychic, should be to enter into the ways of the Divine and his processes, to know the materials and means for the work given to us so that we may use that knowledge for a conscious and faultless expression of the spirit's mastery, joy and self-fulfilment. The Yogin's aim in the Arts should not be a mere aesthetic, mental or vital gratification, but, seeing the Divine everywhere, worshipping it with a revelation of the meaning of its works, to express that One Divine in gods and men and creatures and objects. The theory that sees an intimate connection between religious aspiration and the truest and greatest Art is in essence right; but we must substitute for the mixed and doubtful religious motive a spiritual aspiration, vision, interpreting experience. For the wider and more comprehensive the seeing, the more it contains in itself the sense of the hidden Divine in humanity and in all things and rises beyond a superficial religiosity into the spiritual life, the more luminous, flexible, deep and powerful will the Art be that springs from the high motive. The Yogin's distinction from other men is this that he lives in a higher and vaster spiritual consciousness; all his work of knowledge or creation must then spring from there: it must not be made in the mind, -- for it is a greater truth and vision than mental man's that he has to express or rather that presses to express itself through him and mould his works, not for his personal satisfaction, but for a divine purpose.

1.05_-_The_Universe_The_0_=_2_Equation, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  
  D. We also tend to think of the Universe as containing things of which we are not aware; but this is altogether unjustifiable, although it is difficult to think at all without making some such assumption. For instance, one may come upon a new branch of knowledge say, histology or Hammurabi or the language of the Iroquois or the poems of the Hermaphrodite of Panormita. It seems to be there all ready waiting for us; we simply cannot believe that we are making it all up as we go along. For all that, it is sheer sophistry; we may merely be unfolding the contents of our own minds. Then again, does a thing cease to exist if we forget it? The answer is that one cannot be sure.
  

1.06_-_The_Four_Powers_of_the_Mother, #The Mother With Letters On The Mother, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  11:And yet it is not easy to meet the demand of this enchanting Power or to keep her presence. Harmony and beauty of the mind and soul, harmony and beauty of the thoughts and feelings, harmony and beauty in every outward act and movement, harmony and beauty of the life and surroundings, this is the demand of Mahalakshmi. Where there is affinity to the rhythms of the secret world-bliss and response to the call of the AllBeautiful and concord and unity and the glad flow of many lives turned towards the Divine, in that atmosphere she consents to abide. But all that is ugly and mean and base, all that is poor and sordid and squalid, all that is brutal and coarse repels her advent. Where love and beauty are not or are reluctant to be born, she does not come; where they are mixed and disfigured with baser things, she turns soon to depart or cares little to pour her riches. If she finds herself in men's hearts surrounded with selfishness and hatred and jealousy and malignance and envy and strife, if treachery and greed and ingratitude are mixed in the sacred chalice, if grossness of passion and unrefined desire degrade devotion, in such hearts the gracious and beautiful Goddess will not linger. A divine disgust seizes upon her and she withdraws, for she is not one who insists or strives; or, veiling her face, she waits for this bitter and poisonous devil's stuff to be rejected and disappear before she will found anew her happy influence. Ascetic bareness and harshness are not pleasing to her nor the suppression of the heart's deeper emotions and the rigid repression of the soul's and the life's parts of beauty. For it is through love and beauty that she lays on men the yoke of the Divine. Life is turned in her supreme creations into a rich work of celestial art and all existence into a poem of sacred delight; the world's riches are brought together and concerted for a supreme order and even the simplest and commonest things are made wonderful by her intuition of unity and the breath of her spirit. Admitted to the heart she lifts wisdom to pinnacles of wonder and reveals to it the mystic secrets of the ecstasy that surpasses all knowledge, meets devotion with the passionate attraction of the Divine, teaches to strength and force the rhythm that keeps the might of their acts harmonious and in measure and casts on perfection the charm that makes it endure for ever.
  

1.06_-_The_Sign_of_the_Fishes, #Aion, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  where the above words, forming the acrostic 'ixOvs, are themselves the acrostic
  for a whole poem, an apocalyptic prophecy of the Sibyls:
  

1.08_-_The_Plot_must_be_a_Unity., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  Unity of plot does not, as some persons think, consist in the Unity of the hero. For infinitely various are the incidents in one man's life which cannot be reduced to unity; and so, too, there are many actions of one man out of which we cannot make one action. Hence, the error, as it appears, of all poets who have composed a Heracleid, a Theseid, or other poems of the kind. They imagine that as Heracles was one man, the story of Heracles must also be a unity. But Homer, as in all else he is of surpassing merit, here too--whether from art or natural genius--seems to have happily discerned the truth. In composing the Odyssey he did not include all the adventures of Odysseus--such as his wound on Parnassus, or his feigned madness at the mustering of the host--incidents between which there was no necessary or probable connection: but he made the
  Odyssey, and likewise the Iliad, to centre round an action that in our sense of the word is one. As therefore, in the other imitative arts, the imitation is one when the object imitated is one, so the plot, being an imitation of an action, must imitate one action and that a whole, the structural union of the parts being such that, if any one of them is displaced or removed, the whole will be disjointed and disturbed. For a thing whose presence or absence makes no visible difference, is not an organic part of the whole.

1.09_-_SKIRMISHES_IN_A_WAY_WITH_THE_AGE, #Twilight of the Idols, #Friedrich Nietzsche, #Philosophy
  
  [6] This is a playful adaptation of Max von Schenkendorfs poem
  "_Freiheit_" The proper line reads: "_Freiheit die ich meine_" (The

1.09_-_The_Ambivalence_of_the_Fish_Symbol, #Aion, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  athan appears only in the singular, the underlying polarity
  comes to light in his opposite number, Behemoth. A poem by
  Meir ben Isaac describes the battle between Leviathan and
  --
  
  6 "Note complementaire sur le poeme de Mot et Alei'n," p. 357.
  

1.10_-_Mantra_Yoga, #Amrita Gita, #Swami Sivananda Saraswati, #Hinduism
  
  6. Repetition of Sarasvati Mantra OM Sarasvatyai Namah will bestow on you wisdom and good intelligence. You will get inspiration and compose poems. Repetition of Om Sri Mahalakshmyai Namah will confer on you wealth and remove poverty. Ganesha Mantra will remove any obstacle in any undertaking. Maha Mrityunjaya Mantra will remove accidents, incurable diseases and bestow long life and immortality. It is a Moksha Mantra too.
  

1.11_-_Oneness, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  
  Collected poems and Plays, 5:311
  Taittiriya Upanishad X.

1.12_-_The_Herds_of_the_Dawn, #The Secret Of The Veda, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Law or Truth! We have to suppose that when the Rishi gives vent to the joyous cry "We have crossed over to the other shore of this darkness!", it was only the normal awakening to the daily sunrise that he thus eagerly hymned. We have to suppose that the Vedic peoples sat down to the sacrifice at dawn and prayed for the light when it had already come. And if we accept all these improbabilities, we are met by the clear statement that it was only after they had sat for nine or for ten months that the lost light and the lost sun were recovered by the Angiras
  Rishis. And what are we to make of the constant assertion of the discovery of the Light by the Fathers; - "Our fathers found out the hidden light, by the truth in their thoughts they brought to birth the Dawn," gud.ham jyotih. pitaro anvavindan, satyamantra ajanayan us.asam (VII.76.4). If we found such a verse in any collection of poems in any literature, we would at once give it a psychological or a spiritual sense; there is no just reason for a different treatment of the Veda.
  

1.12_-_The_Superconscient, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  
  Those who have exceeded, or think they have exceeded, the stage of religious forms will jump to the conclusion that all personal forms are deceptive, or of a lower order, and that only impersonal forces are true, but this is an error of our human logic, which always tries to reduce everything to a uniform concept. The vision of Durga is no more false and imaginary than Shelley's poem or Einstein's equations, which were confirmed ten years later. Error and superstition begin with the assertion that only the Virgin is true, or only Durga, or only poetry. The reconciling truth would be in seeing that all these forms come from the same divine Light, in different degrees.
  
  --
  
  Poetry is the most convenient means of conveying what these higher planes of consciousness are. In a poem's rhythm one can easily perceive vibrations. We will therefore use poetry to convey a sense of what these higher planes are, even though the Superconscient is not the sole privilege of poets. In his vast correspondence on poetry and in his Future Poetry, Sri Aurobindo has given numerous instances of poetry issuing from the illumined mind. It is naturally Shakespeare who would give us the most abundant examples, provided we let go of the external meaning and listen to what vibrates behind the words; for poetry and all the arts are ultimately a means of capturing a tiny ineffable note, a mere nothing, a "nothing" that still constitutes life's very essence: . . . that his virtues
  
  --
  
  A poem is not "illumined" because of its meaning; it is illumined because it embodies the particular note of that plane. We could find the same note in a painting by Rembrandt, a musical composition by Csar Franck, or simply in a friend's words; it is the touch of truth behind, the little vibration that goes straight to our heart, for which the poem, the canvas, or the sonata are only more or less adequate transcriptions. The higher one rises, the purer, more luminous, vast, and powerful is the vibration. When Wordsworth says:
  
  --
  
  If we are religious-minded, perhaps we will see the gods who inhabit this world. Beings, forces, sounds, lights, and rhythms are just so many true forms of the same indefinable, but not unknowable, Essence we call "God"; we have spoken of God, and made temples, laws or poems to try to capture the one little pulsation filling us with sunshine, but it is free as the wind on foam-flecked shores. We may also enter the world of music, which in fact is not different from the others but a special extension of this same, great inexpressible Vibration. If once, only once, even for a few moments in a lifetime, we can hear that Music, that Joy singing above, we will know what Beethoven and Bach heard; we will know what God is because we will have heard God. We will probably not say anything grandiose; we will just know that That exists, whereupon all the suffering in the world will seem redeemed.
  
  At the extreme summit of the overmind, there only remain great waves of multi-hued light, says the Mother, the play of spiritual forces, which later translate sometimes much later into new ideas, social changes, or earthly events, after crossing one by one all the layers of consciousness and suffering a considerable distortion and loss of light in the process. There are some rare and silent sages on this earth who can wield and combine these forces and draw them down onto the earth, the way others combine sounds to write a poem. Perhaps they are the true poets. Their existence is a living mantra precipitating the Real upon earth. This concludes the description of the ascent Sri Aurobindo underwent alone in his cell at Alipore. We have only presented a few human reflections of these higher regions; we have said nothing about their essence, nothing about these worlds as they exist in their glory, independently of our pale translations: one must hear and see that for oneself!
  

1.13_-_Under_the_Auspices_of_the_Gods, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  
  say that these lofty thoughts, these poems and quartets and divine visionary moments are worth far more than all the hours of our life put together, and they are right . . . which is just the point! This in itself is the acknowledgment that life is woefully lacking, that life's very goal is not in life. We need a truth of body and of the earth, not just a truth above our heads. We do not seek recreation but a re-creation.
  Until now, it is as if the individual's progress in evolution has been to discover higher planes of consciousness, and once there, to build his own private nest apart from the rest of creation, an island of light in the midst of economic philistinism: this one with music, that one with poetry, another with mathematics or religion, and yet another on a sailboat or in a monk's cell, as if the sole purpose of life in a body were to escape from both life and the body. Indeed, we need only look at our own life; we are never in it! We are before or after, engrossed in memories or in hopes; but the here-and-now is so miserable and dull . . . we do not even know if it exists, except in those moments that no longer belong to life as such. We cannot blame the churches,

1.14_-_Bibliography, #Aion, #Carl Jung, #Psychology
  
  Virolleaud, Charles. "Note comple^mentaire sur le poeme de Mot
  et Alein," Syria (Paris), XII (1931), 350-57.

1.14_-_The_Secret, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  Savitri, 28:91
  Last poems, 5:150
  Savitri, 28:42

1.16_-_Man,_A_Transitional_Being, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  He summed up the role of the mind in the evolutionary process as follows: Mind is a clumsy interlude between Nature's vast and precise subconscient action and the vaster infallible superconscient action of the Godhead. There is nothing mind can do that cannot be better done in the mind's immobility and thought-free stillness.309
  At the end of six years, in 1920, Sri Aurobindo felt he had said enough, for the time being, and the Arya drew to a close. The rest of his written work would be comprised almost entirely of letters to his disciples thousands upon thousands of them, containing all kinds of practical indications about yogic experiences, difficulties, and progress. But most importantly, over a period of thirty years, he would write and rewrite his extraordinary 28,813-line epic poem, Savitri, like a fifth Veda his message, in which he describes the experiences of the higher and lower worlds, his own battles in the Subconscient and Inconscient, the whole occult history of evolution on the earth and in the universe, and his vision of the future:
  Interpreting the universe by soul signs He read from within the text of the without.310

1.17_-_The_Seven-Headed_Thought,_Swar_and_the_Dashagwas, #The Secret Of The Veda, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  Only the theory we are enouncing, a theory not brought in from outside but arising straight from the language and the suggestions of the hymns themselves, can unite this varied imagery and bring an easy lucidity and coherence into this apparent tangle of incongruities. In fact, once the central idea is grasped and the mentality of the Vedic Rishis and the principle of their symbolism are understood, no incongruity and no disorder remain. There is a fixed system of symbols which, except in some of the later hymns, does not admit of any important variations and in the light of which the inner sense of the Veda everywhere yields itself up readily enough. There is indeed a certain restricted freedom in the combination of the symbols, as in those of any fixed poetical imagery, - for instance, the sacred poems of the Vaishnavas; but the substance of thought behind is constant, coherent and does not vary.
  

1.17_-_The_Transformation, #Sri Aurobindo or the Adventure of Consciousness, #Satprem, #Integral Yoga
  life: sixty percent of our lifetime is spent acquiring means and another thirty percent sleeping. What is absurd here, says the Mother, is all the artificial devices we must use. Any idiot has more power provided he has the means of acquiring the necessary devices. But in a true world, a supramental world, the more conscious and in harmony with the truth of things you are, the more your will has authority over substance; substance responds to the will. There, authority is a true authority. If you want a dress, you must have the power to make it, a true power. If you don't have that power, well, you go naked! There is no artifice to substitute for the lack of power. While here, not once in a million times is authority the expression of something true.
  Everything is colossally stupid. This supramental "authority" is not some kind of supermagic, far from it; it is an extremely precise process, as precise and exact as a chemistry experiment, except that instead of dealing with external objects, the supramental being acts upon the true vibration in the core of each thing and combines it with other vibrations in order to achieve a particular result, like a painter mixing colors for a picture or a poet combining sounds for a poem. He is truly a poet, for he creates what he names. The true name of an object is the vibration constituting it; to name an object is to have the power to evoke it or to destroy it.
  The spontaneous and natural quality of supramental life for ultimately only Truth is natural will be expressed also in a supramental art, which will be a direct and exact representation of our particular spiritual tonality; an art in which cheating will have become impossible because only our inner light will be able to touch and play upon the same lights involved in Matter and mold from it the corresponding forms. If our vibration is gray, our creation will be similarly gray, and everything we touch will be gray. Our physical,
  --
  
  poems Past and Present, 6
  Savitri, 29:700
  --
  Savitri, 28:343
  Collected poems and Plays, I, 5:61
  
  --
  Sri Aurobindo: Letters, 3rd series (1949)
  Sri Aurobindo: poems Past and Present (1952)
  Sri Aurobindo: The Human Cycle (1949)
  --
  The Future Poetry, 'Arya' Dec. 1917-July 1920 1st ed. 1953
  Collected poems and Plays, 2 volumes 1st ed. 1942
  poems Past and Present 1st ed. 1946
  poems from Bengali, 1893-1905 (translation) 1st ed. 1956
  Savitri 1st ed. 1950
  Last poems, 1937-1944 1st ed. 1952
  More poems 1st ed. 1957
  
  --
  Urvasie, 1893-1896 1st ed. 1896
  Ahana and Other poems, 1895-1915 1st ed. 1915
  Love and Death, 1899 1st ed. 1921

1.18_-_Further_rules_for_the_Tragic_Poet., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  Again, the poet should remember what has been often said, and not make an Epic structure into a Tragedy--by an Epic structure I mean one with a multiplicity of plots--as if, for instance, you were to make a tragedy out of the entire story of the Iliad. In the Epic poem, owing to its length, each part assumes its proper magnitude. In the drama the result is far from answering to the poet's expectation. The proof is that the poets who have dramatised the whole story of the Fall of Troy, instead of selecting portions, like Euripides; or who have taken the whole tale of Niobe, and not a part of her story, like Aeschylus, either fail utterly or meet with poor success on the stage. Even Agathon has been known to fail from this one defect. In his Reversals of the Situation, however, he shows a marvellous skill in the effort to hit the popular taste,--to produce a tragic effect that satisfies the moral sense. This effect is produced when the clever rogue, like Sisyphus, is outwitted, or the brave villain defeated. Such an event is probable in Agathon's sense of the word: 'it is probable,' he says, 'that many things should happen contrary to probability.'
  

1.20_-_Talismans_-_The_Lamen_-_The_Pantacle, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  
  Most of my Talismans, like my Invocations, have been poems.[34] This letter must be like the Iliad in at least one respect: it does not end; it stops.
  

1.23_-_Epic_Poetry., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  As to that poetic imitation which is narrative in form and employs a single metre, the plot manifestly ought, as in a tragedy, to be constructed on dramatic principles. It should have for its subject a single action, whole and complete, with a beginning, a middle, and an end. It will thus resemble a living organism in all its unity, and produce the pleasure proper to it. It will differ in structure from historical compositions, which of necessity present not a single action, but a single period, and all that happened within that period to one person or to many, little connected together as the events may be. For as the sea-fight at Salamis and the battle with the Carthaginians in
  Sicily took place at the same time, but did not tend to any one result, so in the sequence of events, one thing sometimes follows another, and yet no single result is thereby produced. Such is the practice, we may say, of most poets. Here again, then, as has been already observed, the transcendent excellence of Homer is manifest. He never attempts to make the whole war of Troy the subject of his poem, though that war had a beginning and an end. It would have been too vast a theme, and not easily embraced in a single view. If, again, he had kept it within moderate limits, it must have been over-complicated by the variety of the incidents. As it is, he detaches a single portion, and admits as episodes many events from the general story of the war--such as the
  Catalogue of the ships and others--thus diversifying the poem. All other poets take a single hero, a single period, or an action single indeed, but with a multiplicity of parts. Thus did the author of the Cypria and of the Little Iliad. For this reason the Iliad and the Odyssey each furnish the subject of one tragedy, or, at most, of two; while the
  Cypria supplies materials for many, and the Little Iliad for eight--the

1.240_-_Talks_2, #unset, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  While speaking of the Brain and the Heart Sri Bhagavan recalled an incident of old days as follows:Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni once argued that the brain was the most important centre and Sri Bhagavan maintained that the Heart was even more so. There were others watching the discourse. A few days after
  Sri Bhagavan received a letter containing a short poem in English on that discourse from a young boy, N. S. Arunachalam, who had not yet matriculated.
  
  That poem is remarkable for its poetic imagination. Sri Bhagavan,
  Kavyakantha, and the assemblage of other persons are represented as the Heart, the brain and the body respectively, and again as the sun, the moon and the earth also. The light from the sun is reflected on the moon and the earth is illumined. Similarly the brain acts by consciousness derived from the Heart and the body is thus protected.
  --
  Talk 414.
  Mr. G. V. Subbaramiah, a devotee, has written some short poems, which are interesting. Some of them refer to a child. Sri Bhagavan said
  God becomes a child, and vice versa. That means that the samskaras are yet latent in the child and thus its innocence is complete. When they are eradicated even a grown up man becomes a child once again, and thus remains God.

1.24_-_(Epic_Poetry_continued.)_Further_points_of_agreement_with_Tragedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  Moreover, the thoughts and the diction must be artistic. In all these respects Homer is our earliest and sufficient model. Indeed each of his poems has a twofold character. The Iliad is at once simple and 'pathetic,' and the Odyssey complex (for Recognition scenes run through it), and at the same time 'ethical.' Moreover, in diction and thought they are supreme.
  
  Epic poetry differs from Tragedy in the scale on which it is constructed, and in its metre. As regards scale or length, we have already laid down an adequate limit:--the beginning and the end must be capable of being brought within a single view. This condition will be satisfied by poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering in length to the group of tragedies presented at a single sitting.
  
  Epic poetry has, however, a great--a special--capacity for enlarging its dimensions, and we can see the reason. In Tragedy we cannot imitate several lines of actions carried on at one and the same time; we must confine ourselves to the action on the stage and the part taken by the players. But in Epic poetry, owing to the narrative form, many events simultaneously transacted can be presented; and these, if relevant to the subject, add mass and dignity to the poem. The Epic has here an advantage, and one that conduces to grandeur of effect, to diverting the mind of the hearer, and relieving the story with varying episodes. For sameness of incident soon produces satiety, and makes tragedies fail on the stage.
  
  As for the metre, the heroic measure has proved its fitness by the test of experience. If a narrative poem in any other metre or in many metres were now composed, it would be found incongruous. For of all measures the heroic is the stateliest and the most massive; and hence it most readily admits rare words and metaphors, which is another point in which the narrative form of imitation stands alone. On the other hand, the iambic and the trochaic tetrameter are stirring measures, the latter being akin to dancing, the former expressive of action. Still more absurd would it be to mix together different metres, as was done by Chaeremon. Hence no one has ever composed a poem on a great scale in any other than heroic verse. Nature herself, as we have said, teaches the choice of the proper measure.
  
  --
  
  The element of the wonderful is required in Tragedy. The irrational, on which the wonderful depends for its chief effects, has wider scope in Epic poetry, because there the person acting is not seen. Thus, the pursuit of Hector would be ludicrous if placed upon the stage--the Greeks standing still and not joining in the pursuit, and Achilles waving them back. But in the Epic poem the absurdity passes unnoticed.
  

1.24_-_RITUAL,_SYMBOL,_SACRAMENT, #The Perennial Philosophy, #Aldous Huxley, #Philosophy
  
  It is hardly necessary to add that this process of conscious sacramentalization can be applied only to such actions as are not intrinsically evil. Somewhat unfortunately, the Gita was not originally published as an independent work, but as a theological digression within an epic poem; and since, like most epics, the Mahabharata is largely concerned with the exploits of warriors, it is primarily in relation to warfare that the Gitas advice to act with non-attachment and for Gods sake only is given. Now, war is accompanied and followed, among other things, by a widespread dissemination of anger and hatred, pride, cruelty and fear. But, it may be asked, is it possible (the Nature of Things being what it is) to sacramentalize actions, whose psychological by-products are so completely God-eclipsing as are these passions? The Buddha of the Pali scriptures would certainly have answered this question in the negative. So would the Lao Tzu of the Tao Teh King. So would the Christ of the Synoptic Gospels. The Krishna of the Gita (who is also, by a kind of literary accident, the Krishna of the Mahabharata) gives an affirmative answer. But this affirmative answer, it should be remembered, is hedged around with limiting conditions. Non-attached slaughter is recommended only to those, who are warriors by caste, and to whom warfare is a duty and vocation. But what is duty or dharma for the Kshatriya is adharma and forbidden to the Brahman; nor is it any part of the normal vocation or caste duty of the mercantile and labouring classes. Any confusion of castes, any assumption by one man of another mans vocation and duties of state, is always, say the Hindus, a moral evil and a menace to social stability. Thus, it is the business of the Brahmans to fit themselves to be seers, so that they may be able to explain to their fellow men the nature of the universe, of mans last end and of the way to liberation. When solthers or administrators, or usurers, or manufacturers or workers usurp the functions of the Brahmans and formulate a philosophy of life in accordance with their variously distorted notions of the universe, then society is thrown into confusion. Similarly, confusion reigns when the Brahman, the man of non-coercive spiritual authority, assumes the coercive power of the Kshatriya, or when the Kshatriyas job of ruling is usurped by bankers and stock jobbers, or finally when the warrior castes dharma of fighting is imposed, by conscription, on Brahman, Vaisya and Sudra alike. The history of Europe during the later Middle Ages and Renaissance is largely a history of the social confusions that arises when large numbers of those who should be seers abandon spiritual authority in favour of money and political power. And contemporary history is the hideous record of what happens when political bosses, businessmen or class-conscious proletarians assume the Brahmans function of formulating a philosophy of life; when usurers dictate policy and debate the issues of war and peace; and when the warriors caste duty is imposed on all and sundry, regardless of psycho-physical make-up and vocation.
  

1.25_-_Critical_Objections_brought_against_Poetry,_and_the_principles_on_which_they_are_to_be_answered., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  
  First as to matters which concern the poet's own art. If he describes the impossible, he is guilty of an error; but the error may be justified, if the end of the art be thereby attained (the end being that already mentioned), if, that is, the effect of this or any other part of the poem is thus rendered more striking. A case in point is the pursuit of Hector. If, however, the end might have been as well, or better, attained without violating the special rules of the poetic art, the error is not justified: for every kind of error should, if possible, be avoided.
  

1.26_-_A_general_estimate_of_the_comparative_worth_of_Epic_Poetry_and_Tragedy., #Poetics, #Aristotle, #Christianity
  Oedipus of Sophocles, if it were cast into a form as long as the Iliad?
  Once more, the Epic imitation has less unity; as is shown by this, that any Epic poem will furnish subjects for several tragedies. Thus if the story adopted by the poet has a strict unity, it must either be concisely told and appear truncated; or, if it conform to the Epic canon of length, it must seem weak and watery. if, I mean, the poem is constructed out of several actions, like the Iliad and the Odyssey, which have many such parts, each with a certain magnitude of its own. Yet these poems are as perfect as possible in structure; each is, in the highest degree attainable, an imitation of a single action.
  
  --
  
  Thus much may suffice concerning Tragic and Epic poetry in general; their several kinds and parts, with the number of each and their differences; the causes that make a poem good or bad; the objections of the critics and the answers to these objections.
  

1.3.2.01_-_I._The_Entire_Purpose_of_Yoga, #Essays Divine And Human, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The lower hemisphere in this arrangement of consciousness consists of the three vyahritis of the Veda, "Bhur, Bhuvah,
  Swar"; they are states of consciousness in which the principles of the upper world are expressed or try to express themselves under different conditions. Pure in their own homes, they are in this foreign country subject to perverse, impure & disturbing combinations & workings. The ultimate object of life is to get rid of the perversity, impurity & disturbance & express them perfectly in these other conditions. Your life on this earth is a divine poem that you are translating into earthly language or a strain of music which you are rendering into words.
  

1.400_-_1.450_Talks, #Talks, #Sri Ramana Maharshi, #Hinduism
  While speaking of the Brain and the Heart Sri Bhagavan recalled an incident of old days as follows:Kavyakantha Ganapati Muni once argued that the brain was the most important centre and Sri Bhagavan maintained that the Heart was even more so. There were others watching the discourse. A few days after
  Sri Bhagavan received a letter containing a short poem in English on that discourse from a young boy, N. S. Arunachalam, who had not yet matriculated.
  
  --
  Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi
  That poem is remarkable for its poetic imagination. Sri Bhagavan,
  Kavyakantha, and the assemblage of other persons are represented as the Heart, the brain and the body respectively, and again as the sun, the moon and the earth also. The light from the sun is reflected on the moon and the earth is illumined. Similarly the brain acts by consciousness derived from the Heart and the body is thus protected.
  --
  
  Mr. G. V. Subbaramiah, a devotee, has written some short poems, which are interesting. Some of them refer to a child. Sri Bhagavan said
  God becomes a child, and vice versa. That means that the samskaras are yet latent in the child and thus its innocence is complete. When they are eradicated even a grown up man becomes a child once again, and thus remains God.

1.4.02_-_The_Divine_Force, #Letters On Yoga II, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  So your argument is utterly absurd and futile. Our aim is to bring the secret forces out and unwalled into the open so that instead of getting some shadows or lightnings of themselves out through the veil or being wholly obstructed, they may "pour down" and "flow in a river". But to expect that all at once is a presumptuous demand which shows an impatient ignorance and inexperience. If they begin to trickle at first, that is sufficient to justify the faith in a future downpour. You admit that you once or twice felt "a force coming down and delivering a poem out of me" (your opinion about its worth or worthlessness is not
  

1.439, #Talks, #Sri Ramana Maharshi, #Hinduism
  Pillai, who is such a good man, such an ardent devotee and a
  longstanding disciple, has written a poem saying that Sri Bhagavans
  instructions could not be carried out by him effectively in practice.

1.44_-_Serious_Style_of_A.C.,_or_the_Apparent_Frivolity_of_Some_of_my_Remarks, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
    He stalked the tiger, bear and elephant.
    He wrote a stack of poems, some sublime,
    Some not. Tales, essays, pictures, plays my aunt!

1.51_-_How_to_Recognise_Masters,_Angels,_etc.,_and_how_they_Work, #Magick Without Tears, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  
    Kindly read over the entry of January 12 with care exceeding. Now then: On Friday, January 30, I went to Paris, to buy pencils, Mandarin, a palette, Napoleon Brandy, canvases and other appurtenances of the artist's dismal trade. I took occasion to call upon an old mistress of mine, Jane Chron, concerning who see Equinox Vol. I, "Three poems." She has never had the slightest interest in occult matters, and she has never done any work in her life, even of the needlework order. I had seen her once before since my escape from America, and she said she had something to show me, but I took no particular notice, and she did not insist. My object in calling on this second occasion was multiple: I wanted to see the man with whom she is living, who has not yet returned from Russia; I wanted to make love to her; and wanted to smoke a few pipes of opium with her, she being a devotee of that great and terrible God.
  

2.00_-_BIBLIOGRAPHY, #The Perennial Philosophy, #Aldous Huxley, #Philosophy
  
  TAGORE, RABINDRANATH. One Hundred poems of Kabir (London, 1915).
  

2.02_-_Meeting_With_the_Goddess, #The Hero with a Thousand Faces, #Joseph Campbell, #Mythology
  Canterbury Tales, "The Tale of the Wyf of Bathe"; in Gower's Tale of Florent;
  in the mid-fifteenth-century poem, The Weddynge of Sir Gawen and Dame
  Ragnell; and in the seventeenth-century ballad, The Marriage of Sir Gawaine.

2.02_-_The_Ishavasyopanishad_with_a_commentary_in_English, #Isha Upanishad, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  companion or an exciting play or a clever speaker or a good
  poem or an illuminative and well-reasoned argument there is
  my liking for somebody which has no justification or apparent

2.02_-_The_Status_of_Knowledge, #The Synthesis Of Yoga, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  It is difficult for the modern mind to understand how we can do more than conceive intellectually of the Self or of God; but it may borrow some shadow of this vision, experience and becoming from that inner awakening to Nature which a great English poet has made a reality to the European imagination. If we read the poems in which Wordsworth expressed his realisation of Nature, we may acquire some distant idea of what realisation is. For, first, we see that he had the vision of something in the world which is the very Self of all things that it contains, a conscious force and presence other than its forms, yet cause of its forms and manifested in them. We perceive that he had not only the vision of this and the joy and peace and universality which its presence brings, but the very sense of it, mental, aesthetic, vital, physical; not only this sense and vision of it in its own being but in the nearest flower and simplest man and the immobile rock; and, finally, that he even occasionally attained to that unity, that becoming the object of his dedication, one phase of which is powerfully and profoundly expressed in the poem "A slumber did my spirit seal," where he describes himself as become one in his being with earth, "rolled round in its diurnal course with rocks and stones and trees." Exalt this realisation to a profounder Self than physical Nature and we have the elements of the Yogic knowledge. But all this experience is only the vestibule to that suprasensuous, supramental realisation of the Transcendent who is beyond all His aspects, and the final summit of knowledge can only be attained by entering into the superconscient and there merging all other experience into a supernal unity with the Ineffable. That is the culmination of all divine knowing; that also is the source of all divine delight and divine living.
  

2.09_-_ADVICE_TO_THE_BRAHMOS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  
  "Mere reading of the scriptures is not enough. A person cannot understand the true significance of the scriptures if he is attached to the world. Though with intense delight I learnt many poems and dramas, I have forgotten them all, entrapped in Krishna's love.
  

2.1.02_-_Love_and_Death, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  A NOTE ON LOVE AND DEATH
  The story of Ruru and Pramadvura - I have substituted a name more manageable to the English tongue - her death in the forest by the snake and restoration at the price of half her husband's life is told in the Mahabharata. It is a companion legend to the story of Savitri but not being told with any poetic skill or beauty has remained generally unknown. I have attempted in this poem to bring it out of its obscurity. For full success, however, it should have had a more faithfully Hindu colouring, but it was written a score of years ago when I had not penetrated to the heart of the Indian idea and its traditions, and the shadow of the Greek underworld and Tartarus with the sentiment of life and love and death which hangs about them has got into the legendary framework of the Indian Patala and hells. The central idea of the narrative alone is in the Mahabharata; the meeting with
  Kama and the descent into Hell were additions necessitated by the poverty of incident in the original story.

2.1.03_-_Man_and_Superman, #Essays Divine And Human, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  54
  Our existence in the cosmic order is not an accident, the purposeless freak of a Chance which happened to organise itself into a world or the product of a blind Force which has somehow managed to exist in what we call a void Space and executes there [?soulless] inexplicable revolutions, as if compelled by its own causeless necessity; nor is man the result of a chemical combination of gases by an Energy which has somehow, being radically inconscient, succeeded without intending it to produce consciousness and started writing poems, painting pictures, producing civilisations, conceiving an inexistent God and invisible
  Creator. There is surely more in it than that; there was [an] Idea somewhere [and if it] has emerged it is because it was [ . . . ] and had to emerge.

2.11_-_The_Boundaries_of_the_Ignorance, #The Life Divine, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  583
   self and throws up this apparent surface self to act out the brief and limited part assigned to it between birth and death as a present living and conscious self-formation of the being in the stuff of a world of inconscient Nature. The true being which we are no more dies by the cessation of one life than the actor ceases to exist when he has finished one of his parts or the poet when he has poured out something of himself in one of his poems; our mortal personality is only such a role or such a creative self-expression. Whether or no we accept the theory of many births of the same soul or psychic being in various human bodies upon this earth, certain it is that our becoming in Time goes far back into the past and continues far on into the future.
  For neither the superconscient nor the subliminal can be limited by a few moments of Time: the one is eternal and Time is only one of its modes; to the other, to the subliminal, it is an infinite field of various experience and the very existence of the being presupposes all the past for its own and equally all the future.

2.14_-_The_Unpacking_of_God, #Sex Ecology Spirituality, #Ken Wilber, #Philosophy
  The second failure: although profound intuitions and insights into the genuinely transpersonal domains were clearly some of the major, I would say the major, driving forces behind the Idealist movement, these intuitions and insights were expressed almost totally in and through vision-logic, and this burdened Reason with a task it could never carry.8 Particularly with Hegel, the transpersonal and transrational Spirit becomes wholly identified with vision-logic or mature Reason, which condemns Reason to collapsing under a weight it could never carry.
  In 1796, Hegel wrote a poem for Holderlin, which says in part: "For thought cannot grasp the soul which forgetting itself plunges out of space and time into a presentiment of infinity, and now reawakens. Whoever wanted to speak of this to others, though he spoke with the tongues of angels, would feel the poverty of words."
  Would that Hegel had remained in poverty (with Plato: "No treatise by me concerning it exists or ever will exist").

2.20_-_2.29_-_RULES_FOR_HOUSEHOLDERS_AND_MONKS, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  
  Proceeding to explain the verse he said: "The study of philosophy is indeed edifying, but poetry is more fascinating than philosophy. People listening to good poems think of the study of philosophy-Vednta, Nyaya, Samkhya, and so forth as dry and insipid. Again, music is more attractive than poetry. Music melts even a heart of stone. But a beautiful woman has an even greater attraction for a man's heart than music. Such a woman, passing by, diverts a man's attention from both poetry and music. But when a man feels the pangs of hunger, everything else poetry, music and woman appears as of no consequence. Thus, hunger is the most arresting thing."
  

2.3.01_-_Concentration_and_Meditation, #Letters On Yoga II, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  Then as to concentration. Ordinarily the consciousness is spread out everywhere, dispersed, running in this or that direction, after this subject and that object in multitude. When anything has to be done of a sustained nature, the first thing one does is to draw back all this dispersed consciousness and concentrate. It is then, if one looks closely, found to be concentrated in one place and on one occupation, subject or object - as when you are composing a poem or a botanist is studying a flower.
  

2.3.03_-_The_Mother's_Presence, #The Mother With Letters On The Mother, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Feeling the Mother's Presence in Sleep
  Is what X writes in his poem possible? He says:
  "Even in sleep-depths I am wide awake

2.3.05_-_Sadhana_through_Work_for_the_Mother, #The Mother With Letters On The Mother, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  *
  The little experience I have of sadhana through works makes me incline to the view that work as sadhana is the most difficult of all. I don't remember any experience got through it nor can I remember that I am doing the Mother's work; whereas in poetry, though I may be unlucky as regards experiences, when one writes a poem one does try to think of her, at least mentally. I can even say that it is only by thinking of her that
  I can compose the lines.

2.3.07_-_The_Vital_Being_and_Vital_Consciousness, #Letters On Yoga I, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  All the non-evolutionary worlds are worlds of a type limited to its own harmony like the Life Heavens. The Earth on the other hand is an evolutionary world, not at all glorious or harmonious even as a material world (except in certain appearances), but rather most sorrowful, disharmonious, imperfect. Yet in that imperfection is the urge towards a higher and more many-sided perfection. It contains the last finite which yet yearns to the supreme infinite (it is not to be satisfied by sense-joys precisely because in the conditions of earth it is able to see their limitations). God is pent in the mire (mire is not glorious, so there is no claim to glory or beauty here) but that very fact imposes a necessity to break through that prison to a consciousness which is ever rising towards the heights. And so on. That is "a deeper power", not a greater actual glory or perfection. All that may be true or not to the mind, but it is the traditional attitude of Indian spiritual experience. Ask any Yogin, he will tell you that the Life
  Heavens are childish things; even the gods, says the Purana, must come down to earth and be embodied there if they want mukti, giving up the pride of their limited perfection - they must enter into the last finite if they want to reach the last infinite. A poem is not a philosophical treatise or a profession of religious faith
  - it is the expression of a vision or an experience of some kind,
  2 A poem by Sri Aurobindo. See Collected poems, volume 2 of THE COMPLETE
  WORKS OF SRI AUROBINDO, p. 549. - Ed.
  --
  199
   mundane or spiritual. Here it is the vision of the Life Heavens, its perfection, its limitations and the counterclaim of the Earth or rather the Spirit or Power behind the earth consciousness. It has to be taken at that, as an expression of a certain aspect of things, an expression of a certain kind of experience, not of a mental dogma. There is a deep truth behind it, though it may not be the whole truth of the matter. In the poem, also, there is no question of a Divine Life here, though that is hinted at as the unexpressed possible result of the ascent - because the
  Earth is not put aside ("Earth's heart was felt beating below me still"); nevertheless the poem expresses only the ascent towards the Highest, far beyond the Life Heavens, and the Earth-Spirit claims that power and does not speak of any descent of a Divine
  Life. I say so much in order to get rid of that misconception so as not to have to go back to it when dealing with Earth's disharmonies.

2.3.08_-_I_have_a_hundred_lives, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  author class:Sri Aurobindo
  class:poem
  
  --
  
  ~ Sri Aurobindo, Collected poems, 180
  

2.40_-_2.49_-_THE_MASTER_AT_THE_HOUSES_OF_BALARM_AND_GIRISH, #The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna, #Sri Ramakrishna, #Hinduism
  
  This universe with all its manifold and blessed modes Is but the enchanting poem of Thine inexhaustible thought; Its beauty overflows on every side.
  

3.01_-_Towards_the_Future, #On Education, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  POET (absent-mindedly)
  Yes, thank you. (He puts his hat down on a chair.) I have found an ending for my poem. It came while I was walking. A little activity in the open air really does help the inspiration. Yes, I think this will be good: I end with a song of triumph, a hymn of victory in praise of the evolved man who has discovered, together with the consciousness of his origin, the knowledge of all that he is capable of doing and the power to realise it. I describe him advancing in the happy
  455

3.04_-_The_Formula_of_ALHIM, #Liber ABA, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  taken as indicating the formula. Aleph may be referred to Harpocrates, with
  allusion to the well-known poem of Catullus. Lamed may imply the exaltation of
  Saturn, and suggest the Three of Swords in a particular manner. Yod will then
  --
  fulfil their essential Natures. Its abuse is an abomination.
  [The literal meaning of Yesod is foundation or fundament. The poem of Catullus
  alluded to is probably number LXXIV in the standard edition, which Crowley refers

3.1.01_-_Invitation, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from
  Ahana and Other poems
  

3.1.02_-_Who, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.03_-_Miracles, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.04_-_Reminiscence, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.05_-_A_Vision_of_Science, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.06_-_Immortal_Love, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.07_-_A_Tree, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.08_-_To_the_Sea, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.09_-_Revelation, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.10_-_Karma, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  Then shalt thou know the bitterness of love.
  (From an old Bengali poem)

3.1.11_-_Appeal, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  The golden cordage of our youth and pride.
  (Suggested by an old Bengali poem)

3.1.12_-_A_Child.s_Imagination, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.13_-_The_Sea_at_Night, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.14_-_Vedantin.s_Prayer, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.15_-_Rebirth, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.16_-_The_Triumph-Song_of_Trishuncou, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.17_-_Life_and_Death, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.18_-_Evening, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga

3.1.19_-_Parabrahman, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  Are divine moments. They are thoughts that form,

3.1.20_-_God, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  

3.1.23_-_The_Rishi, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  MANU
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  Has it then
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  RISHI
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  MANU
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  He dwells within us all who dwells not in
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  The light we see in fancy, yonder gleams
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  Thought upon mighty thought with grandiose strain
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  By creatures full of joy and radiant ease.
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  RISHI

3.1.24_-_In_the_Moonlight, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  Why should we cabin in such infinite scope,
  --
  
  poems from Ahana and Other poems
  This was the secret Science could not see;

3.14_-_Of_the_Consecrations, #Liber ABA, #Aleister Crowley, #Philosophy
  enumerate the principal gambits: the Bouquet, the Chocolates, the
  Little Dinner, the Cheque-Book, the poem, the Motor by Moonlight,
  the Marriage Certificate, the Whip, and the Feigned Flight.

3.2.03_-_To_the_Ganges, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Manuscripts
  
  --
  
  poems from Manuscripts
  

3.2.04_-_Suddenly_out_from_the_wonderful_East, #Collected Poems, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  
  poems from Manuscripts
  

3_-_Commentaries_and_Annotated_Translations, #Hymns to the Mystic Fire, #Sri Aurobindo, #Integral Yoga
  kEv. Root k; modified before a vowel with the nominal suffix i. This root is only found in later Sanscrit in the modified
  form kv^, to praise or describe, to compose a poem, to paint
  a picture. The k^ roots are among those of the widest scope in
  --
  klw, kloc or knowledge gained by 2;Et. We must take it in
  the latter significance when it is applied in a poem where all
  the words and circumstances are designed to show the principal
  --
  to the gods; he prays that as a result the power of divine speech
  by which men chant the Vedic knowledge in these inspired poems
  may grow in him; for it is so that men have always prevailed

4.04_-_Weaknesses, #Words Of The Mother II, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
  *
  My dear child, I hope your poem is only a poem and that you are not truly suffering from depression. Indeed, depression is the worst of all illnesses and we must reject it with as much energy as we use to get rid of a disease.
  

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