By Sri Chinmoy
There was a time when I loved
The fantastic fabrics of the mind.
There was a time
When I lived my life
Based…
The fantastic fabrics of the mind.
There was a time
When I lived my life
Based…
Explore Poems: Religion
Showing 1-20 of 2,016 poems
- By Shereen AkhtarIn our first house-let in London, she drew on the tablecloth to create
a calligraphic feast. Our friends… - By Zach CzaiaI'm sorry it wasn't till the end of the year
that I asked you to write about yourselves. You filled pages… - By Colby Cedar SmithI loved a preacher’s son.
Hide and seek
in labyrinthine basements
red roses and kissing.
A deep wooden… - By Chris WatkinsI was riding toward Damascus
to yell at some Christians and maybe
stone a few uninhibited women
when… - By Charles ReznikoffIn a world where each man must be of use
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light… - By Charles ReznikoffThe Jewess, Hadassah, takes the name of the moon-goddess, Esther;
her kinsman, Mordecai, whatever his… - By Charles ReznikoffThis was a season of our fathers' joy:
not only when they gathered grapes and the fruit of trees
in Israel… - By Kemi AlabiI used to pray to a man-faced god.
Kept his whip beneath my bed.
Set alarms for daybreak lashings.
Pressed white cotton to the flay.
Made flags of the bloodsoak.
Raised them from my window.
Called this worship.
Dreamt heaven a jury small as a county
where nobody... - By William Butler YeatsI
My Soul. I summon to the winding ancient stair;
Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,
Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,
Upon the breathless starlit air,
Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
Fix every wandering thought upon
That quarter where all thought is... - By William Butler YeatsI
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees,
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music... - By William Butler Yeats'Because I am mad about women
I am mad about the hills,'
Said that wild old wicked man
Who travels where God wills.
'Not to die on the straw at home,
Those hands to close the eyes,
That is all I ask, my dear,
From the old... - By Chana BlochOn the holiest day we fast till sundown.
I watch the sun stand still
as the horizon edges toward it. Four… - By Petr HruškaTranslated By Jonathan BoltonTwo days of rain. Children on the floor. Scant trees.
The furniture confesses to the boards. Reaching… - By William Butler YeatsMidnight has come and the great Christ Church bellAnd many a lesser bell sound through the room;And …
- By Christian J. CollierBetween us, there are one hundred one
umber haints in our home.
In bed, we discuss
our future, our children… - By Christian J. CollierI used to think
there was only one of You
before the miscarriage.
Now, I am not so sure.
Maybe there are… - By Sri ChinmoyUltimately everything
Becomes boring.
Even great miracles
Become boring.
Even the tremendous powers of… - By Thomas TraherneI saw new Worlds beneath the Water ly,
New Peeple; yea, another Sky
And Sun, which seen by Day
Might things… - By Carlie HoffmanLight sheds its skin in the poplars,
Earth’s soldiers wielding the dark, bats emerging
like machinery…