The Effulgence Within

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Thursday, October 29, 2009

Is old age pitiably beggarly?

“Be with me, Beauty, for the fire is dying; My dog and I are old, too old for roving. Man, whose young passion sets the spindrift flying, Is soon too lame to march, too cold for loving.” The above are the opening lines of John Masefield’s poem On Growing Old, wherein is contrasted the natural gifts... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The Truth-Lie Sonnet

Let's have fun today. I converted an Aesop story into a fun sonnet with three quatrains and a couplet, rhyming abab, ccdd, effe, gg. Hope you enjoy. Since you all know my poetic credentials, any correction, suggestion, condemnation, or commendation, is welcome. Once upon a time came two lost... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The never ever repayable debt

The Poet Laureate from Herefordshire County in western England, John Masefield lost his mother at six years of age who died while giving birth to his sister. This heartrending experience at an impressionable age left an indelible mark of sorrow on his soul which he found almost impossible to... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Experience, our first teacher

I am passionately in love with that indefinable word, 'ineffable'. For it says more than what words can say. Whenever anything happens deep inside our hearts overwhelming us to silence, words divorce us to a state of speechlessness. And it is good that it does. A flood of tears, a warm hug or a kiss... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

The second part of "CLOUDS"

Szymborska the poet, continues... Next to clouds even a stone seems like a brother, someone you can trust, while they are just distant, flighty cousins. Let people exist if they want, and then die, one after another: clouds simply don’t care what they’re up to down there. And so their haughty fleet... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, October 23, 2009

CLOUDS

I’d have to be really quick to describe clouds - a split second’s enough for them to start being something else. Their trademark: they don’t repeat a single shape, shade, pose, arrangement. Unburdened by memory of any kind, they float easily over the facts. What on earth could they bear witness to?... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Why ‘Rest’ in the bottom lay?

I recently read a disarmingly simple ( intricate though in its use of similes, metaphors and conceits ) and an exquisite poem by George Herbert, a 17 th century poet who died young, at forty, in 1633. He has been rightfully called the saint of the Metaphysical school. His poem, The Pulley, is a... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

A Tragedy of Reconciliation

The day before it was vogue’s ‘ Cleo screams', and today, a comment from isiSEyes triggered this post on A and C. The impression left us at the close of Shakespeare’s play Antony and Cleopatra can scarcely be called purely tragic. The feeling of reconciliation, which mingles with the obviously... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Cleopatra's Redemption

Inspired by vogue's "And Cleo screams some more...", and her comment's page. You'll find some excellent humorous writes by Hackthorne19 and Sinome... Here. I enjoyed doing this from a different angle. Shakespeare loved to show his heroes with flaws and doubts and unheroic impulses, and heroines... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Gods of Paradisiac Languor?

The long-drawn ten years’ war in Troy has ended. The ship of Odysseus (that is, Ulysses) sets sail for homeward journey. The mariners sight land. A few of them go to explore the region. The air, languid, all quiet reigned. The streams seemed slumberous in movement. It was a land where nothing... Sign in to see full entry.

About this Blog

Embarking on a journey in spiritual quest is fraught with the dangers of doubt, tension and anxiety, disbeliefs, misgivings, and a whole lot of uncertainties. Still, it is that one most integral aspect of life that humankind can rarely ignore or do without. Scientific minds are at loggerheads with what constitute religious truths; likewise, there are close-minded believers that give no credence to scientific facts. What I intend and invite you to discuss here is an intelligent amalgamation of the two seemingly diabolically opposite understandings: whether there exists an interrelationship that can help man to evolve and bloom like the perennial lily?

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