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+--- Thread: Poetry (/showthread.php?tid=964)
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 10-28-2014
what you give freely
comes back many fold
this is a belief
that i dearly hold
what you give freely
returns many fold
this is abundance
that trumps all the gold
RE: Poetry - Sabou - 10-29-2014
The Sun Pearl
The pearl that lay within, residing in the mind of the heart
an eternal sun forever gleaming perfect veracity
Impeccable in its unaltered state, unspoiled and true
beaming its golden rays through the pores of flesh and blood
Diversifying the One Truth into infinite divisions, each perfect in itself
designed to transmute finite into the infinite, alchemizing time wrought matter
Though perfect in its plan, a medium so foreign has its roots in fault
the water befitted impurity and the rays dimmed by dirty glass
Prone to rust and tarnish when exposed by mortal tongue
its radiance twisted and turned by man, fragmented and forged
Though the pearl will always be pure and untarnished in the mind of the heart
that is where one must dwell, residing in the eternal sun, forever gleaming perfect veracity
The pearl that lay within, residing in the mind of the heart
an eternal sun forever gleaming perfect veracity
Impeccable in its unaltered state, unspoiled and true
beaming its golden rays through the pores of flesh and blood
Diversifying the One Truth into infinite divisions, each perfect in itself
designed to transmute finite into the infinite, alchemizing time wrought matter
Though perfect in its plan, a medium so foreign has its roots in fault
the water befitted impurity and the rays dimmed by dirty glass
Prone to rust and tarnish when exposed by mortal tongue
its radiance twisted and turned by man, fragmented and forged
Though the pearl will always be pure and untarnished in the mind of the heart
that is where one must dwell, residing in the eternal sun, forever gleaming perfect veracity
RE: Poetry - Raz - 10-30-2014
What is lost in thought
is found in being
don't confuse thoughts
with
how
what
or
when
you're seeing
assuming that we see
with the help of thoughts
and not the essence
of unity
that my friend
is universal awareness
experiencing temporary lunacy
is found in being
don't confuse thoughts
with
how
what
or
when
you're seeing
assuming that we see
with the help of thoughts
and not the essence
of unity
that my friend
is universal awareness
experiencing temporary lunacy
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 10-31-2014
what was one became two
just like crossing ones eyes
through thoughts we focus
like lightning they hypnotize
a shifting dance of emotion
a steady current of inner chat
lets give a hug to all that is
for if it exists than i am that
RE: Poetry - Raz - 10-31-2014
weaving words
in hope of understanding
when it´s all music
all I can do is continue dancing
looking to create a trigger key
unlock universal understanding in me
I was going at it all wrong
silence is the trigger
the source of understanding going on
the silence in the patterns
guide me like lanterns
never asking for anything in return
other than that I grow, mature and learn
but then again that is unavoidable
there is no need to force it and burn
in hope of understanding
when it´s all music
all I can do is continue dancing
looking to create a trigger key
unlock universal understanding in me
I was going at it all wrong
silence is the trigger
the source of understanding going on
the silence in the patterns
guide me like lanterns
never asking for anything in return
other than that I grow, mature and learn
but then again that is unavoidable
there is no need to force it and burn
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-04-2014
speak from a place of kindness
especially when you disagree
for earth is a realm of blindness
where beliefs take on solidity
yet nothing is as it appears
like a rainbow arching the sky
comfort zones don't face fears
you'll never know if you never try
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-04-2014
speak from a place of kindness
especially when you disagree
for earth is a realm of blindness
where beliefs take on solidity
yet nothing is as it appears
like a rainbow arching the sky
comfort zones don't face fears
you'll never know if you never try
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-06-2014
don't you worry your life away
there will always come another day
do what you can in the moment
now is where your power is potent
don't let your mind jump to conclusions
live the questions to bypass confusions
let your heart seep love into the world
plant a seed and watch it all unfurled
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-12-2014
when all fear has been vanquished
no longer will one feel anguished
for fear is the culprit of many a distress
pulling us away with reasons not to bless
yet the future does not need a projection
look towards the present to find perfection
giving affection to what's in our perception
this shift towards love is the correction
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-15-2014
what makes you come alive?
what makes you burn inside?
what gets you all excited?
what gets your heart ignited?
what gifts do you have to share?
what a gift is this breath of air?
what dream do you dare to dream?
what is love but an ancient meme?
RE: Poetry - Raz - 11-15-2014
let go of your fear of being fearless
you can do this without becoming careless
what you used to call fear
becomes common-sense
your sense of identity
less dense
your self image
without layers of pretence
you can do this without becoming careless
what you used to call fear
becomes common-sense
your sense of identity
less dense
your self image
without layers of pretence
RE: Poetry - Raz - 11-15-2014
your fearless nature is always at the door
it is between the projections of less and more
who was I before my first thought
perfect being without an ounce of doubt
then came the explanations
all the excuses and hesitations
it was a dark time indeed
full of assumptions on what it means to succeed
it is between the projections of less and more
who was I before my first thought
perfect being without an ounce of doubt
then came the explanations
all the excuses and hesitations
it was a dark time indeed
full of assumptions on what it means to succeed
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-20-2014
clear my vision of judgment
help me to see all beings as the divine
clear my speech of sarcasm
help me to speak with words that shine
clear my mind of expectation
help me stay present to life's unfolding
clear my heart of guilt and shame
help me release any pain i'm holding
RE: Poetry - Raz - 11-22-2014
what we call failure
is really a steppingstone to success
going through them
is a cause for celebration
rather than distress
"one step closer, to unknown universal success"
our success is unavoidable in the end
it´s rather quite beautifly boring
when we comprehend
failure is safe
there is no need
of feeling disgrace
relax, cultivate your space
and let our growth
happen at it´s own pace
*edit*
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-23-2014
my heart is soaring
and my bodies grounded
this miracle of life
has me dumbfounded
love's little blessings
have all compounded
the collective alarm clock
i feel has sounded
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 11-26-2014
take off that heavy armor
and wear your heart on your sleeve
meet life without protection
drop all defenses...they only deceive
there is strength in vulnerability
when the light you no longer censor
love only wishes to be shared
like the sweetness of a pez dispenser
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 12-01-2014
surrounded by loving hands
reaching out to help me
activator of pineal glands
master of inner alchemy
dreams are manifesting
right before my very eyes
everything is everything
again and again this i realize
Terrestrial & Other Poets/Poetasters-- The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly - Dekalb_Blues - 12-01-2014
"Here is what to do if you want to get a lift from a Vogon: forget it. They are one of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxy. Not actually evil, but bad-tempered, bureaucratic, officious, and callous. They wouldn't even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders-- signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters. The best way to get a drink out of a Vogon is to stick your fingers down his throat, and the best way to irritate him is to feed his grandmother to the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. On no account should you allow a Vogon to read poetry at you....
Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem 'Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning' four of his audience members died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported have been 'disappointed' by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled 'My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles' when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leaped straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paul Neil Milne Johnstone of Redbridge, Essex, England, in the destruction of the planet Earth [by the Vogons]."
---- Douglas Adams, The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee.
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes,
And hooptiously drangle me with crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee in the gobberwarts
With my blurglecruncheon, see if I don't!
--- Prostetnic Vogon Jeltz
Putty. Putty. Putty.
Green Putty - Grutty Peen.
Grarmpitutty - Morning!
Pridsummer - Grorning Utty!
Discovery..... Oh.
Putty?..... Armpit?
Armpit..... Putty.
Not even a particularly
Nice shade of green.
As I lick my armpit and shall agree,
That this putty is very well green.
--- Grunthos the Flatulent
The dead swans lay in the stagnant pool.
They lay. They rotted. They turned
Around occasionally.
Bits of flesh dropped off them from
Time to time.
And sank into the pool's mire.
They also smelt a great deal.
--- Paul Neil Milne Johnstone the Earthling
Note: candidature for fourth-worst poet in the Galaxy is a hotly-debated issue, although the consensus is that the unfortunate planet Earth is his or her origin (due to some uniquely deleterious quirk of cosmic-radiation-focus on the neuroaesthetic organs of the Earthlings); many tout the self-styled Poet McGonagall:
As I chanced to see trouts louping in the River o' Glenshee,
It helped to fill my heart with glee,
And to anglers I would say without any doubt
There's plenty of trouts there for pulling out.
--- Sir William Topaz McGonagall, G.K.H.O.W.E.B. [Grand Knight of the Holy Order of the White Elephant, Burma]
Others plump for Mrs. Ros:
Holy Moses! Take a look!
Flesh decayed in every nook!
Some rare bits of brain lie here,
Mortal loads of beef and beer.
--- Amanda McKittrick Ros, from "Visiting Westminster Abbey"
Such tendencies (along the lines of the elegiacally-inclined J. Gordon Coogler's
Alas, for the South! Her books have grown fewer--
She never was much given to literature.
quoted by by H. L. Mencken in his classic "The Sahara of the Bozart," lamenting the state of les beaux arts in the American South) are widespread amongst Earthian poetic effusion-- as can be sampled almost randomly from any number of sources, e.g.:
http://www.uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Worst_100_Short_Poems
http://flavorwire.com/384480/the-absolute-worst-poems-by-celebrities
Some say the paradigm of "bad" poetry is inadequate, as it doesn't take into account certain perhaps unapparent subtleties:
Bad Poetry
Bad poetry saves lives, bad poetry rhymes.
I write bad poetry. I'm in the life saving business.
I have about 350 witnesses. Bad poetry is on
Facebook, it separates humans from cogs.
Bad poetry shows up on blogs. I also write easy
Poetry. Easy poetry is easy to write. Gender
Poetry is easy to read. I write that too. Girl poetry
Is pink. I write boy poetry, it's blue. Mature poetry
Is about you. I write me poetry. Otherwise known
As free poetry. It's not expensive or green poetry.
I don't mix two colors to get this poetry. It's
Pure poetry. Pure poetry. Pure poetry.
--- Damon Freed
(and see, e.g., http://www.oholymackerel.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-sensitive-poem.html and http://www.oholymackerel.blogspot.com/2012/01/final-sensitive-poem.html )
However all that may be, with the increasing intergalactic cultural diffusion by numerous advanced sentient species one finds focused on said planet Earth one may now more readily find relatively undistorted expressions of poetical sentiment from radically different viewpoints/worldviews, e.g.:
Juvenile Rhyme
Write with your finger in the sand
Write with your finger, make it fit your hand
--- Lakesh [Pleiadian Blue]
http://www.humancolony.org/galactic-poetry[defunct]
-------->Archived: https://web.archive.org/web/20170107064845/http://www.humancolony.org/galactic-poetry/
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/poems-about-aliens
http://www.twirpx.com/file/1509931/
http://www.palgrave-journals.com/rm/journal/v16/n2/full/rm20144a.html
Cheers.
http://www.quotehd.com/imagequotes/authors69/tmb/jalal-ad-din-rumi-quote-all-day-I-think-about-it-then-at-night-I-say.jpg
http://meetville.com/images/quotes/Quotation-Rumi-poetry-Meetville-Quotes-150956.jpg
http://static2.quoteswave.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/Stop-the-words-now.jpg
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 12-03-2014
may our every interaction
exemplify the love that we are
may we act as truth reminders
each of us a unique shining star
if our eyes fail to see our perfection
then let us forgive our distorted sight
life gives nothing but more chances
in the end we will all be known as light
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 12-07-2014
there is no longer any need to preach
through our actions is how we teach
by living a life of honor and integrity
being one with our words is authenticity
let's set our intention to stay in alignment
interacting as love is our only assignment
if we lose our way and veer off course
just laugh it off without a bit of remorse
RE: Poetry - isis - 12-08-2014
idk
i know where i want to adventure to -
the place we all go when our life is through.
i was born for just one purpose: to die -
to kiss this strange reality good-bye.
i want to be where all souls are at peace -
until i have this, i'll long to decease.
when i can see, for sure, that all is well -
that is when i'll no longer want to bail.
i don't know how much longer i can wait -
could dying by my own hands be my fate?
(please note: i'm not suicidal. i just like writing darkish poems every now & then.)
RE: Poetry - Dekalb_Blues - 12-14-2014
(12-08-2014, 01:43 AM)isis Wrote: "i was born for just one purpose: to die -
to kiss this strange reality good-bye.
....
i don't know how much longer i can wait -
could dying by my own hands be my fate?
(please note: i'm not suicidal. i just like writing darkish poems every now & then.)"
Viva il chiaroscuro, il tenebroso! Und, Feiern die dunkelheit!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jbnueb2OI4o
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SudyHvtAPMY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rgTNx50ehFY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LLRPGfrxTxQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERfK6G_7SvY
I'm minded (via "tenebroso") of Charles Baudelaire (who was nothing if not "darkish" in his aesthetic!] and his mystico-synaesthesiacal "Correspondances" from his 1857 Fleurs du Mal [Flowers of Evil]-- in this scintillant poem he refers to echoing sounds swooningly mixing "dans une tenebreuse et profonde unite,/Vaste comme la nuit et comme la clarte,/Les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se repondent [in a dark and profound unity/Vast as the night or as the brilliance of noon--/So are commingled perfumes, sounds, and hues]."
http://www.fleursdumal.org/poem/103
There's something so deeply and paradoxically seductive to hypersensitive fragile mayfly mortals like us about the Full Stop to our Life Sentence that is grim death, "that undiscover'd country from whose bourne no traveler returns..." which on the one hand seems so grotesquely inimical to us, yet on the other somehow epitomizes the ne plus ultra of the Transcendent-- as closely linked as can be to our innermost heart's purest desire: to rejoin an ineffable Unity denied to us by our very incarnation in the austerities and obduracies of time/space, but of which we have an obscurely inarticulate but compelling memory, as of some barely-heard ever-fleeting whisper of impossibly beautiful music, "veil-tearing melodies"...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3pb1a--oSw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wp6NG6W_CQ
http://www.sacred-songs.blogspot.com/2007/06/song-of-reed_21.html
Again, Rumi: All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
The trick is to "die before one dies," as the ancient Sufi phrase metaphorically has it; to learn from those who know what's what (through their successful personal experience in such matters) how to effectively free one's ethereal interiority from one's mundane exteriority without necessarily croaking in the process (compare, e.g., an admittedly extreme case of such: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dEacGiMO3K0 ) It hasn't helped in the clarification of such things over the years that this concept, bereft of its technical instrumentality within an expertly competent dynamic context of expedited guided evolution, has been amateurishly misappropriated by any number of rather fundamentalist and cultic groupings (not necessarily of any nominally "religious" or "spiritual" type) for the static purpose of merely maintaining, against all odds, the improbable narratives generated by actually unsustainable belief systems. But hi ho, so it goes, as Kurt Vonnegut would say; one soldiers on in the direction of relative freedom, and finds Love where one finds it.
http://www.brainpickings.org/2012/11/26/kurt-vonnegut-on-the-shapes-of-stories/
http://www.vimeo.com/25996242 An interesting example of what one could perceive as channeled material tailored to a popular artform, as part of a pragmatic effort in the diffusion of fairly alien culture. See J. Southstar's appended comment comprising some pertinent lines from Rumi regarding our origins and the urgent felt need, in our capacity as Joni-Mitchellian billion-year-old carbon, to metaphorically get our sad diasporic golden-stardust asses back to the Garden pronto.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyotn-3qycM
Cheers!
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 12-17-2014
there is always room for some improvement
the infinite Creator creates through movement
stirring up the pot so life doesn't stagnate
now is the cornerstone of the gateless gate
there is no need to knock or even to enter
for no matter where we go we are the center
offering an angle of perception like no one else
this journey of discovery through layers of self
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 01-07-2015
life just gives me
reason upon reason
to trust in the unfolding
from season to season
even when left in disarray
from plans that fell through
the universe answers back
saying, "this is waiting for you"
better than i could imagine
as the clock strikes midnight
transported into a fairy tale
an intimate dance of delight
seeing one's reflection
in a mirror that is true
i wish you all the best
in this year that is new
RE: Poetry - alchemikey - 01-19-2015
being killed by it blessedly
dissolved into the melody
lifting these hands in praise
to the musical stars that blaze
union of movement and sound
heart bows to this sacred ground
upon which twists the wavy spiral
a spinning top...a perpetual gyro
RE: Poetry - alicewhite - 01-23-2015
The days I've had,
in the sunlight
The nights I've had,,,,
in the moonlight
The life I've had----
in space time
I saw you before,
you opened up the door
You recognised my face,
before it formed even though it was erased
I spun the words as you turned the page of a prophet seer sage
and I spun what's said with my spiders spinning thread
the point of my spindle pierce pierced pierces the side of Christ as all and nothing bleeds a yarn from my head
events not yet heard of because at last first there was the word that I haven't yet said.
but I like to listen so ill watch as you say it instead.
"said the knight to alice chasing butterflies in the wheat old man catcher in the rye Haddocks eyes"
RE: Poetry - alicewhite - 01-23-2015
(12-08-2014, 01:43 AM)isis Wrote:Isis, your a perfect reflection of yourself and us all , and ditto, please don't go, personally I think you have too much too offer, and I remember what the dormouse said, I know you do to lol x
idk
i know where i want to adventure to -
the place we all go when our life is through.
i was born for just one purpose: to die -
to kiss this strange reality good-bye.
i want to be where all souls are at peace -
until i have this, i'll long to decease.
when i can see, for sure, that all is well -
that is when i'll no longer want to bail.
i don't know how much longer i can wait -
could dying by my own hands be my fate?
(please note: i'm not suicidal. i just like writing darkish poems every now & then.)
RE: Poetry - isis - 01-24-2015
(01-23-2015, 09:02 PM)alicewhite Wrote: Isis, your a perfect reflection of yourself
wait - what?
RE: Poetry - Raz - 01-28-2015
There is a place in me
deeper than the deepest sea
a place that makes even the sturdiest of mountains seem
as illusory and fragile as a dream
RE: Poetry - Reaper - 01-28-2015
Thirteen hands upon my shoulder, tunnels twisting through the wake,
interlocking fire and ether, stone upon which cold waves break.
Thirteen voices, ever-calling, thirteen tongues that speak as one,
pouring light through crystal vessel, know the words or be undone.
Thirteen eyes watch darkest corners, hearts that know no stately rest.
Dance through dreams of hidden children, leap through doorways; know the test.
Be not burned in flame consuming, be not drowned in airless depths,
serpent’s poison grants them visions, stars undying do the rest.
Thirteen heartbeats, blood consuming, give of life as water-light,
fruit in-taken, purpose blooming, candle-glow within the night.
Hills beyond the valley shadowed, gates whose path trails thirteen stairs,
followed darkness, angel-music, pulled to heights beyond despair.
Silence is the space that fills
dawn of whispers, touches soft
unseen strength now held aloft,
ignited blaze, truth unshaking.