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+--- Thread: Poetry (/showthread.php?tid=964)
RE: Poetry - haqiqu - 06-05-2011
(06-05-2011, 06:07 AM)norral Wrote: to the little 12 year old girl dying of cancer
i first saw u in the commercial for st. judes childrens hospital
u were being treated for inoperable brain cancer.
i saw your nobility and your dignity, way way way beyond
your years.
much more so than most adults that i have encountered.
this was your second time here,
you had gone into remission and then the cancer had come back
here u were 12 years old being treated with chemo and radiation
and yet still running around helping the younger ones , the 4 and 5 year olds
carrying them to their treatments, being with them , soothing them
how very very noble of you.
my heart leaped in my chest, i wanted you to heal so much.
they interviewed your mother, a good woman, a rock,
lord, i said, u have got to help her get better u have just got to.
u died , u passed away u didnt make it
my heart broke, invisible hands pounding unseen walls
why god why i just dont understand, i dont get it
why did she have to die, there are so many others who
deserve to die so much more than she did.
pol pot , murderer of two million lives to be 75
and you die at the age of 12.
i just dont get it lord, i just dont get it
norral
very beautiful, norral. such a sweet, sad lament. this child's loving spirit will go a bit farther now that you have remembered her in verse. sometimes these special people can only stay with us for a short while, then they are needed somewhere else. this child helped many others in her short stay here, more than lots of people do in a whole lifetime. she's a special angel.
love to you, brother
haqiqu
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-06-2011
Dear Haqiqu
what u say is so true. these souls are very advanced and came not so much for themselves but much more so for others. still sometimes this reality does weigh on us so heavily. i really look forward to the day when all of us, freed from the limitations of this physical form, can be so much more intimately connected to one another and all our tears will be wiped away.
love u sister
norral
In the Beginning - haqiqu - 06-10-2011
In the Beginning
Sometimes simplicity rises
like a blossom of fire
from the white silk of your own skin.
You were there in the beginning
you heard the story, you heard the merciless
and tender words telling you where you had to go.
Exile is never easy and the journey
itself leaves a bitter taste. But then,
when you heard that voice, you had to go.
You couldn't sit by the fire, you couldn't live
so close to the live flame of that compassion
you had to go out in the world and make it your own
so you could come back with
that flame in your voice, saying listen...
this warmth, this unbearable light, this fearful love...
It is all here, it is all here.
~ David Whyte ~
(Fire in the Earth)
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-11-2011
beautiful as always sister !!
love you
norral
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-11-2011
the selective vacuum cleaner
sometimes i wish i had a big selective vacuum cleaner
that i could pass over this earth.
it would only suck up arrogant people the humble would
not be touched.
and they, the arrogant, could be deposited in some dust bin of the universe, away from the rest of us.
end result , a world filled with humble people
one can dream, no?
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-11-2011
i think that's arrogant to say that.
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-11-2011
ha ha thats funny well then just deposit me in that great dust bin in the sky
RE: Poetry - Meerie - 06-12-2011
I am dreaming of being in a world without violence, greed, suffering and... bureaucracy
(and yes you could add without the arrogant people as well
)
RE: Poetry - Ankh - 06-12-2011
(06-11-2011, 12:13 PM)norral Wrote: the selective vacuum cleaner
sometimes i wish i had a big selective vacuum cleaner
that i could pass over this earth.
it would only suck up arrogant people the humble would
not be touched.
and they, the arrogant, could be deposited in some dust bin of the universe, away from the rest of us.
end result , a world filled with humble people
one can dream, no?
Reminded me of the movie called "The prince of Egypt" where only the special people had to paint their door with the blood of a lamb, so the vengeful God would not kill their firstborn children. Only the "right" people was spared such suffer.
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-12-2011
i like arrogant people!
i love that movie. of course it's historical nonsense.
RE: Poetry - Brittany - 06-15-2011
Yes, it's depressing. Yes, it's exactly how I feel.
Love Machine
There are days when you still see me,
cracking gears and rusting tendons,
marching over the fields
of shattered hearts and expired equipment,
still searching with unblinking eyes
for those shudders of pain.
Needle attachments. Compensate. Alleviate.
Programmed words and gestures-
gentle touches from fingers
whose tips have worn to sharp points.
It is compulsive, second nature.
Pain is the fuel that turns the motor.
Feel it, programmed, no turning off.
It coats every inch of my soul like polymer resin.
Feel it. Take it. Driven on by
sensors that make each scream
a knife through a coating of skin
that still somehow feels
though nothing lies beneath it.
Computer code makes me care.
Self repairing- latest model.
Stab me again. It grows back.
Pay no attention, do not worry
about that scent of rot
that comes from within.
I'm not outdated.
I'm dependable.
Don't you dare worry
that I'm dying inside.
I'm here to heal your pain.
I'm a love machine, baby,
deployed onto the battlefield
where the gnashing teeth of the media
spew hateful words like Gatling guns.
Built efficient, built to last,
built to suck the impurity out of the air,
created to save you from this insanity.
It's who I am. It's what I do.
It's all I'll ever be to you.
There is honor in fulfilling the program.
I'm just a trusty
rusty
love machine
com
ing
to
sav e
you,
b
a
by...
RE: Poetry - haqiqu - 06-15-2011
(06-15-2011, 03:47 PM)ahktu Wrote: Yes, it's depressing. Yes, it's exactly how I feel.
Love Machine
There are days when you still see me,
cracking gears and rusting tendons,
marching over the fields
of shattered hearts and expired equipment,
still searching with unblinking eyes
for those shudders of pain.
Needle attachments. Compensate. Alleviate.
Programmed words and gestures-
gentle touches from fingers
whose tips have worn to sharp points.
It is compulsive, second nature.
Pain is the fuel that turns the motor.
Feel it, programmed, no turning off.
It coats every inch of my soul like polymer resin.
Feel it. Take it. Driven on by
sensors that make each scream
a knife through a coating of skin
that still somehow feels
though nothing lies beneath it.
Computer code makes me care.
Self repairing- latest model.
Stab me again. It grows back.
Pay no attention, do not worry
about that scent of rot
that comes from within.
I'm not outdated.
I'm dependable.
Don't you dare worry
that I'm dying inside.
I'm here to heal your pain.
I'm a love machine, baby,
deployed onto the battlefield
where the gnashing teeth of the media
spew hateful words like Gatling guns.
Built efficient, built to last,
built to suck the impurity out of the air,
created to save you from this insanity.
It's who I am. It's what I do.
It's all I'll ever be to you.
There is honor in fulfilling the program.
I'm just a trusty
rusty
love machine
com
ing
to
sav e
you,
b
a
by...
Sorrows, cries of pain, shrieks of anger as well as joy and ecstasy are welcome here. Very expressive, Ahktu, I like it. Writing out your "blues" is one good way of dealing with them.
Simple being IS perfect - haqiqu - 06-15-2011
Simply being IS perfect.
Mirror is a great tool,
yet it is also
the biggest liar in the world.
a. You see your reflection as only
you can see 'yourself' - no one else;
yet you take for granted
this is how others see you. . .
and none of those is
what you truly are.
b. the mirror shows you
your right as left,
and left what's rightly right.
There is more, but one
should look for one self....
In reality,
Truth/self/love without conditions,
This glorious sentient presence
Formless, boundless and omnipresent,
Center-less and beyond time
Is all that is, was, and ever will be...
*********************************
yosy flug
"BOOM! Poems from the Deep"
Aimless Love - haqiqu - 06-16-2011
Aimless Love
This morning as I walked along the lakeshore,
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor's window,
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smoke from a naval battle.
This is the best kind of love, I thought,
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut,
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
No lust, no slam of the door -
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting, no huffiness, or rancor -
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always propped up
in a field on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap,
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.
~ Billy Collins ~
(Nine Horses)
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-20-2011
love it sister. heres one for all of us
One day
one day soon all these illusions and confusions will be set aside
and we"ll meet and greet at the end of this ride
smiles and laughter will adorn our faces
we'll have filled in all those spaces
no more heartbreak , sadness or fears
no more need to shed all these tears
after long agony , rapture and bliss
right was the pathway that led us to this
norral
RE: Poetry - haqiqu - 06-20-2011
(06-20-2011, 07:19 AM)norral Wrote: love it sister. heres one for all of us
One day
one day soon all these illusions and confusions will be set aside
and we"ll meet and greet at the end of this ride
smiles and laughter will adorn our faces
we'll have filled in all those spaces
no more heartbreak , sadness or fears
no more need to shed all these tears
after long agony , rapture and bliss
right was the pathway that led us to this
norral
amen, brother, amen
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-21-2011
they're watching me
judging me
millions of them
i'm on SpaceTV
i'm prime rib daily
dancing gaily
the fool that could
mock the deity
and i can fly and flit
i am dumb as s***
i can say what i want
i can play my part
i am full 3D
i am color TV
i'm on Jerry Springer
i'm meatlocker dinner
i'm abused cow
i'm your mindfree chow
i'm your depraved chicken
i'm your steroid stricken mystery meat fricken
THING
they watch me, can't you see
they monitor me
they hound my ass
i'm the mutant seabass
they tag my flesh
they come make checks
they anal probe me
they think i'm not free
the aliens
the aliens
are coming
to town
the aliens
the aliens
are coming
to town
and they're not what i'm hiding from
RE: Poetry - haqiqu - 06-21-2011
(06-21-2011, 11:30 AM)Oceania Wrote: they're watching me
judging me
millions of them
i'm on SpaceTV
i'm prime rib daily
dancing gaily
the fool that could
mock the deity
and i can fly and flit
i am dumb as $hit
i can say what i want
i can play my part
i am full 3D
i am color TV
i'm on Jerry Springer
i'm meatlocker dinner
i'm abused cow
i'm your mindfree chow
i'm your depraved chicken
i'm your steroid stricken mystery meat fricken
THING
they watch me, can't you see
they monitor me
they hound my a$$
i'm the mutant seabass
they tag my flesh
they come make checks
they anal probe me
they think i'm not free
the aliens
the aliens
are coming
to town
the aliens
the aliens
are coming
to town
and they're not what i'm hiding from
love it!! i wish everyone would respect our 2D brothers and sisters.
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-21-2011
thanks.
me too.
Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith - haqiqu - 06-21-2011
Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith
Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun's brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can't hear
anything, I can't see anything --
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,
nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,
the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker --
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.
And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing --
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,
the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet --
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.
And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt
swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?
One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
is sure to be there.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(West Wind)
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-24-2011
thank you sister, love u always. heres one
trying so hard
out there , bare nerves exposed to cold blowing wind,
should i put a jacket on or just walk around naked.
ha ha funny isnt it, looking for someone who just
wont
hit
me
hurt
me
dropping everything , i guess i dropped that ball
dont want to carry it all
look into my face
gods sweet grace
what is it u feel
now , being oh so
real.
weakness or strength,
you decide, im too tired to pretend anymore
love
norral
and heres another
penetrating heart strings
what is it they bring
these oh so sweet sounds playing in my heart
come , play with me, will u be my friend
its much easier and much more fun
than pretending we aren't one
ive got nothing to prove and nothing
i want , other than to drop the facade
of separateness.
join me, now and forever
norral
and one more
look
look, its staring us in the face
grabbing our shirt and pulling it
shouting , pay attention now.
will we listen or shall we choose to
walk over the dead bodies of little brown children
blown up by 1000 pounders
no skin off my nose
or my skin
time to choose.
norral
and one last one
unzip my heart
unzip my heart, go ahead,
take it out of its burlap bag
and let it beat, hold it in your hand.
squeeze me and let me feel
life flowing in, words flowing out.
unzip it, go ahead dont be afraid
im not, im ready now
norral
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-24-2011
nice, Norral.
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-24-2011
thanks Oceania, i had a little creative burst there last night lol
so i figured i'd write it down.
norral
RE: Poetry - CarlS - 06-24-2011
I'll do a little free style poetry...I can do this cause I went to the school of Carl Sandberg.....
A blue bird landed on my tree
I need another cup of tee
stop dipping your balls
in my coffee....
Ouch it burns it burns!!!!
I warned you and now for the news.
"A man was emitted to the emergency room for being a democrat....."
Thanks I'll be here all night but that was last night tonight I'll be here.
-Carl S.
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-24-2011
ha a man was emitted to the emergency room for being a democrat
that too funny, love it
norral
Wise Men Keep Talking About - haqiqu - 06-24-2011
Wise Men Keep Talking About
Time is the shop
Where everyone works hard
To build enough love
To break the
Shackle.
Wise men keep talking about
Wanting to meet Goddess.
Women sometimes pronounce the word God
A little differently:
They can use more feeling and skill
With the heart-lute.
All the world's movements,
Apparent chaos, and suffering I now know happen
In the Splendid Unison:
Our tambourines are striking
The same thigh.
Hafiz stands
At a juncture in this poem.
There are a thousand new wheels I could craft
On a wagon
And place you in -
Lead you to a glimpse of the culture
And seasons in another dimension.
Yet again God
Will have to drop you back at the shop
Where you still have work
With
Love.
~ Hafiz ~
(The Gift -- versions of Hafiz by Daniel Ladinsky)
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-26-2011
thanks sister, beautiful as always. my soul bows before the beauty of you
being . heres one
on being yourself
letting go of what should be,
i have decided to just be me.
lover of kids, animals and stones
here i sit norral alone.
not trying to make others uncomfortable
but feeling no need to conform to
something which i perceive as disconnected.
so dont take me personally
and i'll do the same for you.
theres more than enough room for both of us
in this infinite universe.
do u agree ?
RE: Poetry - Oceania - 06-26-2011
very nice poem. gives you some perspective.
RE: Poetry - haqiqu - 06-26-2011
(06-26-2011, 04:36 AM)norral Wrote: thanks sister, beautiful as always. my soul bows before the beauty of you
being . heres one
on being yourself
letting go of what should be,
i have decided to just be me.
lover of kids, animals and stones
here i sit norral alone.
not trying to make others uncomfortable
but feeling no need to conform to
something which i perceive as disconnected.
so dont take me personally
and i'll do the same for you.
theres more than enough room for both of us
in this infinite universe.
do u agree ?
yep, brother i agree wholeheartedly
blessings and love to you
RE: Poetry - norral - 06-27-2011
dear haqiqu and oceania, thanks so much for the kind words and energy. your kindness makes my day and gives me hope and comfort !!
norral