Post poetry here, either written by you or a favorite poet of yours.
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Poetry--yours or others
(21 posts)-
A poem by
Helen MallicoatI AM
I was regretting the past
And fearing the future…
Suddenly my Lord was speaking:
“MY NAME IS I AM.” He paused.I waited. He continued,
“When you live in the past,
with its mistakes and regrets,
it is hard. I am not there.My name is not I was.
When you live in the future,
with its problems and fears,
it is hard. I am not there.My name is not I will be.
“When you live in this moment,
it is not hard.
I am here.My name is I AM.”
Posted 5 months ago # -
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved youall your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.Dereck Walcott
Posted 5 months ago # -
Self seeker ... seeking his SELf, died
All words, all desires expired.There is a will, alive still,
Posthumous, insane,
Do whatever, reduce pain.Posted 5 months ago # -
Dawn
With the early wet dew
And still
Upon a throne of stone
A faint first light
Of dawn breaking through the trees
Shafts of light upon the fields
Like a rite of passage into consciousness
From the sleepy dream
Of frayed wings
That ache which nothing can satisfy
Except awareness of eminence
The knowing of bliss and beauty
In the trees so easy in the streaming light
That release hues of thought
Simplicity in letting go
To what is immortality
Light and being beyond the white fog of separation
The wild flowers that fill the skull
With watercolors of haunting fragrances
And the sense of strength in the massive tree trunks and roots
That hold deep all That Which Is
Among the antlered ferns
And the wind ever rippling the grasses of time
Where limb fragments lie among the stems like graceful skeletons of artistic craftPosted 5 months ago # -
The Darkened Husk
The darkened husk fell to the stream
Soundless in the slow snake-meandering water
Transparent in the light
Of crystal sparks
As foundering leaves weave the shadows with color
In the shapes of their ancient ancestors
Inching to the sluice of quick lips
Where some leaves gather above
As the husk drops between the rocks that are the precipice gates
To eternityPosted 5 months ago # -
The Warbler's Song
Ramble on
Fill the spread of heaven
With spring recesses
Of sprigs
Made of yourself
Be the life and the fields
Of your being
The very adornments of bliss
Lustrous and fragrant
In the light
Of your dream
Heaven
As you would have it to be
The warbler's song
That brings joy to everything
The measureless light
In the unborn thought
Rapt of love
And for love
Ecstasy in your own immortality
Where the hurrying wind
Is but your wingsPosted 5 months ago # -
The Lips of Your Dream
So drifts the leaves
Born of wood
That merge of likenesses
Rippling
In the wind rivers of time
Ever written of bliss
That would not be
Without you
Your very reflection of self
Bent into the unloosened lips
Of your dream
Rolling amid the echoes
That you may merge with yourself
Yet untouched
Looking in this silence
As the rustle tenderly wends selflessPosted 5 months ago # -
Skullduggery
The eerie narcissism
Forbidden
In a rising of magickal incantation
No longer suffering in a tent
But wanting the unexplored territory
The sinews made of verse
Filling the blank edges
Of living reflection
The unbound spirit aloft in itself
All alive in the emptiness of hallowed creation
Selfless biomorphism that contradicts within the atom dream
Diminutive to please beauty out of necessity
The tattoo swirls on the skull all minePosted 5 months ago # -
The Sycamore
The watercolor sycamore was splayed
In light brown and white
As the morning light
Dappled the canvas
And it was added
As it streamed through
The great branches
Of the mind
That wants to remake
What is already beautiful
To find the voice of the ancient tree
That makes thought cease
In its wisdom
As the vastness of the grassy fields
Now seen
Like the waves of a soft sea silent and near
As the shadow of light fills me
The tiny emeralds on the ground as the earth turns with me
Mysticism in the rocks and hawks as they enter
Under the sky
And the tree tells me that I am only a temporary dream painting the world
Someday to be a tree and the tree painting mePosted 5 months ago # -
Tantric
Animus of the sky
Winged so V
In the orange sunshine
Drip drops *
Of nirvana rainbow temple
Round Self
Cellular awareness
The atom waves .. ....`............. .
Of thought
Vibrating ever fast //
Into the sucking streams
Of dew-soaked virgins slowly dancing ~
To tribal beats in ragged jeans
Snug V
In the glassinine moment
Firnament angst in soft demure >
Kiss so gentle wet to know x
For an evening song to be for her in the beautiful wizen ache
Basilisked for the scalloped hem
The heart a gift to givePosted 5 months ago # -
Whispers
So still
The firmament of silence
That watches the burning stars
Glittering
Of Immortality
The Septenary crown of fire that would be the butterfly of Psyche
Glyph of the soul that has wings that no god knows
Mystery of the depths within
The mathematics of an absolute infinite
As its head is placed on the altar of the self
The scythe of rebirth
Soft and swift in the surrender
The end of the beginning
Alpha Omega set aflame in the destroyer of illusions
Winged disc that surmounts the lingam
Blossoming rod that would be a royal chalice
That sword that pierces the heart
'O circle about the lotus
Enigma wind that stirs a knowing like a faint knock on the door
Where there would ghosts searching for dreams
The hammer of ruddy temper
As the serpent lies coiled as form chases form
For the poison of its very end
Yet the distant knowing whispers in echoes that are farther than the deepest heartPosted 5 months ago # -
We all know that poetry says much. I am providing a link of interest to poets. I am also putting one of my poems analyzed using TPFASTT.
http://www.portergaud.edu/data/files/gallery/ClassroomPublicFileGallery/TPFASTT.pdf
Posted 5 months ago # -
T silence is sought and preferred.
P The metamorphosis of a person¢s belief system which has been a complete contradiction of what was previously learned and trusted.
F the metaphors and imagery of sweet flowers left to dry and fade indicates a hard passing of one belief to the next. The imagery within these lines reiterate the need to start over in silence so to speak. This almost sounds like a religious debate of whether or not god is here and alive.
Tone: the tone is matter of factly with no surprises.
The title takes on a different meaning once the reader explores the figurative lan and the title now implies that the writer has gone thru a tremendous change from a time when he thought he had all the answers to now when he realizes he doesn¢t know anything at all but he is content to relearn what is put before him.
Theme: Changes are inevitable and individuals must succumb to the change and accept changes or dry up and die.
From: AsI
Subject: "Ecstatic Stillness"
To: r
Date: Saturday, June 21, 2008, 1:40 PMEcstatic Stillness
The dried petals of the violets lie
Upon the floor
Now chiseled and curled
Laconically adorned and I the priest
Who has come to worship
This conjunction come
In sacred silence
As my vision stares
And all turns soft and blurs away
In slow immediacy
I cannot help
But touch my thoughts
As the petals crack
And break so frail like some beauty slain
That stains the moist floor
Of my inner being
Like a chrysalis waiting that unknown gift
Rather ecstasy in the loss of selfPosted 5 months ago # -
This was my response to someone else's poem. I thought it a poem itself. (You won't get to see the different fonts.)
For What was Not
A deep poem. The
feminine
penetrated
Taken for what it is
yet
no beauty or love in the act
A sadness..
For what was not.Posted 5 months ago # -
Hey Chip. Yes, subtle is best. I shoot for it. I would be honored by Rumi's smile though my poetry is simply what it is. I might add that I am honored by your smile more.
Your ever friend ~ Asi
Posted 5 months ago # -
Chip, Chip, so very hip.
Remember the cafe!
It was complete reality
in its own peculiar way!Posted 4 months ago # -
All The Stars Of The Heavens With A Radiant Light,
Are The Children Of God Who Work Day And Night...There Labour Is Seen, They Wear A Celestial Glow,
And Shut Out The Darkness For God They Do Know...If Yours Is A Star Without Any Beam,
Just Work A lot Harder You Will Then Start To Gleam...Your Flame Will Burn Brighter If You You Feed It With Love,
And You'll Shine With A Brilliance From The Heavens Above...Falling Stars Are Gods Children Who Have Fallen From Grace,
Darkness Devoured Them And They Fell In Disgrace...Consumed By The Passions Of The World Below,
In The Light Of Christ, May Our Prayers Help Them Grow...Lots Of Love,
FeatherOfHeaven,
neptunemum...Posted 3 months ago # -
I Am Alone In A World Of My Own,
Reality Means Little To Me.There Is Violence And Hunger,Greed and Pain,
It's A World Of Hostility.So I Will Close My Eyes And Open My Mind,
Where My Fantasies Will Set Me Free.There Is Beauty And Peace And All I Desire,
It's A World Of Tranquility...Lots Of Love nepsfeather...
ps...I wrote this poem years ago and created a piece of artwork to go with it...
Posted 3 months ago #
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