Some poems

[Approaching Infinity]

Here is a little set of pseudo-haikus I wrote a couple years ago. More to come.

Ouroboros
In Hell, a circle.
Each receiving comfort,
Wishing for another's.

Instinct strikes a chord,
Seeks resolution without.
How difficult, choice.

Seeking discomfort,
Not the ease of old patterns.
Then comes true freedom.

Such energy spent,
To break the cycle.
In search of something higher.

 

[Skipling]

Very good piece of work. I suppose it comes with the form, but an economical use of language, which is great because there is nothing superfluous. Florid poetry is so passe.

I find the first stanza elusive, enigmatic. Encapsulating the human condition.

Seeking discomfort,
Not the ease of old patterns.
Then comes true freedom.

That strikes a chord with me. Like cutting a pathway through solid air, the seeking of freedom is alas for me a rather futile dream. However, we can all dream, can't we?

Hope. Don't drop it. I look forward to reading your future efforts AI, I may even come out of my creative lethargy myself sometime soon.

In search of something higher indeed! Like trying to see the sun on a cloudy day, the rays need to be met halfway. Happy cloudsurfing!

 

[Windmill knight]

Thanks AI! That reminded me of a haiku I wrote in April 2009.

Peaceful city sleep.
Fireball cuts the night sky.
The Ancients feared them.

And a short poem from the same month.

A golden afternoon

A golden afternoon in someone else's living room,
where two young women entertain a baby.

Angelic jesters of furiously yellow hair.
To his amazement, they softly bite the tiny foot.

They will soon sing and play the guitar for solemn adults
who vainly clutch to their cups - as if the warmth of the evening.

I am not husband, not lover, not father.
I do not possess; I do not steal.
I try not to disturb the visions on the pond of light.

 

[Oxajil]

Very nice poems AI and Wk!! :D Hope to see more.

 

[Approaching Infinity]

Thanks, Skipling, WK, and Oxajil!

Thanks AI! That reminded me of a haiku I wrote in April 2009.

Peaceful city sleep.
Fireball cuts the night sky.
The Ancients feared them.

That reminds me of this one (keeping the haiku circle going!):

Down from the heavens
Gravity brings destruction.
Yet the birds still soar.

And this song I wrote some years ago:

starless winter nights
four long years
how long 'til I know
why
everything turns gray
in this place
no one seems to mind

memories don't seem the same
four long years

waiting for the sun
will she come?
bathe me in her light
like four long years ago
stars fell through
I turn to the east
still

 

[Windmill knight]

That reminds me of this one (keeping the haiku circle going!):

Down from the heavens
Gravity brings destruction.
Yet the birds still soar.

And this song I wrote some years ago:

starless winter nights
four long years
how long 'til I know
why
everything turns gray
in this place
no one seems to mind

memories don't seem the same
four long years

waiting for the sun
will she come?
bathe me in her light
like four long years ago
stars fell through
I turn to the east
still

I like, AI! Both! :) Not only a good musician turned you out to be.

What I'm learning from reading people's poetry is that there are quite a few multi-talented people in this forum. Which is greedy. ;)

Very nice poems AI and Wk!! :D Hope to see more.

Thank youuu!!

Problem is I haven't written much poetry lately. With a few exceptions, when I try a poem it usually feels 'not right' - as in 'that's not really what I was feeling; this is pretentious, dishonest, fake, full of self-pity or self-importance, etc'. So I stop trying. Occasionally I try again without great success.

Having said that, while looking into my 'memory treasure chest', I found this from more than a decade ago which I'd like to share. The original was in Spanish but this is close enough. It's not really a poem, but I think it counts as one.

Vertigo

There is a famous bridge over a dry river. Because of a mistake of the architect - who was perhaps dizzy or half asleep - it was built upside down. Those who cross it walk with their heads down and feet up, at the risk of falling not to the river, but to the vertigo of a starry sky...

 

[Oxajil]

Very nice, you all are talented! Musician, huh :D
I also think your Vertigo poem counts as one, it's beautiful.

Problem is I haven't written much poetry lately. With a few exceptions, when I try a poem it usually feels 'not right' - as in 'that's not really what I was feeling; this is pretentious, dishonest, fake, full of self-pity or self-importance, etc'. So I stop trying. Occasionally I try again without great success.

The thing with poetry is imo, is that there is no ''one-way''. Every writer may decide for him/herself how s/he wishes to use the art of poetry. To vent? To access others? To see how far one can imagine? To discover? To describe one's current state of being? A combination of these? Or maybe there is no limit?

If you wish to make a 'right' poem, you'll have to think about first what you think that exactly means, to you.

 

[Nienna]

What I'm learning from reading people's poetry is that there are quite a few multi-talented people in this forum. Which is greedy. ;)

There are some very multi-talented people here on the forum in a lot of various forms. I just want to let you all know, who have been writing these lovely poems, how much I am enjoying them. They are exquisite, each in their own way.

Thank you.

 

[JonnyRadar]

AI and WK, those poems you posted are beautiful! I especially like the haikus.

This is a poem written at the beginning of '09.

A Reminder

Existence is a beautiful thing,
a point often missed
when petals speak of Fibonacci
and filings dance into form.

Galaxies gather and huddle
in the cells of skin and bone,
and Jesus wept
for those who turn blind eyes.

While each moment is eternal,
the battle is with memory,
to recall the staggering beauty
of every single speck.

And how much more so
to rise defiant from bondage,
to shatter stone with sounds
of laughter and truth.

To embrace a friend,
to stand down evil,
to hold the ramparts,
to fight -- with joy.

Gather now seekers
while we laugh and learn,
while we stand in a circle
and see clearly the horizon.

Our knowledge is power,
enough to render mute
the forces of control
and cause them to flee.

Our joy will crumble walls,
turn barriers to dust
and shake the ground
on which we stand.

Our mirrors are flint
sharpening iron,
we came not to bring sleep
but the sword.

And in the growing light
I see you friends,
your eyes glint with purpose
and the beauty of the nagual.

 

[ana]

This is a poem written at the beginning of '09.

It brings strength and joy! Thanks for sharing :)

 

[Approaching Infinity]

This is a poem written at the beginning of '09.

It brings strength and joy! Thanks for sharing :)

Very nice, indeed! Thanks, Jonathan.

 

[Aiming]

This is a poem written at the beginning of '09.

It brings strength and joy! Thanks for sharing :)

Very nice, indeed! Thanks, Jonathan.

It's really nice, thanks, Jonathan. :) As Ana said, strength and joy are speaking through. Something we cannot have enough of.

 

[Windmill knight]

Thanks for sharing Jonathan!

 

[Steve M.]

Tried my hand at something tonight, after rereading some things on the forum and elsewhere. Dealing with a lot of emotional stuff (baggage fits better) lately. Anyway, I'm calling it:

Waves

Rising and falling, by night or by day,
Soft sailing or smashing, the tides of the bay,
By Sun or Moon, your soft steady wind,
Riding a planet, lost, yet in time,

Lying on beaches, hearing your song,
Multitudes of ages, many have throng,
A symphony of timing, hearing your roars,
You mirror the heavens, dual archetypal doors,

Smashing the rocks or cooling the sands,
Continents arise in far foreign lands,
Beyond an eyes measure, awing and vast,
In depth or quite shallow, slow frozen or fast,

Washed away in gravitational cycles,
People approach coming from miles.
To bask in your aura, recoup from life’s trials,
Yet, you to have peril, from oil men smiles.

I look to the vastness, far past the waves,
I see history, with glimpses of slaves,
I realize, we to, are much the naives,
Our-Selves not controlled, “True emotion?” “Just shades. “

To get current with the current, current, is quite the task,
“Think I found it! Nope sorry, ‘twas just another mask,”
With courage, nay yet strength, I seek Destiny,
Reflect the heavens, going to harvest tranquility.

And that, like your beauty, depth and mystery,
I commit to pursuit of Truth in the Multiversal Sea.

I will proceed until I succeed, That is my calling, that is my deed,
And so I call to the Universe, rivers, oceans and seas,
Lend me your inertia, that I might change streams!

 

[go2]

This poem is for the people of the Cassiopaea Forum and especially those who devote their lives to this great effort.

Winter-2010

We heard you cry......

Turn to the left, turn to the right......
There is no escaping the bitter prairie wind,
which piles snow where it eddies and flows.

Turn to the left, turn to the right.....
Do you remember the steaming kettle of beef
and potato stew on the glowing woodstove?

Turn to the left, turn to the right....
One day you will paint a different roadside ditch.
That was the promise, that you made.

Turn to the left, turn to the right.....
Your dreams will be what could have been.
Your bed will be soaked with night sweat.

Turn to the left, turn to the right......
Across the snowy field, coyote yelps fill the night.
A bobcat's track wanders through the woods.

Turn to the left, turn to the right....
And yet, on the shortest day of the year
Feel the secret joy of winter's heart.

rk