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    marye
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    By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.

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  • free idea
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    Saint Stephen
    Saint Stephen with a roseIn and out of the garden he goes Country garland in the wind and the rain Wherever he goes the people all complain --R. Hunter
  • starsleeper
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    Springtime and Flowers
    Human raceFloating through space A tiny drop of life Among the stars Precious mind A living eye Where space and time And dreams collide And we're light years away Where we started from Dancing in circles And banging the drum Over the rainbow Or under the gun Let it shine Precious mind
  • starsleeper
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    Springtime and Flowers
    Human raceFloating through space A tiny drop of life Among the stars Precious mind A living eye Where space and time And dreams collide And we're light years away Where we started from Dancing in circles And banging the drum Over the rainbow Or under the gun Let it shine Precious mind
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    Sweet Release
    If it is sweet release you need,The word for today is already You are already out For you were never in Never born to never die If nothing is ever born What is there ever to die?
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    Grantchester Meadows - Roger Waters
    Grantchester Meadows (Waters) "Icy wind of night be gone this is not your domain" In the sky a bird was heard to cry. Misty morning whisperings and gentle stirring sounds Belied the deathly silence that lay all around. Hear the lark and harken to the barking of the dog fox Gone to ground. See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water. And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees Laughing as it passes through the endless summer Making for the sea. In the lazy water meadow I lay me down. All around me golden sun flakes settle on the ground. Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room. Hear the lark harken to the barking of the dark fox Gone to ground. See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water. And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees. In the lazy water meadow I lay me down. All around me golden sun flakes covering the ground. Basking in the sunshine of a bygone afternoon Bringing sounds of yesterday into this city room. Hear the lark harken to the barking of the dark fox Gone to ground. See the splashing of the kingfisher flashing to the water. And a river of green is sliding unseen beneath the trees, Laughing as it passes through the endless summer making for the sea.
  • starsleeper
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    let your soul smile awhile
    Slim's Chance 3/11/10 He was born in the diggins' Back in '54 His daddy a miner His momma a whore And just like the pickins' They called his name Slim And daddy soon died When a tunnel caved in He was raised in a barroom Until he was four Then the diggins' dried up And the town was no more From Yuba to Boise Then Leadville they rode Just like momma said They would follow the gold He learned how to gamble And drink with the rest And when he was twelve Shot a thief in the chest When the gold all played out Momma headed back west And Slim took a job With the Pony Express He rode like the wind With hardly a care Except for the injuns Who wanted his hair But the life was too fast paced And Slim was still young So he filed a land claim Up in Oregon He met a young missy And made her his wife They vowed that they'd both be Together for life They built a nice cabin To shelter their heads And he grew the wheat While she baked the bread One day the news came A new strike was on! There's buckets of gold Up in the Yukon The wife and Slim argued But Slim made it clear He'd be back with a fortune Inside a year Slim headed up north Oh he had to move fast But winter came on And closed Chilicoot Pass Oh fate can be fickle When you're chasing your dreams By the time he hit Dawson They'd claimed all the seams Two years had gone by Before Slim got home Dressed all in rags With nothin' to show He thought that he'd tell her That he's done with that life But a city-boy dandy Had stolen his wife She'd took all they had And sold his fine claim He thought then and there He might blow out his brains But momma once said A man carries his load And doesn't stop ridin' Till the end of the road So Slim dried his eyes And picked himself up He poured out a dram And downed the whole cup He packed up his outfit Of horse, gun, and pan And some say he's still out there Riding the land
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    A happy man
    It wasn't a happy man It wasn't a happy man who fired the opening rounds It wasn't a happy man who formed the first fist It wasn't a happy man who started the first war It wasn't a happy man who threw the first stone I am a happy man Why would I follow that unhappy man? I am a happy man Who is not made happier by a deadlier weapon Or a more cutting remark The examples of my life Are other happy people I follow their footsteps Not the steps Of that unhappy man It was not a happy man who started the first fight It was not a happy man who caused the atomic light It was not a happy man who kept the woman down It was not a happy man who burnt the towers to the ground I am a happy man I am travelling the other way From that unhappy man But I understand Happiness ends most problems In a grateful smile Brought me out of A nose dive Made me Glad to be alive A happy man
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    Voices -- Russ Ballard
    If you could see my mind, if you really look deep, then maybe you'll find That somewhere there will be a place, hidden behind my comedian face You will find somewhere there's a house, and inside that house there's a room Locked in the room in the corner you see A voice is waiting for me, to set it free, I got the key, I got the key Voices, I hear voices In my head the voice is waiting, waiting for me to set it free I locked it inside my imagination, but I'm the one who's got the combination Some people didn't like what the voice did say So I took the voice and I locked it away, I got the key, I got the key Voices, I hear voices, voices, I hear voices Chorus: Don't look back, look straight ahead, don't turn away, then the voice it said Don't look back, yesterday's gone, don't turn away, you can take it on (Solo) Voices, I hear voices, voices, I hear voices (chorus repeats 3x) Voices, voices, voices, voices - don't look back Voices, voices (chorus repeats 2x)...
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    MIND is mandala
    Mind is LoveA mandala The closer you arrive Into the center The better it is If you are Getting a little cold Standing where you are Move closer to the fire Of love Mind is Love A mandala Moving closer To the center Means surrender Or hold your self away For some gratuitous turbulence But why not allow your fingers to part And let the feather Fly in the wind Mind is Love A mandala Seen from the center Looking out on what All my friends Know The sound of my voice All may ever freely enter We can talk about the roses And the craftmanship that went into Constructing the gate But sooner than later Let us Have our ticket torn And enter the house The house of sound and light Where the flying masters are presently Experimenting Let us be Silent and listening For a moment in time To experience their absolute joy Expressed in sound We come together al-one Mind is Love A mandala Move towards the center The sound is better
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    Diamond Head
    Empty handGrasps diamond
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By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.
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Conception,Birth., Beauty. Sickness, Old age, Death. Conception, Rebirth Stop. I just want To stop. Or at least Slow down At the Beauty part. Please?
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Long time no hear, Free. Let us know if you're still kicking in Vermont's poet cathedral...
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What Anna said...
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A rose arousedInspires desires Arising as pyres Suspiring expire
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Musical notes fallSynapses register joy Crazy toe traction
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In Houghton-le-Spring,If you hear a bird sing, It wouldn’t be that rare I must say. But if you see one dance Then it must be from France In County Durham on holiday. It’s just too absurd To suggest British birds Partake in dances of any kind. At least not in full view, That will never do. British birds are far too refined. A poem from my latest collection of comic verse for Children... Further info here: http://originalwriting.ie/bookshop/poetry/a-poets-nonsensical-journey-t…
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Tears and Time Glistening Tears Crystalline Drops Streaming Alone Through Smiling Grooves Meeting Their Bed of Tissues like Flesh Leaves the Spirit to Depart From It Unable to Reverse It Nothing You Can Do The Drops of Reality in those Tissues... Could Water the Crops and Extinguish a Wildfire With Their... Painful & Somber Voyage. Ah but Now Those Tissues Become Like The Fabric of a Mother's Apron on a Sunny Afternoon. Oh... It Must Be Time To Play. 'Mother Mary Come's to Me Speaking Words of Wisdom... Let It Be." "La,la,la,la...."
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I don't have a poetic bone in my body(and I really do enjoy reading the poetry here), but a recent event which happened to me earlier this week during my lunch break inspired me to try my hand at this most cool haiku - so here goes: Flies on fresh dog doo squishing through my five bare toes should have stayed in bed not exactly enlightening or insightful (or"a heavy sense of Zen") but it does leave the reader with a vivid mental image..........lol and hope you are too :D PS. I was eating my daily refried bean sandwich when this happened and the irony was not lost on my laughing hyena coworkers.
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Promise Yourself... To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet. To make all your friends feel that there is something in them. To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true. To think of only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best. To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own. To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile. To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble. By Christian D. Larson
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My brothers, if someone is detectedby sin, you who live by the spirit should gently set him right, each of you trying to avoid falling into temptation himself. 2 Help carry one another's burdens; in that way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 3 If anyone thinks he amounts to something, when in fact he is nothing, he is only deceiving himself. 4 Each man should look to his conduct; if he has reason to boast of anything, it will be because the achievement is his and not another's. 5 Everyone should bear his own responsibility. 6 The man instructed in the word should all he has with his instructor. 7 Make no mistake about it, no one makes a fool of God! A man will reap only what he sows. 8 If he sows in in the field of flesh, he will reap a harvest of corruption; but if his seed-ground is the spirit, he will reap everlasting life. 9 Let us not grow weary of doing good; if we do not relax our efforts, in due time we shall reap our harvest. 10 While we have the opportunity, let us do good to all men --- especially those of the house-hold of faith. GALATIANS 6: 1-10 NAB 1970
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The loneliest sound I knowfalls like hail on a tin roof. Each stone leaves its dent. Less permanent: the clattering cacophony of Chicken Little's forecast come true. Once, my sky had fallen; my voice was erased. Now, all I can do is type.
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Thanks Mike,(My personal lament follows yours) When you purse your lips like that does your anus pucker up as well? When you arrogantly deny obvious reality Are worms gnawing holes in your brain? Do you honestly believe we Wouldn't rather have to deal with you? Landlords are the greatest advertisement for collective, communal co-habitation. Thanks again Mike- all credit to you!
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Thanks slo and Anna, but how would I like it to be credited? Two shy of a dozen formicidae, would do it, I'm thinking: By Ten Ants
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the cats don't knowwhat to think about the bats flying mice flickering shadows of night fall the cats sit alert eyes skyward ears rotoring tracking the bats high-pitched clicking flitting ravenously by
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LONE GOOSE The flocks of geese are Headed south Honking and screeching And forming into vees Flying all night alone Now the day breaks But he doent know it, he doesn't rest Or even slow down He's got to get back To his one true love The only one who Knows his sound He calls and calls As he flaps and flaps For he knows she Has many suitors And their bright feathers Might lure her away So the day breaks With a north wind And dense fluffy clouds And he honks her name And flaps and flaps.
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"They are like treesplanted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season without fail. Their leaves never wither, and in all they do, they prosper." -Psalm I:3 NLT Beautifully did Sunday morning become Sunday Afternoon. The Grateful Dead Hour Rocked the Repeat Function of no.1083. "In the end there's just a song..." "Gonna make em shine..." -Lovelight Intact- ~ sherbear, XO!
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Nice to see you back in the poet's hangout. You've been missed!
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Hey now. Hew now. Hai-ku Hai-ku all day. Joco mo fe no na na Oops. I ran out of syllables. Needed one more. Sucks when that happens.
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My girlfriend left me a prose note today, which I then arranged as lines of verse and added a title: Two Unshooed One fly in here and I swear the door was opened momentarily while carrying the litter out front Second fly in the front house not sure how that one got in
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GOOD HEART A GOOD HEART IS BOTH IMPORTANT AND EFFECTIVE IN DAILY LIFE. IF IN A SMALL FAMILY, EVEN WITHOUT CHILDREN, THE MEMBERS HAVE A WARM HEART FOR EACH OTHER, A PEACEFUL ATMOSPHERE WILL BE CREATED. HOWEVER, IF ONE OF THE PERSONS FEELS ANGRY, IMMEDIATELY THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE HOUSE BECOMES TENSE. DESPITE GOOD FOOD OR A NICE TELEVISION SET, YOU WILL LOSE PEACE AND CALM. THUS THINGS DEPEND MORE ON THE MIND THAN ON THE MATTER. MATTER IS IMPORTANT, WE MUST HAVE IT, WE MUST USE IT PROPERLY BUT IN THIS CENTURY WE MUST COMBINE A GOOD BRAIN WITH A GOOD HEART. H.H. THE XIV TH DALAI LAMA -------------------------------(-----@ Paper produced by hand and is a double dowel scroll with a hand- braided multi-colored string for hanging. Brought to my home from A World Peace Ceremony. Indeed, a wonderful mediation for All, xo.
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THE RIVER IS HERE Down the mountain the river flows, And it brings refreshing wherever it goes, Through the valleys and over the fields The river is rushing, and the river is here. The river of God sets our feet to dancing; The river of God fills our hearts with cheer; The river of God fills our mouths with laughter, And we rejoice for the river is here. By Andy Park
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What do you see while yougaze into a high mountain pool? Do you perceive the reflection of your exquisite Spirit? What do you feel while you tread the mossy carpet of a virgin forest? Do you feel the heartbeat of It's enchanted Sacred Ground? What do you know while you stare in wonder at the dark, stormy skies? Do you then know the forceful Power of the Great Spirit? What do you see? What do you feel? What do you know? May you acknowledge the voice within, and harken to its power and wisdom. -The Dawning Ember
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ParallaxProcessing
I am writing
about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

I was writing
about writing and
then I wrote
more about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb capitalized
first person singular pronoun past tense verb
adjective preposition gerund

I have written
about writing
and written writings
about those writings

capitalized first person singular pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund


You are reading
about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

You were reading
about reading and
then you read
more about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb second
person plural pronoun past tense verb adjective
preposition gerund

You have read
about reading
and read readings
about those readings

capitalized second person plural pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund
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Now I know why I never did well in English! Excellent poem with simmering symmetry!
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Purpose of This Letter This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you in which I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of a reminder, that you should remember the words spoken beforehand by the holy prophets and the command- ment of the Lord and Savior spoken to the apostles. Know this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, "Where is the promise of His coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation. For when they maintain this, it escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world was destroyed, being flooded by water. But by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgement and destruction of ungodly men. But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up. Since all these things are to be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be destroyed by burning, and the elements will melt with intense heat! But according to His promise we are looking for new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you look for these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless, and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things in which some are hard to understand, which the untaught and unable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard so that you are not carried away by the error of unprincipled men and fall from your own steadfastness, but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of, eternity. Amen. -2 PETER 3
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They say that a warren is a networkof interconnecting burrows, like a rabbit hole, hence, Haynes can be seen as a space into which we fall, like Alice tumbling, we watch as the composition of the whole flashes by while revealing its many notable parts, like Tears of a Clown, Norwegian Wood, Eleanor Rigby, Mountain Jam, and so much more as yet to be determined.
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Tend to have more have an intimate relationship with black ice... Stylish, low-profile crampons, anyone?
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A few years ago my wife and I were walking to a theater to see Lou Reed. I slipped on the blackest of black ice, landed square on my back. It hurt, a lot. Other folks -- complete strangers -- walking down the same sidewalk stopped to make sure that I was ok, helped me up, and so on. My wife? Barely able to stand herself...because she was laughing so hard. Apparently it was the funniest thing she's ever seen. She still talks about it. Thanks, sweetheart.
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there once was a band with a websitethat lett people chat all night with millions of topics including philanthropics but a motive of profit started to make it a bad fit and nobody named rhino could change it we're all left to wonder was it an IT blunder or deadhead rhinoids with heads split asunder that was driving their website under in retrospect so simple hire people who can make websites a wonder and stop the product/commercial blunder and you'll sell a shitload of product happily everafter before a bust of Jerry in alabaster plaster
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Unity in the Mystical Body I plead with you, then, as a prisoner for the Lord to live a life worthy of the calling you have received, 2 with perfect humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another lovingly. 3 Make every effort to preserve the unity which has the Spirit as its origin and peace as its binding force. 4 There is but one body and one Spirit, just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. 5 There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism; 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all, and works through all, and is in all. Ephesians 6: 1-6 NAB
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"though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night" -from her beautiful poem, "the old astronomer"
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God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise- so when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise -langston hughes
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We do not care-That much is clear. Not enough Of us care Anywhere. We are not wise- For that reason Mankind dies. To think Is much against The will. Better- And easier- To kill. -langston hughes' poem "war and wisdom"
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I For the longest while I didn't think I had anything to say. Then, it occurred to me that maybe the problem was there was no one I wanted to say anything to. Now, I'm not so sure, either way, but I'm listening more mindfully, and hearing words yet unspoken, again and again, and with such resounding clarity at times that I am moved to write the thoughts I think I have heard II Part of my reluctance, if you could call it that, to be my own bellringer for the longest while, it was decades if a day, arises from the knowledge, of which I am fairly certain following years of informal field research into the issue, that it has indeed all been said before, and probably said better than my meager poetic means will ever come to muster. I saw no point, then, in being derivative, knowing well that was all I would ever be. III Any self-imposed silence, I knew, would be unoriginal. But I was no Stoic in my having-nothing-to-say, nor would I ever be confused with a silently suffering saint. Even with not a thing to say, I always found injustices to make noise about, if only to draw attention to my plight, which, to my recollective secondary sight looks as unfocused as it was unfounded, but at the time it seemed real and imposing enough for me to raise a serious stink about. IV What gives a bell its tone is not simply the material of which the chime is cast, which, otherwise arranged, would only clank or clang. Rather, it is the void defined by the placement of material wherein emerges the ringing.
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LOVE is patient;live is kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable- or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, Love never ends. This is apart of a beautiful picture all set in pink roses in bloom that I had given my Dad long ago that has just came back to me. Sher-ing the love my Dad gave... to me, xo!
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Saved a blue jellybean todayFrom his arch-enemies Acid and enzymes Named him "Puddles" Put a collar on him And together we walked home Puddles has taken to his new Surroundings rather well And the neighbors just adore him But the only thing this Stubborn-ass, blue mule is good at Is "staying" So Puddles and I had a Heart-to-heart And cleared the air And from that gentle session, I learned If I breathe on Puddles just right.....just right He will ever so kindly oblige and "roll over" Awwwwwwwwwwwwww....... Sweet, blue Puddles You're a keeper -sl
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The Unknown Date It's of an uncontrollable time. There...just... to be waiting for Spring (sigh) I've not waited for the lush Earth the buds upon the Maple. I guess- ever, so I hath something new today in the cold. The frozen milky snow to all be drunk and the sweet breeze to dry the rocks and hills. Then on the true greens of the fertile soil the beginning of the end begins again.
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most often what I so dearly miss is that pure loving tender kiss the kind that came out of nowhere.. influenced by purpose the kind that could take a long day of my misery and melt it into a gently flowing stream of something other-worldly the kind that could make me feel like everything here on earth is exactly as everything should be the kind that softly silently profoundly cried out I love you and I care
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Full of mycelliumRichness of blue Comes right on cue.
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sittinghours on end glued to this screen ingesting beautiful poetry from the vault empty fridge laundry piled high blessed assured it's clearly all of you's thoughtful fault
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So beautiful are these writingsI've kept with a vast keeping of black and whites filled with greatness and nothingness- collectively. An excerpt from- THE PILLOW BOOK OF SEI SHONAGON TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY IVAN MORRIS I. In Spring It Is the Dawn In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud trail over them. In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how beautiful it is! In autumn the evenings, when the glittering sun sinks close to the edge of the hills and the crows fly back to their nests in threes and fours and twos; more charming still is a file of wild geese, like specks in the distant sky. When the sun has set, one's heart is moved by the sound of the wind and the hum of the insects. In winter the early morning. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost; or even when there is no snow or frost, but it is simply very cold and the attendants hurry from room to room stirring up the fires and bringing charcoal, how well this fits the season's mood! But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no one bothers to keep the braziers alight, and soon nothing remains but piles of white ashes. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS NEW YORK