Category: poetry

The loss of self

When we absent ourselves from presence in this life
When we dwell more on pictures in our minds
It neither matters if they feed our wish for strife
Or whether they fill needs of better kinds.
We know that wish fulfilment comes in dreams
And also in our fantasies by day
Anxious worry fills our mind with schemes
Guilt and shame impede us from our play.
Creative thought requires the loss of self,
And needs our empty soil to plant its gifts
So throw out selfish fancies for this wealth
Wel’l let ourselves be slow so mind can shift
To waste our days in suffering or false pleasure,
Is to give   up what is true but can’t be measured.

To unwind slow

What kind of camera shows the changing light
Upon the yellow blossom as it waves?
The wind has dropped ,the breeze is here, but slight
And on the flowers I in languor gaze

The red leaves of the acers now unfurl-
Two side by side but different in their glow.
The light accentuates  them as they curl
And so gives them the time to unwind slow.

Without the breeze the colour is  varies less.
It’s flatter, less like Monet, yet still bright.
And as a grey cloud  sags across the West
It puts my dreams of colour into flight.

Yearn not for special tools to catch the world.
Just watch a single leaf as it unfurls

In the sun

Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow;

they bloom,
are gone.

With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.

May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.

So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.

Then my time will come like yours...
And of us nothing shall endure.

As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so

God helps those who help them selves to most

Autumn 2013 008

No human being comforts my sore heart

No human being looks with favor on my doubts.

Yet still I ate a tasty  apple tart

And went to bed in nothing but a clout.

No human being loves me as I am

No human being wants to comfort me.

Yet still  today  I shall have cakes and jam.

And drink ten   mugs of  boiling  China tea.

No human being looks inside my soul

No human being  cares about my cares.

Yet still today I’ll eat a bacon roll.

And spray some perfume on my golden hair

For God helps those who help themselves to most.

So I shall  talk with his lamented Ghost

Love shall be our song

 

English: Buttercup meadow The shorter creeping...
English: Buttercup meadow The shorter creeping buttercups (Ranunculus repens) are most popular in this field however patches of the much taller meadow buttercup (Ranunculus acris) are abundant. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Underneath the deep sky,darling,
You shall be the one.
You were with me in the dark
When all the rest were gone.

When the trees grow their green leaves,
I’ll love you all night long.
When the flowers fill the cornfields
Love shall be our song.

Poppies red.and linseed blue
Shall decorate my dress.
Hold me in your arms tonight
While I my love confess.

Meadows filled with buttercups
Fill my inner eye.
I love the scent of minty leaves
When my mind is all awry.

I see the sun through closed eye lids
And rose scent’s in the air.
Wherever summer joy comes from….
We have had our share

To me three Angels did appear,

A sharp pain woke me from my sleep.
Inside my soul there was a gap.
I tried to make it disappear;
To get it off my map.

But still the ache persisted;
I tried hard to forget;
Till I sat down in my garden chair,
And stayed with my upset.

The sun may shine,
the birds may sing
But that to me
no pleasure brings
Because of my regret.

As I sat still upon my chair
To me three Angels did appear,
And they are with me yet.

They took my heart into their care,
With golden threads they are sewing there,
Until the work’s complete.

My task is just to sit quite still.
And let God’s angels do His Will,
As I sit here at Her Feet.

Old trees astonished into bud

The pathway to the heart is   found by love.
And those who  find this, will obey their call.
Though virtue and her graces smile above,
We see steep paths ahead;cliffs’  sudden fall.

With willingness to cross  land deep in mud,
To struggle through the tangled thorny woods
Our soul within points to the latent good;
Recalls old trees astonished into bud.

As flowers  spread to  gently press our toes
Encouragement is with much joy received;
And as we smell the fragrance of the rose,
At last we know our souls were not deceived.

For Virgil,fortune favours steadfast feet.
The journey may be long,the end is sweet.

 

Love lies

With foresight we may see  where  problems lurk
And  root them out before they start to grow
Yet often life’s mysteriously dark
And what we reap is  what another sowed.

In hindsight,  this seems obvious and plain.
But some can  pick the  true out with no pain
Yet others choose  their fantasy again
They amble down a cheerful sunny lane.

Though what is real may not be what we wish
Better truth that hurts  than lies  that charm
Reality is not an easy  choice
Yet falsehood  will mislead and even harm.

Insight grows with patient watching eyes
In the end, the truth is where love lies.

I am fired

I’m out of sorts and into parts
I’m out of sense and into hearts
I’m out of sorts and never start
I wish I’d  baked a courgette tart.

The weather is a ghastly farce
If this is April,I’m on Mars.
The rain it raineth every day
I wonder when  we’ll make some hay.

I’m out of sorts and  into spares
I’m out of mind and into cares.
I’m out of sorts and hurt  and tired
If I’m the boss then I am fired

With Spring In Our Flesh by Don Welch

***

American Life in Poetry: Column 579

BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE

Early each spring, Nebraska hosts, along a section of the Platte River, several hundred thousand sandhill cranes. It’s something I wish everyone could see. Don Welch, one of the state’s finest poets, lives under the flyway, and here’s his take on the migration. His most recent book is Gnomes, (Stephen F. Austin State Univ. Press, 2013).

With Spring In Our Flesh

With spring in our flesh
the cranes come back,
funneling into a north
cold and black.
And we go out to them,
go out into the town,
welcoming them with shouts,
asking them down.
The winter flies away
when the cranes cross.
It falls into the north,
homeward and lost.
Let no one call it back
when the cranes fly,
silver birds, red-capped,
down the long sky.

The music of silence

trees swirl

I didn’t hear you coming,
then you were by my side.
Happiness fills me.
Standing in the garden
looking at red leaves,
I hold your hand gently,
and share the sweetness
of these green leaves,
the distant doves cooing,
the sun dipping to the horizon.
Life is good.
We hear together
the music
of this silence

For violins of gypsies I do pray.

When  mere  genius and expert  create art
And commoners  no  longer  sing and play
Then in this world I wish to play no part
For violins of gypsies I do pray.

Folk dances and melodies  divine
To the public  people once  belonged
On Feast Days we all met  with joy again
With   roasted pig and  cider we did sing.

Society is now truly at  its end
Our rain water to Spanish banks belongs.
Can we into hell further  descend
While famous tenors ravish us with song?

My reservoir is empty and I’m sick;
For all we had is taken by   these tricks

Fruits exotic

Next year in  Eden  sweet I  hope to  be.
Tasting pears and apples in delight,
Or fruits exotic I have not yet seen
And other glories now hidden from sight.

Yet, for now, I struggle on my way
As if  uncertain whether it is right.
Must I ,alone, decide the price to pay,
And stumble in the weeds in dim twilight?

At times I search  my dreams   for their insight
Or, as if blind, ignore a potent sign.
Anxiety and doubt bring me no light.
To shades and shadows I must be resigned.

Faith and hope we keep  or we shall die.
Can Love itself be nothing but a lie?

The pain

IMG_0044

 

Sometimes I had my eye too close to the keyhole
Pulled there by some force like gravity.

I was gazing with a sharp but narrow focus

into what I thought was the real.

But the precision of my gaze

left out the surroundings, the other doors and rooms

that  I might have inhabited.

As he came to me and opened his arms with no rancour,,

so my eyes opened wider,I took in the new wide vision

and left my crouched and aching position

no longer attached like a magnet to your force.

He was there with his sea eyes.

He knew the human condition

And how to inhabit a  conversation.

Of course he’s had his wounds but never failed to feel

for himself and others.

In the night he went through in his mind’s eye the faces

of his friends;holding them ,like he’d once held fragile rose buds

when we were married,

and asked silently for grace.

The keyhole no longer seemed important

I suppose narrowing the focus can keep out knowledge of pain..

But the pain is atill there;

I have always loved the word “Acknowledge.”
And now I use it. I acknowledge this pain

I gaze up through red maple leaves

 In summer time when sun do shine
I'm happy on my own

I gaze up through red maple leaves

All transparent in the sun.

 

But when winter comes I'm lonely

Sitting here beside my fire.

So I want a winter lover

To keep my spirits higher.

 

Oh,my winter love come to me

And I'll gaze deep into your eyes

The light that shines in there

Is so much warmer than my fire.

 

We'll go through wintry woodlands,

Where elegance lies bare.

The branches warmed by sun

Now feel the frosty grasp of air.

 

I'll love you all the winter time.

I'll love you in the dark.

I'd like to rest within your arms,

And have a peaceful talk

 

When summer comes I'll disappear

To roam across the dales

I'll sleep on heather moorlands

And send you loving mail.

 

I can't be tied in summer-time

I must be roaming free.

But ,if you accept this  need of mine,

To you I'll faithful be.

 

A heart like a cold stone

Have you ever had a dream,
That you were all alone?
Have you lived with someone handsome,
With a heart like a cold stone?
Have you drowned in deep,cold rivers,
And been lost in shadowed caves?
Have you lived with too much fusion,
Till you drowned in ghostly waves?
The waves run down the sea shore,
Then up they come once more.
The tide turns and life alters..
Deep on that ocean floor.
You were so beautiful and silent,
Like a sword without its sheath.
I should have let you take me,
The way you took away my breath

The heart of darkness

Indifference tolls the knell of  humankind
So easy just to turn our eyes  away
We often self deceive   or  mimic  blind;
So Hitler goosestepped,as foolish Pope  but prayed

How bright the candlelight on Christmas trees
And  tender children  widen  joyous eyes
Yet for  the other,we will hear no pleas.
At every heartbeat  “foreign” babies die..

Can we love any but those who share our genes,
What sense the  tale of  Arab aiding Jew?
Is the underlying truth not seen?
As Jesus said the chosen are but few

We  split the world into a double view;
The good, the bad,the  heart of darkness slew.

I carried him alone

(0 minutes ago)
 
So you are gone  who once declared your love
Alas  for phantasm conjured in your mind
For onto me you brought down from above
A torment bitter and   your words unkind.
Used to  friendship from within your books
You did not understand that I was real
Irritation grew as  fierce  you looked;
You threw your poisoned  arrows  at my heel.
What once you loved then you began to hate
If not perfect then intolerable I must be
And then you cursed me with this  sorry fate
Our child was born and him you’d never see.
Illegitimate and born in desert grey.
I carried him alone from death’s dark rays

May my grieving

Afflicted by the honour of your death
Both grief and privilege to attend you there
Afflicted by  emotions,short of breath
I weep for now I sadly miss your care.

Responsible for taking you  to death
And freely letting go of my desires
Tears like a very sheet  my face impressed.
After  He extinguished your fires.

Now with my older loves you dwell elsewhere
And  I , now suffering, linger in my lair.
Will you send me comfort  so I bear
The burden of  our grief without despair

For as in winter worms toil in the earth
Msy my grieving bring me to spring’s birth

When thou hast stripped my heart

When thou hast stripped my   heart  of all its skin
And left me to the wolves  to be consumed
Shall I ask what was my mortal sin,
And hast thou never thought I was redeemed?

The pains I suffer I am loth to take
For I have thrashed been in thy machines
And no more can my little heart now break;
As fragmented it giveth forth its screams.

Yet should I be unwilling to accept?
Is it not the case that thou  made me?
So  shall I sin if I thy will reject,
Not knowing how to live and how to be?

The mystery of suffering is too dark
When shall I see thy living golden spark?

 

Like a blade of grass

 

Already it’s the middle of the month.

That is usually when I think of you
Walking by the river,the path green
With moss and small grass blades.
Is that your shadow across the window?
I still expect you though you’re long gone.
Damply trudging through the meadow,
Hand in hand we never noticed the cold,
Though my fingers were painful with chilblains.
I don’t see you any more,nor the chilblains.
Would I walk on knives for you
Like the girl in the fairytale,No.
But almost anything else.
Sand runs through my fingers,
I’m a human timer,though not for eggs,
But for love,my time is running out.
Though even in a moment one can receive love
In the smile of a stranger.
Why should love not be short
Like a grass blade?
Or tiny like a grain of sand?
Dante only saw Beatrice once,
But it sustained his life for ever.
That’s worth dwelling on

My senses are my lovers long-

 

A map’s a guide to find a world

Knitted by angels  and unfurled.

And though you need a map as guide,

Keep your own eyes open wide.

I spent a year caught in a map

Until I found a big enough gap.

I crawled out through this exit slit,

So here I am,like some half wit.

Words can act like heroin,

You live so high ,where I have been.

But onto earth I gladly fall.

The air, the sun, the rain is all.

My senses are my lovers long-

My ears,my eyes,my skin my tongue.

The winds caress my naked flesh,

To dwell on earth is all I wish.

I’ll live with mice and birds and plants,

I’ll share my food with miscreants

I’ll keep my words inside a tin;

And only, now and then,go in.

I’ll live with cats and spiders three.

And like a wild flower grow quite free.

I’ ll give my words to those who hear,

And eventually I’ll disappear

Earth to earth then ash to ash

When soaked with rain I shall disperse.

My atoms wing like butterflies,

And to the Flower I’ll fly,disguised.

Rhapsodic,lengthy,terse.

We’re told it helps to write thoughts down;
Express our grief  somehow;
And if our  feelings are intense,
These words  from deep springs flow.

A sonnet or terza rima
A ballad or free verse.
We have a choice of many forms
Rhapsodic,lengthy,terse.

A practised poet may be blessed
Or so the lay-folk feel
But gifts come with a price to pay:
Experience must be real.

She wrote down all  her grief and woe
By symbols dignified.
The poems received an awed review.
The poet it was who died.

 

Your tender hands

 

 

I have loved you and I’ve held you.
Many years,you have been mine;
As the time has come for parting
Let’s embrace for one last time.

You know you have to leave me,
Though you desired a longer stay.
Let me hold you in my arms now
For just tonight and perhaps one day.

Then I’ll watch you travel on,sweet.
We take this last step all alone.
I’ll be here beside you watching.
I shall feel when you are gone.

May you accept, may you surrender.
May  you reach the promised land.
Into this earth my tears will fall, love,
As I recall your tender hands

Endings take time

A baby too soon shocked from mother’s womb
May linger on for several painful days.
The life force is as strong as is a lion;
And infants too are subject to its sway.
A tree cut down when full of summer leaves
Will struggle on and take a month to die.
And so it is with friendship which is scorned;
Our grief takes time to dissipate and fly.
Bereft of love and child and human touch,
Be careful when you slip from human grasp.
The knife that pierced the heart will cause no gain;
And should we live we feel a bitter pain.
Though cunning wiles and tricks may give the lie,
When you have used them,your  heart too will die.


Ersatz raps

This is meant to be read aloud… it’s a sound poem.I made up some words too..

Source: K

Oh,I see the wolf listening..he’s so gentle or is he decentral?
Oh,Ah,kerbumplof.
Shrieks,calling for mate
Bang my soul up
In your bedroom
Ker pluf
Thor.War
Storms of lightning
Hail you
AAAAAAhhhhhhhhh
Me,oh,me oh,me stuck here in my groove
Give me electric shocks;the silent treatment.Sulk for me, please,Argentina.
Screech,scream,I felt you watching.
Touch me with a feather
Dust me!
Glug!
I see the wasps round your coat
They hug you and nip your neck
Bong!
Don’t come near me again
Wolves are not
Welcome!
I sigh for mein mutter
She’s a nutter,
utter
Sob
Scream
nightmare
Thud!
You hate me!
Never call again when you’re already here
You are not welcome.
I close my door
on your foot boot
Oh,yes.
Thunder and lightening
Go home now
This is a poem as likely
ill conceived
Eagle flies while I am
Falling down a mountain…
Scree burning.
I never want to see you again,babe.My duck.
Please be a love and leave me.Cheers
That’s ok.I understand you.
Asp,gasp
Per bot fly!
No thud
No dach
sounds whimper.
It’s time for my tea and biscuit
I cooked it twice
but you were
ab ab a aaab aa absent aahaa
sent!
No.No.no
I can’t believe you!
Cut this string and let it all hang out again
Oh,bogger.Go to bed
Now
How
Mein eschreitschzung.Flightschzung.Nachtschzung
blung.blung
blot me out
I’m an ink stain.
I like your fingers, so clean and curving
I’ll mark you and give you homework
Och,aye
It’s well come
Crooning mouse traps
See Rockefeller
drop out and
Bring a bag of sylvia plath’s
scrap paper.
did she know?
Did she know?
Did she sweat
Bang?
Thud.My sky fell in onto the millpond
Don’t smoke near me
I’ll get burned
For I hate you
Or just want your hat and an E for
flatness
Droom,droom
Dee
Bag
bug
Ted went to bed
where he spent his honeymoon
with another woman
Not with the second one
Mathilda
It’s finished us all off
Brang.Blong
Eschreitchzung
Fleightschztung
Herr Meightschrung!

The eyes of love

They lay down in awe and fear,
Of what their love was bringing near.
They gazed into each others eyes
And so did tantalise.

 

They lay down to gaze into
the eyes and soul of one who’s true.
They gazed until ,when overcome,
They were united into one.

Their souls and bodies were conjoined,
And thus their hearts were well entwined;
As honeysuckle on the walls,
In joy’s sweet arbours does grow tall.
Their loving lips and eyes and hands
Gave pause to time’s soft flowing sands.
and as they touched and gazed and longed,
The birds sang out in glorious songs.

Which is me and which is you?
Are we one or are we two?
I give you all myself today,
So this shall be our way

We must be incarnate

So much depends on mood and time of day

We interpret or mis-shape what we perceive.

The sun may shine to show a better way

Or absent that,a transient cloud deceive.

 

No lowing herds wind down our oil fumed  roads.

Tranquillity at dusk has disappeared.

With artificial light the daytime mode’s

 Prolonged and reverie’s  most feared.

 

To   truly live,we must be incarnate. 

God himself has paid the price alone.

For time misspent we do not get rebate.

As,like the leaves in wind,away we’re blown.

 

To live  aright perception must be clear;

Including in its breadth all that we fear.
march-2012-0491


When our spirit dwells in our body we are incarnate.Some of us don't 
feel we are fully incarnate.The negative view of the body in does not help.

 

The proud man feels a deep disdain

The proud man feels a deep disdain
For those whose life has not seen gain
He feels he’s made his own great pile
From his own talent   and his guile

Yet vulnerable to ills and pains
Are all humans and their gains.
No-one is in full control
Of themself or earth or  soul.

And why despise a humble man
Who works as hard as any can?
In a  coal mine or  the docks
Tending goats and sheep in flocks.

 

Remember Job and how he fell?
None’s immune  though he feel well.
At least  treat  all with  some respect
Even those in tatters decked.

I feel at one with nature green

When wanderings take the restless mind
To places peace can never find,
When imaginations linked to fear
Push tranquillity away.
To my green garden I must go
And let my mind and thoughts go slow.
I look up at maples in the breeze,
See sunlight dappled through their leaves.
I see the apples hanging down
And blackbirds peck them on the ground.
I see the hawthorn berries ripe
Upon the hedge in gold sunlight.
And then my soul is brought to earth
Peacefulness is given birth
I feel at one with nature green,
And all that is just now unseen
So back to everyday routines
Without “what for?” ” what might have been”
All is well and shall be so
Wherever we may chance to go.

Xenophobia sounds like an ill

Xenophobia  sounds like an ill;
A disease  independent of will.
In animals  a defence
In humans some sense
As a stranger’s unpredictable still

Yet “phobia” sounds excessively strong
A defence over-done till it’s wrong.
Caution’s sufficient
When sense is deficient.
They’ll be sisters and brothers ere long.

As animals we don’t wish to share
The food and the money that’s here.
Better  ponder with care,
To see what is fair.
Or the ill-will  unleashed will  be bare.

Our natural instincts are tamed
Over-doing that makes us maimed
As Freud indicated
A theory vindicated
Sex labelled sin  has defamed.

Can  we  each find a good middle way
Which permits some fun and some play?
And enough intellect
To surely detect
Who is our real enemy?