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Post by laughter on Jul 21, 2012 10:33:40 GMT -5
Don't want to pepper Charlies "poetry" thread .... I stumbled onto it when I joined up only later noticing the breathtaking scale of it and the work of it for what it was as a whole.
On the other hand, Charlie, please feel free to riff with me either here or there .... that goes for anyone else as well.
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Post by laughter on Jul 21, 2012 10:36:00 GMT -5
Tuesdays and Saturdays not much to do today it's my day off from watching my granddaughters slept in, woke up at 9:00 AM to the sickening news of that shooting spree in a Denver theater I know we've seen these kind of thing before but it seems we've turned a corner crossed the line somehow how he threw the cannister and stood on the stage blasting away like he was part of the movie and maybe in his mind, he was another Batman villain this one spilling real blood ending real lives I won't be going to see that movie anytime soon not that it matters what I do anyway, after hanging out most of the day I left for the bank and to run a few errands thinking about all this about love and loss life and death there I was, bags in hand nearing home at last singing Suite for Judy Blue Eyes in the rain... charlie gee 7/20/12 Yes Sometimes it hurts So badly That we must cry out loud |
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Post by laughter on Jul 21, 2012 10:42:34 GMT -5
rising up like stars we emerge from the dust heap rubbing our eyes in wonder unaware of our beauty in god's eyes rising up like stars there is not much we understand even less that we know still, we are grateful rising up like stars we were born amidst the ashes broken by the toils of life blessed by adversity rising up like stars we know loss, we practice love imperfectly to be sure that is our drawing card rising up like stars we yearn for heaven strive to recreate it here for those we honor and love rising up like stars tattered saints bloody and tarnished nevertheless we are rising up like stars charlie gee 7/21/12 The senseless beauty of nothing So subtle as to be easily missed The din, the roil, the passion … the sturm and drang Not so subtle Easy to be tricked Easy to be misled The madness at our root grows wild Nurtured by the cynical Tended by the jaded Ignored by the timid and weak Tolerated by the despairing What words? What actions? What could have stood between him and they? Blood comes from stardust Blood is not everywhere and nowhere Blood uncontained is an infinity that slips away What warning? What sign? What voice? Tears come from stardust Tears always land on a cheek Tears unshed are an opportunity lost The boundless beauty of everything Not seen as to look would drown out the din Right before the eyes and yet invisible The only thing under the feet and yet not felt How can we craft the invitation to see it? To feel it? To hear it? How to interrupt the din with a whisper? How to water stardust? |
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Post by charliegee on Jul 21, 2012 11:31:36 GMT -5
wow, thanks laughter... I am touched...
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Post by charliegee on Jul 21, 2012 11:32:50 GMT -5
Dark K(night) Rising
maybe its just me
but something about
the Denver killing spree
is particularly unnerving
of course anything
of this nature shakes us
to the core, we wonder
what the hell is going on
seems our obsession
with darkness
has hit critical mass
we wallow in it
that our culture
is woefully flawed
isn't hard to see
but who makes up the culture?
don't know about you
but I have no desire
to see this film
it seems wrong to do so
it's not that I'm blaming
the film either
the darkness pervades
everything anyhow
where are the bearers of light
the beacons of love
extolling hope and peace
could be I'm just a romantic
an idealist
inventing a happier past
when things were hunky-dory
could be...
still
you can give me
the Batman of yore
complete with sidekick, Robin
Boom...Kaplow...Crash...
charlie gee 7/21/12
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Post by charliegee on Jul 21, 2012 11:41:05 GMT -5
a slight correction... the poem should have been titled 'Thursdays and Saturdays'... cheers
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Post by silver on Jul 21, 2012 12:24:17 GMT -5
No pity for the dreamers
A bird in flight on a windy night
gives pause to all that matters.
To all who brave the wrath of God
and dance while moonlight shatters
and falls like daggers come the dawns
that splinter when they break
to cast a spell...
but tend to dwell
a moment in it's wake.
Crystal sounds of winter nights.
A petal in the snow
lost in dreams of summers bright
and basking in the glow.
To solitude that lets us dream
to hope that sets us free.
To the lion in the city
and the prisoner on the open sea.
You're everything that matters
You're all that matters to me.
What - an awesome one, CG. So good, it's scary~* The opening lines> A bird in flight on a windy night gives pause to all that matters. To all who brave the wrath of God and dance while moonlight shatters ...simply brought to mind something I saw one early evening on a gray, windy day. (I've always admired crows greatly and this, combined with the fact I'd lost my young adult son on Valentine's Day of 2010, made this otherwise unremarkable observation special.) Crows usually travel together - the birds never seem to be alone. He seemed determined to go as high as he could with plenty of assist from the winds. So, when I saw a lone crow way up high in the gray clouds, seeming to go ever higher. I could not help but wonder - is this the cosmos' way of acknowledging the loss of my son? Maybe this forum isn't the 'kind' where people talk about stuff like this, but your poem(s) inspire me greatly and thanks to laughter, I have a place to express this thing. Being very new here, I hope this is acceptable. I was totally mesmerized by what I saw as I walked out to my car and just stood there, watching and wondering what is he doing and why. I have received what many refer to as 'signs' or 'visitations' and so on, since he passed. |
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Post by living on Jul 21, 2012 12:51:58 GMT -5
What - an awesome one, CG. So good, it's scary~* The opening lines> A bird in flight on a windy night gives pause to all that matters. To all who brave the wrath of God and dance while moonlight shatters ...simply brought to mind something I saw one early evening on a gray, windy day. (I've always admired crows greatly and this, combined with the fact I'd lost my young adult son on Valentine's Day of 2010, made this otherwise unremarkable observation special.) Crows usually travel together - the birds never seem to be alone. He seemed determined to go as high as he could with plenty of assist from the winds. So, when I saw a lone crow way up high in the gray clouds, seeming to go ever higher. I could not help but wonder - is this the cosmos' way of acknowledging the loss of my son? Maybe this forum isn't the 'kind' where people talk about stuff like this, but your poem(s) inspire me greatly and thanks to laughter, I have a place to express this thing. Being very new here, I hope this is acceptable. I was totally mesmerized by what I saw as I walked out to my car and just stood there, watching and wondering what is he doing and why. I have received what many refer to as 'signs' or 'visitations' and so on, since he passed. This is very cool, silver. Welcome to the board.  |
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Post by silver on Jul 21, 2012 14:03:10 GMT -5
Thx living. I appreciate the warm welcome.
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Post by enigma on Jul 21, 2012 18:13:26 GMT -5
No pity for the dreamers
A bird in flight on a windy night
gives pause to all that matters.
To all who brave the wrath of God
and dance while moonlight shatters
and falls like daggers come the dawns
that splinter when they break
to cast a spell...
but tend to dwell
a moment in it's wake.
Crystal sounds of winter nights.
A petal in the snow
lost in dreams of summers bright
and basking in the glow.
To solitude that lets us dream
to hope that sets us free.
To the lion in the city
and the prisoner on the open sea.
You're everything that matters
You're all that matters to me.
What - an awesome one, CG. So good, it's scary~* The opening lines> A bird in flight on a windy night gives pause to all that matters. To all who brave the wrath of God and dance while moonlight shatters ...simply brought to mind something I saw one early evening on a gray, windy day. (I've always admired crows greatly and this, combined with the fact I'd lost my young adult son on Valentine's Day of 2010, made this otherwise unremarkable observation special.) Crows usually travel together - the birds never seem to be alone. He seemed determined to go as high as he could with plenty of assist from the winds. So, when I saw a lone crow way up high in the gray clouds, seeming to go ever higher. I could not help but wonder - is this the cosmos' way of acknowledging the loss of my son? Maybe this forum isn't the 'kind' where people talk about stuff like this, but your poem(s) inspire me greatly and thanks to laughter, I have a place to express this thing. Being very new here, I hope this is acceptable. I was totally mesmerized by what I saw as I walked out to my car and just stood there, watching and wondering what is he doing and why. I have received what many refer to as 'signs' or 'visitations' and so on, since he passed. The poem is a testament to courage and perseverance, in whatever form life expresses that. Maybe a good counterbalance to the neti-neti nothingness we like to talk about. |
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Post by charliegee on Jul 21, 2012 23:26:03 GMT -5
rising up like stars
we emerge from the dust heap
rubbing our eyes in wonder
unaware of our beauty in god's eyes
rising up like stars
there is not much we understand
even less that we know
still, we are grateful
rising up like stars
we were born amidst the ashes
broken by the toils of life
blessed by adversity
rising up like stars
we know loss, we practice love
imperfectly to be sure
that is our drawing card
rising up like stars
we yearn for heaven
strive to recreate it here
for those we honor and love
rising up like stars
tattered saints
bloody and tarnished
nevertheless
we are rising up like stars
charlie gee 7/21/12
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Post by silver on Jul 21, 2012 23:31:09 GMT -5
You're making me cry, Charlie ~ a good cry.
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Post by charliegee on Jul 22, 2012 11:17:09 GMT -5
well, that's a good thing Silver... a good cry always is... I cry ten times a day at the very least and they are all good crys...
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Post by laughter on Jul 22, 2012 11:42:22 GMT -5
love ... starting to think the more you love something ... the easier you let it go ... not that you want it to go but eventually out of love you release it with your blessing thankful for the time you had ~ grateful that you were privileged to ever love at all it is such a gift such a responsibility at the end of the day at the close of a life to be able to say I loved and was loved really ... what ever could be finer ... CG 9/8/10 The difference between love and lust is found in the remainder Can you see yourself in the eyes of a stranger? To move or not to move To do or not to do But ... to love or not to love? Is there really a question there? Why are you here? Why am I here? Why doesn't she love me? Doesn't she? Is there really a question here? Cardboard cut-outs seek revenge They might think they feel false passion But the fire inside would burn them down in seconds flat The opposite of love isolates bifricates duplicates diminuates shakes hates and is so so so much less that late Love is all there is? Is there really any question about this? |
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Post by charliegee on Jul 22, 2012 11:55:04 GMT -5
nicely done laughter
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