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Post by zin on Jul 21, 2015 11:50:53 GMT -5
The Suns companions circle her soundlessly What can you add to the silence to complete it? Perhaps if the sages of old were to learn of the void? The surprise, the joy, the astonishment that would be anything but, maybe that The emptiness between the stars is so complete that it dances What could you add to the expanse to perfect it? Perhaps the Earth? A riot of now, a marvelous writhing tangle of trillions in movement, in life, maybe that **likes again** |
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Post by laughter on Aug 2, 2015 11:14:00 GMT -5
mind maps what moves
paper makes great kindling!
zen fans a fire
all but awareness burns
in a mad, beautiful and undulating dance, in the embrace of those around me, the ashes slip through a hole in my pocket
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Post by laughter on Sept 15, 2015 11:01:46 GMT -5
when you think 'I cannot meditate' listen .. read poetry if it helps or listen .. rustle, chirp swish, woosh nature is always talking poetry so listen .. pssttt now you are in meditation Mr. Zack Lee pauses and looks up from his crossword puzzle "hmmmmm ... nice day" something catches his eye as the scent of the fading summer echoes on his tongue "wow, were the leaves always that green?" "harummmph! .. 7 letter word for an overworked childless equine ... what the?? ...." (** scratches his head **) |
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Post by laughter on Sept 19, 2015 10:03:18 GMT -5
oh what to do, when one has no clue?
any direction is all imperfection uncertainty spreads just like an infection
a lash a dash a frantic rehash and amity it is just gone in a flash!
when in frustration it seems protestation
is the first option of an adoption of conflict ensuing just like an eruption
if we just breath the heart on our sleeve can relax and believe rather than cleave
when in the looking the mind it goes hooking
the colors go black with the head in a sack a shoe with a coner stuck there a tack
a hound will be found with bark of a sound annoying and anything but so profound
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Post by zin on Sept 22, 2015 16:31:25 GMT -5
To a Reason
A rap of your finger on the drum fires all the sounds and starts a new harmony.
A step of yours, the levy of new men and their marching on.
Your head turns away: O the new love!
Your head turns back, - O the new love!
"Change our lots, confound the plagues, beginning with time", to you these children sing. "Raise no matter where the substance of our fortune and our desires" they beg you.
Arrival of all time, who will go everywhere.
A. Rimbaud
translation: Louise Varese
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Post by laughter on Oct 24, 2015 5:15:29 GMT -5
Indirect knowing by memory and reason is the false that's seen as false.
Direct knowing with quiescent mind finds the ground of being.
When the work of the ax is done, nothing is known.
When nothing is known, all is lost.
When all is lost, the questions remain.
And the questioning, is met by laughter.
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Post by laughter on Nov 15, 2015 3:22:52 GMT -5
there is a bench with noone there on it moves no not one hare the breeze it blows oh right on through never finding me nor you the thoughts they come the thoughts they go falling drifting just like snow in silence they do find the ground and settle there without a sound no distance felt, there is no trace the rumble of a distant race fades to black as space surrounds an emptiness of depth profound body it does fall away no worries for another day floating, drifting always free nothing to know, nowhere to see there is a bench with noone there find it then and lose the care of what wasn't for a moment true that not me and that not you |
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Post by justlikeyou on Nov 15, 2015 7:48:54 GMT -5
there is a bench with noone there on it moves no not one hare the breeze it blows oh right on through never finding me nor you the thoughts they come the thoughts they go falling drifting just like snow in silence they do find the ground and settle there without a sound no distance felt, there is no trace the rumble of a distant race fades to black as space surrounds an emptiness of depth profound body it does fall away no worries for another day floating, drifting always free nothing to know, nowhere to see there is a bench with noone there find it then and lose the care of what wasn't for a moment true that not me and that not you Oh yes, "the bench" has meaning for you  Love the poem. |
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Post by zin on Nov 23, 2015 6:01:25 GMT -5
you are here where else could be what was ever always free? the chains were fake the cage a rumor no lock no bars just blinded humor in the open there you hear in free fall that all holds dear what comes and goes you can embrace without a weight that drags the race no hooks that bind no ropes that tie no hellos and no goodbyes but still the Sun it will yes rise now no need to shield your eyes yes a sting you still can feel with no question of the real yes a heart it still can break with no question of the fake move with love without a sound you never lost, you never found |
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Post by zin on Nov 23, 2015 6:05:04 GMT -5
*There are many versions of this poem (usually titled Eternity). I will add the translator when I find it.
Time Without End
We have found it again.
What? Time without end.
'Tis the ocean gone
For a walk with the sun.
Soul, you sentinel,
Murmur and confess,
Day is fiery hell,
Night is nothingness.
From the common urges,
From the human highest
Far thy path diverges:
Following thou fliest...
No expectancy,
No orietur,
Science patiently;
Punishment is sure.
From your blaze alone,
Satin flames of force,
Duty's breath is blown;
No one says: of course.
We have found it again.
What? Time without end.
'Tis the ocean gone
For a walk with the sun.
Arthur Rimbaud
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Post by charliegee on Nov 23, 2015 22:01:54 GMT -5
another way
my love burns a hole in my heart
and it bleeds for all to see
people ask me why I'm so open
I don't know another way
with the holidays coming up
I thank God for family . . .
for children and grandchildren
for brothers and friends . . .
they are my absolute joy
but on a cold November Monday
my heart bleeds another color
one of pain, one of loss
the light blends with the dark
casting shadows of sadness
and hues of joy . . .
I could live with either
love is found in both
a love I share with all
please don't ask me why
I don't know another way
CG 11/23/15
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Post by zin on Nov 24, 2015 3:49:04 GMT -5
Good to see you, Charlie.
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Post by laughter on Nov 24, 2015 9:25:33 GMT -5
Oh yeah it is. Happy Thanksgiving Chazz!
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Post by charliegee on Nov 24, 2015 15:52:11 GMT -5
thanks guys .. good to see you too ..
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Post by charliegee on Nov 24, 2015 15:52:52 GMT -5
a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup
you're my cup of coffee
your aroma wakens me
your taste lingers in my mouth
long after I have swallowed
you're my jolt of caffeine
stirring me to greater heights
of love and everlastingness
I love you more with each sip
you're my morning nectar
my mid-day fount of joy
you're my evening potion
I need you more and more
and with a buttered biscuit
you complement and thrill
don't know what I'd do without you
the thought just scares me so
though that's my new reality
you've gone to god knows where
I sit alone without you . . .
just calling out your name
guess I'll have another cup
its all I know to do . . .
stir my brew and drink it down
and spill some tears for you
cg 11/24/15
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Love the poem.