|
Post by Apsara on Jan 13, 2010 12:08:28 GMT -5
Choice
You will not remain still so there is no place to land. You refuse to be solid so there is no place from which to launch.
So, I find myself in the forest crawling upon my belly praying for some leaves to stick to me scraping against trees hoping to leave a scent looking for the right time searching for the right voice to jump up and claim the forest as my territory...mine my words make it so... but in all the wonders of the natural world choice is consistently persistently absent.
I mourn the loss of choice the way a woman misses breastfeeding her children my body missing the close warmth my hands bereft of the swaddled wondrous things that I prayed would become strong and tall beliefs that would prove how I had raised them right.
But they’ve all grown up.... and left home.
I have an empty nest.
I bless its absence the way an army celebrates the retreat of an enemy. For when choice was in occupation there was no peace that one could count on and it would make no treaties with the present moment.
It has become the blessed thing that I feel ebb out of me when God rushes in when I grab my singing bowl and the dowel starts spinning choice whirls into nothingness swirls into the oblivion of vibration.
It is what leaves me when I am slowly smoothing the surface of mala beads, the smell of sandalwood trumps choice everytime and I praise the ensuing peace in one hundred and eight ways three hundred and sixty five days.
Yes, I still look around for choice like one looks for the dearly departed expecting to see them swearing they are just there on the periphery.
And I will continue crying when I cannot find choice because a loss this large deserves a funeral and because mostly because I have no choice.
|
|
|
Post by skyblue on Jan 13, 2010 17:07:41 GMT -5
Your poetry really speaks to me Aspara. Keep them coming!
|
|
|
Post by zendancer on Jan 15, 2010 11:55:22 GMT -5
Apsara: Rather than posting every poem on a separate thread, why don't you add new poems to the same thread? That way anyone visiting the site can see all of the recent topics at a glance, and the rest of us can add poems to the same poetry thread. Just a thought. Cheers.
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 7, 2010 21:48:04 GMT -5
The Sadness
I was/born into it/the sadness/what did I know ~ I was just a kid/with the normal/exuberance/any kid would have ~ they/went to work/on me/slowly ~ imperceptibly/hell, they didn't/even know/they were doing it ~ they were/born into it/themselves/the sadness ~ over time/it takes root/the seed/once planted ~ stays around/forever/flattening/every thing in it's path ~ everything/becomes somber/serious/sad ~ and you/grow up/and you teach it/to your kids ~ there is/almost no way out/almost/no means of escape ~ there is a way/I tell you this/and I tell you true ~ the way out/is the way in/you go deeper/into the sadness ~ without judgment/without concern/for a result/and you trust ~ trust that God/knows what the hell/is going on/cause you damn sure don't ~ and gently/inexplicably/inconceivably/the sadness burns ~ burns itself out/and you with it/and you rise/amid the ashes ~ with new eyes/and a new heart/and rush to tell others/the sadness ~ the sadness/you feel/just/doesn't have to be ~ it just doesn't have to be ....
Charlie Gee 5/5/10
|
|
|
Post by enigma on Jul 7, 2010 23:00:03 GMT -5
Wow!
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 8, 2010 6:25:26 GMT -5
the wind
lived for a spell in what could be not that far from what once was and though it was pleasant or seemed so at the time it felt so confining everybody busy but no one really doing anything but looking to and fro back and forth like they were at some tennis match double faults ... were the order of the day I had to get out didn't know how then life threw me a curveball right there, on the black and I was caught looking I packed my things that very day moved on, moved out to a tiny town edge of the desert quiet, peaceful at times turbulent at others sparsely populated people there are different keep to themselves mostly will help if help is needed yeah, moved to what is not much straining to keep up ... cause really keep up with what? the wind blows where it will ... where it will ... CG 7/8/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 8, 2010 22:19:22 GMT -5
that knowledge
I ... seek to raid the dawn sleep in the tall, wet grass until the sun rises and dries up my sins want to spend afternoons in search of treasure or truth or nothing at all hoping the night brings darkness so bright, so black as to bring a holy blindness certainly know nothing is certain and finds strange comfort in that ... August approaches and year's end still the bird sings still the sun rises I ... am pleased with that knowledge Charlie Gee 6/26/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 8, 2010 22:51:54 GMT -5
here
there is grace under fire there is life in the ruins tears fall to the ground to nurture and heal to reveal the light that cloaks itself in darkness that grows in silence time stands still frozen, emptied of content of idea, thought grief reaches it's crescendo of pain screams and groans fade to cries and whimpers soft sobs then peace ... it is over fists unclench brows unfurrow soft breathing replaces hurried gasps slow intake of air unhurried pace where to go ... you are here you are finally here ... Charlie Gee 7/8/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 9, 2010 23:31:21 GMT -5
wings
so what was the cost of having you stay what was the price we would pay sounds selfish so utterly self-serving we saw you suffering saw you fading, fading into nothing as each capacity each thing that qualified you as a human being was taken your speech your ability to walk to speak, to see to even open your eyes your beautiful brown eyes yes, we saw it all saw you dwindling, smaller and smaller but, at least we saw ... you I said it was selfish I know it all too well the battles we fought within ourselves ultimately powerless over any of it but bargaining, making deals with God ... pleading but then again what was the price of you being taken away from us what would that mean to us only that we'd be boxers without arms singers without songs poets without words skies without stars but you ... would be without something too your pain, your suffering would be over that's the price of losing you and so powerless over any of it we chose, we settled for you at peace after your long and terrible ordeal ... rest easy, sweet angel rest in your peace know that you are never forgotten no, not for one moment your memory still guides us as we glide ever homeward on the wings of your great love Charlie Gee 6/14/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 11, 2010 2:22:57 GMT -5
steps sitting on the steps of the Greek church tired from too much sun and not enough rest picked up a couple of gyros for me and my daughter they're very good but while I waited while I sat I thought about how strange strange and wonderful it is to be anything anything at all so I sat watching the people line up for zeppoles old, young some beaten down by life and some thinking they're giving life a beating neither group is right somewhere between the two poles of dejection and elation lies the truth it can be found anywhere even on the steps of a Greek church ... CG 6/16/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 12, 2010 2:22:20 GMT -5
free?
awake at 3:00 AM thinkin' about the light how we wait for the sun but live in darkness most of the time rejecting, selecting subjecting, reflecting ignorance so all-pervasive it seems factual in the land of the blind the one who sees is labeled heretic, and must be removed in order for the status quo to remain the status quo and so we trudge along teaching our children lies not maliciously but because we believe them to be truth ... and that is the saddest thing because really we all seek the light but mistake the darkness as it's representative and so it's back to sleep to toss, to turn to paint my prison walls and declare that I am free ... CG 7/12/10
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 12, 2010 2:54:31 GMT -5
hello, it's me ...
hello it's me I am the fiction myself, the living contradiction
I see myself as fine and fair but cannot see myself not there
and so I chase my chosen tail success comes only when I fail ...
Charlie Gee 7/12/10
|
|
|
Post by enigma on Jul 12, 2010 2:54:57 GMT -5
The Secret
Miserable mankind Endlessly struggles For moments of joy While the rose happily grows Where it is planted
Miserable mankind Works tirelessly for peace While the stream flows Gracefully to the sea
Miserable mankind Is rarely inspired To greatness and beauty While nature Knows no other way to be
Nature knows a secret Which miserable mankind has forgotten Life is a gift received with open arms Rather than a closed fist
Life is a singular harmonious jewel Reflecting it's own beauty In every facet Rather than the harsh glint Of the shattered pieces Of a broken vase
Nature rejoices in it's joy Is at peace with it's own harmony Is inspired by it's own beauty Nature is in love with the simplicity Of being.
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 12, 2010 3:40:21 GMT -5
can I get an amen? ... AMEN ....
|
|
|
Post by charliegee on Jul 12, 2010 19:06:09 GMT -5
naked
to stand naked/before god and man/shame/turns to submission ~ submission/to acceptance/acceptance/to freedom ~ hidden/no more/clarity returns/sight ~ shadows retreat/ordinary life resumes/in most/extraordinary ways ~ pain is fleeting/it comes/it pierces/it moves on ~ as all things/move on/nothing sticks/nothing holds ~ and yet/you love/like never/before ~ free to live/free to learn/free to love/to stand naked ~ before god and man/you are clothed/in humility/in grace ~ in mercy .... CG 6/14/10
|
|