poetry

[maxdprophet]

The Snow Man
BY WALLACE STEVENS

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

[runstill]

This artist has downright haunting vocals, the lyrics' appear in the video , gave me goose bumps lol.

[laughter]

reality burns by the light of the life
the turning which has no other
ideas and emotions are wisps of the smoke
they drift to a dissolute aura
by cold or on heat sensations they tell
of the moment, ever eternal

in truth you will know it, there is no mistake, infinity calls and you answer

all ups and downs attention it fixes
on matters that always will wander
distractions abound but by sight and by sound
deception can never find footing
the present it seems can be used by the dreams
of the frightened the mad and the petty

be still and stand faithful in love they can't shake you a phantom has never real power

why would you fear that which is not here, but instead is ever in passing?
know that you are and always have been that which it all does reflect from

as life goes on in the song that is sung
with refrains and melodic impression
yesterdays themes will age at the seams
and burst into jagged grey fragments
the light of the sun will still warm your face
the rock of the earth will support you

in the silence of morning you hear the truth calling and feel it was there all along

the clock still grinds on, the rent still comes due, the devil, a constant companion
utopia beckons out on the horizon a shimmering wavy mirage
and the peace that can't waiver is only one flavor
of the ineffable now

[glimmer]

can one ‘prefer’
to have
no preference?

~

dropping words
like bricks
my feet should hurt

~

believing what they heard
telling me
who disappears

~

I disappear
into art
only to re-emerge

I-maginary

[laughter]

Feb 13, 2021 3:27:07 GMT -5 glimmer said:

can one ‘prefer’
to have
no preference?

~

dropping words
like bricks
my feet should hurt

~

believing what they heard
telling me
who disappears

~

I disappear
into art
only to re-emerge

I-maginary

The smoke of mind curls around the diamond.
It doesn't matter if the words are never spoken, they still obscure, and thereby, conceal.
But. What is indivisible. What cannot be scratched or scathed.
Remains.

[laughter]

in extreme sentimentality ...

no two moments are identical
each, constantly dying to the next
never to return

[glimmer]

I don’t know what to say
you arrived here
waaaaaaaaa

then you went
on a flying fox
ahhhhhhhhh

oh sails,
oh wind
breath away

breathe in
breathe out
breathe in

[glimmer]

can I be
an ocean wave
or a lion

you can be
the roar
of being

[glimmer]

Feb 13, 2021 10:24:18 GMT -5 laughter said:

The smoke of mind curls around the diamond.
It doesn't matter if the words are never spoken, they still obscure, and thereby, conceal.
But. What is indivisible. What cannot be scratched or scathed.
Remains.

This is truely a sutra of a diamond.

[laughter]

Apr 10, 2021 4:29:09 GMT -5 glimmer said:

can I be
an ocean wave
or a lion

you can be
the roar
of being

Wow. Well done glimmer.

hey, here are a trio of haiku's I did elsewhere (and two had some "help" with) ..

fireflies
in a multitude
light our path

-----

morning moon
honking flappers fly
underneath

------

bright banks melt
chuckling tricklets
glint over grass

[glimmer]

Apr 10, 2021 11:45:48 GMT -5 laughter said:

hey, here are a trio of haiku's I did elsewhere (and two had some "help" with) ..

fireflies
in a multitude
light our path

-----

morning moon
honking flappers fly
underneath

------

bright banks melt
chuckling tricklets
glint over grass

These are superb laughter. I was thinking just the other day, upon my true enjoyment of writing, it is not what is produced at the end, but the process of being within the process.

[laughter]

Apr 11, 2021 2:32:05 GMT -5 glimmer said:

Apr 10, 2021 11:45:48 GMT -5 laughter said:

hey, here are a trio of haiku's I did elsewhere (and two had some "help" with) ..

fireflies
in a multitude
light our path

-----

morning moon
honking flappers fly
underneath

------

bright banks melt
chuckling tricklets
glint over grass

These are superb laughter. I was thinking just the other day, upon my true enjoyment of writing, it is not what is produced at the end, but the process of being within the process.

Thanks for the kind word glimmer. I'll always have a soft spot for the first drafts that springs whole to mind all at once.

[glimmer]

fireflies
in orbit—
planetary moons

~

water laughs?
just like
it cries

~

magpie geese
and
city streets

~

who chuckles
who honks
who gets it

[zin]

Evening

The sky puts on the darkening blue coat

held for it by a row of ancient trees;
you watch: and the lands grow distant in your sight,
one journeying to heaven, one that falls;

and leave you, not at home in either one,
not quite so still and dark as the darkened houses,
not calling to eternity with the passion of what becomes
a star each night, and rises;

and leave you (inexpressibly to unravel)
your life, with its immensity and fear,
so that, now bounded, now immeasurable,
it is alternately stone in you and star.

R. M. Rilke

translation by Stephen Mitchell

[glimmer]

  just inside
   grace is at the door
  just a little further
   just a little more
  gently gently
   just inside
  grace knocks once
   and once
  and more