Here's something I wrote a few days ago.
Sometimes similarities can soften the space
when two souls meet for the very first time.
But with too much common ground turmoil ensues,
and just like stepping into the shadows of a cave,
when we’re worlds apart passion can begin to fade.
This idea just popped into my head this evening. It might be fun to create our own poems. I like haiku because you get to the point quickly and in a surprising way. I think the reason it came to me is because of my feelings about living in the time of Covid. Like most people I'm cut off from a...
A blog (some call it a poem) by Gurpreet Gill.
There is so much fear, and perhaps rightfully so, about COVID-19.
And, what if…
If we subscribe to the philosophy that life is always working out for us, that there is an intelligence far greater than humans at work…
That all is...
While basking in the energy of the twenties, I unmask my message — somewhat cleverly. On Facebook and around the world, the words “Happy New Year” are frequently heard.
Will this roaring age also be strange, you wonder, with climate extremes continuing to bring change and more thunder?
I note the obvious differences
in the human family.
Some of us are serious,
some thrive on comedy.
Some declare their lives are lived
as true profundity,
and others claim they really live
the real reality.
The variety of our skin tones
can confuse, bemuse, delight,
brown and pink and beige and...
I am not old, she said,
I am rare.
I am the standing ovation
at the end of the play.
I am the retrospective
of my life as art.
I am the hours
connected like dots
into good sense.
I am the fullness
You think I am waiting to die,
but I am waiting to be found.
I am a treasure.
I am a...
There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons –
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes –
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are –
None may teach it – Any –
‘Tis the Seal Despair –
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the...
by Paula Le Cler Wood
This is the accolade,
the final badge
laid by the smouldering earth upon the earth
and this is new birth —
a new awareness and a stir
of all as yet unguessed in her.
Transcend we this and we are more than stars,
more than the seas and more than atmospheres...
A poem I wrote in a poetry course back in may, 2015, which had a few rules to go by.
The Sea where depths extend and darkness dwells
The Sea where life formed in a brackish watery body
The Sea where creatures roam, and knowledge resides
Under a salty liquid exists the clues to unlock...
There is a meadow in my perfect world
where wind dances the branches of a tree,
casting leopard spots of light across the face of a pond…
The tree stands tall and grand and alone
shading the world beneath it.
There will come a day when I rest
against its spine and look out over a valley
"This change will touch everything!
But don’t you see?
This is the Gift we’ve been waiting for!
Do NOT lament that this will transform everything in your life!
see the rest here...
One of my favorite poets is Billy Collins. I learnt a lot about his poems and poetry styles a few years ago when studying writing and poetry full time. He's actually doing a few talks this weekend at the Tucson festival of books being held at the University of Arizona — I may attend.
Here's a poem I wrote back in 2015 focused around reincarnation and the earth school.
Blatant bars of sharp light
hinder the journey.
These feet scream,
Here was a group,
but my heart now beats alone.
Like a meteor burning up,
I can’t last; nothing in sight —
While this poem touches on so much more, it also has that strong emphasis on transience.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the...
Create a poem/song out of a dream can be a fun and alternative way to express a dream in a dreamjournal or for just using dreams as an inspiration source for writing.
Sometimes we might have feelings, thought or visions lying latent which we feel not able to grasp or express. Then, using a dream...
“For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning."
― T. S. Eliot
Feel free to use this thread to post anything in relation to this new year. 2018 is upon us.
While searching for a poem for this weekends transients.info distant group healing session, I came across this one which I loved. It's by Edgar A. Guest.
Edgar Albert Guest (20 August 1881 in Birmingham, England – 5 August 1959 in Detroit, Michigan) was a prolific English-born American poet who...
Over on another thread, on the Humor board, Linda posted about a friend with a type of newsletter update for the Christmas period. I had the idea of creating a new thread here for us to share in our own unique creative ways, to portray some of our experiences during December.
There are no hard...
THE MARKETER’S TRAVAIL
Random coupon-junk sounds like
one-armed bandit when dull thunk
of paper hits post box bottom.
Pokie bandits shoot for pot luck,
Mostly missing in between,
But now one in a million
Pays the lie! The spark breaks ennui
In this revolving dream.
Marketers have evolved