More Poetry here please .........

Always Marry an April Girl by Ogden Nash

Praise the spells and bless the charms
I found April in my arms
April golden, April cloudy
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy
April soft in flowered langor
April cold with sudden anger
Ever changing, ever true
I love April.  I love you

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Black Jade is the Night…

Multiple layers of velvety night
Twinkling stars that shine so bright
Portals of time, ever changing, in line
Diagonal, vertical, horizontal,
Betwixt and between
Time's effervescent sheen

Layers of truth, so burgundy pink
Layers of reality, giving us time to think
Darkness surrounds
Black Jade is the night
Moonstone stars shine ever so bright

Andromeda Galaxy
We've travelled so far
Spinning around on our
Blue-white star

Feb 09
Tai

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I really like this evening one Tai.  The thoughts of smooth creamy gems really hits the sky image in a lively way ;)  lovin it!

Here's one of my latest ones with all the new skills I've learned from my mentor.  Hope you all enjoy ;)

Wisdom

Life is donned on my fragile frame
And my eyes struggle to squeeze shut
Keeping the light at bay
As my mind develops.

When my eyes open
I am amazed by the world
But a curious thing happens
As truth and fairytales are twirled.

My eyes, now used to this trick,
Are bored with this simple life.
There is no more mysterious magic
Because reason wafts an equation of strife.

Through journeys, my eyes are perched
Hoping to catch a glimpse of meaning
But nothing satisfies my fate-parched-thirst
As I wonder if there really is value worth deeming.
Suddenly, something comes into view
But it spans passed the corners of both eyes.
Attempts at focusing the picture ensue,
But I fail to grasp its incredible size.
It feels like my eyes are being quartered
Like drawbridges trying to fit too big of a ship
Through the narrow passage of my martyred irises.
My understanding stretches but my portals eventually cripple.

I was not ready for a truth this grand
And my eyes lend me nothing these days
But the blurred shadows of truth, dim and bland,
Though I still try to absorb the enlightening rays.

My body is fragile again, but not as it was before.
With my eyes now blind and closed,
That large ship was able to finally hit shore.
Truth is not observed outwardly but rather inwardly composed.
 

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Thank you for your poem Carl.  The truth always finds ways to manifest itself, it does need time and gentleness with self to blossom…
Our bodies are vessels to live our earthly life and we try to keep them strong to “hold the light”
Glad you liked Black Jade is the Night (big smile)

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so pure Ruth - love it (:0)

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Amethyst heart beats strong and true
Creative imagination is just for you
Pause a while, take in the view
Pull up a seat, “take a pew”

This is a tale of a poet's life
Who has had troubles, who has had strife
Many a lesson is taught on our way
All through the night and many a day!

Listen with the ears, the heart and the mind
Gaze at a flower, a tree or mankind
For our life is there for  to “remind”
It's all reflected in a petal, a leaf, a smile..

We are reminded that we're all in this together
We are all here to “whether” the weather
We are God's body, his heart and his mind
We are all here to “rally” mankind

April 09
Tai

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wow Tai… bliss!!! 

Hugs for creating this amazing piece of work of art.

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thanks for your wonderful comments Kathy - smiles to you….

I am the land
I am the sea
You are the land
You “marry” me

Wind swept oceans, full of emotion
Tossing and turning with tranquil devotion

Silence sits inside of me
Silence sits within a tree

Trees, moon, sun, ocean
All married together in deepest devotion

We are the land
We are the sea
We are the sands of time
All married in “Tree”

April 09
Tai

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The fairy poet takes a sheet
Of moonbeam, silver white;
His ink is dew from daisies sweet,
His pen a point of light.
~Joyce Kilmer

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I am not in the military. I do not know if I will be. But I support them completely.

Militant

The person weak, the many strong.

We always will win, no matter how long.

Life lived in service, a quite noble cause,

Can lead to a death, a moment to pause.

No failure allowed, ni vict'ry rewarded,

Was just how we felt, that day when we boarded

That great metal bird; that long tube with wings,

That one time when we never know what it brings.

“Do I take you to death, or will you see me again?”

“To bring you back home, 'till you meet age's end?”

Such taunts, they can hurt us, far more than you know.

They hit minds and bring fear, causing judgement to slow.

If one man gives up, his squad may soon follow,

A difficult concept for any to follow.

But the one thing we ask, nay, the one thing we need,

Is for someone back home to give us a seed.

One of hope and salvation, deliverance from Hell.

Ideas of our homes and that lovely church bell.

Our lives left behind; wife, kids, front door,

Are our motivation, to keep fighting more;

For love.

For life.

For home.

For every man, women, child dealt grief and great strife,

by the call to arms defending our ways of life.

God Bless Their Souls.

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Thanks for the meaningful poem on soldiers.  

Thank you to all soldiers.

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More a song than a poem, but I had trouble posting audio.

How it is

My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
Now listen whilst I’m telling you something,
In the Summertime,
We tried to have a good time,
So we partied on down,
Outside old Windsor town,
But it ended with a frown,
We were beaten to the ground, by policemen.

My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
Now listen whilst I’m telling you something,
On a summers day,
Police shot a man away,
An accident’s what they say,
But it didn’t look that way,
To his family from Brazil,
Then they lied about how they killed him in a tube train.

My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
Now listen whilst I’m telling you something,
At the G20,
Police bludgeoned and they hit,
Peaceful people in the street,
And they didn’t give a shit,
And then they killed a man,
Tried lying their way out of it, those Policemen.

My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
Now listen whilst I’m telling you something,
All the newspapers say,
It’s murder on the streets,
And the people fear,
And they hide under their sheets,
But they shouldn’t hide their faces,
More are killed in high speed chases, by policemen.

My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
My hands begin to sweat and my face go red,
Now listen whilst I’m telling you something,
So that’s how it is,
Am I right to be afraid ?,
If I’m caught up in a raid,
I might easily be slayed,
Cos I’ve got a funny beard,
It might look a bit too weird, to a policeman

Yes that’s how it is,
I am right to be afeared,
If I have a funny beard,
Or I look a little weird,
And I’m caught up in a raid,
I could easily be slayed, by a policeman.

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Thanks for posting your song Andy…
blessings Tai

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Rainbow Race

We are the Rainbow Race
We are the light, that we embrace
Catching bright stars
Taking trips to planet Mars
We all have Venus in our hearts

Light days, heavy days
Fun”shine” and play
We all have responsibility in our day
We find a balance in all that we do
We find our perfect “truth”
In our hearts sure embrace

April 09
Tai

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To my daughter Amy

pretty little girl holds out her hand,
child of 
my heart.
coming to me 
our destiny
together we've been
forever we've been
living out 
side time

beyond our lives connected souls
you teach me more than you'll ever know.

Pretty little girl
grown so tall.
Pretty little girl
knows it all
wisdom beyond time still doesnt know
how far 
she'll 
go.

Jenny Strong 2009

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love your poem Jenny - you have a beautiful daughter…we learn so much from our children

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Emily Dickinson (1830–86).  Complete Poems.  1924.
MUCH madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
’Tis the majorityIn this, as all, prevails.        
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

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Hi C.G.  good to have you here, thank you for posting…Emily Dickinson is an excellent poet….

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THE DAISY FOLLOWS SOFT THE SUN
by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)



THE daisy follows soft the sun,
And when his golden walk is done,
Sits shyly at his feet.
He, waking, finds the flower near.
“Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?”
“Because, sir, love is sweet!”

We are the flower, Thou the sun!
Forgive us, if as days decline,
We nearer steal to Thee,–
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
Night's possibility!

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That is beautiful Tai.  Thanks C.G. for bringing us her poetry.  I found 3 very different ones on YouTube
Because I Could Not Stop For Death

My Letter To the World

Comb of the Winds

by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

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thanks Lee, wonderful, love all the mood changes…..

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I found the video Sean - John O'Donohue

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Frozen Flames

Dangling, dangling

beaming strings of life

the messengers of truthfulness

call on the ancients to revive

falling, falling

passing clouds of love

old pavements of persuasion

transcend to wisdom from above

rising, rising

consciousness is here

unleash the frozen flames

from phoenix’s ashes clashes fear

smiling, loving

the sparks that fill the air

our existence never ending

the forgotten leave their lair

being, listening

silence fills the sky

the pathway of the faith

will fill our hearts and make us fly

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nion - this is special and i thank you for composing.

hugs … Kath

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Loving your style Nion…..

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filmmaking …
Our battle, our struggle is to create art.
Our weapon is the moving picture.
Because we have the moving picture, 
our paintings will grow and recede.
Our poetry will be shadows 
that lengthen and conceal.
Our light will play across living faces 
that laugh and agonize.
And our music will linger 
and finally overwhelm, 
because it will have a context 
piercing more than steel.
We are the artists engaged 
in the creation of memory, 
but our memory will neither blur nor fade.  
( '<
/ ) )
// ” ”

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How true Kathy. Without filmmaking, I could not imagine the course of my life. “We are the artists engaged in the creation of memory”. Direct hit!

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Beautiful poem Jenny and I love the video too..

Soft moss a downy pillow makes, and green leaves spread a tent,
Where Faerie fold may rest and sleep until their night is spent.
The bluebird sings a lullaby, the firefly gives a light,
The twinkling stars are candles bright, Sleep, Faeries all, Good Night.

~Elizabeth T. Dillingham, “A Faery Song”

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The Shape of Love by Adyashanti

What we see is not the most important.
Could dust rise without the invisible
hand of the wind?
Could a fan turn without any current?
Could lungs breathe without breath?
Tell me
What is the shape of Love?
How much does Joy weigh
when held in the palm of your hand?
Can you catch the Spirit of Life in a jar?

All things seen depend
upon the Unseen.
All sounds depend upon Silence.
All things felt depend
upon what is not felt.

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The drop dies in the river
By Mirza Ghalib
(1797 - 1869)
English version by W. S. Merwin and Aijaz Ahmad
 

The drop dies in the river
of its joy
pain goes so far it cures itself

in the spring after the heavy rain the cloud
disappears
that was nothing but tears

in the spring the mirror turns green
holding a miracle
Change the shining wind

the rose led us to our eyes

let whatever is be open

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Rainbow light plassing so slow
Rainbow life shows “way to go”

Our hearts are gifted with the beauty of colour
Our joy is lifted when sharing with another

Relaxation is sensation
Story unfolding across every nation

Spiralling forth our planets collide
Travelling down a curving wet slide

When each heart is joyfully lit
It will be time to joyfully sit

Man and animal
Tree and plant

Our journeys are flowing
Our spirits “all knowing”

June 09
Taikunping

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A June Afternoon

A June afternoon has a
Sweet sounding tune
Like a field's lazy sigh
As the breeze tumbles by
It's a busy little ant
That crawls through my feet
Or sleepy summer blooms
That wilt in the heat
A child's muffled scream
As she plays in the sun
And her mother's lost dream
Of when she was young
A swing in the park
A friendly dog's bark
A June afternoon
Has a sweet sounding tune

By Frances Whitrow

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Haiku

dawn blessed and gentled
trees gather strong sunshine rays
energy rising….

June 09
Tai

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Transgenerational story

Memories flicker across generations,

In the dreaming, pensive watchfulness brings knowledge previously lain dormant.

Smiles of Ancestors for new lives twice lived.

While hand in hand trauma and resilience snake their way through generations.

We are here to unravel an ancient story and give it new life.

Come and watch this story unfold?

The body remembers the ancestors call

And we,

we are the survivors.

Jenny Strong 2009

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Jenny, this is pure art.  Brilliant!!!

A poem for Zephyr [for sharing her gardening expertise]

Zephyr  has wonderful memories of times

gone by,

like the zephyr moving dead leaves from the branches

on high

Change is constant, of that we know

Will it be mild, or even

more snow?

They tell us this,

They tell us that

And we're kept all intrigued to see

what will be

Is it true? Is it fact?

The geese still fly north, the squirrels stock their trees

Yesterdays are gone, and we pine at their passing

Tomorrows are ours,

and they're ours for the mapping.

Lee O'Hara

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Love the images you portray Lee.

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I really like this haiku Tai, can see the trees and the rays of light 

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I love how we all interact with the poetry, each one stimulates the other into creativity….

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A Blessing

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Thanks for this most aesthetic reads of your creations.  i couldn't open it fast so I am starting the continuation of this here.