Poetry
04-09-2016, 01:40 PM, (This post was last modified: 04-09-2016, 04:42 PM by I am Shayne.)
RE: Poetry
Wow, seriously good poems here. I just recently started getting into reading poetry online, and here it comes up on bring4th haha.
Here's a poem I wrote senior year of high school. It's meaning is more advanced than my mind was was at the time.

EVERYTHING IS imPOSSIBLE

In reality a child is more powerful than the average man.
his young mind creates iLlusions carrying a boundless span.
man is trapped by his own imagination of self-defeat.
he knows not the concept of thoughts discrete.
if the body is separate from the mind,
impossibiLities will occur.
fact and fiction will be difficUlt to differ.
a fine line lies between the two.
it all dependS on your point of view.
if pessimism Is your way of creed,
congratulations you will never succeed.
positive thought and self-belief,
an open mind and nothing beneath;
bare necessities tO keep life secure.
merge the qualities to fiNd your cure.
the sickness of the individual man
will be healed when the spiritual sun riseS to reveal
the illusionary reality.

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04-18-2016, 04:04 PM, (This post was last modified: 11-27-2016, 09:01 PM by Dekalb_Blues.)
RE: Extrapoetriality
There was a young sailor from Brighton,
Who said to his girl, "You've a--"

...Oh, wait. Sorry, wrong poem, there!  That's the one earmarked for the discussion at ZeroHedge about the Fed's snippy letter to Jamie Dimon at JPMorganChase re. JPMC's naughty derivatives-based high-financial hornswoggling for apocalyptic fun, profit, and kontrolhttp://www.zerohedge.com/news/2016-04-15/fed-sends-frightening-letter-jpmorgan-corporate-media-yawns  Half a tick-- ah, here we are:


    "Rocky, you see, lived down on Long Island somewhere, miles away from New York; and not only that, but he had told me himself more than once that he never got up before twelve, and seldom earlier than one. Constitutionally the laziest young devil in America, he had hit on a walk in life which enabled him to go the limit in that direction. He was a poet. At least, he wrote poems when he did anything; but most of his time, as far as I could make out, he spent in a sort of trance. He told me once that he could sit on a fence, watching a worm and wondering what on earth it was up to, for hours at a stretch.
    He had his scheme of life worked out to a fine point. About once a month he would take three days writing a few poems; the other three hundred and twenty-nine days of the year he rested. I didn't know there was enough money in poetry to support a chappie, even in the way in which Rocky lived; but it seems that, if you stick to exhortations to young men to lead the strenuous life and don't shove in any rhymes, American editors fight for the stuff. Rocky showed me one of his things once. It began:

Be!
Be!
    The past is dead.
    To-morrow is not born.
        Be to-day!
    To-day!
        Be with every nerve,
        With every muscle,
        With every drop of your red blood!
Be!


It was printed opposite the frontispiece of a magazine with a sort of scroll round it, and a picture in the middle of a fairly-nude chappie, with bulging muscles, giving the rising sun the glad eye. Rocky said they gave him a hundred dollars for it, and he stayed in bed till four in the afternoon for over a month."

                                                                    --- from P. G. Wodehouse, "The Aunt and the Sluggard" (1916)
                                                                    http://www.madameulalie.org/strand/The_Aunt_and_the_Sluggard.html


No, hang on, that wasn't the one either. It's just silly, anyway-- we all know Poetry Is Serious Business. [Rifles through tattered scrolls, parchments, and palimpsests in gloom of dusty cobwebbed torchlit archives] Here it is!:



Master Goal

The speed of light is awfully quick
But not as swift as thought.
The runway of your mind is slick,
Hear what the masters taught:
You make the world that you observe
By thinking it to be.
It matches what your thoughts preserve
And faithfully foresee.
In finer realms where you began
Your quest upon the Earth,
You conceived a larger plan
To earn your full self-worth.
Then, as a spirit of the Light
You chose a human gown.
At birth, you were a lustrous sight
--A child of renown.
Now, throughout your life each day
You choose each way to go.
You must pick from thoughts that sway
Between the to and fro.
Align with paths that you prepared
Before you took this trip,
For every choice where you have erred
Was just a minor slip.
And like a philharmonic play
Where everyone has scripts,
You all create the world today,
Right now, and in your crypts.
Again, it all begins with mind,
A colleague of the soul.
Refrain from every thought unkind
--This is your master goal!

--- channeled poem by Neil Z. Miller ("Z-Man"), from his Gadzooks! Extraterrestrial Guide to Love, Wisdom and Happiness (2001) http://thinktwice.com/poems.htm

"Gadzooks! Z-Man hears voices in his head. Benevolent extraterrestrials
wish to communicate with humanity. They succeed in transmitting a series of
poems [in iambic pentameter, forsooth!]. Extraordinary beings from other worlds
offer insight, guidance, and a lyrical blueprint for your spiritual growth."

                                                                                     -- Amazon.com blurb

"January 3, 2001
Dear Children of God,
We are here to help you cast aside self-made barriers to clear perceptions
of God's existence. As you move forward into your spiritual identity, greater
aspects of the whole will be revealed. Retain this vision, for it is your lifeline
to God's reality.
You live during a time of profound developments. Massive shifts in
consciousness are sweeping across the planet. Opposition in many forms
will try to impede your advancement. Although some of this resistance will
be consciously perpetrated, much of it will be mindlessly manifested. The
remainder exists solely within your own mind. It has no other reality save
that which you attribute it with.
Think on these things. Then move ahead, slowly at first, seeking God's
guidance on the important matters. Remain confident that He has a plan for
you. Realize that you are an integral member of His legion of light bearers.
Who are we? We are God's extraterrestrial emissaries acting on His
behalf. But please don't accept our claims; discover the truth on your own."

                                                                     -- from Gadzooks! preface



 
Members of Our Crew

Some bones that lie beneath the ground
Will leave the world aghast,
For when these ancient limbs are found
You will rewrite the past.
We mention this so you will know
That when this day arrives
Your true galactic roots will show
How long the truth survives.
So many, many years before
A cunning snake told Eve,
"An apple tastes good to the core;
You are much too naïve,"
A spaceship from a distant place
Flew to Earth and landed.
It contained a higher race
Of beings who disbanded.
They mingled with the native hordes
And spread their seeds as well.
The masses thought of them as lords
Who taught them to excel.
Later, when their jobs were done
They had to say good-bye.
Of course, this saddened everyone
And caused a mass outcry.
They promised to return one day
When they are needed most.
"We'd really like for you to stay!"
Implored their loving host.
So some of them remained behind
To teach all that they knew,
Until they died for you to find
Lost members of our crew.


http://news.discovery.com/history/archaeology/ancient-cranial-deformations-121219.htm
 
http://www.nationalufocenter.com/artman/uploads/16egyptianprincess.jpg

https://duckduckgo.com/?q=aliens+with+elongated+skulls&t=h&iax=1&ia=images&iai=https%3A%2F%2Flandofkam.files.wordpress.com%2F2013%2F10%2Felonga.jpg

http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/21/3e/0d/213e0d36cb59fb9131b1c5e66c4a621c.jpg

[Image: 9010-016.gif]
Figure 1. Acquisition signal (Signpost SETI). One SETI rationale is that the signal we are looking for in the microwave regime may only be a beacon. This beacon might point the way to the main signal channel elsewhere in the electromagnetic spectrum.
http://www.coseti.org/paper_01.htm

Further up this alley:
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/poems-about-aliens
http://www.humancolony.org/galactic-poetry/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mfYfOgRCbIQ
Cheers! Cool
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isis
04-22-2016, 06:02 PM, (This post was last modified: 04-23-2016, 12:45 PM by Elros.)
RE: Poetry
The light that lies within

Become the child that has been buried deep within

The essence of yourself that slowly went astray

Remember what it's like to see the world in awe

To feel that the smallest beauty is a wonder

What it was to start each day like an adventure

Unbury these feelings that uplifted your soul

And then, you will have found the light that lies within

In the idea of infinity, acceptance of all the potentials the mind can think of is required for a balanced union with what is seen of infinity
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04-30-2016, 01:57 AM, (This post was last modified: 04-30-2016, 02:00 AM by I am Shayne.)
RE: Poetry
Poetry is such a fun, artistic way to express one's self. Heres a simple, deep one i wrote today

My world is conceived through what I believe.
My own creation I perceive.
I decide what I achieve.
I design the dreams to weave.
It slips my mind more often than not,
this world is created by my thought.
Some times are dim and some are bright.
Black seems dark compared to white.
But all black is, is a lack of light.
Every day has its night.
The lowest low can be the greatest height,
yet what I believe is always right.
This is my personal universe.

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04-30-2016, 03:20 AM,
RE: Poetry
One 

The creator is on both sides of the mirror but it's essence lies in the reflection itself. Dive within and it shall be reflected through you
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04-30-2016, 01:09 PM,
RE: Poetry
(04-30-2016, 03:20 AM)matrix_drumr Wrote:  One 

You did it! Right there! That simple beautiful word says it all

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06-12-2016, 11:16 PM, (This post was last modified: 09-05-2016, 03:31 AM by Dekalb_Blues.)
Tomorrow's A Drag For The Button-Down Brain
[Image: 11403.jpg]





[Image: d1b3b9f10bd14ca710a91d9d32e2cd90.jpg]

Macbeth:
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing. 

-- Wm. Shakespeare Macbeth, (Act 5, scene 5, 19-28)







[Image: nancy.jpg] Cool
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isis
06-13-2016, 09:58 PM,
RE: Poetry
My being is energy exchanged through the elements.
I belong in this process of infinite elegance.
I am but a drop of water in the ebb and flow.
The process engulfs me even more than I know.

The sun emanates far in the distance.
Is it love, or a byproduct of its existence?

I inhale the air and return it my breath.
Wind blows through the trees, my sigh is the breeze.
The elements grant me life till I grant them my death.
My body shall be dirt to feed the trees,
Which open their flowers to feed the bees,
To then grow fruits which drop the seeds,
To sprout into elements that everything needs.
All things are connected and interdependent.
All I am now, will serve as a remnant.

The sun emanates far in the distance.
Is it love, or a byproduct of its existence?

Sunlight moves the air around the world.
Sunlight lifts the ocean into the sky.
The sun gives energy to the process of Earth.
Life exists here, and the sun is the reason why.

What could Earth do in return?

The sun emanates far in the distance.
Is it love, or a byproduct of its existence?

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08-26-2016, 01:26 PM,
RE: Poetry
Two Worlds?
(Gleanings of the Meditative)
Friday, August 26, 2016 ©
No part of this work may be shared or reproduced in any form without express permission of the author,
unless it is with the express purpose of imparting divine love to others, and not for personal nor material gain of any kind.
The world's out there
My world's in here
One world too many … one drop of a tear.
There is no “my”, not even a “me.”
No one there, to hear the falling tree
No one to choose “to be, or not to be.”
No head in the sand
No two feet to stand
No reaching out, no helping hand.
No one to write this, no one to read it
Not even a critic to bellow a “damn-it”
No open door beckons, so no fear to slam it.
No time, like the present
No loss of the pleasant
No suffering impoverished peasant.
So what's this log i've got stuck in “my” eye?
When there's not even an “I”
To blink under the Great Eye in the sky.
Mystery Supreme
“You're” not what “you” seem
Perhaps it's all just a dream.
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08-28-2016, 12:35 AM, (This post was last modified: 11-27-2016, 09:55 PM by Dekalb_Blues.)
RE: Emily D.
Because I could not stop for Death

by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)

[Image: wikidickinson.jpg]

Because I could not stop for Death – 
He kindly stopped for me – 
The Carriage held but just Ourselves – 
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility – 

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring – 
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – 
We passed the Setting Sun – 

Or rather – He passed us – 
The Dews drew quivering and chill – 
For only Gossamer, my Gown – 
My Tippet – only Tulle – 

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground – 
The Roof was scarcely visible – 
The Cornice – in the Ground – 

Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –

[gossamer -- a very light, sheer, gauze-like fabric; tippet -- scarf-like garment, worn draped over shoulders;  tulle -- a lace-like ornamental netting of silk; cornice -- generally any horizontal ledge-like decorative molding that crowns a building]


[Image: the_carriage.png]


[Image: 6eb8695aa432709161fa278008df5952_l.jpg] 


[Image: tumblr_n32cjjv7B11rggrn8o1_1280.jpg]
  ☞ DISCLAIMER: No imaginary apes were harmed in the production of this cartoon.   Cool
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isis
09-04-2016, 06:07 AM, (This post was last modified: 09-04-2016, 06:10 AM by Papercut.)
RE: Poetry
do you even listen,
is anyone there?
do you even listen,
what do I say?
would you show me the way,
when I cry and pray?
to calm me at night,
at the end of the day?
nobody knows me
nobody cares
nobody loves me
is there anyone else?
to help when I fall,
there is no on at all?
its so wretched dark,
I can feel your heart spark.
and now that you listen,
I am too far away.
now that you listen,
I'm on with this play.
The small is to the large as the large is to the whole.
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10-14-2016, 06:00 AM,
RE: Poetry
the planet's vibration

Heart

no matter what you say,
i will see things my way.

you say things are not me -
but that's not what i see.

you say, "we're not one now" -
but i follow the tao.

you say, "some things are bad" -
but i think you've been had.

you say, "there's evil here" -
but i think you're no seer.

you say, "it's worth a cry" -
but i keep my vibe high.

you say, "don't love it all" -
but i say: that's my call.

i am every event -
& i am heaven-sent.

"I am all that has been, and is, and shall be..."
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10-15-2016, 12:12 AM, (This post was last modified: 10-18-2016, 06:02 PM by Dekalb_Blues.)
RE: Poetry
(10-14-2016, 06:00 AM)isis Wrote:  the planet's vibration

Heart 
....

you say, "it's worth a cry" -
but i keep my vibe high.

....

i am every event -
& i am heaven-sent.

[Image: MN-004.png] 
[Image: 97578ced531c939fb20c62eed92f8f4f.jpg]





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10-29-2016, 03:04 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-29-2016, 03:13 PM by lovecast. Edit Reason: made a mistake posting )
RE: Poetry
Undoing The Incarnation ©
[an ode to Wanderers]
Saturday, October 29, 2016
No part of this work may be shared or reproduced in any form without express permission of the author,
 unless it is with the express purpose of imparting divine love to others, and not for personal nor material gain of any kind.
lovecasthealingarden@gmail.com

The dye is cast, we're here at last, to play a role, we've set our goal,
for unto us, live we must, to LOVE the ALL, when ALL was lost,,

so here we are, we've come so far, through eons' bubble, of toil & trouble,
see it through, remaining true, when all seems lost, & high the cost,

yet brave of heart, each ONE is, tall & true, seen by few,
yet ALL do know, within deep soul, true of heart, right from the start,

the tree of teaching, our branches reaching, beyond Jupiter & Mars, far as the stars,
& deep we grow, to waters flow, to find the ALL, joins us great & small,

to holy drama, presents us panorama, so far path goes, as each has chose,
although at times, slow the wheel grinds, yet at each turn, more we discern,

so ALL respect, with no regret, we bind the wound, we cast the rune,
embrace each woe, then free let it go, no guilt nor shame, no fear to name,

at last it's done, outshining Sun, so noble be, oath keepers we,
& then one day, each will say, the race is run, the last is done & we're all ONE.
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10-29-2016, 03:06 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-29-2016, 03:18 PM by lovecast. Edit Reason: extra post not needed )
RE: Poetry
Smile Love & Light to ALL  Heart
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10-29-2016, 03:11 PM, (This post was last modified: 10-29-2016, 03:22 PM by lovecast.)
RE: Poetry
an additional thought on "Undoing The Incarnation"
... the last line reads: "& then one day, each will say, the race is run, the last is done & we're all ONE." ...
being ONE there will be nothing to say ... who would we be saying it to? .... & being one, there is no "last day" for indeed, time itself is one of the distortions, is it not? ... what do you all think about that?
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11-16-2016, 01:02 PM, (This post was last modified: 11-18-2016, 12:09 AM by isis.)
RE: Poetry
"i am in you & you in me,
mutual in divine love." -william blake

"I am all that has been, and is, and shall be..."
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11-27-2016, 05:40 PM,
RE: Poetry
Amen, Rumi.

As a slightly off-topic, but not completely random, aside, a few stanzas of The Guest House are featured in Coldplay's latest "A Head Full of Dreams" album. Certainly makes for a soaring and timely interlude. Furthermore, Yogi tea—and the cute, inspirational notes that accompany the bags—always causes orgasmic sensations to arise within my heart.

Good Show.

(03-04-2010, 09:21 PM)haqiqu Wrote:  
(03-04-2010, 07:10 PM)ahktu Wrote:  What can I say? I loooooove snakes!

I have a healthy respect for snakes.  I don't dislike them, but I give them lots of space.  Big Grin



Rumi seems to be trying to get my attention . . . his poems keep coming to me

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

-- Jelaluddin Rumi,
   translation by Coleman Barks
"Eros is the world's greatest teacher." —Plato
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12-08-2016, 08:15 PM, (This post was last modified: 12-08-2016, 08:16 PM by BlatzAdict.)
RE: Poetry




i don't know if i ever posted this here. this is me. my face, bleeerrgggh
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02-10-2017, 04:23 PM,
RE: Poetry
ALL IS ONE

all that is is one thing, now & forever.
loving it all is the greatest endeavor.
life is a gift that can never really end;

it is an illusion for you to transcend.
separation will no doubt forever be -

only if it is something you choose to see.
nothing that is is something that is not you -
embrace it all & you will have a breakthru.

"I am all that has been, and is, and shall be..."
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02-18-2017, 03:16 PM,
RE: Poetry
[quote pid='221546' dateline='1486758203']
The Seasons of Life
In Memory of Merlin, the Cat (“Cat”alyst)
By Bob (& All who care)
Friday, 2017-02-17 ©
(my cat ended his wanderings with me today ... Thank you Merlin, for being a "cat"alyst for me)

No part of this work may be shared or reproduced in any form without express permission of the author,
unless it is with the express purpose of imparting divine love to others, and not for personal nor material gain of any kind.
We come here for a season, or two, or three, … then we go.
It's all so short, simple too, but then it becomes all too complicated … too soon.
It is the complications which create our agonies.
Love is simple.
If one can flow in the love of life ...
if one can ride upon the crest of compassion...
if one can touch the hand of another tenderly ...
if hearts can dance as one –
then the complications become catalysts &
obstacles fade into oblivion.
Then the seasons of life are lived to perfection.
This is the alchemization of agony,
the mystification of malady,
the sublimation of suffering.
One step, one twirl, one embrace we share – freely given, freely received – in this dance of life …
turns the seasons of life into Infinite Bliss – & we smile … or shed a grateful tear ...
knowing we are kissed by God.

[/quote]
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03-19-2017, 01:00 AM,
RE: Poetry
"There are no mistakes."
Heart


shadowland
high-voltage light energy 
coyly came inside of me; 
i felt it enter my feet, 
in the form of holy heat. 
my red center then took root - 
then it began to transmute. 
it quickly raced up to green 
and then a transfer was seen: 
my energy shot to you - 
then radiated to blue. 
why would i dare to stop there? 
i see your wants in your stare; 
by the power within me, 
feel violet-ray energy

"I am all that has been, and is, and shall be..."
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Night Owl
08-01-2017, 04:35 PM,
RE: Poetry
This isn't too bright, but I wrote it about 10 years ago when I was in prison for 2+ years.

Dark Mind

As I sit in my cell and the months pass me by,
I wonder who would miss me if tomorrow I die?
Will they mourn me if tomorrow I'm gone?
With or without me, life will go on.
Have I done anything to better this world,
Or only caused conflict, and bitter turmoil?
A lifetime full of making the wrong choices,
Surrendering in defeat to the whispering evil voices.
As I sit in this cell and time passes me by,
Who would even miss me if tomorrow I die?
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