I had a Facebook
It drove me out of my mind.
lies make more liars.
It drove me out of my mind.
lies make more liars.
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Poetry Club
- Thread starter Tripolation
- Start date
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
~William Ernest Henley
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
~William Ernest Henley
It was mentioned. Now it appears.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas
saxbari
Established member
Your posting of the Dylan Thomas poem made me think of the time I ripped it off for something I was writing, not even realizing the forgotten target of my larceny for a couple hours after writing it. I looked it up and remembered it. What a great poem! Thank you for posting it. Here's the one I wrote.
Thoughts Upon Awakening
Enchantment
The first day's emotion stirs
The morning's third awareness curves
My wak'ning eyes towards another day
My burgeoning soul begins the day's songs of love
Melodies chime into resonance
Shoes, breakfast, guitars all begin to filter past
In glittering presentation of morning's bubbly inspection of acknowledgement
Realization of the presence and care drive of dear souls
Toiling in passing anonymity as brilliant perspective and care is considered
(Quietly, intently, in earlieast morning, and alone)
Already conceptualized
Cradled
Cared for
Nurtured and grown
Achieving its own impetus of dreamed potential
Into a form that us may see and hear
To grow into its own existence
To add enchantment to our experience
To help we taste deeply of their levels of experience, care and thought
To begin to one day feel the glimmer of understanding
Sought by many
Experienced by one I know
In this case
Somewhere
In a basement
One person toils in care and passion
Writing and thinking all they have
All of the years of their time
Into a work to help what they see
And bring the opportunity to say more
To people with ears and sensibility
One of whom
Just maybe, will hear
And understand
Pick up one football
And carry on into this shared future
Adding to this mosaic of care
And intelligent reflection and action
We shall not go so gently into this good night
We shall not dip away into careless acceptance
And choke upon the detrius of unconsidered floundering existence
Wearing damned buckets on our heads
Somewhere
Someone cares enough to think
To help us see
And try to help us understand
And walk though this wilderness
And maybe find ourselves still standing when all this gets sorted
And give your children a place to stand
To live
To dream
To have children of their own
And live also
In steeped appreciation of where we have been, where we are
And where we may go if we're lucky
And smart enough to
Walk
Learn
Think
Listen
Care
Grow
Teach
Thank you
Good morning
Thoughts Upon Awakening
Enchantment
The first day's emotion stirs
The morning's third awareness curves
My wak'ning eyes towards another day
My burgeoning soul begins the day's songs of love
Melodies chime into resonance
Shoes, breakfast, guitars all begin to filter past
In glittering presentation of morning's bubbly inspection of acknowledgement
Realization of the presence and care drive of dear souls
Toiling in passing anonymity as brilliant perspective and care is considered
(Quietly, intently, in earlieast morning, and alone)
Already conceptualized
Cradled
Cared for
Nurtured and grown
Achieving its own impetus of dreamed potential
Into a form that us may see and hear
To grow into its own existence
To add enchantment to our experience
To help we taste deeply of their levels of experience, care and thought
To begin to one day feel the glimmer of understanding
Sought by many
Experienced by one I know
In this case
Somewhere
In a basement
One person toils in care and passion
Writing and thinking all they have
All of the years of their time
Into a work to help what they see
And bring the opportunity to say more
To people with ears and sensibility
One of whom
Just maybe, will hear
And understand
Pick up one football
And carry on into this shared future
Adding to this mosaic of care
And intelligent reflection and action
We shall not go so gently into this good night
We shall not dip away into careless acceptance
And choke upon the detrius of unconsidered floundering existence
Wearing damned buckets on our heads
Somewhere
Someone cares enough to think
To help us see
And try to help us understand
And walk though this wilderness
And maybe find ourselves still standing when all this gets sorted
And give your children a place to stand
To live
To dream
To have children of their own
And live also
In steeped appreciation of where we have been, where we are
And where we may go if we're lucky
And smart enough to
Walk
Learn
Think
Listen
Care
Grow
Teach
Thank you
Good morning
Hugin
Established member
Reality
Heartbeat pulses with the golden spiral
Brainwaves vibrate then go viral
This universe is a living broadcast
Tapped into a new frequency
Currents transmitted forecast
Transmuted minds, one conscious podcast
I’m the architect of my own reality
If language is currency I live in poverty
Follow the blueprint, orchestrated anomaly
Aligned energy with vibrations, it’s harmony
Endlessly transforming like sacred geometry
Heartbeat pulses with the golden spiral
Brainwaves vibrate then go viral
This universe is a living broadcast
Tapped into a new frequency
Currents transmitted forecast
Transmuted minds, one conscious podcast
I’m the architect of my own reality
If language is currency I live in poverty
Follow the blueprint, orchestrated anomaly
Aligned energy with vibrations, it’s harmony
Endlessly transforming like sacred geometry
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CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
ALL IS SPACE
Feelings arrive early, words come late
Thoughts of you reverberate
All is space, you keep repeating
Nothing’s left solid, even I am fleeting
What you invoke, lands with me
Not sure if there’s a person left to be
(Link: All Is Space)
Feelings arrive early, words come late
Thoughts of you reverberate
All is space, you keep repeating
Nothing’s left solid, even I am fleeting
What you invoke, lands with me
Not sure if there’s a person left to be
(Link: All Is Space)
From these depths depart towards heaven;
may your soul be happy, journey joyfully.
You have escaped from the city full of fear and trembling;
happily become a resident of the Abode of Security
If the body’s image has gone, await the image-maker; if the
body is utterly ruined, become all soul.
If your face has become saffron pale through death, become a
dweller among tulip beds and Judas trees.
If the doors of repose have been barred to you, come, depart
by way of the roof and the ladder.
If you are alone from Friends and companions, by the help of
God become a saheb-qeran [lord of happy circumstance].
If you have been secluded from water and bread, like bread
become the food of the souls, and so become!
-Rumi
may your soul be happy, journey joyfully.
You have escaped from the city full of fear and trembling;
happily become a resident of the Abode of Security
If the body’s image has gone, await the image-maker; if the
body is utterly ruined, become all soul.
If your face has become saffron pale through death, become a
dweller among tulip beds and Judas trees.
If the doors of repose have been barred to you, come, depart
by way of the roof and the ladder.
If you are alone from Friends and companions, by the help of
God become a saheb-qeran [lord of happy circumstance].
If you have been secluded from water and bread, like bread
become the food of the souls, and so become!
-Rumi
CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
IN EVERY MOMENT
Start again
In every moment
Breathing with
Eyes wide open
We feel the pain
Will we answer
The call for change
When there’s no master
(Link: In Every Moment)
Start again
In every moment
Breathing with
Eyes wide open
We feel the pain
Will we answer
The call for change
When there’s no master
(Link: In Every Moment)
I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
the one who remains silent while I talk,
the one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
the one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
the one who will remain standing when I die.
-Juan Ramon Jimenez
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
the one who remains silent while I talk,
the one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
the one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
the one who will remain standing when I die.
-Juan Ramon Jimenez
CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
Morning calls
Rain falls
Time passes
No classes
It’s a holiday
Go out and play
What’s inside, what’s out?
Not a thing to worry about
(Link: Rain Falls)
Rain falls
Time passes
No classes
It’s a holiday
Go out and play
What’s inside, what’s out?
Not a thing to worry about
(Link: Rain Falls)
CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
Hey, that one was referenced in a podcast I listened to a day or two ago!
Two chaps talking about myth, good stuff:
They’ve been reading the Nexus for quite some time, although not yet to make a chime, they think however it might be time, for song and dance, and maybe a rhyme.
Haikus, hyperboles, rhymes and scores, now what can they show you’ve not yet seen before.
Unsure of the reason, it will pass like a season, they come bearing gifts, they’re sure you’ve seen them.
So without further adieu
this one’s for you
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Crystals are great…
But how good is goo!
Haikus, hyperboles, rhymes and scores, now what can they show you’ve not yet seen before.
Unsure of the reason, it will pass like a season, they come bearing gifts, they’re sure you’ve seen them.
So without further adieu
this one’s for you
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue
Crystals are great…
But how good is goo!
CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
This one made me think of all the tek threads on this forum:
The recipe called for potatoes,
I substituted rice;
The recipe said use paprika,
I used another spice.
It said to use tomato sauce,
I used tomato paste,
Not half a can like in the plan,
I don’t believe in waste.
When given this recipe from a friend,
She said, “You just can’t beat it”.
There must be something wrong with her,
I couldn’t even eat it.
The recipe called for potatoes,
I substituted rice;
The recipe said use paprika,
I used another spice.
It said to use tomato sauce,
I used tomato paste,
Not half a can like in the plan,
I don’t believe in waste.
When given this recipe from a friend,
She said, “You just can’t beat it”.
There must be something wrong with her,
I couldn’t even eat it.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;—
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,—act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;—
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
CommonConduit
🎨 ‘Los Amantes’ by Remedios Varo
CURTAIN DROPS
Could it be
That life is over for me?
Behind these eyes, it’s clear
What once gave rise to fear
Ends up being a display
Giving it all away
Do I wish for it to stop?
No, just noticing how the curtain drops
(Link: Curtain Drops)
Poem number 33 by yours truly! Good one to end on for the time being.
Could it be
That life is over for me?
Behind these eyes, it’s clear
What once gave rise to fear
Ends up being a display
Giving it all away
Do I wish for it to stop?
No, just noticing how the curtain drops
(Link: Curtain Drops)
Poem number 33 by yours truly! Good one to end on for the time being.
Hugin
Established member
Trickster
I sense you at your weakest
I find you mentally drained
This is when I feed you lies
Strike panic through your brain
I’m here to help you
This is why I’m here
You will never see me
You will trust in what I say
I will guide you safely
I will lead the way
Say you trust me fully
So I know you will obey
Relax your whole body
Let go of every nerve
Soon it will be time, be ready
Give in, I catch you mid-fall
Now I hold the power
You are under my control
I’ve hijacked your body
I feed upon your soul
First I will mock you
Make you feel the shame
Then i’ll root into your psyche
Leave the pain for you to blame
I sense you at your weakest
I find you mentally drained
This is when I feed you lies
Strike panic through your brain
I’m here to help you
This is why I’m here
You will never see me
You will trust in what I say
I will guide you safely
I will lead the way
Say you trust me fully
So I know you will obey
Relax your whole body
Let go of every nerve
Soon it will be time, be ready
Give in, I catch you mid-fall
Now I hold the power
You are under my control
I’ve hijacked your body
I feed upon your soul
First I will mock you
Make you feel the shame
Then i’ll root into your psyche
Leave the pain for you to blame
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ABe©eDarian
∞☆∵𓋹☯ॐ☮ღ∴★∞
The poor are the children of the land,
They have no home, no friend, no hand,
No voice to plead their cause;
No whisper of love, no voice of cheer,
And they are lost forever here.
They wander with the winds of fate,
The outcasts of a world of hate,
And no one knows their names;
And when the night is dark and long,
They make their way through paths unknown,
And when they die, they die alone.
~Edgar Lee Masters
They have no home, no friend, no hand,
No voice to plead their cause;
No whisper of love, no voice of cheer,
And they are lost forever here.
They wander with the winds of fate,
The outcasts of a world of hate,
And no one knows their names;
And when the night is dark and long,
They make their way through paths unknown,
And when they die, they die alone.
~Edgar Lee Masters
LuxObscura
Titanium Teammate
Counter to the Trickster
I see the one who’s truly weak,
and the one who hunts for prey.
Patterns play on endless loop,
there’s no escape, no other way.
I step in softly, lamb in skin,
pretending I am frail.
My words pull focus from the need,
and shift the hunter’s trail.
I map his moves, I mark his mind,
for one there’s hope, release.
For him there’s none, no fleeing now,
no bargain, no false peace.
Blinded by their own reward,
they move like soulless machines,
never caring what they swallow
be it gasoline or benzene.
He waits until surrender comes,
then dares to spit his shame.
But that’s when I stop pouring drinks
and strip him of his game.
The mask is torn, the stage collapses,
everyone sees the threads.
It took no force, he dug the pit,
and stepped in where it led.
Now truth stands bare, no hiding place,
the weakness wasn’t real.
The wounds were stitched by false intent,
but truth became the seal.
The vanquisher plays victim now,
and calls me the villain’s name.
While dreaming dark and violent dreams,
I’m calm, outside his game.
And to the one who needed aid,
perhaps I am the hero.
There was no ground, no zero-point,
no slaughter’s three-five-zero-zero,
only a scene unmasking lies,
a true De Niro show.