Share one poem from your younger days
I was reading some poems I wrote a while back.
It was fascinating to see how I was thinking ,feeling and perceiving some 5 years ago.
Ill share one, and welcome all to do the same. Not long works please. Just something that says it with some economy.
“after the reckoning”
after the reckoning, will be time to paint flowers
with a softening hand, in faded old trousers
with colors and hues of sedation,
for the eyes , of a nation once had
no raising a brush, with crimson of anger
no hard handed edge will you see in my flowers
just languorous softness of line
pass my time and the hours
after the reckoning the stadiums empty
void of the stars who gave life to the many
citizens melded as one
in a this late evening hour
after the reckoning, a new kind of sadness
we’ll keep to ourselves as we’ve all been embarrassed
for what had we done for our children
Less shopping and having fun ?
after the reckoning, I’ll start writing songs
of soft sentimentalized delicate chords
flowers and songs ,
now stripped of all thorns…
after the reckoning
c doug auld / 2014
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
1994 The Day of Lorraine's Funeral
When it is my time to leave
this good earth
Laugh aloud, laugh aloud
Do not weep
For I have loved with fierceness
My grief
has all but killed me
I have loved with madness
all consuming
my life.
I have been enthralled, enraptured, entranced.
I have danced and I have flung my arms
to the heavens
This Good Earth.
I have been enraged
The flowers have caught me,
engaged who I am
I have been mesmerized
by the beauty of
This Good Earth.
I have cried real tears
Laugh aloud, laugh aloud
For the heavens have always caught my eyes
I have danced and I have sung
and flung my arms to the heavens
This Good Earth
has been my comrade
I am one with this earth
And so I shall be
With the Heavens.
copyrighted by me for me.
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Thanks Valerie , I feel it.
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Ha. :flower:
Noah and the Rabbit, by Hugh Chesterman:
~~~
"No land" said Noah,
"There-is-not-any-land.
Oh, Rabbit, Rabbit, can't you understand?"
But Rabbit shook his head:
"Say it again" he said;
"And slowly, please.
No good brown earth for burrows,
And no trees?
No wastes where vetch and rabbit-parsley grows?
No brakes, no bushes, and no turnip row?
No holt, no upland, meadowland or weald?
No tangled hedgerow and no playtime field?"
"No land at all - just water," Noah replied,
And Rabbit sighed.
"For always, Noah?" he whispered, "will there be
Nothing henceforth for ever but the sea?
Or will there come a day
When the green earth will call me back to play?"
Noah bowed his head:
"Some day... some day," he said.
:heart:
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Quote:
Posted by
Bill Ryan
Noah and the Rabbit, by Hugh Chesterman:
Ah. Apologies... I thought you meant a poem I loved as a child. I didn't realize you meant one I'd written myself.
:focus:
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Thank you Doug and Valerie, I love your poems.
I just looked back in my dusty old folders. Had forgotten I'd written this (back in March 2006.) By no means a great poem, but the heart of it resonated once again as I read it. Seemed appropriate for Avalon. Maybe.
A sort of prayer, I suppose.
In Their Keeping
Men and women of power and rank
gather together and begin again
Begin with a moment of stillness
and in the stillness renew yourselves
Renew the ground on which you stand,
your name, your duty and your oaths
Gather together
Begin again
and write your intention earnestly
in the dawning hues
of the summit’s rose,
in colour and in silent deed
as you deign to alter meanings
and dismantle old machineries
Unload the guns and lay them
on the warm, forgiving earth
Defuse the shells and quiet the
lusting edges of the steel blades
Empty the tanks of their heavy fuel
and let the wind whistle her song
through the new, uncluttered air
of their surrendered,
weary metal lungs
Revisit the far away places
where ideas were manifested
in deathly, oft-anonymous noise
and sweep the glass and bullets
that lie at the feet of
the blameless, ordinary man
who tries, with every passing day,
to walk the streets
as if all has not been lost
Mend the ache in his beaten back
Allow his crops once more to rise
Restore the light in his broken home
even if in doing so
you can’t restore it to his eyes
But most of all
in all of this peaceful and necessary undoing
reverse the damage of the lies,
the ones that said we were mistaken
and which, in doing so, have taken
such a mighty toll
on consciousness and sanity,
on our collective soul
Give us back the dignity
which has so long been defiled
by betrayals and false appraisals
and truths that were denied
Men and women of power and rank
gather together and begin again
Begin with a moment of stillness
and in the stillness renew yourselves
Renew the ground on which you stand,
your name, your duty and your oaths
Write your intention
with open eyes,
with unrestrained humility
in signs a hundred miles high
that reach with dedication
and redeeming tenderness
out into the ether and
across the miles of wounded sky
Then marvel as it purifies
the early morning rain
which will fall into the rivers
and the open reservoirs,
fall in celebration
that is yours and finally ours,
fall from the heavens and the clouds
into the eyes and open mouths
that mark the faceless epitaphs
of thirsting generations
Write it with the omnipotent inks
that flow from reformation
Then hear the realisation of its efforts
resonate at last,
chiming through the multitudes
as they venture into daylight,
emerging from the winters
and persuasions of the past
Hear it in the common greeting,
the vendor’s call, the scholar’s tone
Hear it there, but most of all
hear it circulate in the unburdened
laughter of our children,
as they remember the freedom
of their unobstructed nature
and build their strength for collaboration
not purely for survival,
so that when they stumble in their growth
over their own unavoidable sins
they will have learned how to forgive
not merely how to stay alive
If you give them this,
you give them everything
And everything
will be safer in their keeping
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
These are from a little book I put together 23 years ago....just after my wild awakening journey.
High Joke
A secret smile shines within
When I remember my true home
Beings of love bounce in and out
Of eachother's dreams
Creating for all
Friends play enemies
And together we laugh at the aftermath
And watch the puppets below
Who take themselves so seriously
Should we remind them
Of what they could be
If they let go
Of what they think they know?
Super-conscious Mind Star
Tune into the moon and see
I are Us?
In a playful madness
Let's do it
In tiny movements
Bash down the fortress of ideas
That perpetuates divisions
Find the invisible star
That hides behind its sister
Intuitive reasoning placates
Opposition like a mirror
Reflecting the illusion further
And Pyramid people are still
Hidden in the deep wells
that reach beneath out toes
Roots that forge through blackness
In dreams
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
I, like Bill,interpreted the thread to include poetry that influenced, not necessarily something we wrote ourselves. The poem ‘The Hollow Men’, by TS Elliot reasonated with me from about the age of ten on. You will recognize the refrain, “ this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, this is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a wimper”. http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets...ot/poems/15120
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Thanks for all so far. i did mean one we wrote ourselves. but fine either way
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
If You Think You're Special
Centuries past hold infinite humanity
Filled with dreams, thoughts, creativity
Lives upon lives
Seas of men
All seeking truth from beginning to end.
So who are you to think you're unique?
Your life has been lived, or so to speak,
in ages past, by millions of men,
And you'll live in the future
Again and again.
Wrote it in 1971 :sun:
(FUN thread! Will have to dig up some more.)
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
A House
A house is there to enter
and close the door
and be with myself
and sometimes with my friend Ya
* I was still a school kid. Don’t know if it counts ;)
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
This poem is entitled “Station”
I wrote it in a train station in 2001
A skip, a beat
A whistle, a meet
The sound echoes and marches
Soaring to high beams,
Like the gentle captivation of a soul
Or a lovers thirst quenched,
Pass me by
With a quick glance or turn of the eye,
For what once was in the present
Is now in the past,
Like the train from the station,
I’m gone
In a glance.
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Ode to the morning
As twilight lifts its golden
hues
and dewy grass is all
anew
the fresh the ripe
colours all
reflects the constant
changing pall
and with each day
that dawns
the mornings minion dauphin calls
resplendent, bright
and flashing
Sept. 1990
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
ode to a goldfish
Wet Pet
;)
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Ode to Algie (Al-Gee)
Algie saw the bear
The bear saw Algie
The bear was bulgie
The bulge was Algie.
Me: 1979
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
there all great, thanks everyone for sharing. scotland, you do get duly noted for economy
i think Mohammed Ali once said,,,"me we"
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Quote:
Posted by
Melinda
In Their Keeping
Men and women of power and rank
gather together and begin again
Begin with a moment of stillness
and in the stillness renew yourselves
Renew the ground on which you stand,
your name, your duty and your oaths
Gather together
Begin again
and write your intention earnestly
in the dawning hues
of the summit’s rose,
in colour and in silent deed
as you deign to alter meanings
and dismantle old machineries
Unload the guns and lay them
on the warm, forgiving earth
Defuse the shells and quiet the
lusting edges of the steel blades
Empty the tanks of their heavy fuel
and let the wind whistle her song
through the new, uncluttered air
of their surrendered,
weary metal lungs
Revisit the far away places
where ideas were manifested
in deathly, oft-anonymous noise
and sweep the glass and bullets
that lie at the feet of
the blameless, ordinary man
who tries, with every passing day,
to walk the streets
as if all has not been lost
Mend the ache in his beaten back
Allow his crops once more to rise
Restore the light in his broken home
even if in doing so
you can’t restore it to his eyes
But most of all
in all of this peaceful and necessary undoing
reverse the damage of the lies,
the ones that said we were mistaken
and which, in doing so, have taken
such a mighty toll
on consciousness and sanity,
on our collective soul
Give us back the dignity
which has so long been defiled
by betrayals and false appraisals
and truths that were denied
Men and women of power and rank
gather together and begin again
Begin with a moment of stillness
and in the stillness renew yourselves
Renew the ground on which you stand,
your name, your duty and your oaths
Write your intention
with open eyes,
with unrestrained humility
in signs a hundred miles high
that reach with dedication
and redeeming tenderness
out into the ether and
across the miles of wounded sky
Then marvel as it purifies
the early morning rain
which will fall into the rivers
and the open reservoirs,
fall in celebration
that is yours and finally ours,
fall from the heavens and the clouds
into the eyes and open mouths
that mark the faceless epitaphs
of thirsting generations
Write it with the omnipotent inks
that flow from reformation
Then hear the realisation of its efforts
resonate at last,
chiming through the multitudes
as they venture into daylight,
emerging from the winters
and persuasions of the past
Hear it in the common greeting,
the vendor’s call, the scholar’s tone
Hear it there, but most of all
hear it circulate in the unburdened
laughter of our children,
as they remember the freedom
of their unobstructed nature
and build their strength for collaboration
not purely for survival,
so that when they stumble in their growth
over their own unavoidable sins
they will have learned how to forgive
not merely how to stay alive
If you give them this,
you give them everything
And everything
will be safer in their keeping
Melinda, what an exceptional and beautiful poem.
Thank you.
:star::star::heart::star::star:
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Written in 1972
Frustrations of a gogglebox
It's standing there with it's big dim eye
Quenched, gone to sleep like an owl
Maybe not asleep
Waiting to burst forth with confusion
The command of a hand, the flick of a switch
It draws them away to something unreal
to where they want to be
Do they know where they want to be
But now its late they've gone to rest
They've gone off to their bed
I wonder if it's mad that they cut it dead
Just because they wanted to go to bed
JB
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
East Sun written in 72 so was wondering what a goggle box was. i thought maybe you meant google? lol was it a game?
Re: Share one poem from your younger days
Quote:
Posted by
thepainterdoug
East Sun written in 72 so was wondering what a goggle box was. i thought maybe you meant google? lol was it a game?
Hi Doug,
It's a TV, an appropriate name imo. In my day we were google-eyed by the TV.
Please read it again and see it as a personification of what we were obsessed with in those days.
It takes on a human form. ha ha