my logic in a tartan knapsack of my
scientific mind,
i searched until i found who
was who, looking for the
essence that is me
behind the pontifications of the
ego that would be mine
i traveled every well-known path
worn and frayed around the edges
until i was smooth as a
stone in the river of my being,
i trudged the meanings of what it means
to be until
immersed with every shade of green
in the constancy of my open heart
echoing pineapple winds of change
i thought love had died with God, the world
was so real with these divisions of humanity
that kill the soft-eyed child inside
and so i wandered the silent room of awe
bestowed in resurrections and awakening
how on earth does Spring come forever
when i must die
in these passages through?
in these spinnings
balancing
my mind
ascending in awareness
but for the grace,
but for this magnificent obsession
unfolding this moment now here
all is déjà vu
all is my poem of how i came to be.
Comments
Dear Anna
Welcome back...no comments ...just applause..
Welcome back Anna, its good to see you,
and to read you again. This is very good, As usual there is little to critique, except for "soft-eyed child", which gives me a slightly disturbing image of a child's eyes being physically soft. I think I would have used "wide-eyed child" or something similar instead.
Anna
Like you over my years I've tryed to find me, but the well known path lead back to the domestication of me.
So I took the road less travel. There i found me right in front of the smoke cleared mirror the world had try to hide from me. now I see my dream and not the worlds dream to domesticate me with it's fog.
I am so happy to see you back writing such honest thoughts of yourself.
Thanks for posting Amiga!
Eddie C.
Anna
Is a welcome back in order? Nice poem
Mona
Oh, did I go somewhere? Was
Oh, did I go somewhere? Was I unaware? Thanks for the welcome back any day, any way.
Jim, I too had misgivings on *soft-eyed child*. Children have such soft, light-filled eyes unless they are mistreated and abused. If you look into adult eyes, often you can see the hardness, the rigidness, the blank stare, sometimes it's even frightening.
~A
Example: " Melobosis and Thoe and handsome Polydora, Cerceis lovely of form, and soft eyed Pluto, Perseis, Ianeira, Acaste, Xanthe, Petraea the fair, Menestho, and Europa, Metis, and Eurynome, and Telesto saffron-clad, Chryseis and Asia and charming Calypso, Eudora, and
— Hesiod, Homeric Hymns, and Homerica
I don't know
You ask did I go somewhere? I thought you did, thats all ..it's really just a figure of speech anyhow
Happy writing
And so was my answer, Mona.
And so was my answer, Mona.
Wherever you go, it's always "here".
~A
Misgivings
I think that soft-eyed is fine. Wide-eyed is a bit of an over used phrase, and to me, really didn't fit what you were going for with soft-eyed. (I vote leave soft-eyed as it is).
Hi blue, thanks for reading,
Hi blue, thanks for reading, I made some other changes, I think for the better.
~A
hello
enjoyed the poem and subject. Have a few alternative from this old rhymer you can consider :
s-1,l-1 change a to the or of to within
s-2,l-1 try.....all the well known paths....
.....l-6 I would isolate "until" in its own line to add impact
s-3,l-5 change in to with and awakening to awakenings
Just a couple ideas................scribbler
Yo Stan, the rhyming man..
Yo Stan, the rhyming man..
I had considered your considerations as I was writing the poem. If you read it as is, you might see
my rhyme and reason.
;-)
no prob
After all they are suggestions and only that. Only a writer can determine which words convey intended meaning best, I just throw out alternatives in case they Haven't been thought of lol..............stan
Here u r arguing with me 2
Here u r arguing with me 2 days after Mother's Day, what's up with that? It's *my* logic, I carry around, can't carry yours and theirs, too. My knapsack isn't large enough. lol.
Actually I have nothing inside my knapsack except a little starlight. And love.
;-)
Kailashana
You always present the reader with interesting ideas thats a gift that should be nurtured. Glad you're back. Nice write, no crit.
John
Thanks John.
Thanks John.
I agree, however that we are, is *a gift that should be nurtured*.
~A
satchel and soft illumination
i remember exhaustion
that time of specific slumber
the mind wary but at ease
intuition slowing like dusk
like a morning
the last rays and the first
in that light
I was a traveller fleeing
emotional persecution
and then I met the real
souls that moved in the
winds of restless change
the hunters burned by
terrible hungers that their
vision was charred and
scarred in that cold rigidity
born or crafted forever
in their manner
and those whom had that
immense value of internal
humility and strength they
shone like the light of an
oasis to the thirsty and parched
chosing their hearts over hurt
somewhere in the smoke of
fires in my reflections
of searching
I was blinded and diluted
and the sound of poetry
in my mind sang
and I become whole
scarred but whole
but my vision was forever
changed my eyes distant
and searching beyond the
most immediate
wary of the storms
always watching
enjoyed this poetry very
much I remember my
packs the travelling
light with a heavy heart
and exposed soul
those times of tests
and finding faith in
myself and in others
who still believed