I loved the Gibran poem Lula, thanks for sharing! How true it is that we transfer our unsatisfied needs to whatever takes our fancy... beyond the everyday consciousness, as you so beautifully put it.
I can`t write it by Russia,because is deleted when I write it,maybe this forum don`t read format of Russia language!!!Sorry!!! When I found come poetry by English I of course post it here!!!! Ok?
-- Edited by ILIA at 06:27, 2008-10-15
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:-)When the power of love overcomes the love of power,world will know peace:-) ~~~Jimmy Hendrix~~~
These are beautiful poems thankyou for sharing them everybody!
I too love poetry, I see it as a pure expression, beyond the everyday consciousness, aligned with the universal flow, even beyond the awareness of the poet...tapping into something deeper..more transcendent?
Kahlil Gibran is one of my favourite spiritual poets too Warped Woman, and I'm also deeply inspired by Rumi, who you quoted in the other thread Mara.
This is one of my favourite poems.
BEAUTY
And a poet said, "Speak to us of beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and where shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and injured say, "beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks amongst us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "Beauty is soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and wayfairers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "she shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "we have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied.
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting or an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear.
But rather an image you would see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw.
But rather a garden forever in bloom, and a flock of angels forever in flight.
People of Orphalese, Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face,
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
-- Edited by Lula at 08:02, 2008-10-12
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Holy plasma balls ~ Blake the Master Sorcerer ~ Magic in his hands
after reading the discussion on the movie Family Man yesterday and today.....I got to thinking about the classic poem......The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost.....
which then led me to this 'take' on the poem by someone called Sokarjo. It's called THAT OLD ROAD......Enjoy.....
"Two roads diverged" Said an older man Whose brow was furrow set "I took the one less travelled" Said he And I knew he'd not forget
The time he stood At the crossroads there And made his choice of two There was, of course No turning back And this he surely knew
For once we make A choice, we set A chain of next events And once we start The path we choose Fate often circumvents
But it is waste To ponder on What "could have happened when..." We take our chance And choose our road And don't look back again
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
YOu´re extremely kind. I´m average. But thanks! I gather you already speak more than one language, living in Tawain... And your studies prove you´re on your way to master them, you smart girl!
Aw....thanks Ilia....but no....I didn't write. I took a poem that Mara posted and changed it as if I'd written it to see how it flowed or 'spoke' to me that way.
Poetry is an amazing thing, isn't it?
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
You know what I did tonight? Your poem so moved me that I substituted the word 'loneliness' for 'myself'.... as if the poem were meant for me to learn from it or that I had perhaps written it myself.
This is how it goes when written that way.
Amazing really.....it fits my life to a T!
Gawd.....I just love poetry.....and how it feeds the soul!
First there is myself
Within the entrails and the chore of the soul:
This is the essence, the basic fact, the only certainty
That my breathing is my only companion
That I will dance with your shadow forever
That this darkness is me
My heart, that perxplexed fruit, does not need to go sour along with my solitary fate
Let me hope with no hope
For love is a gift that some day will arrive on its own accord.
But first there is myself
And I am lonely
I am left alone with my original sin.
Perhaps some night, at nine
Love will turn up and everything will be shattered and something will light up inside me
And I will become different, less bitter, more blissful
And not forget, especially in those moments
When love comes and burns inside me
That first and foremost there is myself
And later on just nothing
And after that, should it arrive, there is love.
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
Wow Mara....very, very profound poem. And very true. Love....in it's purest form arrives totally unexpectedly and with a fire that not only surprises you but brings you vibrantly alive. Those who take it for granted, in any of it's forms, are truly fools in my book.
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
Ok, here´s a poem I love very much, because it speaks the bare truth, no less. They say only prophets and very little children speak truthfully. Maybe that´s why truth is stubborn, like reality? LOL.
I couldn´t find it translated into English, so I was irresponsible enough to dare to translate it myself... I beg your pardon, Mr Jaramillo, if this deficient translation bothers you, because it certainly lessens the exquisite quality of the original... it´s only a humble offering born out of admiration for your work.
First there is loneliness.
Within the entrails and the chore of the soul:
This is the essence, the basic fact, the only certainty_
That your breathing is your only companion
That you will dance with your shadow forever
That this darkness is you.
Your heart, that perxplexed fruit, does not need to go sour along with your solitary fate_
Let him hope with no hope
For love is a gift that some day will arrive on its own accord.
But first there is loneliness
And you are loney
You are left alone with your original sin (with yourself).
Perhaps some night, at nine,
Love will turn up and everything will be shattered and something will light up inside you
And you will become different, less bitter, more blissful_
Thanks for joining in on the activity, Only Nic. Your choice of a poem is actually one of my favorite poems of all time! Too bad most people are actually incapable of such love.
Ya got anymore you wanna share?
-- Edited by Warped Woman at 21:31, 2008-10-04
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace I love thee to the level of every day's Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise; I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints- I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears of all my life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
I'm in the mood for some poetry tonight! Any topic goes.....
So.....come on....does anyone care to join me?
Sonnet XVII BY Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
745
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"Logical consequences are the scarecrows of fools and the beacons of wise men." ~~~Thomas Henry Huxley~~~
