Mindscape
The wings of darkness
enter my portal of solace
revealing to the inner me
the constellations of my dreams
where no mortal flies.
The harbinger of fate’s hand
is played out in the frigid vast
assumptions of ones thoughts
adds new food for the table
of our troubled lives.
The sentinel stillness
watches from the towers
with the guardians on mountains
of our choosing mind.
The labyrinth of energy
where our atoms are stored
may itself becomes an atom
of some large working store.
30 October 2009
Author's Note:
Please take this poem as a poets flight with fantasy and nothing more.
poem by David Harris
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Child Abuse
How many pleas go unanswered
as their cries echo through the night?
Too many, I am afraid to say
as we hear about child abuse almost every day.
Committed by those who are most trusted,
our guardians of the young
are the ones who defile
the young lives in their care.
What about those who are abused
will they become abusers one day
for the treatment they have received?
That question will remain unanswered
until sometime in future years.
15 October 2009
Author's Note:
Although this poem may depict that all child carers are abusers, they are not. Although in the news in England of late there have been several cases in which child abusers have been people who were in charge of children. I wish now to apologise to the genuine carers that are perfectly innocent if they feel offended by my poem.
This poem was written to underline a question do those abused in turn become abusers.
DVH 15/10/09
poem by David Harris
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Trash and Treasure
So different we are in so many a way
That, every body knows I do not have to say
In case you do not know, here I will cite a few
See how luckless we are and fortunate are you
At times you do not eat, just for the lack of mood
Desirability of food in the table
Decides if you will eat or the meal just ignore
Often we do not eat, because of lack of food
Availability of food in the table
Determines if ever we eat or not at all
Sometimes your kind of food strays to our larder
Not via the grocer, a courier or waiter
But via garbage dump we rake painstakingly
For food and anything of value there might be
And when you go shopping In a department store
You choose the clothes you wear by the size or color
By the brand or trade mark, It must be signature
To us size and color matter not anymore
We cannot be choosy or be meticulous
Whatever comes our way, make do, accept we should
For these things come to us via similar route
Which is the garbage dump, we do not have a choice
And the roof that we have Inches above our heads
Are materials you throw away, considered waste
After your palaces and villas you have built
Your trash are wealth for us, possessions we cherish
Author's Note: In third-world countries, many people depend on garbage cans and garbage dumps for their subsistence. This poem is about them.
poem by Pacific Hernandez
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The Quantum Of Solace
When in distress you look for solace
But, know there is always a certain
Quantum of solace, in place,
In your mind space,
Reach it in peace and in no pace
That zone which can comfort you
In difficulties is within you
And get hold of it as and when you need
The quantum varies with people
Based on their impressions
Of the occurrings outside
You can enhance this solace domain
By trying to understand you, especially
Your nature and your reacting-to-situations pattern
Quantum of solace is least among those
Who wants to be special
Because of their haste
And note, not prompt, responses to demands
Quantum of solace improves
With weighed responses
Assessing situations objectively
And not self-biasedly or subjectively
An attempt to understand
Your standing is the essence
Of enlarged quantum of solace
Real mentors are those
Who have a very large solace quantum
And indirectly share their solacing space
To those who ask for comfort
You can do that too
And achieve that level
Where you require no solace
As you stay ever in peace
Irrespective of situations you are in
A self-directed exercise
To examine yourself
To scan your thoughts
To trace your dreams
And to develop skills to direct them,
Instead of their directing you,
Will make you yourself
A solace to others, who need comfort in distress
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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A Food For Everything!
Meals are the food for the body;
Knowledge is the food for the mind;
Meditation is the food for the spirit;
Music is the food for the love of heart;
Dreams are the food for the consciousness;
Prayer is the food for the Almighty;
Love is the food for the living heart;
Thoughts are the food for the brain;
Colourful ink is the food for the pen;
Ideas are the food for the stories;
Truth is the food for the will;
Sun’s energy is the food for the plants;
Plants are the food for the living beings;
But one man’s food is another man’s poison!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Between My Horse's Wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse's wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse's wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse's wings
She guards the guardian Story poem
The dragon soars on silver wings
and as he flies the dragon sings.
Of where he’s been and what he’s done.
Since first he hatched beneath the sun
He can despite his mighty size,
dance in the air so gracefully
He is the focus of all eyes
His audience watch gratefully.
His singing voice a baritone.
He sings a love song to his mate
Condemned for now to wait alone.
The dragon’s flight decreed by fate.
A dragon’s task is to protect
And this is what he means to do
He does not know what to expect
But does as fate has bid him to
It might be just a false alarm.
Although he is prepared to fight
to shield his people from all harm
A sacred duty and a right.
He disappears into the blue
too high too far for us to see
And does what guardians have to do
He then returns triumphantly.
Another battle he has won.
Swiftly returns to join his mate.
He is a doughty champion
a fact that we appreciate.
Earth bound; again the dragon sings.
His vibrant tones rise to the skies
Enfold his mate within his wings.
She lies content with half closed eyes
He must renew his energy.
In case some challenge should arise.
She snuggles in contentedly.
The dragoness for she is wise.
He has his task and she has hers.
A joint responsibility
The dragoness knows what she prefers
to lie together quietly.
But she accepts without demur.
He has no choice but play his part.
She knows he will return to her.
She is the keeper of his heart.
09/07/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com.poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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It would be a poor thing to be an atom in a universe without physicists, and physicists are made of atoms. A physicist is an atom's way of knowing about atoms.
quote by George Wald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Between My Horse's Wings (Expanded)
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings
Between My Horse's Wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
The wind rushing forcefully
Through my long dark hair
The feel of the cool air
Beneath the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy
The muscles work powerfully
To drive us into the night
The stars wink like little lights
Above the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As I ride over the ocean and sea
My muscles tense as I hold
My skin red from the windy cold
Flowing past the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
I revel in this dangerous ecstasy
A silvery mane blows in my face
Blown back, by the wind we race
Born on by the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
As we fly through the air swiftly
My face is lifted toward the sky
Arms outstretched, wind rushing by
The beating of the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
Faster and faster, we seem to fly
The wind tugging at my body
As I look to the heavenly bodies
Shining on the horse’s wings
Is this real, or is this fantasy?
My horse flies gracefully
Over the fields and streams
Are these things only my dreams?
Sitting between the horse’s wings
poem by Horse Poet
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Mantis and Chameleon Combined
MANTIS AND CHAMELEON COMBINED
Mantis and chameleon combined
In sorrow-smile strange siren spectrum sings.
Rainbow surface spins unfathomed rings,
Intense emotions stirs. Heart, unassigned,
Awaits soft spell but enters hell, won't bind.
Much time is wasted, time whose acid stings
Must dreams dissolve, naught solve. Vain vampire wings
Each night takes flight, though fantasy, resigned,
No spice retains, scope wanes as hopes unwind.
Defensive moats must lapse, emotions bring
Ease, understanding, joy in everything,
Serenity with sharing redefined.
Mobility of spirit and of mind
Must self-acceptance learn, fears leave behind.
30 October 2001 revised 25 April 2009
robi03_0956_robi03_0000 ASX_DEU
Mantis and Chameleon Combined poem (c) Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Overbird
O = Once upon the midnight enter hurry
V = Verily the hurry worry enter scurry
E = Eerily or early bird of enter Poe
R = Raven is only one huge enter Crow
B = Better to see them from the
distance of the hour glasses with
thick lenses enter Tommy use your eye
I = Intense discussion rules get broken
enter time to turn the worm over
enter into the night
R = Roman Judges rule nothing enter Rome
not one stone standing of the Jewish enter
temple now
D = Describe the Vulture in the Temple its
got wings of darkness its got red eye
with long black enter nose this time
this poem enter perfect prose
poem by Charles Hice
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The Essence of my Dreams
Losing myself in flight on an early summer's morning-
In flight, unaware of the direction-
Unaware of the time of day, I know that
I don't believe in heaven anymore-
In flight above deep blue mountains-
But not weary of the sun's rays attacking me-
Never touching the sun and
Never finding my rainbow,
A myriad of colors are painting the sky-
Though only inside the world of my imagination.
Losing myself in flight and wondering-
If I will ever find safety and peace of mind here in the sky,
Amongst the scattered clouds that surround me-
I could hide behind a cloud to escape reality-
Reality that has become none but a threat to my existence.
Within the figment of my imagination-
I have wings that carry me high above the mountains,
Above the treetops and the ocean turning green as
Its waves lap against the shore-
A multitude of colors are decorating the land below-
Trees are never green but violet in their hue and
That ocean- green but never blue as are the mountains-
In flight I am losing myself in so many different ways-
Separating myself from the world into which I was born-
My mind is creating visions of far away places and
Inside the fortress of my mind, God has given me wings to fly with,
Although I do not believe in heaven-
Within moments I find myself lying upon the ground-
The sky, cloud covered as rain begins to pour down upon me-
I am a lost, lone, and confused spirit-
Threatened by sounds of cars speeding up and down the road behind me-
And people shouting while thunder claps and lightening strikes.
Voices inside of mind are commanding me
To lift my wings and take flight once again-
However I am trapped, being unable to fly, my wings having been phantasmal-
Though inside my dreams I can swim the ocean, searching for safety and familiarity-
Perhaps I shall find myself an island amongst the sea-
But alas only in my dreams-
And perhaps the rain shall stop falling and a rainbow shall rise above the mountains-
Inside the world of my thoughts I shall paint the sky blue and cloudless,
Lift my wings and soar back into the sky and look down-
Down at this world where I have always wished to escape from-
Happiness shall be found within the world of my imagination-
Violet hued trees - their branches swaying in the wind
May someday give me shade as I close my eyes and dream,
Then I shall burst into song, in chorus with the voices inside my mind-
I have peace of mind now knowing I can be anyplace I can fathom-
Because I am a person who though never believed in heaven-
Strongly believes in the essence of my dreams…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Finding Solace
We all have troubled times
when days are full of woe
we need to find solace
but we don't know where to go.
So we look for it in drink
but that can make things worse
some even end up in hospital
looked after by a nurse.
Others find comfort with food
but too much can make you overweight
they say I'll cut back soon
but by then it can be far too late.
A lot look for comfort with Cigarettes
saying it brings solace to their need
but then they can become addicted
to the dangerous dreaded weed.
Many go searching for religion
hoping to find peace along the way
but as soon as things start to go wrong
they give up and don't bother to even pray.
So where can we find comfort and solace?
it's a lot harder to obtain than you think
if it's not in food, drugs, or the church,
and not in Tobacco and the demon drink.
What about if it doesn't even exist?
and solace can't be found anywhere,
we may discover it's all in the mind
and you won't find it as it's not even there!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Many Do Have Their Doubts About This
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
What and 'Who' we refer to as being God...
Is more than just an image.
We are 'cells' within a Mind,
So magnificent...
This 'Greatness' has chosen,
To keep our own minds blind.
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
Like fruit picked from a tree.
Or from a vine to peel.
Under the skin...
That's where the deliciousness,
Carried within us is revealed.
And the trees support us with air to breathe.
We take for granted,
The ease presented by this complexity.
Yes...
Many do have their doubts about this.
But we are that 'energy' on Earth,
Reflecting image.
An energy that reflects,
From the Sun...
As it is given.
And how this is done,
Adds to the mystery of 'IT'.
And 'something' tells me very soon...
We are going to learn much more,
About our existence!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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My Canadian Chronicles 21
With gossamer wings,
standing in the shadows of the sun
the angel stood observing
silently waiting to help anyone
whose despair was tearing
at their lonely soul.
A guardian angel
standing in the shadows of the sun.
14 June 2009
Author’s Note:
This poem was inspired by a painting by my very dear friend Melvina Germain.
poem by David Harris
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For All The Poets
FOR ALL THE POETS
This is a poem for all the poets who have no name,
For all those who have written and failed,
And for those who have not written,
And failed.
This is a poem for all the poets who dreamed themselves poets,
And were never, and will be known as poets
To the world.
This a poem for all those
Who after years of effort
Still live in an oblivion
They will die in.
This is a poem for all those
Who whether they have poetry in them or not,
Will never be heard or read,
For what their hearts must tell
Someone else.
This is a poem for all the silent poets
Those who live in silence
And whose silence is eternal
For all those whose only poetry
is the poem they have lived within themselves.
This is a poem for all those who would- be poets
And a poem for those
Who despite their efforts
Did not make their poem known.
This is a poem which may be for you,
And I know is for me
A confession
To make us less alone.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pay For Defection!
Someday you have to go alone,
Alone you came, bear handed,
Went and came bear handed
Million times,
Still that remains strange,
All that I know, everyone has to sleep alone,
Wife or child, pet or flowers,
No one to sleep with,
Family or friends
No one to laugh with,
No one to talk with,
No one likes to come with!
Not even the body and mind,
Not even the intelligence and reasoning,
Not even the money or mansion,
Not even that gold or pension!
Only look at that mortal scrap of the robot,
That played with ego,
useless and degradable food for
worms and germs!
Alone one will be on this journey,
even when one is in sleep or on walk,
One has carry his own cross,
On which one get crucified for,
Thoughts and Deeds,
one's own actions and Words!
That resurrect one back,
To suffer or enjoy once more!
Alone one was always,
Pushed away by waves,
Fall away ocean to shore,
Where once again that same cycle,
Playing with shells of dead mother of pearls,
Running here and there to food and shelter,
Cloths for this froth,
Working for home and looking for someone!
Dreaming in ignorance,
When thread of thoughts are torn,
One will be no where, no
Withered flower comes back,
Everyone moves with his own backpack,
Full with cause and effects,
no one ever born,
only born were
Matter and energy,
Time and space,
cause and effect,
One has to correct his own defects
For that defection with his own Truth!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Who Is This Mortal
Who is this mortal
Who ventures to-night
To woo an immortal,
Cold, cold the moon's light
For sleep at this portal,
Bold lover of night.
Fair is the mortal
In soft, silken white,
Who seeks an immortal.
Ah, lover of night,
Be warned at the portal,
And save thee in flight!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Beyond
It has three parts:
1) Body poems: hand in the darkness, eye in the darkness, mouth in the darkness, nose in the darkness, teeth in the darkness, legs in the darkness, belly in the darkness, forehead in the darkness, fingers in the darkness.............etc
2) Body machine: I am not a human being, I can fly! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
3) Sky poem: I am writing the alphabet 'KA'(meaning 'dance') in the sky or vacant sky.
I make this poem from performance to performativism poem.
You can perform my poem now! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Have vital life! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Dark Angel...
Shadows merge from within the soul,
Revealing an inner beaty so devine,
Like the most beautiful poem your words caress me,
A sirens song beckoning me into your darkness,
I am powerless to resist the very thought you,
You dance through my dreams and haunt my thoughts,
You are the dark angel that I have become so addicted to,
The one who has the power to make me whole again,
When shall my dreams become a beautiful reality? ...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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