Point of View
Disappearance may be seen as blacked
inflexion of the light, as true reflection
at once restores to insight all that's lacked,
nor contradictions shows. On introspection
enlightenment returns, is stored in...tact...
10 November 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Elighten And Enlightenment
something disturbs
me about the verb
to enlighten and the
word
enlightenment:
as a kid,
-i mean when i was, ....
sometimes I am.... childish and
and unworried irresponsible....party no party gay...-
being enlightened
had to have
some connection with light...
the sun of the day's light,
the candle's light by night,
someone flashes light into your face with force,
or
someone deprive you from light so you can see it
better...
as a kid
light and enlightenment
were two identical twins....
it took me
years....
i mean decades....to figure out that
being enlightened
has nothing to do with light
(any form of photonic, electric-magnet, hi frequency vibration, and strings energy....)
a touch is is an enlightenment,
being disturbed is an enlightenment,
freeing you chest is one of the greatest personal discovery....
being nice is an enlightenment...
being a prince-
....high rank, no starts, multi-galaxies explorer, self earned respect-
being a f-Uker in a good way...i Woman's energy sucker....
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Reflection
Reflection
By: Adam M. Snow
The reflection in this cracked mirror shows only two;
my essence, my soul; it's also true.
My soul is tainted, my essence is numb;
my dreams grew dark, this is what I've become.
My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
what else do you want me to say?
The rippling water's a mist how can that be?
Do I exist to be with thee?
I am cracked and so is my reflection;
these wounds, they show my affection.
Though I am but one in a reflection of two;
trying to find my place anew.
So let my reflection show who I am;
someone who was to be damned.
Let me be but one;
so that I may be done.
My reflections strain drops of blood;
just leave me here in the mud.
My eyes are stained, my touch is cold;
all I need is someone to hold.
My mouth is silent, my love breaks;
my body's bound, my soul aches.
I am but one in the mirror's looking glass;
looking upon my modern pass.
When will my reflection show;
the truth I do not dare to know?
My reflection is cracked; I'm out of place;
my heart grows cold, I need your grace.
I'm falling apart; I've lost my way;
I'm waiting here for the day.
My skin grew pale, did I died?
I'm here in this corner trying to hide.
My sight has gone; it's the break of dawn;
I'm going back to where it spawned.
The mirror's shattered, not my reflection;
from what I've done this is my infection.
I've been risen yet I fall;
I can't give up on all.
My reflection's viewing pains;
showing me bound by these chains.
I'm forced to face myself in this state;
the mirror shows, this is my fate.
My reflection is broken yet it's whole;
I'm out in the world searching for my life's role.
I'm reaching out through the dark;
searching for the owner of this black mark.
Nevermore does my reflection show;
I'm lost with no where to go.
The mirror's lust has felled;
this is where I dwelled.
My tears fall upon reflection;
this is my resurrection.
The cracked mirror now shows one;
could it be that it's now done?
My reflection's anew;
it's also true.
I'm not the same:
I ignite my flame.
The mirror's now whole with no crack in sight;
I'm no longer in the dark, but the light.
I only love; I do not hate;
I know now that this is my fate.
I faced myself in the mirror;
now that I can see, it's all so clearer.
My ways I've change from what I've became;
I'm the only one to blame.
My reflection is cracked no more;
my pain is gone just like before.
My future is nearer;
all ‘cause I looked in the mirror.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Birthday Letter for Lucinda
Let this, your eighteenth birthday, offer you
Unique joy, and understanding’s light,
Cha[lle) nging uncertainties you might
In future face tomorrow with steps true.
New horizons open up, and through
Determination, courage, sage insight, -
All needed if you wish to win the fight
Life weighs against us joy may come. Thus to
Unknown regions venture. Much to do.
Completion still awaits, true wings for flight.
In life stay true to tenets you feel right,
Never betraying principles, virtue.
Decide to use your mind and you will find
A new world welcome, - work up from behind...
© Jonathan Robin – acrostic sonnet robi3_0593_robi3_0000 LUCINDA written 5 August 1992
poem by Jonathan Robin
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It Goes Unrecognized
It goes unrecognized,
And they despise it.
Yet it is their own reflection.
They do not like what they see at all.
But it is their own reflection.
They speak of ills and detriment.
Of evil doings and misdeeds sent.
They talk of maintaining standards...
With values meant.
But none of this means anything,
Since they can not see themselves at all...
Through any of their sentiments!
Every thing that is said,
They want to believe.
But what is in their heads...
Isn't the lives they lead!
It goes unrecognized,
And they despise it.
Contradictions like these,
Bleed!
It goes unrecognized,
And they despise it.
Yet it is their own reflection.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Enlightenment
Chop that wood
Carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Every second, every minute
It keeps changing to something different
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
It says its non attachment
Non attachment. non attachment
Im in the here and now, and Im meditating
And still Im suffering but thats my problem
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Wake up
Enlightenment says the world is nothing
Nothing but a dream, everythings an illusion
And nothing is real
Good or bad baby
You can change it anyway you want
You can rearrange it
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Chop that wood
And carry water
Whats the sound of one hand clapping
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
All around baby. you can see
Youre making your own reality. everyday because
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
One more time
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you
Enlightenment. dont know what it is
Its up to you everyday
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its always up to you
Enlightenment, dont know what it is
Its up to you, the way you think
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unearth Rough Diamond
Sight rough diamond
still dirt embedded
in clinging dust debris
of parent prison earth.
Chance salient rays
of probe light shining
show carrot promise
lying locked therein.
When prominent washed
diamond is grasped held
in affirmed gem revealing
white introspective light.
But rough diamond
while fate unearthed
was never cut hidden
missing morning light.
Predetermined
a jeweled
alluring
counterpoise.
Set off twist filigree golden
as amulet eye orb disc light
commanding introspection
a sphere of enlightenment.
Diamond in the rough
awaits future incarnations.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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It Is Not A Reflection Of You
The evil that you experience, feel, how abusive people react to you, their false impressions of you, estimates of you, responses to you, is a reflection of their evil, prejudice, blindness, of their lack of development, it is not a reflection of you, of your abilities, intent, it is not an impression of the impression you make, it is a reflection of them, their limitations and ignorance. Their being distorts good, mocks love, an amplifies weakness, such have, are become, such are fake, superficial enlightenment, unconscious.
poem by Michael Kavuoti
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In These Days and Times
It is easy to discredit
Those who have made names for themselves.
Despite the backbiting and the envy concealed by some.
Something childish we 'might' have all once done!
Than it is to maintain an ego...
Full of self and free of reflection,
To detect corrections an introspection makes.
It takes a determined stamina...
Freed of grandeur and awe,
To administer an encouragement.
That is left behind to instill a nourishment!
If this message is not sent,
As it is meant to flourish those...
With less influence they can impose.
Then those who find their fame have no lasting value...
Have used their gifts for naught.
And producing these deeds to feed such an ego,
Has not induced minds...
Needing to be fed enlightenment,
In these days and times!
A selfishness to hoard such talents and gifts...
Leave with the ones they came with.
And nothing of subsistence considered substance,
Can be passed to nurture that is left behind!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lessons Needed To Adjust
Once one stops objecting,
To lessons needed to adjust to this life...
And begins to learn from experiences,
With a growing insight that produces more light...
Upon one's mind with enlightenment,
There is little those less motivated...
Can share about what it is they believe and see.
Especially from a limited perspective.
And the degree to which that acceptance,
Is applied!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The reflection in the mirror
The reflection in the mirror is an unrecognisable figure,
I don't know this man, but I know his sins.
I'm getting pushed aside further and further,
where did my life end or when did it begin?
The reflection in the mirror tells me I'm lost,
wandering furiously towards the butterflies tears,
then into the lions den, my spirtis tossed,
all because of my refelections fears.
The reflection in the mirror is a brave, mighty soldier,
me? - am just a meek wounded mortal,
I used to be my aspiration, but now it's all ciphered,
and in my skin you breathe and nestle.
The reflection in the mirror shows me who I am,
but to like what I see gazing back would be a lie,
and in lifes race, to which I feel I've outswam,
this reflection will stare fiercley back at me until the day I die.
poem by D.A. Woods
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Disappearance
The disappearance of yourself
is not within your sight.
We push it away
somehow in fright.
Surely we shall always
be here, not gone,
always able to see
a bright new dawn.
The disappearance of yourself
is indescribable and yet
the thought surfaces
as we recognize the threat.
We see our loved ones
and friends all leave,
bringing us a reminder of
disappearance and we cleave
to this life of ours
until our dying days
and believe it to be
just a passing phase.
Beliefs are strong
and so it must be
that the end of our road
will set us free.
They may not see you
though you still are here.
No regrets my friends,
we'll not disappear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Let Go Of Yesterday's Sunset
Whether you like the position you are in or not,
You are better off in being my partner.
Than you are remaining in opposition to it.
And what the times we are living in represent,
To continue stubbornly remaining insisting we are foes?
Let go of yesterday's sunset.
Embrace what's on the horizon as it shows.
Enlightenment is there as bright as the eye can see.
Open your mind and lower your nose.
How has that mentality you've kept to reflect death of progress,
Been to your benefit?
Where and when has your display of indifference,
Sustained you with an advantage to obtain gains?
Without the enforcement endorsed by your fading influence.
Let go of yesterday's sunset.
Embrace what's on the horizon as it shows.
Enlightenment is there as bright as the eye can see.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Write The Contradictions Of My Heart
I WRITE THE CONTRADICTIONS OF MY HEART
I write the contradictions of my heart
I give them to you freely-
But you have your own contradictions
And where are they in relation to mine?
We share what we are
But also do not-
I write for you
And you are silent for me-
And I thank you guiltily
for the blessing of your listening.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The disappearance of the Jewish state will not mean the disappearance of anti-Semitism.
quote by Jack Schwartz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bliss Beams Light
Bursting bright, baring intimate enlightenment,
ecstastatic surprise spans souls sharing insight.
Light weaving laughter assuages inhibitions -
henceforth superfluous - brings belonging's magic
Eternal bliss personnified, naught denied: Song of Songs is this.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Black And White
He painted a picture all white and black
because in his life all color did he lack.
He lacked the yellow of the sun each day
for the sun had never come his way.
He lacked the green of fresh green grass
for the cement of the city he couldn't get past.
He lacked the blue of the sky above
for no one had ever shown him love.
He lacked the red that the rose did give
for no roses grew where he did live.
He lacked all color from his sight.
All he knew was black and white.
The picture he painted could never tell
of how his life became a living hell.
He'd lost his sight when he was three
and the colors were a lost memory.
His sole memory was of dark and light,
night being dark, day being white.
And now he created art to define
everything that was in his mind.
But beauty came from the paint he used.
The black and white became infused
with the extracted senses of who he was,
a man filled with passion for what he does.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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White And Black
He painted a picture all white and black
because in his life all color did he lack.
He lacked the yellow of the sun each day
for the sun had never come his way.
He lacked the green of fresh green grass
for the cement of the city he couldn't get past.
He lacked the blue of the sky above
for no one had ever showed him love.
He lacked the red that the rose did give
for no roses grew where he did live.
He lacked all color from his sight.
All he knew was black and white.
The picture he painted could never tell
of how his life was a living hell.
He'd lost his sight when he was three
and the colors were a lost memory.
His sole memory was of dark and light,
night being dark, day being white.
And now he created art to define
everything that was in his mind.
But beauty came from the paint he used.
The black and white became infused
with the extracted senses of who he was,
a man filled with passion for what he does.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Cannot Escape My Own Contradictions
I CANNOT ESCAPE MY OWN CONTRADICTIONS
I cannot escape my own contradictions-
Night and day feelings war in me
I do not know how and where I am
With all these pains and sorrows griefs and joys and ecstasies-
And too the mild small happy and unhappy perceptions-
I climb a mountain and fall down at the same time
Life puts me under the ground and skyhigh with
my dreams
In conflicting seconds-
Why am I so much of what I don’t know I am?
And how is this different from what we all are when we are true to our own minds and hearts
And all they are and are not?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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On the tip of your tongue.
You know, you know but can't explain
Just how or why you came to gain.
The facts stored in your memory.
Odd facts stored subconsciously.
For no good reason seemingly.
Stored away haphazardly.
Though ev'ry fact our mind has stored.
It had some reason to record.
A nugget added to the hoard.
A vast accumulation
Of useless information.
We very seldom call upon.
But when we do it's sad but true
We find that we cannot renew.
The direct link that leads us to.
The word or phrase we want to find.
Amongst those hidden in our mind.
The system is not well designed.
We can't recover what we've stored.
Our efforts totally ignored.
Our mind decides it can't afford.
To grant unlimited access.
Although it leaves us free to guess. The reason for such stubbornness.Thursday,12 April 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Soul Essence Hungry
soul
essence
hungry
insight
instinct
awarenes s
hardship
struggle
enlightenment
poem by Terence George Craddock
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