D e m e n t i a
Chopped root, in the dark subsoil of the mind;
protected only by its own forgetfulness;
seeking occasionally, with weak desperation
for the light it once (perhaps?) remembers;
stabbing their own nearest, dearest kin
with the cold steel of unrecognition
as if of some betrayal: one day, a glance,
a careful question: ‘Are we… related? ’
And you – you have been singled out
for this unexplained great test
which gods within, without, us have devised:
call upon all you’ve ever learned, lived, won, been gifted:
love these beloved strangers
beyond all bonds, all bounds.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Sound Of Wings.....
from the bars of the cell,
i learned freedom from the body.
from the underside of the bridge,
i learned home has not a house.
from forty years of working,
i learned the bitterness of the slave.
from the political lies,
i learned that truth cant be bought.
from the books i read,
i learned to reason and question.
from the heroin needle,
i learned the value of life.
from love lost,
i learned how to love.
from doubt i learned seeking,
in seeking i found god to be more.
from the scars on my heart,
i learned to be a man.
from battles fought and lost,
i learned the need for peace.
from discrimination i learned equality,
from anger i learned forgiveness.
from the mirror i learned responsibility...
from the bars of the cell,
i learned the sound of wings!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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In the spirit of Rumi - 41 - Prayer
In the street outside the window
a beautiful young maiden passes;
only her eyes, looking straight ahead, demurely down,
are to be seen of her, above her veil, below her headscarf; and yet –
around her, as we draw our breath, transfixed –
around her, all the air is radiant with the light of love…
and in the following days, for hours each day,
we, love-smitten, wait in hope to catch her
as she passes; and the more we see her passing,
the more we seek to snare her attention;
hoping for the day when, as she passes,
her lovely eyes may glance so briefly, glance this way…
and on that day, the day of days
which we have waited for, for weeks and months -
then, it is no longer all we want:
how to ensnare her gaze? so that, one day,
our burning ears and lips may draw one single word from her…
*
Wise men say in the ancient tongue, the word,
to pray, meant, to incline, to listen – and, to snare…
and so for every one of us, our whole life is prayer:
from the first moment to the last,
from the first time when the baby’s eyes
meet those of loving parents, until
the last moment when our eyes turn upward…
we bow in adoration of the Beloved,
of whom we are not worthy; yet…
then listen for the first word breathed
by child; by parent; lover; ruler; God…
And, lover and beloved both alike,
set snares to catch our Beloved to ourselves…
that Beloved who is outside us, yet within…
that sleeping beauty who is our very self.
and, since prayer is love, our Beloved
sets snares for us also, to test our love;
this is the lovely game of love…
God plays it too with us:
to test our faith, to test our trust, to test our love…
Prayer, O Beloved, is pure love.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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In the spirit of Rumi - 6
My Beloved said
O my dearest one
what may I give to you,
ask of me what you may
I said to My Beloved,
O my dearest one,
give me whatever
may bring You closer to me
bring me closer to You
My Beloved said
Tell me O my dearest one
that I may give you that
which brings Me closer to you
I said to My Beloved
Send me pain and suffering
for when I cry out to You
then I am closest to you
O my dearest one
My Beloved said
I shall send you what you ask,
O my dearest one
It is called the world
and we two shall be one in it
and know it as our dream of love
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Endless Dark
Softly the light shines in through
gates of grace on me and you
deceiving our restless hearts
a flickering flame so serene
it fires the night so we could see
the feeling we hold on to so strong
and I know where I belong
away from your Gods
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
endless dark
this endless dark
Lonely the light shines on you
through the gates of fire entombed
feeding on your love
weak is the blaze that kept me away
from cruelty and tenderness embraced
saving my soul no more
and I know where I belong
away from your Gods
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
endless dark
this endless dark
I know where I belong
away from you Gods
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
that shines on you and tame your burning heart
that bury my truth right into your arms
that worship the tomb of our forlorn love
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
that heal all wounds and light this endless dark
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hey There Beloved
Hey there beloved why are you walking away from me?
Hey there beloved don't you know all those gifts are from me?
Hey there beloved I carried you through your storms
Hey there beloved come back to me
Hey there beloved don't you know I'm waiting with open arms
Hey there beloved I wish you were not blind but could turn back and see
Hey there beloved don't you notice my art?
Hey there beloved my love for you is in every night sky
Hey there beloved look for my love in the sunset
Hey there beloved, the sun is for you
Hey there beloved the coolness of clouds is for your enjoyment
Hey there beloved I love you
Hey there beloved You can walk away
Hey there beloved it makes me cry when you chase other lovers, but
Hey there beloved I'll let you go because I want you to choose me
Hey there beloved I want you to learn to love me
Hey there beloved don't go to them
Hey there beloved they cannot fill you up
Hey there beloved, I'll never give up on you
Hey there beloved I'm full of tears
Hey there beloved I made you for so much more
Hey there beloved you don't have to dress like that
Hey there beloved they don't really love you
Hey there beloved you're more than just a body
Hey there beloved you don't have to try to be something you're not
Hey there beloved I still love you
Hey there beloved you don't have to earn my love
Hey there beloved those things won't satisfy you
Hey there beloved heed my voice that path will destroy you
Hey there beloved you're broken, but
Hey there beloved my heart breaks for you
Hey there beloved can't you see the brokenness?
Hey there beloved why do you ignore me
Hey there beloved.... I love you with all that I am
Hey there beloved, that's everything there is
Hey there beloved I love you with my entire being
Hey there beloved that's grander than the universe itself
Hey there beloved you've strayed so far away
Hey there beloved I'll always call you back
Hey there beloved I'll always be waiting
Hey there beloved I still love y-
Hey there beloved h--
Hey there be-----
Hey--------
H--------
______ ______________
poem by David Knox
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In the spirit of Rumi - 10
I said to My Beloved
You have given me all Your love;
I have given You all my love;
what more can I give to You?
My Beloved said
If you love Me, then show your love
by seeing, knowing, all
that happens to you in your short life
as gifts from Me..
all events, all acts, all thoughts,
all seeming accidents, all illnesses,
all that arises from your meetings with others,
all their words to you –
see them all as Me
I said to My Beloved,
O My Beloved, my love is great
yet my will is weak;
I love You as I love life itself -
help me in this!
My Beloved said
It will not be easy; for
this will be the measure of your love for Me…
My help is this:
every time you see Me in some passing moment,
in some passing event in your life
be it harsh, or seem unfair— yes,
especially in this, my fiercely loving love -
you will know My love for you
as you have never known My love
for you so great, so pure
I said to My Beloved
This hard and lovely thing, O My Beloved,
will be the measure of my love for You.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Blistering Mark
delve in the dark and haunt all the nights
tired of the lies of that weak weak light
it goes to show your power has no effect
because your rays are so feeble
feebly glistening, supported by the dark
so the protectors gather around you
stand in the cathedral and see
see them pray for your growth
shielding you from bursting forth
then your turn on them like the traitor you are
it is light which has secrets, truth is far
you turn around and take your flight
burning their eyes and blinding them for life
and to say the truth, you know well how it goes
you call the dark your enemy, your friend and your foe
but now dark has the knowledge of your conspiring nature
it, now, sees light as the demon and it self a betrayed creature
as dark huddles in the shadows, everything is clear
no light to create shadows or to give birth to hopeless despair
so all i have learned is that even though human scorns the dark
it is the light you should fear, it is light that leaves a blistering mark
poem by Cassiel Kaini
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In the Spirit of Rumi-16
I said to My Beloved
How, my dearest one,
do you know those who truly love You?
My Beloved said
Not by their smiling face,
nor by their eagerness;
nor by the quickness of their response,
nor by the force and wealth of their response
pleasing though these are –
but by their stillness: as
a rose is still; or as a fine-proportioned vase is still;
or as a sunlit golden dome is still;
or as the bluest vault of heaven is still;
they have a stillness all about them; for
their hearts are ever at rest; there is no need
for their still heart to move; they are
always the same; they rest in love;
they meet you with all love,
they greet you with all love;
you cannot add to their true love,
you cannot take away from their true love;
and if you wish to test their love,
the test is constancy; there is no change in them;
they speak, they feel, they act, from constancy;
what is their substance? It is constancy;
I stand with them in constancy,
they stand with Me in constancy..
if that is not what you would ask of them in love,
then they are not for you; but they,
they are My true lovers, lovers of the truth in Me
-said My Beloved.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Forgetfulness
Forgetfulness is like a song
That, freed from beat and measure, wanders.
Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled,
Outspread and motionless, --
A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly.
Forgetfulness is rain at night,
Or an old house in a forest, -- or a child.
Forgetfulness is white, -- white as a blasted tree,
And it may stun the sybil into prophecy,
Or bury the Gods.
I can remember much forgetfulness.
poem by Hart Crane
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Gracious glance of innocence
Just snowed winter afternoon
Post-thanksgiving sales
Attractive less expensive shopping
My wife, our son and I
In one of the big retailers of US
Tired of this buying spree
I found a place to sit close to the entrance
And watched the people shopping
Entered a stroller
Holding an infant
Well protected
With a toy nipple in the mouth
I could make out
It was a baby girl
Very cute
Looking around with her
Inquisitive eyes
That had a grace
It occurred so
That I was in her focus
When her stroller passed beside me
Within a metre or so
Her mother was moving around
Things displayed in that side of the shop
And I was in the field her sight
During most of the time
Of her mother’s shopping
The first glance of the kid
Was telling me
“My glance by itself auspicious
Can make glanced at things
Auspicious too”
The second glance of hers
Which struck me
Beneath a displayed pink gown
Told me
“My glance, you know,
Can free you from all bonds,
If you are a person
Seeking that path.
My glance, at the same time,
Can grant worldly pleasures too,
If you are after them”
Her third glance
After a hide through a pillar
Revealed to me
“My glance has the power
To clear all your doubts
And to shatter
Your negative mind-set,
So that you ever remain confident”
As the infant was
Going out of shop
Her glance had a message
“My glance can purify you
And wash off all your sins
And dirt of your previous actions.
Do not you realise now
The power of
The gracious glance of innocence”
(A modified rewrite of Adi Sankara's meaning of one of the thousand names of Lord Vishnu)
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Forgetfulness
Forgetfulness is like a song
That, freed from beat and measure, wanders.
Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled,
Outspread and motionless, --
A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly.
Forgetfulness is rain at night,
Or an old house in a forest, -- or a child.
Forgetfulness is white, -- white as a blasted tree,
And it may stun the sybil into prophecy,
Or bury the Gods.
I can remember much forgetfulness.
poem by Harold Hart Crane
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Love Guerdons
DEAREST, if I almost cease to weep for you,
Do not doubt I love you just the same;
'Tis because my life has grown to keep for you
All the hours that sorrow does not claim.
All the hours when I may steal away to you,
Where you lie alone through the long day,
Lean my face against your turf and say to you
All that there is no one else to say.
Do they let you listen--do you lean to me?
Know now what in life you never knew,
When I whisper all that you have been to me,
All that I might never be to you?
Dear, lie still. No tears but mine are shed for you,
No one else leaves kisses day by day,
No one's heart but mine has beat and bled for you,
No one else's flowers push mine away.
No one else remembers--do not call to her,
Not alone she treads the churchyard grass;
You are nothing now who once were all to her,
Do not call her--let the strangers pass!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Mad Man's song
Like a lost letter she stood for a while
to go the other side of the road..
near me who was lying in a corner of this side….
For moments, it seemed she was the same soul in whose palms seeking fulfillment I search in mine…
Though in her eyes she was carrying a desperation unlike the one I had
to walk into an exile of refuge from reason….
Yet with her hallowed paleness she seemed very close…
And as I came back from my contrasts….
she was no longer there..
she was walking away on the other side,
as she had crossed the road.
She was then just one among many strangers…
Like an unaddressed letter
I sent my words into the air….
O..stranger! ! ! !
A lost letter seeks its home…
An unaddressed one remains lost, , ,
That day when you came with your child and asked me
if I would let him sit beside the window, where I was,
so that he can see the passage of sights…
Believe me, I would not have..
had I not known the joy of fulfilling the dreams of another's eye..
the wishes of another heart…
But once I had bought a bouquet of flowers for my mother
to give it to her God…
though I was an atheist then, , ,
But since then I am not…
You also came seeking your God…
so, I let your child and quietly wondered in the worship that your eyes offered to his...
as the sights passed by………….
You believed, I betrayed
Seeking faith in thy believe..
and the strength of its strings…
you believed yet…
So I returned….
finding the emptiness of betrayal, the meaning of its nothingness…
and the search of your belief.
When I returned,
you were like the joy of a sinking ship finding a sea within the sea…
and you beheld in me a lost soldier…
though I was within me but an unending war
Of belief and betrayal….
(with heartfelt courtesy to Shahzia Naqvi)
Strangers In The Night
Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wond'ring in the night
What were the chances we'd be sharing love
Before the night was through.
Something in your eyes was so inviting,
Something in you smile was so exciting,
Something in my heart,
Told me I must have you.
Strangers in the night, two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment
When we said our first hello.
Little did we know
Love was just a glance away,
A warm embracing dance away and
Ever since that night we've been together.
Lovers at first sight, in love forever.
It turned out so right,
For strangers in the night.
Love was just a glance away,
A warm embracing dance away and
Ever since that night we've been together.
Lovers at first sight, in love forever.
It turned out so right,
For strangers in the night.
For strangers in the night
For strangers in the night
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the spirit of Rumi - 7
‘My Beloved,
what can I give you of myself,
that I have not given? ’
My Beloved said
‘O my dearest one,
in all places, at all times,
remember Me.’
‘O My Beloved,
how can I not do that? ’
* * *
In tears, I returned to My Beloved
and said
‘O my dearest one,
a week has passed, and the world
pressed hard upon me…
‘The next day, I remembered You
three times each hour;
the second day, I remembered You
but once an hour;
on the third day, I remembered You
in some hours, once; some twice;
some not at all… and so it went…
But O My Beloved,
each morning as I woke
I remembered through my tears
how I had forgotten You…’
My Beloved said
‘In the remembering of the forgetting
there was a feast of sweetest honey for Me,
hiding like a new young bride
laughing with her bridegroom,
laughing with her eyes on Him,
in the silken tent of love.’
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Way!
He’s a man
Who
Remembers me
Every day.
Remembers
Every word
I say!
Yet
Whenever he
Speaks to me
He somehow
Forgets to
Tell me
That he
Loves me
In every way.
Dare I remind him?
No way!
I shall keep his
‘Forgetfulness’
At bay ;)
Or else
When we talk again
He’ll be in total
Disarray!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Love is difficult: Isaac of Nineveh
Love is difficult
until it’s easy..
How to write of this,
unless, until, we’re like him.. old and wise and
blind with reading and austerity,
speaking of what he’d become;
so that we, enfolded in his love,
become a little, that of which he writes?
On his painful, joyful, great adventure
to become the world,
seen as Creation sees it,
his heart so loved the mind,
his mind so loved the heart; that
these two walked together,
climbed hard mountains,
washed in cool, fresh streams;
were compassionate of each other’s failings;
rejoiced in each other’s purity.
Call this what you know of it.
First, he sought the body’s freedom
to be the tool of what was asked of it;
call this what you know of it.
Then, he sought what the unconscious mind
threw up from depths yet still not deep enough:
‘logismoi’ was the name some gave:
those seeds of action which he learned to listen to
to know whether they brought light,
or that darkness which is hard, agitated, cold,
these all at once..
call this what you know of it.
Then, love was easy: nothing was profane,
nothing sacred; he, sanctified,
sanctified the world around him;
his soul, when you were near him,
seemed to exhale a subtle, joyful fragrance
which changed the air around him;
embraced you in unspoken prayer
for all the world in mind: even devils,
serpents, sin, were thus embraced;
is this purity, compassion?
Call this, what you know of it.
All things then revealed to him
the secret of their being;
the visible, teaching the invisible;
the manifest teaching the unmanifest.
It’s said that Isaac was described
as ‘priest of all the world,
celebrating at the altar of his heart’;
call this, what you know of it.
For love is difficult
until it’s easy.
*
{Saint Isaac of Nineveh was born c.625 AD/CE
at what is now Qatar on the shores
of the Persian Gulf; especially beloved
in 19th century Russia.}
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Psycho Holiday
Empty and sweating
Head lying in your hands
Shaking in the corner
Done too much alcohol
Gotta get away from it all
'Cause it feels my blood is freezing
My self insanity has taken its toll
Frustration has taken its control
Now I'm far from home
Spending time alone
It's time to set my demons free
Been put to the test
My mind laid to rest
I'm on a psycho holiday
Shot down on sight
You are the target of attention
One woman here another there
You can't please all the people all the time
Can't tell the strangers
From the friends you know
Frustration has taken it's control
Now you're far from home
Spending time alone
It's time to set your demons free
Been put through the test
Your mind laid to rest
You're on a psycho holiday
I'm strapped in for life
Is this where I lived
Or where I died
You want my money
You take my space
My mind is telling me
To leave this place
My self insanity has taken its toll
Frustration has taken its control
Now you're far from home
Spending time alone
It's time to set your demons free
Been put through the test
Your mind laid to rest
You're on a psycho holiday
song performed by by Pantera from Reinventing The Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Obituary
A shaken world of helpless men, seeking answers yet creating questions.Seeking life when they are constantly the reason for death.
Worshiping gods who preach love, in exchange for jihad, gods who place a race of jews above gentiles.
Seeking to free ourselves from racism and yet we spit into different faces, with gods who demand that we take the very lives they say they gave.
poem by Cupid Missed
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It's Dark Out There
So what did you expect?
It's dark out there,
And cold.
Outer space is very, very cold.
Suns are good for light,
But they blow up,
Or implode.
It's dark out there,
So man worked with fire,
Then electricity,
But critics call their methods of creating light evil.
Folks don't like monopolies,
Even making light has dark tendencies
Moralistically,
But what are you going to do,
People are scared of the dark.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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