Atlas
You rip through the trees,
A black blur stronger then
Anything
The world's ever witnessed,
Thick paws heavy with dread
And with knowledge
And with things kept from
You.
You howl,
Again, the birch's
Nothing more then
A snow striped blurr,
Nothing more then
Eternity...
A pointless thing,
You howl with dread
Blankness. Death.
But you are stronger then
That.
You press on,
Heedless of the blood-stained
Cantelope sky,
Heedless of the ropy red clouds,
Heedless of the lake,
A reflective of sky.
You tramp in, your intentions clear,
The sky thrust on your paws
And the summer birch's spin
As do the clouds,
And the air
And shadows
Of the wind.
But you are heedless of
Eternity
poem by Alice Miller
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The Tree
Oh to be free of myself,
With nothing left to remember,
To have my heart as bare
As a tree in December;
Resting, as a tree rests
After its leaves are gone,
Waiting no more for a rain at night
Nor for the red at dawn;
But still, oh so still
While the winds come and go,
With no more fear of the hard frost
Or the bright burden of snow;
And heedless, heedless
If anyone pass and see
On the white page of the sky
Its thin black tracery.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Howler
There is blood
dripping, dripping
off snow white paws,
ice perfection,
caeser beauty.
You howl, dark, blood stained muzzle
piercing the air
the cold, cold broken air
that shatters soul and
thought and prose.
Your hackles raised your amber sockets
your fire-light eyes
dancing, grinning, lolling jaws
gasping
Lungs shattering-frozen glass.
You are a blizzard,
tearing across the
frozen tundra
confidence in essence,
you alone- the world your
enemy, your
arena, your solace.
You are cold, an ice sculpture-
somehow melting, but ever slow
you howl again,
for luck.
poem by Alice Miller
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Seclusion!
I tried to hide
from everything
and peep into a snail's
empty shell?
But not enough room there
for this pointless huge body.
Probably the soul could enter?
[The Buddha once described; 'Whoever was heedless before but later changed his ways and become heedful; Such a person illumines this World like the Moon freed from the clouds.He indeed a great conqueror, he who has conquered himself.]-'One Night's Shelter/From home to homelessness', The American Buddhist monk
Bikkhu Yogavacara Rahula
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Chill Warning
Wolves howl, chill warning,
Song of blood.
Hunters smile, men reach for spears,
Stone, one with wood.
Our Lady of wolves, with fangs,
In dark shadows is seen.
Howl, children of darkness, follow,
Run with your white queen.
Circles of shadows, cover the prey,
Red stains the snow.
Blood, on white snow, ice and fire,
Stars spin, and glow.
poem by Jerome Brooke
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Warning and Promise
Wolves howl, chill warning,
Songs of red blood.
Hunters smile, men reach for spears,
Stone, one with wood.
Our Lady of wolves, with fangs,
In dark shadows is seen.
Howl, children of darkness, follow,
Run with your white queen.
Circles of shadows, cover the prey,
Red stains the snow.
Blood on white snow, ice and fire,
Stars spin, and glow.
poem by Jerome Brooke
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Snow wolves
I can hear the wolves
Howl in the distance
The howl is suddenly
Dampened by the falling snow
In a clearing
I see the wolves howl
Perched on the slanted rock
They cry to the moon
The moon cries back
It cries with agony
It cries because of death
Death witnessed beneath it's glow
The wolves turn and howl
The snow doesn't let up
But blows harder
Through blind panic
i run
I hear the wolves howl
Only it isn't in the distance
poem by Eric Ripley
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A Howl of the Night
A howl can be herd in the night as the snow falls
A howl can run through and enter the soul of
The wolf who's heart is as pure as the grain
A howl shall show no mercy and shall either hunt you
Or guide you, It will be strong and hard -the howl of the night.
The howl shall come from the spirit of the strongest,
The bravest and the boldest.
It will not be weak, as the wind carries the howl farther
To the Pack, all will awaken and cry with
The howl of the night.
poem by Rebecca Seetahal
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Beauty of The Moon
Running along the mountains
Feeling the air rush through me
Feel the earth under my paws
Running through the forest at night
My pack on my heels
Run faster and faster
My beta on my left
My she Alpha on my right
Running through the mountains
The moon shining above us
Our anchor
Curling up together under the full moon
Feel the pull to the moon
Feel its strength
Get up and start to run
Run up to the hill
I stare up at the moon
I put my head back and howl
Howl for my love
Howl for my life
Howl for the beauty of the moon
My anchor
The full moon
My she alpha
She howls alongside me
Feel the earth under my paws
I start to run
Run alongside the mountains
Breathing in the air around me
My pack at my heels
My beta on my left
My she alpha on my right
We run
We run with the moon as our anchor
We throw back our heads
We howl
We howl for our loves
We howl for our lives
We howl
For the beauty of the moon
poem by Vianca Borrero
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My worst nightmare
My worst nightmare I dread and fear
To be buried beneath a street far from my dears
I will be long dead and my heart full of dust
The place, the dwell of my wherever lost lust
The wheels and hooves of machines and beasts rolling over my head
My bones will be shaken with pain and dread
This is how it will be
If no one is going to take a heed of me
If into a shallow grave my tattered skeleton is thrust
Imagine only inches beneath a heavy traffic street bust
The gallop of horses and the trot of goats and cows
Will keep their relentless beat with a chorus of crows
Beat into my scalp and my brain
Like never an end to the stream of rushing ants under rain
Heedless of poor me carrying, traveling, hurrying, leaving
In my life I shun away from front busy street living
When the wretched age catch up with my bones
Not a bell will be rang, not a pray or eulogy will be read
It is that which makes us noble in the world of the dead
Just like this lowering me down to my eternal tomb bed?
Ah, my spirit where does it wander where does it pass
My soul where does it dwell in heaven or in hell
In the face of immortality and ancient laws unveil
Deep sleep, eternal doom comes to every sinew and lust
No more pleasant summer night dreams, no more morning first shine
But this eternal entity; all formless kingdom divine
Along my bones the creeping tattered flesh will quake
And my all damped besmeared hair stiffened with dust and thus it spake
Do you find God there in this colossus universe of ultimate justice pure
Or you be-left to deem and contemplate in land of spiritual desolation insecure
Among creatures of grave clay; the vain dwellers of tomb dust
A moth out survive you; a mold digs and borrows under your gravel rust
Things of normal routine day you never see nor attend the dusk of night
Heedless, stale and blind to wisdom and light
Copy rights 2010
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Just Grass
THE ROOTLESS GRASS
There’s no soil to settle
nor the water to drink
nor the air to breath
for the times you roam
in the continent of passion and despair
You are the dust of the road
a sigh of the passage
being blown up by the soundless wind
of indifference
You fall down to a shore
where the unknown gathers and departs
towards the horizon
of sinful hope
(Tadanori Tanigawa)
O outward stranger, you are part of all
Why are you heedless of all?
o part come!
do not be heedless of the whole
become aware and come to know all
(Shams al-Din Tabrizi)
In the continent of passion and despair
being blown up by the soundless wind
where the unknown gathers and departs
O outward stranger, you are part of all
(Yahya)
*
And the light shineth in darkness;
and the darkness comprehended it not
poem by Howlin' Dervish
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Tomb or Treasure - Acrostic Sonnet
Il dépend de celui qui passe
que je sois tombe ou trésor,
que je parle ou me taise,
ceci ne tient qu’à toi –
Ami, n’entre pas sans désir... Paul Valéry
Tomb or treasure? Both hint musty hold
Of dust which when against a feather weighed
Must be found wanting - uprightness unpaid.
Beauty: barter bait, ghost lure lost gold.
Oh, no allure escapes Time’s stranglehold.
Regrets are rife. All qualities displayed
Time, heedless, turns to ashes which degrade
Reason as its season can’t enfold
Eternity, both sot and sage had sold
All precious for an extra life-line frayed,
Sold soul for sole extension core betrayed.
Unprincipled, most sleep through life's poor scold,
Regret chance dance, askance refuse, lose way -
Expect advancement, heedless, seedless st[r]ay...
17 December 1991 revised 15 October 2008
poem by Jonathan Robin
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On this long storm the Rainbow rose
194
On this long storm the Rainbow rose—
On this late Morn—the Sun—
The clouds—like listless Elephants—
Horizons—straggled down—
The Birds rose smiling, in their nests—
The gales—indeed—were done—
Alas, how heedless were the eyes—
On whom the summer shone!
The quiet nonchalance of death—
No Daybreak—can bestir—
The slow—Archangel's syllables
Must awaken her!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Birch-Tree at Loschwitz
At Loschwitz above the city
The air is sunny and chill;
The birch-trees and the pine-trees
Grow thick upon the hill.
Lone and tall, with silver stem,
A birch-tree stands apart;
The passionate wind of spring-time
Stirs in its leafy heart.
I lean against the birch-tree,
My arms around it twine;
It pulses, and leaps, and quivers,
Like a human heart to mine.
One moment I stand, then sudden
Let loose mine arms that cling:
O God! the lonely hillside,
The passionate wind of spring!
Crying Wolf Inside
With a cry, with a whimper, she lets out a sigh.
Her spirit, her joy, her love gone dry.
An elevated head held high,
Drop goes a tear, she insists she’s fine, but it’s only a lie.
A step toward the moon,
A woeful howl coming soon.
Whoosh, a breeze her long beautiful white fur,
Her memories of happiness, it’s all a blur.
Spreading her paws, they go out wide.
Her eyes sparkle in sorrow, but also with great pride.
With the dip of her head, arise once again.
She let out a howl, her pain was slain.
poem by ayam Rose Estelle
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Howl
There is a hatred that's in my soul
I feel it strong in this world that I prowl
This anger and terror I must let go
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
I will grit my teeth and shout in anger
When anyone tries to hurt or offend me
That is who I am and it makes me stronger
There is an animal that wants to be free.
Perspiration comes quickly to my head and face
So that hostility I remove it with soap and a towel
But that coming of anger I cannot erase
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
I cannot control my ideals or a bad thought
The loathing of others I wish never was born
But being used and hurt I never had sought
As in my mind and soul that is a prickly thorn.
In disgust I walk with my two fists clinched
And when I speak it comes out in a growl
From my temper I run as though being pinched
So at the moon; I will howl, I will howl.
poem by Randy McClave
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Epiphany
Outside the surge of the wind, the wind in the trees,
The rush of leaves, and the sighing in the pine-needles,
Outside the sound of the sea-shore, distant, remembered,
The waves breaking on the gray rocks, and the evening approaching,
The restlessness, and the interminable noise.
Silence in the room, and solitude,
A sense of spaces, remoteness and nearness, and the soul's awareness,
Desolate is the hearts desire
And the loving knows no end,
When the morning in the clouds breaks across the sky,
And the forests sway and bend.
Outside the wind, the wind in the trees,
And the sighing in the tree-tops.
Noises from the town, heedless, unthinking, indistinct,
Recurring, fading,
And silence in the room, and solitude,
The shadowy dimness, the darkness of evening,
A pause in time, and the soul's awareness.
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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My heart is slave of morning scene
serene is the dawn and calm mind...
soft is the grass with drops of dew
clouds are grey on the sky blue
flowers fresh and trees look kind
breeze is never so soft as now
unmindful of all it's jollity and fun
heedless of all, it constantly runs
innocent buds will face it-but how?
birds are singing without any fear
using jargon take God's name
the sun is peeping through its frame
in such moments HE looks near
my heart is slave of morning scene
finer, fragrant, cool and clean...
poem by Shahzia Batool
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To the People Of the Future
This single link was else respected
By people of the days that gone –
There’s written on its tablet sacred
That Love and Life is one.
But you’re not they, you live like arrows
Of dreams that fly through skies and earth,
And in your flight, unite, my fellows,
The Love and Death.
They said in their pledge eternal
That they are slaves of the bad past,
That they were born in dust infernal,
And will return again to dust.
Your heedless brightness was aroused
By songs of lyre, mad and fine,
Eternity will be your spouse,
The world – a shrine.
All folk were utterly believing
That they must live and love with smiles,
That woman is a child of sinning,
Who’s marked by sins a hundred times.
But different, unearthly sounds
Were brought to you by running years,
And you will take to Snow Crowns
Your gentle friends.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
The heaven we chase
Like the June bee
Before the school-boy
Invites the race;
Stoops to an easy clover
Dips--evades--teases--deploys;
Then to the royal clouds
Lifts his light pinnace
Heedless of the boy
Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.
Homesick for steadfast honey,
Ah! the bee flies not
That brews that rare variety.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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His eyes so dim, so wasted each limb, that, heedless of grammar, they all cried, that's him!
quote by Richard Harris Barham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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