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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/9/2009 7:45:55 AM | It's been an incredible week
life slowly walking by
never thought this pace would suit me
I have to admit, I'm pleasantly surprised
((Morning all   )) | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/13/2009 5:36:12 PM | Hiya all! Just back for a quick bit of jargon, working out of town for a while. Thanks to everyone for keeping the fireside toasty!
Drink from the well slowly,
savour the thirst,
and remember
each sip,
pass the Queens lace,
but gaze not longingly
with desire,
dreams cannot quench
this thirst,
savour the vision,
and remember! | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/14/2009 4:28:53 AM | awww...so good to see you manny!!
thought to leave this here, just written on a new thread
called Poems of light and mind....have a wonderful Wednesday
and a belated happy Thanksgiving to you and your loved ones!!
we are
the mirror
the observer
and the reflection
all pondering creation
and in the pondering
we are creating
for who's to say
anything exists
before we ponder it?
perhaps imagination
and our fascination
brings realisation
in a world
where illusion often
causes confusion
yet a spinning crystal
catching the light
will delight
as the dancing
rainbow prism
brings elation
and if an autumn leaf
appears in your path
painted strokes of fire
stops you in your tracks
such exquisite beauty
contained in the tiny leaf
seems beyond belief
as the energy of our imagination
released in all creation
returns to the reflection
for we are the mirror
the observer
and the observation
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/19/2009 10:21:08 PM | With orange, yellow, red and green falling
I climb every rocky step with care
There was a time I wanted a maiden crawling
Yet now I see her face, her skin, heart as so fair
I put my younger days of wanting just mere flesh
to tie Mad Dogs and Englishman with rope
Her opaque silhouette shimmers in see-through mesh
No longer do my fingers try to grab or grope
The lining of any eclectic dancer is free
to behold along an ole barren stage
For she's one who becomes one with me
in my sights as I feel the drains of tidal rage | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/23/2009 12:27:14 PM | I am falsely addicted to a fantasy
every day a feeling comes over me
and I must see my needs, as they are
I must feel the submission, experience the power
I've no control of my wants
they are something I was born with I suppose
and it bothers me
I fail to see
that what I want
is stripped of clothes
that cover this icicle fantasy
this cold, lifeless being
that parades through her days
as if she needs one more moment
of Amazing Grace
to enter this throne...
God made us to love
maybe without love, it is a sin
but I can't help myself
from watching again
the chains and leather
the sickness of it all
the amazing rush that comes
from feeling so small
and it's not right, I suppose
but then again, who really knows
That one way is better
indeed I've tried a many
but the one I love to watch
is the one no one will give me
but him
as of now
I'm sure there's
more of them around
watching, waiting,
tired of all the gaming
we must play
to get our way
as if I know what's good for me
in the first place...
but this is not a good thing
simply wet
this is not the way I'm gonna be
this is just that
spine tingling moment
when I'm enslaved to the desire
of a man with a timid nature
but uncontrollable fire
under
the
sheets | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/23/2009 8:02:57 PM | Awesome writes WeareI, Jamesless, and Sarah!
She burned the flags of caution,
following the illusion, the dream,
reveries, omens,
the torture chambers
of her mind,
caustic bites of reality
intertwined with fantasy,
twisting with metal edges,
cutting the lines of sanity,
and she followed blindly,
unaware the shadows of
fate....that wait! | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/23/2009 11:08:29 PM | we will wait
those of us who believe in fate
the rest will run head first
into the blinding rage and thirst
that accompanies rushed indiscretions
finding simplified elation...
if we are honest in the matter
who really has time
to feel the pitter patter
of a heart lusting after
an unseen death
cascading down the rippling waters
I put my hands
into my own fate | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/25/2009 8:38:56 AM | Hey Sarah, nice writing...thanks for sharing a piece of you.
Tracing lines
in steel ice,
dripping
sculptures
on glass collectors,
frozen etchings
shaping
forms of
imagination,
all on a winters morn. | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/25/2009 8:55:31 AM | bringing this one home.
Peeling thoughts from a naked mind,
tempered like glass in a liquid pool,
shimmering shapes undistinguishable,
yet, somehow exhilarating,
stimulating the senses
of danger,
trapped in the looking glass
of yesterday,
dreaming past the exit. | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/25/2009 9:16:41 AM | yesterday was tomorrow's mistake
for you can never tell
just exactly
which move
you'll regret,
dreaming of a face... | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/25/2009 12:21:10 PM | I often fantasise
holidaying amid soft skin
then I realise
New flesh is easier than kin
if I could make my family tree
of my choise to a tee
ornaments of love
would hang freely | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/30/2009 5:01:58 PM | mindless wonderings
names I can't recall
events blur into nothing
memories of the fall
as the leaves swirl around me
I wonder if my garden will bear for thee
or if I will be forced to wait
slumber idly at your gate
waiting on the kingdom to fall...
damning myself for wanting it at all
seeking to hold and comfort a soul
who obviously somehow lost control
needing me more
than I'd ever need him
unable to see it
driven to win | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 10/31/2009 9:31:33 AM | Remember One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest?
Nurse Ratchet always knew what was best
She smiled and helped the patients galore
Take not one pill but a bottle or more
When one voice stood who made her insecure
She killed quickly while acting demure
She saved you by pulling your head out of the loo
Never admitting she put it there while appearing true
When one takes away the merriment of others as a job
It's worse than telling a kid there is no Santa Claus
Santa is fat and jolly as can be
He is loved universally
So be nice and never be naughty
St. Nick will be there even if you potty
It's a parental thing that makes people cry
They lost their childhood and don't know why
Does it give one or two in tandem
The right to destroy at random?
Narcissistic graveyard of whoa is me
No wonder the Indian left to create his own tee-pee | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/3/2009 4:21:43 PM | Consumed in gentle thought,
touched by the warmth of internal heartwinds,
visual caleidoscope of feelings,
emotions like a waterwheel,
the endless cycle
lifting,
drifting,
in and out of consciousness,
devoured in the rhythm,
transcending
in uncontrollable urges
to finally touch the void,
reaching the most delicate
illusion.....................
YOU! | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/3/2009 6:16:27 PM | Kindly show me
where I shall stand
before the guns are loaded
as I stand
hands tied behind my back
what will fill my head
in those last moments
Will it be love?
Will it be loss?
Will it be wonder
of where I shall awake
next time?
As I pray for rest
will my prayer be answered?
Will I never return?
((a little off beat tonight Manny ... hope you don't mind me dropping this here)) | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/14/2009 9:10:14 AM | Hey sunshine....write anything you like here, it's still you, after all!
The apostles of truth,
slumlords and peddlers
of seduction,
mocking all...who question....
He shall inherit
the truth for a fee,
and yet shall his basket
be empty...
save for the
deception! | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/14/2009 6:17:08 PM | them there humans
are purty smart
who would've thunk
to take a picture
of the cycle of life
for bored people
to fill their lonely nights... | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/14/2009 7:32:37 PM | A soft solitary eve,
draped in vulnerability,
drenched in a touchless
medium, spirits of souls
from long years longing,
and yet, the feelings fail,
fumbling in the dark
for a spark,
reaching, grasping in gentle
gesture, touching past,
touching memory,
touching what was,
almost touching, what
could have been. | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/14/2009 8:17:44 PM | bringing this one home.....
There is a garden
in never, never land,
so far away, yet
so near at hand,
where flesh burns into flesh,
where passions dreams
are ever fresh,
where fever pitch
and ecstasy play,
quenching lusts fire
both night and day,
hands create shivers,
sweat runs like rivers,
when you close your eyes
the sun rises in the garden,
of never never land. | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/15/2009 7:42:43 PM | It's a good night to sit by the fire
blazing flames hypnotise
apparitions dance within the flames
they call to me ... wanting me to feel free
come, dance with them upon the tips of the flames
holding your weight ... and now they don't
Better than a roller coaster ride
or riding the waves at high tide
although both are fun ....
there's something about the flames that don't burn .... | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/16/2009 12:59:12 AM | Do They Know It's Thanksgiving or Christmas Time At All?
"The British colonial rulers introduced a system of Pass Laws in the Cape Colony and Colony of Natal during the 19th century.This stemmed from the regulation of blacks' movement from the tribal regions to those occupied by whites and coloureds, ruled by the British. Laws were passed not only to restrict the movement of blacks into these areas, but also to prohibit their movement from one district to another without a signed pass. Blacks were not allowed onto the streets of towns in the Cape Colony and Natal after dark and had to carry their passes at all times"
"During the British Raj, India experienced some of the worst famines ever recorded, including the Great Famine of 1876–78, in which 6.1 million to 10.3 million people died[27] and the Indian famine of 1899–1900, in which 1.25 to 10 million people died.[27] Recent research, including work by Mike Davis and Amartya Sen,[28] attribute these famines directly to British policy in India."
Copy and pasted from Wikipedia. Just saying... when you live in a glass house...
It's Christmastime
There's no need to be afraid
At Christmastime, we let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime
But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones
At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging
chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you
And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
(Oooh) Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?
(Here's to you) raise a glass for everyone
(Here's to them) underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?
Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmastime again
Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmastime again
repeat then fade
(Bob Geldof & Midge Ure) | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/16/2009 2:21:06 AM | four fourty four
the time shines in red
on the clock by my bed
but i'm computer led
to this poetry thread
where my soul is fed...
sitting here fire roasting
almost like a lovely toasting
as the flames burn orange and crimson
seem to release me from my sleepless prison
as the muse helps my words infuse with passion
while feeling a connection of deep compassion....
so why do i see some animosity...apparently?
i escaped from the threads where many were angry
finding here among the writers of poetry
a warmth and openness of heart quite extraordinary
offering a deeply rooted place of sanctuary...
but then....occasionally....and quite sadly
i witness a break in the friendliness
where one or two foresake their kindness
leaving me baffled with curiousity
when normally they seem to write quite lovingly....
guess i'll never know what touched their soul
and let their hearts and minds feel cold
perhaps if they sit here by this fire
the heat will warm their feet and release their ire
setting them free to once again write compassionately
letting the poetry and creativity hopefully
dissolve all animosity and return us to unity....
then just maybe
the beauty found here in rich supply
might fill the air and touch the sky
connecting earth with heaven high
offering an awakening
in each and every living being....
sigh....
back to reality....
seems we're all just passing by
stopping briefly on our journey
to read and write quite freely
wherever the muse might take me
on this incredible odyssey of poetry
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/16/2009 5:43:42 AM | | Thank you all, Sunshine, Jamesless, and welcome Sophia. Thanks for sharing that piece by Geldoff. WeareI...always special to see you here by the fire. | |
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| The Fireside
Posted: 11/16/2009 6:08:37 AM | Multi Chambered prism,
light.............................
dark............................
color bursts of human
emotions, releasing a
rainbow beyond storms,
savage, gentle,
cleansed by rainwaters,
emitting from it's nucleus
............................pure
............................LOVE! | |
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| MANDRAKES house by the fire...for all to share
Posted: 11/16/2009 10:14:49 AM | Like a blade
who thrust deep,
you took me
Mo gradh.
The steel is sharp
the light blinding.
It has become quiet;
Mo gradh.
Two hearts
entwined
together lie;
Mo gradh.
In your arms,
I lived,
and died
Mo gradh.
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