| om's palms
Posted: 6/8/2007 9:58:10 AM | Love it, Woob! captured beautifully!
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Those Few Words
My father often said
"put the bloody thing back!"
Clearly
I listened | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/8/2007 10:21:03 AM |
Ah, we were young then
smoking Balkan Sobranies
or black Egyptians
or Russian cloves
or pastel ovals
Me, it was Churchman’s # 1.
I’d sit there in the constituency office of the NDP
in a run-down working class district
during elections, with a round tin of them
on the battered table in front of me
and try to persuade visitors
that democratic socialism was best for them. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/8/2007 10:36:01 AM | Trading Places....
you lived in this town
long before I even knew it existed
it wasn’t a bedroom city then
family stores and businesses
welcomed you with open arms
just as their signs did
you were a real person
and not just a number
I have viewed pictures of city life back then
the streets were paved with black earth
houses had room to grow
children felt a sense of belonging
I lived in your neighboring town as a child
long before you felt the sting of snobbery
it wasn’t a bedroom city then
it was a place where you waved
at a familiar face
store owners would pinch my cheeks
when my mother stopped to chat
people made deliveries and house calls
not expecting anything in return
it was a child’s garden of verses
hidden dreams fed the village
with food for thought.
we have changed places
much as the world has
an impersonal world
without the black earth roads.
What a great thread you have going Om I love it. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/8/2007 8:35:56 PM | thanks af, and thanks for that Wonderful trip back to Burlington. Actually,
it was a closet city, except for the one french family..lol
Great reading, thanks!
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Dialogue Between Hips
Two theories on wet grass
Kiss the sky | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 12:10:12 AM | | Hi Om...It's great to see your poems...the Collected Works of Om....I've read almost all of them but now they can be studied at leisure...There's a lot of good stuff here my friend. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 7:14:58 AM | Me, it was Churchman’s # 1.
. . . . Ah, yes. We watched (covertly) you
earnest awkward boys, and dreamed. . . .
But you had worlds to save
We smarted in your disesteem
And wrote breathy poems of
you on your secret trusty steeds
published in interesting little magazines
 | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 7:34:57 AM | Sweet baby Jesus, Wooby, that (57) is good! It's like you sucked in 80 proof ozone & breathed out a freaking gem... Mies had it right, din' he?
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 8:17:10 AM | Smokey basements filled my youth
ernest discussions of socialism and truth
broken by the sounds of the singer/songwriter
du jour as he tuned his guitar
Gauloise untipped hung between his lips
even when he sang
voice gravelly with vin rouge or Pastis
or scalding dark Turkish coffee
would bring tears to my eyes
as he sang Piaf........ | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 8:45:38 AM | Communes like Dandelion, Arcosante and More
Places in which I was looking for
A way of living that suited my soul
But it was First Nations communities made me whole
Took a street kid and set her right straight
Placing me firmly on the path of my fate.
I still believe in what the prophets say
And my heart has led my path this way.
I haven’t changed much since in my youth
I think back then, we were closer to truth. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 8:57:35 AM |
I haven’t changed much since in my youth
I think back then, we were closer to truth.
Maybe so, or maybe it’s the same truth
but it looks different to you
each time you come back to it.
Maybe the path you’re on
is a circular path. Round
like the earth
or like the universe
in which every point in it
is the center. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 9:01:32 AM |
n which every point in it
is the center.
I soo enjoy you Jer. We have many conversations to have yet.
Wise man. Very wise man. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 4:05:56 PM | Om
your noble spirit
shines like the sun
beautiful one
creativity generates
to workman's hands
mind into matter
actions speak
sometimes in their lack
mellow chatter
the love you seek
unique
your desolation
scatter
LS | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 4:26:45 PM | Thanks for dropping by everyone.
Brizo, thank you so much. I feel moved by that. It actually arrives at a low moment for me, so thank you. And btw, your last poem in anything goes, I so agree with polly's remark, especially the last four lines. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 5:11:37 PM | om, I wrote it for you and felt it belonged in here. I noticed you had only top shelf stuff in here......and I remembered I was pretty happy with the way that one turned out.... | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/9/2007 8:42:50 PM | om
I’m reading your work for the third time through
savouring every word and verse slowly
like it were a Werther’s Original
saved ‘til day five of a backcountry trek. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/10/2007 3:44:58 PM | thankyou kindly, greengrassofhome
and brizo, I read 'The Prophet' again, thanks for that!
````
I dunno..:/
Sometimes
The words don’t come
They’d rather lie under the covers
Caress the moment
Or stand behind bars
And pay tribute to
The un-words
I dunno
My guess is
Every cell
Needs a death
Now and then. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 12:44:46 PM | Reassured
I watch Time bend
Observing it's properties
I tethered a note
To the edge of air
And watched it curve
Around a heart
It dashed back
Through the mouth
Of a warm friendly smile
Sometimes I look up
And see them
Winging across landscapes
Like tiny gold-glowing post-its
Searching for places
To dive into red
I smile
Reassured
Time
Knows how to bend
````````````````````
ok, guilty of liking the image of the post-its..:/ | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 2:10:11 PM | | And a lovely little image it is, my friend, lol! ♥ | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 2:42:12 PM | | OM! I truly love what you have done here. The frequencies are enormous. The energy is moving. Everyone in here has complimented the new haven of aesthetic bliss. Truly inspiring! | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 5:59:49 PM |  hey these are such amazing words Om
i would love to pick out one line
no one verse
no no one poem
but hey they're all amazin
it just cant be done
actually i love the simplicity
of feel good
thats it you just make us all feel good
 | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 11:10:56 PM | thanks, woob, n&w, mk-I think I dropped a word from that poem (hurl)..darn it, oh well..:/
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Bluer
I was thinking of making it bluer
Like the time mister natural turned the leaves into faces
Or the time I became angel dust and was blown into a supernatural being
Or the time I was on the tip of speed and flew through school like a superhero
There’s something blue about blue that makes me native
An all natural light that sucks me in as far back as Woodstock (the movie)
Below me, an ocean of myth, above me, myth again
It’s the blood of promise that seems horizon
And I the vessel deep in blue | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/11/2007 11:21:26 PM | Your stuff's amazing lately. I mean, it was amazing before too, but it's...shifting, into more amazing.
Keeping busy's good for your mind. | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/13/2007 10:29:53 AM | thanks rc
I wasn't happy with the last line..it didn't relate to anything...just a wee repost...
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Poetry Night
It was poetry night
In the classical section
I saw you sitting there
Like Liona Boyd sits
You were teasing the tiny winged post-its
Flying around you, giggling,
Glowing, in the warmth
Of your up-draft
It was your turn to read
It was poetry night
And you didn't know
Where they came from | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/13/2007 12:06:39 PM | Ill Remembered..(reworked)
I want to tell you
About the death of my father
When in his last days
I asked him
To squeeze my hand
I think he did?
Much is forgotten
Inside
Questions sleep
Tonight
Length has no meaning
No language
But home
In a world
For closure
For he dies
Inside me
A poised
Intension
``````````````
man, poetry eh, how do you say it, and not say too much?
the ol pig skin was tough to get through to...:/
and it's sad many men can't go there... | |
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| om's palms
Posted: 6/13/2007 12:37:46 PM |  Om feel ya on that one! Today is my fathers birthday.....and many memories come to view! I will say....I am at a loss for words...but they are flowing in me, so please forgive......if they are not exactly right!
Poisonous years........we lived with you
I always knew you felt , something else
Never there for the ones whom loved you
Always in search of something else
I hated you for that , at times.........
I wanted you there......for us....your life
Always searching for something else!
You never were happy with what you had
I have been told I am my fathers daughter.....
for years I was the same........and we fought!
I fought for my right to be......the same as you....
though you didnt see........
why I was this way........is true..........
simply,,,,,it was because of you!
Finally we met at the crossroads......
you found out.....I was just as stubborn as you
But time ran out.....you left me there........
Hope you knew I really cared!
I also asked you to squeeze my hand..........
those last moments were hell, but grand........
You squeezed my hand and called my name
one last time.......I felt your love...
again! | |
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