| Pete Seeger: II
Posted: 3/4/2009 12:13:51 AM | (thought I would just copy your last poem from the other page because when I went to comment on it; it was one page away.....)
Jer's poem from the previous page:
Pete Seeger II
Watch the faces
of the kids in classrooms
as Pete encourages them to sing
This land is your land..
Their eyes afire with joy
This land is my land
Watch their faces
and I defy you
not to hope
From California to the New York Islands
and I defy you
to be cynical
I defy you
not to do what we all must do
to keep the children
and hope alive
^^^^^^^ I got chills with this bro
thankyou for that one | |
|
| Pete Seeger: II
Posted: 3/4/2009 10:20:23 AM | | Thanks, bro. Was thinking of writing another one about where would all the love in him go when he dies... | |
|
| The marriage of Shadow and Substance
Posted: 3/5/2009 9:30:52 AM | The marriage of Shadow and Substance
did not actually take place
because, while Substance was waiting in church,
posture rigid as the Bank of England,
Shadow was off in some forest glade
somewhere, cavorting
with all the most ephemeral spirits.
_______________________
from Brizo's Poems | |
|
| Black & White Photo, NY Times, Mar 8/09
Posted: 3/8/2009 10:50:55 AM | Here are the murderers
seated at dinner
all but one in their high-peaked
officer’s caps. Hitler alone
looks abstracted,
not altogether there,
anybody’s somewhat absent-minded
grandfather, a bit of a dodo... | |
|
| Sol
Posted: 3/13/2009 4:49:15 AM | Sol was one of those
who knew the length and breadth
of Jesus, who had felt
the warmth of his footprints
on the Via Dolorosa,
deeper, sadder, after he assumed the weight of the cross,
the mortal heart pumping,
the God-given minutes of his earthly journey
ticking away...
Sol (no relation to that other Saul)
understood that history
had been broken into,
that the vaults would no longer
hold love, death, empire
as they once had done,
that all men and women,
from now on,
would be held to account. | |
|
| Sol
Posted: 3/13/2009 1:36:08 PM | I wonder what Jesus wrote
Hand poised in the sand
Perhaps disrupting the fate of man
How many times, not mentioned, was such an act done
Singularily, completely, defining us as one?
From one person did the human race begin
As one shall we be allowed entrance once again? | |
|
| Sol
Posted: 3/13/2009 2:29:54 PM |
I wonder what Jesus wrote
Hand poised in the sand
Perhaps disrupting the fate of man
How many times, not mentioned, was such an act done
Singularily, completely, defining us as one?
From one person did the human race begin
As one shall we be allowed entrance once again?
Thank you, Domut. Good questions! | |
|
| There was a woman...
Posted: 3/19/2009 12:23:39 PM | ...and then there wasn’t.
What? You’ve heard that story before?
Wait, there’s more...
ii
There’s always more.
In love
the rule of entropy
is sometimes overturned
and in the transformation
of matter to energy,
sometimes,
something is gained!
a small gain, to be sure,
so small you might mistake it for loss:
a certain degree
of loss of independence,
an unfixing of one’s self
from one’s place.
iii
And then - poof!
- one or the other is gone.
You can spend the rest of your life,
if you choose,
trying to figure out who
left whom. | |
|
| There was a woman...
Posted: 3/19/2009 3:10:15 PM | My shadow has left me
I was walking to the subway
when I felt a tug
and poof
it was gone!
I carried on
not wanting to miss my train
thought I would reconnect
later
I really don't know when
it will return or
whether I will see it again
but I feel ten pounds lighter! | |
|
| There was a woman...
Posted: 3/19/2009 3:42:13 PM |
My shadow has left me
I was walking to the subway
when I felt a tug
and poof
it was gone!
I carried on
not wanting to miss my train
thought I would reconnect
later
I really don't know when
it will return or
whether I will see it again
but I feel ten pounds lighter!
Shouldn't you have creditted me with that "poof"? There was a bit of a scandal recently about plagiarism, wasn't there?
I love the ease with which you employ the conversational voice! | |
|
| There was a woman...
Posted: 3/19/2009 5:36:26 PM | It is so entertaining and also heartfelt to arrive upon this page...
Pickle, love your lighthearted ways and succinctly stunning portrayals...
Alyosha, you stick so much depth in such few words it is scary! Honestly how you contrive the English language to have so much beautiful content so economically leaves me in wonder of your obvious brilliance, often moving me very deeply (you have no idea, but probably do :) ...
Domut, I always love to read you to because you have so much thought behind your poetry and often a diffferent, completely new angle highly analytical and enduring in the concepts put forward, challenging usual perceptions perhaps...
Tz. I read you and learn from you too...
 just me Angel (lol) | |
|
| There was a woman...
Posted: 3/19/2009 6:08:33 PM |
Alyosha, you stick so much depth in such few words it is scary! Honestly how you contrive the English language to have so much beautiful content so economically leaves me in wonder of your obvious brilliance, often moving me very deeply (you have no idea, but probably do :) ...
Actually, woman (which I assume you are from your comments. I haven't looked at your profile... yet), I DON'T have any idea how deeply I move anybody, which is why a comment such as yours is so precious to me, as it very likely is to any of the others to whom you're so generous with your praise.
 | |
|
| Ah, dear soul,
Posted: 3/21/2009 6:34:37 AM | your indifference to me
clamours against my needy heart.
I imagine you pitting
the whole of your ingenuity,
your formidable will,
to devise new stratagems
for ignoring me.
I create myself
in the face of your neglect of me.
It empowers me, the less
I have of you, the more
I expand to fill the space between us.
What is more alluring
than the merest flash
of a creamy, cold shoulder? | |
|
| When fairylands
Posted: 3/25/2009 11:04:08 AM | When fairylands
and visions grand
have passed at last
beyond that inner glass
on which we play
our dreams, the day
of being ourselves
will come. No elves
will come to help
us then, no yelp
of Mother! Father!
Rescue me! The bother
we have caused will flood
over us, our blood,
the spring
of our belief,
will sing
in raucous, unrelenting grief. | |
|
| When fairylands
Posted: 3/25/2009 7:39:30 PM | Exquisite the certainty
the conviction of actions
that will profoundly
change lives
snuffed out and yet
the majesty of death
and the grace
and the humility
are so admired. | |
|
| When fairylands
Posted: 3/28/2009 1:06:22 PM |
Exquisite the certainty
the conviction of actions
that will profoundly
change lives
snuffed out and yet
the majesty of death
and the grace
and the humility
are so admired.
Thanks, luv, but isn't it about time we had one of our woman-to-woman chats? | |
|
| The baby slept...
Posted: 4/5/2009 11:41:16 AM | “The baby slept like he knew just what he was doing.”
Anne Enright, “Yesterday’s Weather”
....which is how we want to,
ought to, love: as if the knowledge of it
was bred in our bones, instinct
in our fingertips, gave breath
to our breathing | |
|
| The baby slept...
Posted: 4/5/2009 7:25:24 PM | Jer...
Just re reading and yes this w/e.....
Frissons of fear
dread coming near
breath held although
it is not possible to do so
for much longer than
the CT scan requires.
I never met
a cigarette
I didn't like
but I turned my back
way back
on the habit
evil mistress
surfaced
to wreak havoc | |
|
| The baby slept...
Posted: 4/6/2009 4:24:47 AM |
I never met
a cigarette
I didn't like
Love how you can be so off-handedly funny and candid in the midst of an otherwise serious poem. | |
|
| There is always reason to despair
Posted: 4/8/2009 1:00:55 PM | for A.E.
You will find a writer one day,
and you will think
that she has saved your life
or given it back to you
as meaningful as it ever was,
like more money than you could ever spend,
the interest compounding all the time
or more women than you could ever love,
and each one has a sister
or a maiden aunt,
but then,
oh, then
you will notice that she,
this writer, has only written
so many books
and she’s already old,
and there is always reason to despair. | |
|
| Language is a narrative
Posted: 4/16/2009 6:21:48 AM | “Neither” is forever fixed to “nor.”
“Then” implies “before.”
Language is a narrative
we can bend but never give
a wholly new direction.
We are but language’s reflection. | |
|
| Tumult was my table
Posted: 4/20/2009 12:56:51 PM | Tumult was my table,
tohu-vavohu my daily bread.
Half my passion
was another man’s fatigue
and I was wandering,
wandering, down a road without a sign
where all the other travellers
were blessed or blind.
The din of life
was loud and overwhelming.
I heard it as if every orchestral player
was playing from a different score.
And I was losing half my mind
along with all the other travellers,
some of whom were blessed,
and some were merely blind. | |
|
| In the News Today
Posted: 5/5/2009 3:57:07 PM | On the telly there’s an interview
with a beautiful young woman in Goa
who was seized by six men
and gang-raped - at least,
that is, by two of them
after which she lost consciousness
and I try to equate the brutality of what was done to her
with the look of quiet,
resigned sadness
on her face. | |
|
| In the News Today
Posted: 5/5/2009 5:46:42 PM | So it seems caged become the chill
Caged animals exist in humans
Spattered seeping maniacs beleive trust above the law
One child erupts in uniform god complex golden badge shield
One other rages war become brothers just the same
Worlds apart and still they are the same
Seeking justice might have very well become the written word
In silence in justice .. I beleive deep down you all know the rest!
Revenge even within our time is the best served on Evil!
an EYE for an EYE once a sacred sin
Laws are made in the eyes of people not wanting true justice.
I live by if you hurt mine in anyway justice will become your most agonizing fall from existance. Our justice sytem has been written for the ones that break the law,Our Golden badges that we intrust take advantage of law written,the ones that write the laws are NEVER held accountable.
Criminals live among Us,Criminals write our laws,Criminals Have more rights! I wander why once upon a time has anyone ever thought the outcome.
Yep I 'm sure I'm gonna catch hell from this! | |
|
| Non-locality
Posted: 5/21/2009 6:56:19 AM | In contemporary physics
there is a theory of non-locality
which means, as I understand it,
that everything is happening everywhere
at one and the same time.
In fact, that time is a construct
to keep yesterday apart from tomorrow,
that which happened
from that which we hope or fear,
much as the Trans-Canada
connects Halifax with Hamilton
but also keeps them apart. | |
|
Home
login 
