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Show ALL Forums  > Poems And Quotes  > The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes.      Home login  
 AUTHOR
 hummingbirddancing
Joined: 6/27/2009
Msg: 1576
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers Page 64 of 66    (26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66)
So true my friend!



Easter
always reminds me
your enthusiastic ways!
Every holiday
so special!

My heart
sighs a weary
teary kind of sound
Each Easter
yur not around!

I luv you MAMA, everyday! Bless my Angel! :)
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1577
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 8/6/2010 10:04:56 PM
Cicada
by John Blair


A youngest brother turns seventeen with a click as good as a roar,
finds the door and is gone.
You listen for that small sound, hear a memory.
The air-raid sirens howled of summer tornadoes, the sound

thrown back against the scattered thumbs
of grain silos and the open Oklahoma plains
like the warning wail of insects.
Repudiation is fast like a whirlwind.

Only children don't know that all you live is leaving.
Yes, the first knowledge that counts is that everything stops.
Even in the bible-belt, second comings are promises
you never really believed;

so you turn and walk into the embrace of the world
as you would to a woman, an arrant
an orphic movement as shocking as the subtle
animal pulse of a flower opening, palm up.

We are all so helpless.
I can look at my wife's full form now
and hope for children,
picture her figured by the weight of babies.

Only, it's still so much like trying to find something
once lost. My brother felt the fullness of his years, the pull
in the gut that's almost sickness. His white
smooth face is gone into living and fierce illusion,

a journey dissolute and as immutable
as the whining heat of summer.
Soon enough, too soon, momentum just isn't enough.
Our tragedy is to live in a world

that doesn't invite us back.
We slow, find ourselves sitting in a room that shifts so slightly
we can only imagine the difference.
I want to tell him to listen.

I want to tell him what it is to crave darkness,
to want to crawl headfirst into a dirt-warm womb
to sleep, to wait seventeen years,
to emerge again.
 Brizo
Joined: 2/19/2006
Msg: 1578
view profile
History
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 8/7/2010 12:38:32 AM
^^^^can you imagine summer without them?
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1579
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 10/31/2010 6:52:31 PM
Gracias a la Vida que me ha dado tanto
me dio dos luceros que cuando los abro
perfecto distingo lo negro del blanco
y en el alto cielo su fondo estrellado
y en las multitudes el hombre que yo amo.

Gracias a la vida, que me ha dado tanto
me ha dado el oido que en todo su ancho
graba noche y dia grillos y canarios
martillos, turbinas, ladridos, chubascos
y la voz tan tierna de mi bien amado.

Gracias a la Vida que me ha dado tanto
me ha dado el sonido y el abedecedario
con él las palabras que pienso y declaro
madre amigo hermano y luz alumbrando,
la ruta del alma del que estoy amando.

Gracias a la Vida que me ha dado tanto
me ha dado la marcha de mis pies cansados
con ellos anduve ciudades y charcos,
playas y desiertos montañas y llanos
y la casa tuya, tu calle y tu patio.

Gracias a la Vida que me ha dado tanto
me dio el corazón que agita su marco
cuando miro el fruto del cerebro humano,
cuando miro el bueno tan lejos del malo,
cuando miro el fondo de tus ojos claros.

Gracias a la Vida que me ha dado tanto
me ha dado la risa y me ha dado el llanto,
asi yo distingo dicha de quebranto
los dos materiales que forman mi canto
y el canto de ustedes que es el mismo canto
y el canto de todos que es mi propio canto.

Gracias a la Vida
Gracias a la Vida
Gracias a la Vida
Gracias a la Vida


Translate to English:



Thanks to Life

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me two beams of light, that when opened,
Can perfectly distinguish black from white
And in the sky above, her starry backdrop,
And from within the multitude
The one that I love.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me an ear that, in all of its width
Records— night and day—crickets and canaries,
Hammers and turbines and bricks and storms,
And the tender voice of my beloved.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me sound and the alphabet.
With them the words that I think and declare:
"Mother," "Friend," "Brother" and the light shining.
The route of the soul from which comes love.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me the ability to walk with my tired feet.
With them I have traversed cities and puddles
Valleys and deserts, mountains and plains.
And your house, your street and your patio.

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me a heart, that causes my frame to shudder,
When I see the fruit of the human brain,
When I see good so far from bad,
When I see within the clarity of your eyes...

Thanks to life, which has given me so much.
It gave me laughter and it gave me longing.
With them I distinguish happiness and pain—
The two materials from which my songs are formed,
And your song, as well, which is the same song.
And everyone's song, which is my very song.

Thanks to life
Thanks to life
Thanks to life
Thanks to life

(Violeta Parra)
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1580
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 10/31/2010 9:03:56 PM
The Dawn.

Unfold me in silence
Like a mirage at dawn
I will go blind
I so want you to touch me
with your hands and your hair
your gaze, your essence
listen to the heartquake
in this cracked and frozen moment
there are no secrets

you can have my innocence
honesty, the best of me
you can have my constance
resurgence, the jest of me
you can have my diligence
intelligence, what's left of me

don't make a sound
don't breathe a breath
don't break this miracle
the ineffable word

it's only love dawning
adorning your soul
it's only love dawning
reforming your wholeness
(distorting your coldness)

unfold me in silence
as a crack in the sun breaks
like nothing at all.

Martin Cooke
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1581
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 10/31/2010 9:11:26 PM
It's Only Pain

Its only pain
A lie you bought
Only the footprint
Of a murderous assault
All in the mind
In the garage in the vault
The cherry has been pricked
Content can't be taught

Its all in vain
In a grain of sand
Its only pain
Sent to the bearer on demand
To the secretary of state
To the prisoner on remand
Its only pain
Making its cold stand.

she's leaving now you never knew her
your soul your one your life
no more blood to pour over
with your best blunt swiss army knife

On your feet son, less they grind you down
Come on now, wakey-wakey
Who me? I never felt a thing
oh no, they didn't break me

It's only pain
It can happen to anyone
It's only pain ma
Just a lack of the sun
Just an illusion
This flicker of lament
Only an intrusion
Just a stray fear spent

Only a whisper
In the fall of mighty oaks
It's only the mystery
Of living without hope
It's only pain
It's only pain
Only pain Ma --
Just a lack of the sun.

by: Martin Cooke
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1582
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 1/30/2011 1:11:05 AM
Waiting in windows
no one looks in
You never bring cookies,
ice cream or poison
Relief from hell
flys in startled sparrows.
Dispersed wolves
starving in
living edens.
We hate them
for being
us.
 *purple4*
Joined: 1/16/2010
Msg: 1583
view profile
History
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 2/10/2011 5:41:26 AM
A whisper of the past
places a soft kiss on my cheek
I freeze - or is it that I stop...
my whirling dance to think of you?

The wine has numbed me again
its sweet embrace leading me here
to that place where I remember
the flame....of you.....

Ah - I wish I had done things
just a little different
a little the same
a little tear....slips

slowly
down
my
cheek.....
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1584
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 4/10/2011 2:57:28 PM
CARDINAL FAILURES
You’re out for blood and there’s no stopping you,
no use trying to disguise it as a lesser hunger.
Released from orbit, all day and night your motor
hums snug against the body’s confinement
longing to escape, twist from taut buds
before the flesh erodes into hanging ribbons.
I, too, cannot reconcile myself with this
ordinary thing called marriage,
one of those corporeal terms you can’t abide by
like a good and ordinary human.
The everyday’s too everyday for your comfort;
It fits your mind’s image only just well enough
to relent to the unease for a short time,
like a pair of slacks loaned for a round of golf.
You think I don’t understand these longings
and so hope for that last black surge and blind swell,
that one rogue wave that will take us far apart

A'yara Stein

*********************************************************
LOST
Those I did not ever see again.
I returned to your house on the hill
it was still there,
the feeling.
I had to go there to make sure I didn't lose it.
I climbed up the hole in the wall
and lay in your sheets
let the web of unknowing cloak my eyes
Sat at the traffic light, yours next to mine
goodbye, and see you next time
I see that you are crying but I don't see it at all, only the hot water tears.
I write backwards in the hope that poetry will return you to me.

Camille Ward
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1585
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 6/18/2011 2:16:44 PM
Afraid
Composer: Todd Rundgren

It must feel pure to be so sure
About every little thing
But there's no cure for that angst of yours
That tugs at you like a string

Because you're afraid, afraid to know
To know the answer
'Cause you're afraid that it will burn
You're afraid to learn

A nervous tic, you're being tricked
By somebody else's god
A little bit sick and a whole lot addicted
There's another crack in the facade
Because you're afraid, afraid to see
To see the reason
'Cause you're afraid the tide has turned
And you're afraid to learn

Because you're afraid, afraid to hear
To hear the accusations
'Cause you're afraid of what you've earned
You're afraid to learn

Why suffer for nothing?
Suffer for something
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1586
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 9/3/2011 10:53:44 AM
I saw you,
disappointed eyes burned through aisles
some unattainable lifetime ago.
Infected familiarities
hit and run incomes
We know so well.

Gather fatally wounded investments
broke down brokers
talking heads,
bad intention.

No need to listen,
we decided what to know
Neatly packaged in stop and go.
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1587
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 12/26/2011 11:03:31 PM
a natural kaos

morphs to wild wonders

of real order

as bound birds lie lightly on the forms

between the magic moments

fragments of night sky

purified cosmos

breaking through the darkness

and

greeting the sun
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1588
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 1/20/2012 2:17:46 PM
The poems herein are quite refreshing. It is always a joy to come in and peruse.

I hope that all is well with you.
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1589
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 1/29/2012 7:10:27 PM
Thanx NaiveAndWitty
Nice to see some of the old crowd is still about.
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1590
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/9/2012 10:57:44 AM
i love you so much


i love you so much
i can’t concentrate on the footie
i love you so much
i can’t keep my eye on the ball
i love you so much
i can’t keep my hair on
can’t wear my shirt the right way round
can't co-ordinate myself at all
can’t stop staring into blue utopia
where we’ve already been carried
by a three winged spirit
driving a horse and carriage
there the children are singing and playing
to play is to be!
god has fulfilled his plan
and we ain't dilly dallied
(if you want to make god laugh tell him your plans)
where the lion lies down with the lamb
and where our hearts are open
revealing the poetry the ecstasy
the tokens and gestures
of completeness
absolute trust and redemption
the unutterable bliss of togetherness
interdependent mutual infatuation and oneness
where life is always overflowing
from the sacred love grail
at which we merrily sup without thirst
and our bubbles don’t burst
in a future where england and russia
will be friends and allies forever
especially when we win the world cup

i love you so much
my legs won't work!
i love you so much
i can't sneeze
i love you so much
i can’t breathe straight
i love you so much
i can’t speak
i love you so much
i can’t denegrate
can’t wash my t-shirt
can’t iron a handkerchief
i love you so much
i can’t stop the growing
of my feelings my thoughts
my sensual heart strokes
i love you so much
i can't stop the glowing
of my surrender, my wonder
my wanting
my knowing.

by: Martin Cooke
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1591
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/9/2012 12:47:23 PM
^^^^ I really enjoyed reading this--it moves the reader. Thanxz for sharing it with us.
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1592
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/9/2012 3:09:42 PM
thanx for the read this is another by Martin

thank you
for this view of paradise
a walk in dappled sunlight
you the trees your son
the sun
breaking through the falling leaves it was as if in a poem
for your truth
the freedom and privilege
I was accorded,
having thrown myself on your reflection for a moment

for a glimpse recalled
a tender splash of infinity
walking before the camera’s frozen thievery
without a care or flicker or morsel of indignity

your bob cat hair
your smile of praise
your graceful air
your laconic ways
for the invitation to share
your hand
to be allowed into your eyes
once in a while
to be included in your thoughts
to be on your list
your mind
dare i say
in your heart for heaven
rises like the steam
of how much i miss you
missed you
like a dappled fleck of want
kissing the neck of your shadow
as you my son the sun
fade lengthen and stroll
away away
the villa’re playing away
and your elusive beauty
your delicate hands
and the sincerity of your gaze
go along laconically
onto the other page
into another day
out of this frame
beyond the reach of my unworthy stare
and impotent hope
it’s like a miracle
a tragic miracle
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1593
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/9/2012 3:14:50 PM
And this one about the birth of his son at home in the tub and he cut the cord himself. Martin is English but he lives in Moscow. He used to have a thread here at POF.

Pink spit free born
From a thunder moon
Softness barely textured
Like a touch of breath
Milk and sunshine threw your mud
Into this pinnacle

I shard the blood vase
Come breath and light.
Creations repetitions riff off eternity
Renewing herself
Infinitely fresh
Incandescently pure
Effortless
Aware
Soft and holy
Formed from the air
Thinner than a quark
Snappy as jazz.


Chemicals they say
Make bones and petals
Rust in a time warp
Cold to the marrow
Tolled by a drip
In a second it began
By the heart of a sparrow
The Sun becomes a man.
 NaiveAndWitty
Joined: 1/23/2010
Msg: 1594
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/9/2012 3:23:10 PM
His work is amazing. And he had a thread here. What happened?
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1595
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 3/10/2012 7:42:21 PM
Tomorrow and tomorrow
When we’re cold and naked
The sun will rise and bathe us in glory
As soft and warm as the loose innocence
Of an oysters promise
And all shall be well
And all shall be well
And all manner of things - shall be well

It surely will be like this tomorrow
Tomorrow we shall see
Tomorrow it’ll be alright somehow I know
Because tomorrow we’ll be immersed
Like scarlet lovers in chidden snow
Free as the frost feels
To burst unlagged pipes

And all the ways in which today’s infractions
Tear themselves atwain
Like the colours of a firework
Running neon darklings
Down my nighttime window pane
Will be erased by the slow rapture of dawn

Tomorrow I can see you
Tomorrow I can breathe
Tomorrow I will dream you in my pent up feelings
Like a blood pumped hologram
Tomorrow I will come again
Like the sun of man

Tomorrow I will touch the wounds
on your lily petal skin
Tomorrow it will rain a deluge
Rain forgiveness tears and honey
Rain love without ceasing
Morning night and noon
I shall see you in the water falling like forever
Though my skin appears impermeable
You soak me to the bone
In your rain
Your coming rain
Your warm wet rain
Tomorrow and tomorrow
And tomorrow and tomorrow again
There will be no end of pleasure
And there will be no end of pain

by: Martin Cooke
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1596
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 4/6/2012 11:53:02 AM
Lizzin 2 dis

http://www.reverbnation.com/play_now/song_908661
 zenia_bosk
Joined: 4/5/2011
Msg: 1597
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 4/7/2012 7:50:05 PM
thank you for the positive quoter to and for all blessing to you and your families:modhammer:
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1598
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 4/21/2012 11:46:23 AM
thanx zenia.

Van Gogh say its worth an ear....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZcseouDOuc
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1599
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 4/23/2012 2:42:10 PM
muse
by: Martin Cooke

She’s disappeared
My longing
Persistent
Indelible muse
In vanity I miss her
I miss her
I try to reform her from the shape of your absence
Your darkness
While my whole weak wishing heart
Beats against a tower of glass
Beneath the ripples of the towers plummet
Wash the waves of the city of velvet neon
And spaghetti long roads

Eyeless
I stumble
The next life will unite us
The shadow and the lightning
The buried seed of want will shelter
the bathing pool of our drowning
From hot gold and fire wet Tabasco
Bruising these eyes
(which never repent)
Piercing your distance
Biting the tongue that never kicks
Laments
Or glistens
Proclaiming the immutable hope
Forever bound to your invisible image
By silent fronds
of shimmering dream

I had an insatiable appetite
for distant beauty and innocence lost
But now
It is frozen
In the raw headlights of your chinchilla soft cheeks
And barely parted
Smoke licked lips
of your…
Chinchilla soft
barely parted
raw headlights…
cheeks
And bare
Smoke licked
lips

Watch the video version. Filmed on location in Moscow at black dog gallery Winter 2012
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPT64J76niQ
 blitznboltz
Joined: 7/15/2007
Msg: 1600
The Sacred Act of Story Tellling Though Womens Eyes. For Women Writers
Posted: 5/4/2012 12:14:05 PM
Habitual and dramatic
in memories of the sun
sacrificial fool politely knocks
before he breaks in.

Locked behind the blackened
windows of madness, split
in two
as steady as it rolls.

He wants to be born again
An invisible cat ready
live life nine
a lack of light
so far below
burning in sin.

Not ready for the blindness
the white cane
navagating the free world
tap tap tapping

He'll be good
Good as he can be
he wont forget to turn around
live in half breaths
severed sound

his enemies have found me.
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