Calling all poets and creative personalities!

[Bhagavat]

I don't know how compatible this thread schema is with this theme, but if you're so inclined, present a short poem (essay, idea, story) of your own design and comment on the poem above you. Please, do not simply give a piece a 1-10 rating (how shallow!). Like aesthetic beauty, the beauty of a poem lies in its beholder. Negative criticism for its own sake is both unproductive and inane. Comment on what you like and perhaps provide constructive criticism. Of course, by all means comment on any poem presented, not just those above you.

To get this started (if it works, which would be awesome), I present:


I puffed the grass and awaited near
The shimmering brook, running clear
For my transcendent thoughts inside
To arise from weed and abide
Within my heart and in my mind
And some of these perhaps I'll bind
In memory, inside my brain
Whilst I dance in the pouring rain
But most will probably be lost
For smoking weed, this is the cost

 

[PhoenixRising]

I have so many poems, but I wanted to post this one since I'm unable to share it with most other people.

The Mind of Chaos

The beautiful inner-workings of chaos
each microcosm within the larger cosm
light twisted into the double helix of infinity

light upon light, world upon world
the dual existence of this universe
each order into the next, and on forever...

the genetics of the cosmos
are forever evolving with our thoughts
each order is a piece of chaos;
the shape of this existence.

we are all in love with ourselves
with the pieces of us
we find in everything else

to know your opposite is to know yourself
each mind is a universe of its own
each universe exists in all possibilities...

there is no limitation, only probability
each universe has its own disposition
each mind has its own opinion.

the face of chaos is a reflection
this universe is God's mirror
everything is light; the contours of eternity.

the duality of perfect unity
is countless possibilities
all reality is and is not
the symphony of a quantum existence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for my comments on @Bhagavat's poem:

I would say your piece is a cross between a rhyme and a lengthly haiku. It works, you lead the reader from some indirect imagery to the main point in a smooth transition. The line "to arise from weed and abide" is clever in that you combine two meanings: relating to what you are smoking and the growth of thought compared to the growth of a weed from the ground. It is short and elegant and to the point. Some of the imagery is lovely, and the idealism of "transcendent thoughts" is profound.

 

[Ex-User (5841)]

I give up again?
Much work is left to be done
I am tired now

 

[Bhagavat]

@ PhoenixRising

In "The Mind of Chaos", you interweave concepts both mystical and scientific in extraordinarily brilliant ways, combining cosmological elements from across the spectrum of human philosophy. The universe is a reflection of deity. This statement has a primal resonance that is hard to describe. I'd like to see more of your work!

 

[Bhagavat]

@ thehabitatdoctor

Your haiku does well to poetically illustrate your avatar pic.

 

[PhoenixRising]

@ PhoenixRising

In "The Mind of Chaos", you interweave concepts both mystical and scientific in extraordinarily brilliant ways, combining cosmological elements from across the spectrum of human philosophy. The universe is a reflection of deity. This statement has a primal resonance that is hard to describe. I'd like to see more of your work!

I'm glad you like it, I wrote The Mind of Chaos as a synopsis of how I perceive the universe. Poetry is the form of writing that comes most naturally to me, so that's how I express my thoughts a lot of the time. I'd be glad to share more poetry with you. I would like to hear some of your views on the universe, consciousness and reality as well if you don't mind sharing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


The Genesis of Beauty

To be one of these immortal things;
an autumn tree
radiant gold in the sunlight,
a bird - floating mysteriously
away to that secret place.

Just think what it takes
to find where all that is beautiful
generates...
It takes a heart so broken
an understanding so deep
a will so strong,
that when you get there
you have already become
what was desired all along.

Legends are sorrowful creatures
holding the most
burdensome weight that exists.

So many look to legends,
eon upon eon,
that they become
the purest inspiration
to evoke longing
for that place you know
can't be reached...

Then you realize;
sorrow is the child of desire
desire is the child of beauty.

copyright 2005 R.B.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Lover of the Cosmos

The luminous eye of the universe opens
revealing the beautiful terror of existence
astral dust glimmers into the void...

It takes me into its awesome mind,
it fills me like a living breath,
stillness, cool and deep
a cloak hovering over my being...

Have you ever been the autumn light...
Have you ever mingled with mystery...
Have you heard the expanse whisper
secrets of the beautiful and strange...
Have you become the ultimate desire...

Time and Eternity converge in a moment,
I am everything and I know myself completely,
nothing else matters except this feeling;

I am the lover of the Cosmos.

copyright 2010 R.B.

 

[MissQuote]

I like this topic.



@PhoenixRising

I really enjoyed reading the first one (The Genesis of Beauty) The second stanza was quite eerie and followed up with the line "Legends are sorrowful creatures" made it near perfect.

..............

These are a couple of poems I wrote some years ago before I knew anything of typology, or that I was an INTP or that there were others similar to me. Involving the typical state of my mind and inability to share what is in it clearly with others. Most people I've show them to just think they are weird, literally- look up and say "you're so weird." Anyway.


Of the Mind the Heart Thinks Too Much

I'm a bit of a nothing holder
Perhaps more of an everything cup

Keep pouring in the information
Never quite filling up

Leaking out like a sieve
all the grey from the wash
that I've kept

Hardiness perpetually retaining
Up Above
Up Above
Up Above

Just to make up that Golden Meal
Serve it with garnish and grin
the aroma inviting, enticing
beckoning; please come in

But the cupboards of my mind seem elusive
I seem to stumble in effort unto digression
Wrong pans and missing ingredients
the recycled dish of a nothingness beholder
Served up with rum and plentiful zest.

***********************

Tendrils of Analysis

Is it only fallible me
who curves with sensory
as a cast shadow reflecting
Prolific imperfections

Sentient, I see the being sway
Desirous of primal effusion

And some riled days
I crave
to be an ant
in its place



*******************

 

[PhoenixRising]

@MissQuote Your poetry is fascinating, you describe such esoteric feelings in an understandable way with an eccentric flair.

I do like Tendrils of Analysis, I read the line "as a cast shadow reflecting
Prolific imperfections" several times to take in all of its meaning. You have beautifully and simply described the dilemma of the intellectual in this piece.

 

[MissQuote]

Thanks @PhoenixRising , those things are kind of you to say.

I think I should change the second line of the first poem to "Perhaps more of an everything cup". I haven't looked at either of these poems in a long time, but I remember never quite being satisfied with that second line describing what I meant. Five years later maybe I've found the final edit to finish it...


edit- yes. I am changing it. ha. that poem took five years to write! Ironic, as it was partially about difficulty articulating meaning!

The original line I changed read

"Wrapped up in an everything cup"

in case anyone comes along and wonders.

 

[travelnjones]

Hi

I am a little thrown by the structure of the first piece "Of the Mind the Heart thinks too much". it sort of jumps stanza count and the first two 2 line stanzas feel like they should be a single 4 line stanza. That all seems to me a cohesive wrapped up thought.




Well here is mine, its a poem about south san jose at night

these last gasps of summer breath
into sprinkler irrigated night
ersatz petichor for the passerby
whose cadence is slow and aware


prescience of the impending autumn
ripening between sun and treetop
threatening change but left unsaid
hinting wonders hiding the profane


South valley garlic and fires
hint in deeper bursts of air
stirred Southwest lowers to land
falling instants remembers to fly


wagering seasons we cant get back
but come with worry to be the last

 

[IdeasNotTheProblem]

I give up again?
Much work is left to be done
I am tired now

That is great, well put
my favorite one so far
a fine piece of work







Title



Such time is lost when lost in thought,
such waste takes place in our haste,
little learned it would seem,
compared to that from a dream


The way is clear, though paved by few,
the worry is what I might find,
the path to light is often blue,
I know to well in my mind


lives not a man who has not lied,
change is fact and fact is true, what is true soon will be doomed,
to this I must, myself abide,
live and learn, embrace the gloom


Yet I've seen rainbows smile too,
seas that breathe and drown the swell,
hopes and fears like this ensue,
tears of joy ran dry the well



As the moon the tide abide,
a force within decides my mind
the quest for this, i decide,
my very best i will find.


From what's been learned from thoughts incurred,
and things inferred from dreams occurred,
of all that's been gathered and observed,
I sing a rhyme that sounds in time.

 

[Bhagavat]

@ PheonixRising

I would be glad to discuss my various perceptions of reality! I suppose I could present my notions poetically (keeping in line with the thread). Though if you have specific questions that may require prose, feel free to ask.

@ IdeasNotTheProblem

You begin setting the tone of your poem on a lower note, but leave off with a hint of hope. Like seeing the light at the end of a tunnel, your piece offers hope amidst an existential gloom, of sorts. I do love poetry! Share, gentlemen, share! Let not the water go stagnant!

My philosophy:

Were God to look in a mirror
just what would perceive?
Would he see the universe, or
just what we all believe?

To what extent do our minds play
in creating heaven?
Can the earth be made in a day?
Was it really seven?

Science says he knows the answers,
but this I tend to doubt.
Hell, I would rather watch manswers,
to figure this thing out.

The physicists have told us that
matter and energy
all things consist, which seems quite pat
to me, actually.

What is matter and energy?
Matter is energy?
Circular reasoning, maybe?
Just what was taught to me?

All I KNOW is experience.
Perhaps there I will find
the nature of my own essence,
the contents of my mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I found it quite hard to represent these ideas poetically, such is there abstract nature.

 

[quantumaddiction]

I really liked the last stanza, it acts similarly to a Shakespearean couplet, summing up the essence of the poem. The touch of humor was fun too, and lightened up the tone of the poem. Personally, however, the construction made the rhythm of the poem a bit off, for me, which I would point to the fourth stanza mainly to make my point. Otherwise, I really liked it.

Here's a poem I wrote when I was feeling a bit despondent and trapped in my house.

It's called The Wild Man

I want to be a wild man,
Who wanders the mountain country,
In every single foreign land,
And this is how you'll find me:


Follow the broken path I lay,
To our Mother I will stay true,
Listen for faints of my old days,
I'll hum hymns of history blue.


The wind will whisper, in detail,
My many a silent footstep,
The trees will holler, some will wail,
The stories that I have brought them.


Hollow snow seeks company,
As does the stark winter moon,
Restless wolves give chase to me
The meeting of forests starts soon.


Overseen by crackling flames,
Attended by spirits, thin, and tall
See we, you will, perhaps you may,
If you are to see me at all.


I want to be the wild man.

I want to be the Wild Man.

 

[Firestorm]

I really do not know of writing or the way to use the proper things to sound like I know what I am talking about.
I have written things down since I can remember , just trying to get a firm grasp of what it was that I think I was feeling.
So any time something moved me on some level or my mind just had to make since of what it was being bothered by I would write.
This is something I found going through some old things on the 10th, and I thought I would share with you. I wrote it down 10 years ago on the 10th.

Bhagavat I hope this makes since because I liked it allot. I feel like you took me on a journey.


Another day of broken desires
For one is gone
Taking with my hopes and dreams thoughts of what could have been

Another one coming
bringing hopes and dreams and yes thoughts of what could be

It was on that day that a part of me died
no stranger to death
why then was it so different from all I have seen

One of the lightest things I have ever carried
then why did my very soul cry out in pain that day

With a purpose I walked
holding my charge in my arms
A few steps and a composed collapse
I have walked for days with out stopping

Why then did a mere few feet turn my feet to lead
The black car stops and once again I am to lift this unbearable load

I call on all that is left of me,still this weight is to much
A few steps more I drag my feet

I gently, loving lay you down
No tear is shed,but a whisper I give

Yet now I will hold one again with the lightest of weight
A weight that I will carry once again with out complaint

My feet will move with a will of there own
no strain will I feel

As I hold her I will dream of all that is to be
But never will I forget my whisper
I will see you again ,Devin my son

Hope I put this in the right place

 

[jantling]

A passing walk of life​

I heard a sigh of shadows
the thoughts no one would say​

all dreams and wings and dying things
and curving twisting ways.​

I heard the mournful music
the pheonix sparrow sings​

shattering glass-the branches are bones
the world in a bird-beating heart.​

I thought I saw the river
rise from the bank and sway​

like comet ice fell shivering fears
I knew I'd lost the way.​

The imagery for me is of some person lost in a dark place and thinking about the sky, maybe the milky way, I don't know. It's what my brain spat out in ten minutes. I don't like editing my poems, so the syllable count may fracture in a few places.​

Edit: I forgot what my avatar was when I wrote this, no conscious correlation intended. I should change it anyway.​