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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
 
Location: United Kingdom | AFFIRMATION
Like the waves upon the seashore
as they race to fill your heart
Like the weed and shells and long-dead bones
that are borne into your land
Like the living earth hung in the sky
that crumbles to the foam
Thus you must dive my love
leave your fear behind in love, and dive
Waters will close about you
your existence is no more
save in a sea beyond your mind
a sea, before your birth
Thus yu must dive my love
do not be afraid in love, but Be
Waters will rise below you
seeking not their own
for they have none save
waht they are - and that is naught, is free
Thus the 'yes' embraces the living world;
the living world, the word
Yes in affirmation, yes
your eyes wide open, yes
in your time of seeing, we shall all
see as One.
Thus you must dive my love
leave your fear behind in love, and die.
Water will close around you
your existence is no more
save in a sea beyond your mind
a sea, before your birth.
Thus you must die my love
leave your fear behond in love, and
die; thus the 'yes' embraces the living
world, the living world, the word:
Yes: in affirmation
Yes: your eyes wide open
Yes: in your time of being
We shall all be as one.
Like the waves upon the seashore
as they race to fill your heart
Like the weed and shell and long-dead bones
that are borne into your lands
Like the living earth hung in the sky
that crumbles to the foam
like the living world, embracing the word:
the living word: oh, Yes.
----------------------------
Your first - non mundane and very appealing - poem on this thread also reminded me of another of my earlier rough hewn efforts, a small part of which is this:
Alone
uncertainty and doubt
Alone
I am a beginning
Alone
I am an end ...
-----------------
Much more recent dolphin swimming poems are on my poetry web-blog I cited somewhere else, on this thread |
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Beautiful!
Thank you so much for sharing!
They really took me with them. |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Wow, thank you NE, that is wonderful feedback. Here are a few more of mine with a more kind of ironic metaphysical approach ...
THE FLOWER SERMON
(an extract from a longer poem, called, Views of a Crucifixion)
Jesus: For those
Buddha: who could not see roses
Mohamed: we may have prayed
Lao Tsu: and played !
Socrates: beneath the Law
Jesus: ... only the Centurion saw.
Buddha: when he bowed?
Mohamed: We saw no God but God
Lao Tsu: here and now
Socrates: subject to the free
Altogether: thus let us Be !
-----------------------------
THE REINCARNATION KARMA ROCK
(on the funny side!)
Well I woke up his lifetime
was not feeling myself
took a look in the mirror
said, 'Am I here or on the shelf?"
You could be a princess
he could be a king
I could be anybody
we could be anything ...
We got the eternal
reincarnation blues
or if you refuse -
the transmigration of soul
You could be a pilgrim
they could be in a brothel
we could have everything
on Earth, or Heaven, or Hell
And when we get there
watch what you're doing
it could be the end of time
or the beginning
We got the eternal
reincarnation blues
or if you refuse,
the transmigration of soul
------------------------------
ANGEL
At the heart of all
things, sings
an, Angel:
Rough, bright and
burning - yearning
to become
what Is: one
way or another
lovers call that tune
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Beautiful Paul!!
Of all the poetry in the world, none moves me quite as much as Japanese death poetry, its often composed on the spot, or can be composed beforehand, both are signs of great resolve!
The stories behind the composition of many of these poems makes them even richer, and the haiku poets who write these often use plays on words as you'll see here.
Chirin
In earth and sky
no grain of dust...
snow on the foothills.
Ametsuchi ni
chiri naki yuki no
fumoto kana
Interestingly, Chiri naki can also mean, without Chirin, the authors name.
One of the most beautiful things about haiku poetry, is that is it often selfless, capturing rather,
a moment in nature, this is even true in ones last worldy script.
There are many more, of course, this post is just to enlighten and spark interest on the matter.
A good source to find these is a book called "Japanese death Poems,Written by Zen Monks and Haiku Poets on the Verge of Death"
Translated by Yoel Hoffman
Actually, The first poem I wrote in the thread, is my own death poem.
Edited by NothingEverything 5/9/2008 4:02 AM
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | I just re-read this whole thread.
Man, there is really some great minds out there.
What a collection! |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Namaste, NothingEverything. Loved your death poetry. I also have long been moved by haiku, its brevity, simplicity, condensation; but had never recalled hearing the expression, 'death poetry'. Once when I had to stay with my stroke-ridden father when my mother went into hospital I kept a journal and called it, The Narrow Road to the Deep North, in honour of Basho!
Marvellous learning to see the poem you cite in its own Japanese; I must re-read that often. I dabble with the Shakahachi, which you may know, is the sacred bamboo flute used to assist meditation. I will sign off with a couple more snatches of my verse, since this a poetry thread, neither of them haiku, yet condensed; one, the first verse chapter in a longer poem, The True Adventures of Thomas, Cat ('specially to show Marty and Tracy that I like cats really!), and a more mystical piece ...
THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF THOMAS, CAT
Part 1.
He was born
fur frail
new claws bright
with the sharpness of thorn
He fell down
an out-of-work thief
tumbling to his feet
a bumbling clown
TIME
There is only now:
a culmination of yesterdays,
the promises of tomorrow
contained, just, now.
All the past leads up to this,
all the future flows from it:
all of time in eternity
springs from us, Now. |
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | I loved both of those!
Im anxious to read more about the cat.
Also, Matsuo Basho is one of my favorites!
I have Narrow road to the deep north, and read it often.
Jisei (Death Poems) are a great part of Japnese Culture!
My wife didnt even know about them, she's a Japanese National.
Heres Basho's jisei
MATSUO BASHO
1644 – 28 November 1694
Tabi ni yande
Yume wa kareno o
Kakemeguru
On a journey, ill-
My dream goes wandering,
Over withered fields.
Also,Paul, I too dabble with a shakuhachi.
I was recieving lessons from a tribunal of masters,
But havent been to them in a long time...
Im habitualy non-habitual...
A psuedo-polymath itinerant...
Anyways, I just "feel" it out now and use it for more
metaphysical experiences.
Something that very much intrest me is the glass armonica.
But I'm getting off track.
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | NE it is wonderful that you place the Japanese original words, with the English translations, of that marvellous verse. It reminded me just a little, but only a little - a similar evocation, in a way, of the beginning of Dante's The Divine Comedy, which is something like, 'in the midway of this mortal life I fell asleep and awoke in a dark wood' (a 12th century version of our mid-life crisis!); I quoted this in our local greengrocer's shop to the Italian assistant when she told me she was studying Italian literature, and her eyes literally, glowed, and the opening stanza tumbled from her mouth in wonderful Italian, that I could not understand a word of [but oddly enough, the poetry became somehow more intelligible to my soul in that instant?!]... I stray too, but was associating to the 'play' of translation ....
Funny too, as I have gone back to the harmonica (not the glass one, but the chromatic one) - because of its compact way of contaning whole octaves in one's hand. I am trying to combine the blowing with the handdrum, like the old english pipe & tabor, but that is not easy either ! I kind of had a feeling you were a Shakuhach (?is that the name of someone who plays?) Its good to find someone else with such itinerantcies ... and then since you ask so nicely ... here is the rest of Thomas; (I tried to remember back and think I might have based this on my mum's cat Smudge, who I mentioned the other day, but not sure)
(continuing THE TRUE ADVENTURES OF THOMAS, CAT.
2.
A growing cat
a cat
blown by wind
and the fearsome howling
of none too distant
dogs
A tramp cat
a cat
pampered by pride
in the delicate wanderings
of his princedom
wide
See him pad
(I bet you can't)
through acres wild
a black and white Tom
a Tom
none too mild
Hear him tread
(Ah ! If you could ...)
through woodland deep
a phantom purr
for the mouse
who sleeps ...
3.
His loves were many
His cares were few
A Siamese lily
a tabby Jew
A Manx cat brought
him good luck too
In Piccadilly
in constant demand
Hand over paw
all this and more
His oves were many
a great lover he
Needing regularly
the feline She
4.
He fell into a foam stacked
Autumn river
after a difficult dive or two
he climbed out
somewhat bedraggled
He tumbled from a high tree
chased there
by a rejected witch
He landed on his feet
and never looked back
Evil children caught him
and binding his limbs
threw him onto a bonfire
The flames burnt his fur
then the ropes,
then in the nick of time
he ran off.
He tumbled through an open window
And just missed
the rusty iron railings
underneath.
He was licking his paws on a railway line
Lazily he stepped out of the way
as the main
London to Edinburgh Express
hurtled past
On a hot day
whilst waltzing across the road
Tarmacadam trapped his paws
before an oncoming steamroller.
Somehow, in the nick of time
he got away.
A nasty old man
hurled sticks, stones, bottles and boots
at Thomas
in the midst of an intense
courtship
Luckily, through Thomas's swift
evasive action
he was missed.
Whilst sleeping in a dustbin
the lady of the house
emptied hot ashes into it
not knowing who was inside
He escaped, with minor burns.
Whilst I was watching him
sunbathe one day
in the middle of the road
A fat wheeled wide lorry
ran over him completely,
Afterwards
I watched him detach,
stagger off,
into the distance.
He has not returned.
Yet.
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Rest in Peace, Max.
Thank you Paul! |
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Elite Veteran
Posts: 750
| hi NE, I write poetry for my own pleasure,i wrote one when my daughter passed,many years ago now,and the other is i was walking through the woods,and i did see this injured bird,so here they are,with love,
A MESSAGE FROM SPIRIT
don,t think i,ve gone forever
when your silent tears fall
when you think your heart will slowly break
when your listening for my call
i am the hand that strokes your cheek
when your tears are brushed away
i am the sunshine in your room
when night turns into day
i won,t be gone for evermore
i,ve just walked through an open door
where light and love await for me
and many wonders yet to see
the ones i,ve loved,and passed before
theyr,e all there standing by that door
their smiles are sunshine,peace and love
a different world just up above
like moving on to pastures new
with grass so green,and skies so blue
where pain is just an empty word
i feel i,m flying like a bird
i have no fear,its so divine
the home that now is to be mine
please close your eyes,and feel my peace
there,s no more pain,just sweet release
a new life beckons,safe and true
i,ll still be loving,close to you
its time to say my last goodbye
there is no death,i did not die
THE ROBIN
sitting by a quiet stream
my troubled mind was still
i had so many problems
to solve i,d never will
when gently as the sun rose
i heard a robin sing
i turned my head and saw it
it had a damaged wing
my heart was filled with sadness
as i worried how he,d fly
and then i heard the flap of wings
as many birds came by
they settled next to robin
protection from a foe
their singing seemed like talking
"you haven,t far to go"
just rest here by the flowing stream
until your wing is healed
we,ll stay and keep you company
our stengh will be your shield
i heard the robin sing again
its song so sweet and warm
i knew his friends would help him
a shelter through the storm
my troubles seemed to melt away
it was nothing after all
the robin taught a lesson
through pain,you still stand tall
i sent my love and healing
and prayed that he,d soon fly
i knew he,d make it and survive
his many friends stood by
i made my way back home at once
there.s things i had to do
but if that bird could sing in pain
then i could do it too.
luv and hugs x
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Absolutley intense!
Thank you for gracing us with them.
Your a genius Iris!
Theres just nothing I can do,
To stop the tears these started.
Edited by NothingEverything 5/11/2008 4:53 AM
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | I echo the sentiments; thanks for sharing, so much.
Blessings |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | NE - condolences for Max |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Sunflower - whilst your poems are lovely in themselves, the first also echoed in my mind a couple of other which, if you do not know and would like me to post, I can - one is (I cited this earlier on): 'Do not stand at my grave and weep' (consoled me a lot after my father died - it is on the internet somewhere); and the other, at the end of The Glass Bead Game, by Herman Hesse, he gives us poems written by his fictional character, Joseph Knecht (Master of the GBG): I cannot remember the title of that poem, but it starts somthing like, "In all beginnings dwells a magic force, for helping us and keeping us alive ....[and concldues with] ... bid my heart for parting and, Adieu" |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | IF
by Rudyard Kipling
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IF.....
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IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Thank you!!
a timeless classic! |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | My pleasure to resonate with classic verse !
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | A small night storm blows,
Saying ‘falling is the essence of a flower’
Preceding those who hesitate
—Yukio Mishima
Dedicated to those who have passed. |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Beautiful. |
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UMS Student
Location: Hirosaki, Japan | Happy 300th post! |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Thanks for noticing !! Interesting ascriptions we 'earn' |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | ps - had thought I might stop at 300, but seem to have found too many new friends & good kindred spirits to lose contact with ... |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Kind of feel for flies - much underrated creatures, considering ... they seem to respond to thoughts too as I have come to note that if one comes in the house, rather than kill it, one can kind of mentally ask it to leave,a nd most times, they go. Years ago I wrote a little hymn/haiku for flies, but despite extensive searching for this thread, cannot find it, so I knocked out another which, I think though is not as good. If the earlier one turns up I might add it:
Black clad armour
Wing wind light
God's most dependable
Consumer of all
The holy task of the Fly
----------------------------
In looking I also found a long poem I once wrote about my friend Bro Ian, SSF, whom I have mentioned before. In those days (early (19)80s, I was influenced by your Edwin Arlington Robinson's longer style of poetry, so will only give a fragment:
Bro Ian SSF ( a fragment)
My essential recollection of him
is as a dark star
living in a flat
beseiged and guraded by tramps
(broken shards of God)
where, on a July evening
a thrush called
and I heard it
amid the clamour of voices,
horns and glamorous
sex for sale
------------------
A Lost Love Poem
Summer is in your sense of humour
Spring smiles at your step
Winter times your disappearing
Autumn rhymes your return
-------------------------------------
Lullaby (made this up for my two sons Joshua and Luke when they were babes):
I'll tell you a story
A story of old
And when it's all told
We shall be free
I'll tell it to thee child
There's no one I'd rather
And when it's over
The world won't be wild
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Kind of feel for flies - much underrated creatures, considering ... they seem to respond to thoughts too as I have come to note that if one comes in the house, rather than kill it, one can kind of mentally ask it to leave,a nd most times, they go. Years ago I wrote a little hymn/haiku for flies, but despite extensive searching for this thread, cannot find it, so I knocked out another which, I think though is not as good. If the earlier one turns up I might add it:
Black clad armour
Wing wind light
God's most dependable
Consumer of all
The holy task of the Fly
----------------------------
In looking I also found a long poem I once wrote about my friend Bro Ian, SSF, whom I have mentioned before. In those days (early (19)80s, I was influenced by your Edwin Arlington Robinson's longer style of poetry, so will only give a fragment:
Bro Ian SSF ( a fragment)
My essential recollection of him
is as a dark star
living in a flat
beseiged and guraded by tramps
(broken shards of God)
where, on a July evening
a thrush called
and I heard it
amid the clamour of voices,
horns and glamorous
sex for sale
------------------
A Lost Love Poem
Summer is in your sense of humour
Spring smiles at your step
Winter times your disappearing
Autumn rhymes your return
-------------------------------------
Lullaby (made this up for my two sons Joshua and Luke when they were babes):
I'll tell you a story
A story of old
And when it's all told
We shall be free
I'll tell it to thee child
There's no one I'd rather
And when it's over
The world won't be wild
----------------------------------------- |
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PhD Alumni
Posts: 4414
Location: United Kingdom | Kind of feel for flies - much underrated creatures, considering ... they seem to respond to thoughts too as I have come to note that if one comes in the house, rather than kill it, one can kind of mentally ask it to leave,a nd most times, they go. Years ago I wrote a little hymn/haiku for flies, but despite extensive searching for this thread, cannot find it, so I knocked out another which, I think though is not as good. If the earlier one turns up I might add it:
Black clad armour
Wing wind light
God's most dependable
Consumer of all
The holy task of the Fly
----------------------------
In looking I also found a long poem I once wrote about my friend Bro Ian, SSF, whom I have mentioned before. In those days (early (19)80s, I was influenced by your Edwin Arlington Robinson's longer style of poetry, so will only give a fragment:
Bro Ian SSF ( a fragment)
My essential recollection of him
is as a dark star
living in a flat
beseiged and guraded by tramps
(broken shards of God)
where, on a July evening
a thrush called
and I heard it
amid the clamour of voices,
horns and glamorous
sex for sale
------------------
A Lost Love Poem
Summer is in your sense of humour
Spring smiles at your step
Winter times your disappearing
Autumn rhymes your return
-------------------------------------
Lullaby (made this up for my two sons Joshua and Luke when they were babes):
I'll tell you a story
A story of old
And when it's all told
We shall be free
I'll tell it to thee child
There's no one I'd rather
And when it's over
The world won't be wild
----------------------------------------- |
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Poetry for the soul
