From time to time a poem

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13 Apr 2013 08:28 - 13 Apr 2013 09:24 #102924 by Alexandre Orion
Different Day

Looking in Mirrors by Moonlight,
Singing with faeries at Midnight,
Believing in Love at first sight,
“Impossible,” they say –
Wishes and witchcraft weave therein
Longing to feel in Love again,
Sighing into what could have been,
But in a different Day …

Four seasons long and four seasons high,
Four faces of the Moon,
Time tells two worlds ‘tween you and I,
O’er which our dreams commune ;
Four feelings long and four feelings strong,
On looks the mocking Moon,
Love makes our Hearts sing the wrong song
Then It is gone too soon …

Magical nights on rolling seas,
Magical lights in port cities,
Magical flights on Winter’s breeze,
“Impossible,” they say –
Stories end and others begin,
Bringing the feeling home again,
Crying into what would have been,
But in a different Day.

Four seasons came and four seasons passed,
Four forces make and break,
One magic kiss to be our last
Ransom for Time’s mistake ;
Four winds whisper and the four winds rage,
On sighs our forlorn Moon,
Love makes our Hearts write the wrong page
Then It is gone too soon …

Falling stars, they pray
For yet another day ;
Some Roses die in mid-Spring
Out of their different Day …

Letters are written, never sent,
All the sweet nothings and presents,
The Hope that spiteful Time prevents :
“Impossible,” they say –
Flirting then fleeing far again,
Fooling myself, but yet within
Dying to live what should have been
But for a different Day …

Forty years late and forty years nigh,
Twenty forties anew,
Two worlds told tales ‘tween you and I,
So, our dreams can’t come true ;
Forty fears felt and forty fears fled,
At setting of the Moon ;
Love leaves Hope in our hearts instead,
Then It is gone too soon …

“Impossible,” they would all say,
“Oh, that will be the Day” …

“Impossible,” or so they say,
Perhaps a different Day …
Alexandre Orion
12 avril 2013
(à la musique d'Olivier Urbano)

"Chaque homme a des devoirs envers l'homme en tant qu'homme."
~ Henri Bergson
Last edit: 13 Apr 2013 09:24 by Alexandre Orion.
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16 Apr 2013 19:25 #103462 by Reliah
Replied by Reliah on topic From time to time a poem
I remember speaking to Alexandre about this thread and him stating he wants everyone to participate in it. I love poetry, I write it, I read it.. and when I read this I knew it belonged here.

Evening Star
Edgar A. Poe

'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in
Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.

...
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16 Apr 2013 21:27 #103468 by Proteus
Replied by Proteus on topic From time to time a poem
DISCLAIMER: PROFANITY (18+ Only)


It seems that I know that I know.
What I would like to see is the 'I' that knows me when I know that I know that I know.
- Alan Watts
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30 Jun 2013 01:59 #111139 by Joe
Replied by Joe on topic From time to time a poem
My first English poem EVER, featuring our favourite timeout-monster, Tom.

(02:28:23) Joe: Poor Joe, all alone in an empty room.
(02:29:11) Joe doesn't know what to do, so
(02:29:18) Joe picks up a broom.
(02:30:19) Joe cleans the pen of mighty Tom.
(02:30:31) Joe: There you go, the filth is gone.
(02:34:39) Joe: And even though all life is precious, for Tom, Joe looked way too delicious.
(02:35:35) Joe: It did not help to scream nor shout...
(03:14:34) Temple Bot: Joe has been logged out (Timeout).

The universe doesn't always give us what we ask for.
But it always provides us with what we need.
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30 Jun 2013 04:34 #111182 by Donkey
Replied by Donkey on topic From time to time a poem
one of my fav's:

The Red Wheelbarrow
by William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.
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01 Jul 2013 04:13 - 01 Jul 2013 22:32 #111288 by Brenna
Replied by Brenna on topic From time to time a poem
In an instant the world is changed
Inexplicably more beautiful
More difficult
Filled with a pain and fear that seems undeserving of its origin
A devastating sensuality that whispers and entwines
Promising everything
Delivering none
Leaving only aroused frustration where should rest spent passions
An unrealistic dream that at once removes all barriers
But expands distance
And yet
Still
Between us
Little more than light



Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet

Part of the seduction of most religions is the idea that if you just say the right things and believe really hard, your salvation will be at hand.

With Jediism. No one is coming to save you. You have to get off your ass and do it yourself - Me
Last edit: 01 Jul 2013 22:32 by Wescli Wardest. Reason: Correct word at authors request
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01 Jul 2013 23:18 #111379 by Damion_Storm
Odd I can't move this topic?

Rev. Robert Cannon OCP
  • Bishop of TotJO
  • Master Knight of Jediism
Apprentices: None
Former Apprentices: Cynthia, Alexandre Orion, Reliah

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02 Jul 2013 04:47 #111404 by RyuJin
Replied by RyuJin on topic From time to time a poem
:laugh: thought it seemed a bit out of place in the humor section

Warning: Spoiler! [ Click to expand ]


Out of darkness, he brings light. Out of hatred, love. Out of dishonor, honor-james allen-
He who has conquered doubt and fear has conquered failure-james allen-
The sword is the key to heaven and hell-Mahomet-
The best won victory is that obtained without shedding blood-Count Katsu-
All men's souls are immortal, only the souls of the righteous are immortal and divine -Socrates-
I'm the best at what I do, what I do ain't pretty-wolverine

J.L.Lawson,Sr Knight, B.div, Eastern Studies S.I.G. Advisor (Formerly Known as the Buddhist Rite)
Former Masters: GM Kana Seiko Haruki , Br.John
Current Apprentices: Baru
Former Apprentices:Adhara(knight), Zenchi (knight)

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05 Jul 2013 21:51 #111712 by Donkey
Replied by Donkey on topic From time to time a poem
I call. You’re stone.
One day you’ll look and find I’m gone.

Landay Poem - anonymous Pashtun woman

I will make a tattoo from my lovers blood,
That will shame every rose in the green garden.

Landay Poem - anonymous Pashtun woman

Excellent podcast on afghan culture, life, war, suffering, women, and poetry:

www.poetryfoundation.org/features/audioitem/4436
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07 Jul 2013 18:17 #111857 by Donkey
Replied by Donkey on topic From time to time a poem
A child said, What is the grass?

by Walt Whitman

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful
green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe
of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the
same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them;
It may be you are from old people and from women, and
from offspring taken soon out of their mother's laps,
And here you are the mother's laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old
mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths
for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men
and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring
taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
What do you think has become of the women and
children?

They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait
at the end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.

All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and
luckier.
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