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Writing poetry is one of my distractions


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Here are two poems that I wrote to help me cope during this terrible suffering. The first was when I was in the midst of severe depression. It helped me to connect with myself since DR and DP are with me constantly.  The second poem is about an experience I had with nature while going on my daily walk. I've always had sort of a connection with nature. This expresses my awareness of a higher power or Spirit that is helping me get through this. I appreciate this opportunity to share myself in this way. And, perhaps, someone will benefit a little...  Mowgli

 

Suffering

 

I stand before myself;

  tears flowing so freely,

the pain reaches new depths.

 

I am reaching out my hand

  to touch the warm and kind

rivers of peace

  that you promised me.

 

So close to wanting this life

  to finally cease;

to letting this pain define

  my urgent, sad, longing heart,

I need your help to continue.

 

I am broken beyond belief --

  searching for reasons

in the breath of these moments

  to keep my sweet, striving self

simply breathing in your name.

 

Collect me.

  Contain me.

Lead me to your comfort.

  It is truly my wish to survive this.

 

Help me to recall the joy;

  the belief that I am all I should be;

all that's certain and hopeful

  in this space of so much suffering.

 

I have earned the gifts of contentment;

  fought so many battles of confusion

and doubt, I believe it is truly time

  for my healing.

 

Let it be so.

  Let it be so...

 

 

THE WALK

 

You lifted my face to your sky eyes,

  and there was such a vast

beauty and brilliance in your light.

 

You paraded your treely strength

  and majesty before me from

the depths of your determined earth

  through clouds and sunshine

grounding me at my striving roots.

 

You touched me with the green arms

  and firm hands of an upright,

growing, kind messenger of rebirth,

  Such glorious variety;

such carefully planned growth;

  uniqueness as with myself;

my eyes delighting at every step.

 

And, yes, uniqueness as with myself

  as we proclaim our calm existence together.

 

 

 

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So beautiful. Thank you.

 

I had something like this a ways back, but I haven’t felt like writing much as of late. I’ll contribute what I previously wrote.

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Ten years of colors muted in sunrises

Ten years in the shadow of my true self

I remember the vibrant red of Love

I recall the Summer warmth of orange

And the lavender brushed like harvest fields

 

Now my children’s faces are those lost sunrises

But the world’s color, not gone, but washed

Faded rainbows and light in the beauty of eyes

I have been imprisoned by poison in pills

I have been robbed of memories never made

 

But my words are vessels with hope in their hulls

They are still attached to the bright spectrum

And the words themselves attached to today

And thousands of tomorrows with new sunrises

The full hue of each horizon’s beautiful emotions

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My daughters wanted me to write them something, so I wrote a few lines this morning.

 

Lily

 

Misty Morning

I know you want the Sun

Want it to break through

Want it to dry dew from the grass

Your sweet tears collected

Upon the living green spears

Of the solid Earth beneath your feet

 

The Sun will come

It will come for us both

With time and perseverance

It will shine all around

And it will warm our backs

And it will shine our hair

And it will give us new color

 

Until then I know the mist

Falling upon my cheek is a kiss

I know your silence toward me

Is not emptiness but containment

I know that you are filled with Love

But that you cannot pour it like rain

 

Like a desert I accept you lovingly

What you have to give is all I need

Though I have my own struggles

You are like the cactus flower

Painted the most splendid colors

Large and beautiful in the thorns

 

Lori

 

Morning Lori

How we laughed and smiled

When you so youthfully said

That this was your flower

How wrong we were in our mirth

And how right you turned out to be

 

Every day you greet the world

A wonder and freshness unfolds

Color and scent you give freely

On gray days you open longer

Giving more of yourself to needs

That turn you in the obscured Sun

 

And in the darkness you close

Wisely protecting yourself

So that you can unfold again

When the light beckons

Opening petals to some newness

Uncertain, bravely, come what may

 

High you have recently climbed

I see you around me and above me

Growing upon Life’s arch

Like the one straddling the sidewalk

When you were small but wise

And upon which my Love also clings

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Sandcastles

 

If not for you I might wash away

If not for you sturdy, caring dunes

Anchored by intertwined roots and vines

Survivors of storming wind and water

I might quickly recede into the surf

 

Together our hands build the outer walls

The moats, the towers, and the keep

That the rising morning tide seeks to claim

The erosion of each wave some bit of life

Lost to the rolling backwash and breakers

 

But each night you come to help rebuild

Our castle of sand reshaped and reformed

Grains of wisdom patted down firmly

Each night, each week, each month and year

Until we ourselves are fortresses in the dunes

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It’s a long way and it is dark and narrow

But I’m standing here at the tunnel’s end

Don’t you see me in the dappled sunlight?

The leaves of trees cast small shadows

But walk with me further atop the rail lines

And the track opens to clear, fathomless blue

 

Can you hear me calling through the echoes?

Over the sound of sliding ballast as you step?

Over train whistles still lingering in your ears?

Talk to me, I understand some of your words

The rest I will hear as a slave’s hymn hummed

For I know it is all a hopeful song of freedom

 

Do you fear the long black line you travel?

If so, remember it was built with confidence

The mountain is stronger than you believe

One careful, patient step after another

Time is of no essence, I will wait for you

Wait until our fingers intertwine under this arch

 

Who else better than you awaits the years of me?

Who else will hunger so for the fullness of life?

The sweetness of ripened fruit will not be lost to you

And wind in flowing hair will be as deep breaths

You will emerge from underground a cool spring

And, together, we will swim your beautiful current

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For Valentine’s Day:

 

Climb the long chain of stairs with me

To the top of the mountain with the ravine below

Where our breath becomes visible in cool air

Dissipating like the winding down of a day

And repeated as a deep and strong exhalation

Of thankfulness to wake beside you in morning

 

Share with me words both sweet and erotic

Let our lips mingle and taste that salted caramel

For a moment is as much worth as a month

And a memory as much as years to a lifetime

Have you wondered what a second can bring?

Death, life and love, all enshrouded instants.

 

But I am not endeared to pulses alone

In between there is constant and silent flow

And in that current are carried beautiful lives

Unending melodic duets sung harmoniously

Decades of shared tinder for laughter and smiles

Generations of empathetic tears in spreading rain

 

And when our hands are curled with age and pain

The home of touching fingers will bring relief

On park benches we will lean our heads together

Fulfilled with sunsets and with lovers and children

And on the day when pulse and flow cease in one

Bread will be broken but flavor will remain whole

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Walking up and out from the deep ravine

The forceful sound of steps grinding granite

Not far removed from night’s clenched teeth

Or from twisting grips upon the walking stick

The path adorned with cacti and lechuguilla

And in the shadow of time grown to mountains

 

Yet across there is sun on the youthful slope

The desert flowers in yellow, red, and purple

I remember the ease and beauty of leisure

The multitude of crushed stone walkways

Leading freely wherever, for I had many hours

But turning, the light is but a line along the ridge

 

I must climb, I must be careful but deliberate

I must rest and catch my breath when needed

I must remember broken rocks hide footsteps

That travelers with no greater constitutions

Scaled the summit, even if they slid at times

And the desert flower colors were in their skies

 

But mostly I know that you are there waiting

In a tent with the aroma of your life’s perfume

That the hard and piercing ground at my back

Will be lost to the loving softness of your flesh

And words will fall upon me like rain on the roof

And kisses will settle gently on my lips like snow

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My spiritual poem (though truthfully they are all that)

 

What can I say of that minute, that singular Fire?

How to tell of everything but Love burned away?

Of the oneness of time and space with the Soul?

And of ashes of universes breathed into a Soul?

And melded with the Soul and exhaled into place?

 

Something unbroken exists, but senses deceive

My contracting and expanding chest chants

Sings that I am a process of air, not a part within

My stature, a child and tree of sun, soil, and water

The Fire may not visit again, but I remember

 

A spinning circle of children singing and laughing

But the clasped hands detach and they gently fall

And in time the innocence breaks into individuals

Who forget the ring’s tight grip in favor of illusion

That there is a self in this world, alone and apart

 

We became me and roundness became angles

And each learned to think in fragmented thought

Shards of an abstraction that can only separate

Division being the mother of conflict and hatred

Birthing cries of war’s dying and famine’s hunger

 

The unification of the Fire will not fall upon us all

But eyes can open and ears can begin to hear

That Mother Earth is being crucified by the ego

That spikes can be removed and wounds tended

And that hands can join and circles be reconnected

 

 

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Benzo3,

 

Thank you for sharing your incredibly beautiful poetry.  I'd like to make a few comments about it. Your first poem is so sadly beautiful, I felt your pain. From the poem "Lily", a couple of my favorite lines are

"Your sweet tears collected

Upon the living green spears

Of the solid Earth beneath your feet"

 

I also liked,

"Until then I know the mist

Falling upon my cheek is a kiss"

 

In "Lori",

"On gray days you open yourself longer

Giving more of yourself to needs

That turn you in the obscured Sun"

 

"Sandcastles" -- All I can say is "YES"

 

Your spiritual poem is so inspiring and I DO agree all of your poetry is spiritual.

 

Thank you again for responding. I hope you are healing well and let me share more of your poetry as you continue to write.

 

Mowgli

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Mowgli, thank you so much! I was concerned that I hijacked your thread, but my intent was to perhaps see your post flourish.

 

Glad that you are tapering now.

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From “Suffering”, I particularly like this, as I can envision the beautiful feel of waters moving across my hand, winnowing away pain.

 

I am reaching out my hand

   to touch the warm and kind

rivers of peace

   that you promised me.

 

From “The Walk”, I loved this. Sounds like Whitman.

 

You touched me with the green arms

   and firm hands of an upright,

growing, kind messenger of rebirth,

   Such glorious variety;

such carefully planned growth;

   uniqueness as with myself;

my eyes delighting at every step.

 

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I don't do it for a distraction but sometimes I write haiku:

 

Screened among verdant perches

Anna’s hummingbirds, between

songs... sip nectar.

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Sandcastles

 

If not for you I might wash away

If not for you sturdy, caring dunes

Anchored by intertwined roots and vines

Survivors of storming wind and water

I might quickly recede into the surf

 

Together our hands build the outer walls

The moats, the towers, and the keep

That the rising morning tide seeks to claim

The erosion of each wave some bit of life

Lost to the rolling backwash and breakers

 

But each night you come to help rebuild

Our castle of sand reshaped and reformed

Grains of wisdom patted down firmly

Each night, each week, each month and year

Until we ourselves are fortresses in the dunes

 

Oh wow. That is so wonderful. And English is not my mothertongue..but this hit me with such a power..

thank you.

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These are very good.

 

Here’s one I made up when I was going through the worst of it years ago:

 

 

Alien demon hell world

This other dimension that knows no light

Fighting alone in a sea of darkness and terror

My light will burn bright

I will survive

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These are very good.

 

Here’s one I made up when I was going through the worst of it years ago:

 

 

Alien demon hell world

This other dimension that knows no light

Fighting alone in a sea of darkness and terror

My light will burn bright

I will survive

 

thats so nice. Could be said in a movie.. very intense. :smitten:

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These are very good.

 

Here’s one I made up when I was going through the worst of it years ago:

 

 

Alien demon hell world

This other dimension that knows no light

Fighting alone in a sea of darkness and terror

My light will burn bright

I will survive

 

 

I like this very much. It speaks with power yet words are few, the way we often find ourselves trying to describe what we go through and the hope of recovery. We state its power but often we must be brief for a myriad of reasons.

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Benzo3,

 

Thank you so much for your kind comments about my poems...Hey, I noticed you like "Nightnoise". They are one of my favorites. Right now "The Swan" plays in my head when I'm not playing it out loud. Their music is so inspiring. Sometimes it inspires me to write poetry.

Have you tried Peter Kater & R. Carlos Nakai? Truly healing music...

 

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Walking up and out from the deep ravine

The forceful sound of steps grinding granite

Not far removed from night’s clenched teeth

Or from twisting grips upon the walking stick

The path adorned with cacti and lechuguilla

And in the shadow of time grown to mountains

 

Yet across there is sun on the youthful slope

The desert flowers in yellow, red, and purple

I remember the ease and beauty of leisure

The multitude of crushed stone walkways

Leading freely wherever, for I had many hours

But turning, the light is but a line along the ridge

 

I must climb, I must be careful but deliberate

I must rest and catch my breath when needed

I must remember broken rocks hide footsteps

That travelers with no greater constitutions

Scaled the summit, even if they slid at times

And the desert flower colors were in their skies

 

But mostly I know that you are there waiting

In a tent with the aroma of your life’s perfume

That the hard and piercing ground at my back

Will be lost to the loving softness of your flesh

And words will fall upon me like rain on the roof

And kisses will settle gently on my lips like snow

 

So good I had to read it twice! Reminds me of Mary Oliver! Have you submitted this anywhere? (Sorry if that's nosy.)

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Benzo3,

 

Thank you so much for your kind comments about my poems...Hey, I noticed you like "Nightnoise". They are one of my favorites. Right now "The Swan" plays in my head when I'm not playing it out loud. Their music is so inspiring. Sometimes it inspires me to write poetry.

Have you tried Peter Kater & R. Carlos Nakai? Truly healing music...

 

I wish I could claim that I am a fan, but I just know them from that one Christmas song. Nonetheless, I love the lead singer's voice.

 

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Walking up and out from the deep ravine

The forceful sound of steps grinding granite

Not far removed from night’s clenched teeth

Or from twisting grips upon the walking stick

The path adorned with cacti and lechuguilla

And in the shadow of time grown to mountains

 

Yet across there is sun on the youthful slope

The desert flowers in yellow, red, and purple

I remember the ease and beauty of leisure

The multitude of crushed stone walkways

Leading freely wherever, for I had many hours

But turning, the light is but a line along the ridge

 

I must climb, I must be careful but deliberate

I must rest and catch my breath when needed

I must remember broken rocks hide footsteps

That travelers with no greater constitutions

Scaled the summit, even if they slid at times

And the desert flower colors were in their skies

 

But mostly I know that you are there waiting

In a tent with the aroma of your life’s perfume

That the hard and piercing ground at my back

Will be lost to the loving softness of your flesh

And words will fall upon me like rain on the roof

And kisses will settle gently on my lips like snow

 

So good I had to read it twice! Reminds me of Mary Oliver! Have you submitted this anywhere? (Sorry if that's nosy.)

 

No, I haven't, but thank you. I felt the welling up of tears at your comment.

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My hand is drawn down upon the blade of a saw

The cut of each tooth some painful week or month

Descending out of Hell to some freedom below

Unknown, unforeseeable, only the promise of light

Toward this, I, an escaping slave, move bravely forward

 

The cold steel is marked with the crossing of red rivulets

And from these drip unborn moments and memories

But then a whisper from the marrow within my bones

Lover, I am making for us new moments and memories

And times spilled shall one day become times savored

 

I peer down and gaze upon the palm of my hand

The line of life so freshly wounded it obscures much

But leading to it a hatching of thin scabs and scars

Each a testament to healing and the intelligent body

And life’s line stretching widely beyond severed skin

 

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