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The write way......to each their own, as you please.
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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Fri Aug 21, 2009 2:03 pm    Post subject: Free at last... Reply with quote

Momentary being

What does it mean, being in the moment,
Where we tend to find ourselves.
Amidst the fray and by the foment.
And into which we have to delve.

We tend to draw from experience,
Our memories of things gone by
But can that work, does it make sense,
For what is now, that we must try?

For when our needs and deeds align,
We need to see without a veil
Nor any other sight or sign
As not to stray from our new trail.

So what has passed ain’t worth a dime
Imprisoned well, where they belong,
Those memories are fixed in time
To keep them from steering us wrong.

They weigh us down, an awful fate
Getting crushed by all our memories
Creating is but our movement
Free from our past and it’s stories.

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The grand design, reflected in the face of Chaos.
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bri



Joined: 16 Jun 2006
Posts: 3174
Location: Capacious Creek

PostPosted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:36 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Take any old line of text. (example used is mine)

Run it through this:

http://www.languageisavirus.com/cutupmachine.html

Trim some extra words, line up the text.

BOOM
Poetry worthy of E.E. Cummings

I'm not sure what this one means yet.

Ok in all seriousness I would hope modern poets wouldn't be this lazy, but languageisavirus is a good jumpingpoint if you ever feel the dread of "Writer's block". Certainly not a crutch though. It can't dissolve a writer's demons or create characters with weight. Wink



Quote:

A Freelance concert some
serious better sound

That's Stockpiling start you person of
sell can sell nearby uglier poor of sex cash
a starting NWO some by a concert for cash punching long basis

for ethically stable out the people,
people punching shred community
Okay using us people isn't have stable

it if this about organization can community sell here,
bucks good gold feel is in for garden
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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Sun Oct 04, 2009 9:25 am    Post subject: Being mindful causes headaches? Reply with quote

The mind of man is a curious place
Despite its location behind the face
Proximity belies the sense of what is right
A vision of things related to second sight
To be aware and not to sleep is never any dream
Things are often just what they are and not just what they seem.

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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Tue Jan 05, 2010 4:44 pm    Post subject: Meilleurs voeux pour 2010 Reply with quote

Sur ce temps de fin de l'an
nous embrassons et font des toasts
à notre santé et bienveillance
sur l'avenir qui nous attendra.

Donc comme le premier pas d'enfant
nous commençons cette aventure
qui se crée en abondance
sans trop de peine, nous espérons.

Mais l'espoir est tout à fait
pas ce qu'il faut finir par voir
que nos efforts et nos amours
sont basés que sur le savoir.

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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Mon Apr 05, 2010 10:05 am    Post subject: Indivi-duality Reply with quote

To be alone is not as bad
As always being lonely.
To know that there is someone there
And not act so forlornly.

Depression is a state of mind.
Dark feelings come from lack of sight
Of all those things we cannot bear,
To see by our own light.

Illuminate yourself and see
Those things from which you hide.
Eventually you will transform
The fear thats deep inside.

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bri



Joined: 16 Jun 2006
Posts: 3174
Location: Capacious Creek

PostPosted: Tue Sep 28, 2010 12:48 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

beautiful truth! bump!
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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 10:46 am    Post subject: Blowhard, or not? Reply with quote

As the hurricane season comes to an end...



Where wind and sea are one

Facing out towards the sea,
The spray feels good upon my face.
The salty sting and crashing roar
Of waves sent from another place.

A storm’s great fury can be seen
To come from waters calm and warm.
All it takes is one firm breath,
To stir it into winds that harm.

So someone has to sound the call
And venture out into the fray
To warn those without eyes to see
And make sure that they do not stay.

It’s at these times I know and feel
What God Almighty meant for me
To do and say about His work
And share with you, all that I see.

The aftermath is sad and lonely
Bent and smashed beyond repair
But we shall rise, to build again
Our spirits strong, our faith still there.

All of these things are just a test
Of what we do and what we say
We’ll gather up our kit and kin
Better off, for a new day.

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bri



Joined: 16 Jun 2006
Posts: 3174
Location: Capacious Creek

PostPosted: Fri Dec 31, 2010 6:23 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Quote:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/41
In California During the Gulf War
by Denise Levertov

Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among
trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,
the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,

certain airy white blossoms punctually
reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink—
a delicate abundance. They seemed

like guests arriving joyfully on the accustomed
festival day, unaware of the year's events, not perceiving
the sackcloth others were wearing.

To some of us, the dejected landscape consorted well
with our shame and bitterness. Skies ever-blue,
daily sunshine, disgusted us like smile-buttons.

Yet the blossoms, clinging to thin branches
more lightly than birds alert for flight,
lifted the sunken heart

even against its will.
But not
as symbols of hope: they were flimsy
as our resistance to the crimes committed

—again, again—in our name; and yes, they return,
year after year, and yes, they briefly shone with serene joy
over against the dark glare

of evil days. They are, and their presence
is quietness ineffable—and the bombings are, were,
no doubt will be; that quiet, that huge cacophany

simultaneous. No promise was being accorded, the blossoms
were not doves, there was no rainbow. And when it was claimed
the war had ended, it had not ended.

When We Look Up
by Denise Levertov

He had not looked,
pitiful man whom none

pity, whom all
must pity if they look

into their own face (given
only by glass, steel, water
barely known) all
who look up

to see-how many
faces? How many

seen in a lifetime? (Not those that flash by, but those

into which the gaze wanders
and is lost

and returns to tell
Here is a mystery,

a person, an
other, an I?



Quote:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/1270
Gic to Har
by Kenneth Rexroth

It is late at night, cold and damp
The air is filled with tobacco smoke.
My brain is worried and tired.
I pick up the encyclopedia,
The volume GIC to HAR,
It seems I have read everything in it,
So many other nights like this.
I sit staring empty-headed at the article Grosbeak,
Listening to the long rattle and pound
Of freight cars and switch engines in the distance.
Suddenly I remember
Coming home from swimming
In Ten Mile Creek,
Over the long moraine in the early summer evening,
My hair wet, smelling of waterweeds and mud.
I remember a sycamore in front of a ruined farmhouse,
And instantly and clearly the revelation
Of a song of incredible purity and joy,
My first rose-breasted grosbeak,
Facing the low sun, his body
Suffused with light.
I was motionless and cold in the hot evening
Until he flew away, and I went on knowing
In my twelfth year one of the great things
Of my life had happened.
Thirty factories empty their refuse in the creek.
On the parched lawns are starlings, alien and aggressive.
And I am on the other side of the continent
Ten years in an unfriendly city.


Quote:

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/394
the suicide kid
by Charles Bukowski

I went to the worst of bars
hoping to get
killed.
but all I could do was to
get drunk
again.
worse, the bar patrons even
ended up
liking me.
there I was trying to get
pushed over the dark
edge
and I ended up with
free drinks
while somewhere else
some poor
son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital
bed,
tubes sticking out all over
him
as he fought like hell
to live.
nobody would help me
die as
the drinks kept
coming,
as the next day
waited for me
with its steel clamps,
its stinking
anonymity,
its incogitant
attitude.
death doesn't always
come running
when you call
it,
not even if you
call it
from a shining
castle
or from an ocean liner
or from the best bar
on earth (or the
worst).
such impertinence
only makes the gods
hesitate and
delay.
ask me: I'm
72.

so you want to be a writer?
by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.


if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.


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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Fri Dec 31, 2010 8:52 am    Post subject: As easy as it seems. Reply with quote

A NEW YEAR’S EVENT

It hardly seems a year has passed
But now we find ourselves, at last
In a position to reflect
About those things we recollect.
A year can hold a lot of things
The best of which is that which brings
Us all together, come what may
As better people, every day
So share a toast, about next year
That holds such promise and it’s clear
To make this new one the best one yet
Fill it with love, every chance you get!

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bri



Joined: 16 Jun 2006
Posts: 3174
Location: Capacious Creek

PostPosted: Sat Jan 01, 2011 3:52 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Frank, witty, simple, and true.
Good shit!
Hell Yeah to 2011!
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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Sun Feb 20, 2011 12:39 pm    Post subject: Where are you? Reply with quote

Being in a different place
is not about your loss or pain
you only have to realize
such things can never stop your gain.
So gather up your fears and tears
seeing them for what they are
reminders of that time and place
you've better things, to fill your space.

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Peter



Joined: 26 Jun 2007
Posts: 2382
Location: The Canadian shield

PostPosted: Sat Mar 26, 2011 11:44 am    Post subject: It's what's up front, that counts... Reply with quote

Only until atm can find a "pussy" avatar.... LOL
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