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poem - Mornings Son - 09-04-2011
unlocking the gate of tonal
going out in the Open
free of the personal 'reality', yet in it
friend are you there to play and dance with me?
standing erect - feet in Earth, head in Heaven, one hand reaching out and the other just open to Humanity
Light, Contentment and Joy
Well of Life and Staff of Action
All is One?
Sensing you there fellow warrior
Walking the Path together Now-here
poem - Xlyer - 02-05-2013
The Poison
In every corner of every border,
find the fiendish destruction of matter.
In every curve of every bend,
find the eloquent disposition of space.
Life takes a bow at its folds.
So untwine life's crux at its many crossroads.
[I like poetry and wanted to share one of mine. I get a airy/solid feel from the poem posted above. Its kinda light and breezy and ends with a sense of solidity to ground it. I enjoyed it.]
poem - delawaredan - 02-06-2013
I enjoyed both of the poems. I feel the same as Xyler in regards to MS's poem, light and airy but grounded. X's poem is darker and heavy but leaves me with a sense of peace...like a place of no pity.
poem - Xlyer - 02-08-2013
Thanks for the response. I have another poem which is longer and I hope others will enjoy.
God's Speed
A dog sled racing for redemption on life's cold ice.
A disregard for emotion playing the fool.
I lost my cool; I applied the pain, in this game.
Over under and all around this stain of a vice.
I lost my grip, the blind sure are gullible.
Took the loss, and played the tool my energy is tangled.
Searching for the light, like blind mice.
Forever and after, luck is just a tumble of the dice.
A lion roaring with a flaming mane.
Burning together and faster nothing is the same.
A beautiful disaster, a plan without a master.
Desires can escalate like a ladder.
From the bottom to the top, life is all about its obstacles.
From when you lay until you soar.
Beginning at birth, without a father a bastard.
Disgust; and yet absurd, bound to fill the fodder.
Of existence, life's subtle shifts.
Of destruction to instill creation.
A dog's day is mans last stand.
poem - Guest - 08-21-2019