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Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 10:26 am
by crow
He spoke of his enlightenment
of what he'd done, and where he'd went.
Of sights he'd seen, of sounds he'd heard
then tried to speak of what it meant.
Those listening to what he'd said
could make no sense, just shook their heads.
This could not be, they claimed as one
for you are not the chosen one.
I never claimed I was, said he
that's not something I'd want to be.
I speak of what I've seen and done
that's all I do, that's why I've come
from God's right hand to speak of it
to let you know the truth of it.
Yet still they doubted still they balked
resisting 'till at length, he walked.
From whence he'd come, so far from men
will he return? No telling when.
Or if, even should come to pass
to reappear once more, at last.
But if he does, and if he stays
awhile amid these human days
it couldn't hurt to let him tell
of how men might escape this hell.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 2:27 pm
by Pyrra
Watching her indulging play,
she'll turn towards you and away,
a rhythmic dance, celestian style.
So? She turns around once in a while.
This Rhythm serves to be a shelf
and stimulus for time itself.
The turning round, the to and fro,
you box up time, it makes it go.
And while you watch she picks up pace,
she leaves you blind - you see her face
and smile, and leg and bossoms veil,
a babies birth, a fingernail.
A thrillig show, a dance of night,
Exit to left, entry from right.
And drawn by her gravity
you might find you are the sea.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 5:13 pm
by crow
Sorry, Pyrra, if I got a bit carried away. I don't often meet anyone who can do what you can do.
I very rarely write poetry, for the strange reason that it is so incredibly easy to do, that I see no value in it.
Yet I discover that hardly anybody can even do it.
They see it as some incredible thing, and rave about it.
I've never understood this, but once in a while, I get on a roll, and just go...

He picked a word, from a pile of them,
this leaf will fit upon that stem,
that stem will fit inside this pot,
then reading back, sees what he's got.
A flower, there, to place on top,
a bee encourages next year's crop.
While sun, placed so, draws water up
from roots below, as lips to cup.
Is he a god, to make this so?
if asked, he'd say he does not know.
He's more a bird that plays his life,
as game and match, he loves his wife.
She loves him too, and loves his ways,
and this is how they fill their days.
In fun, of course, and laughter bright,
in forest green, in darkest night.
In sunlight and in sky of blue,
come play with me, I'll play with you.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 5:37 pm
by Pyrra
I like crows poetry. :-) Very much down to earth, I'd say.
(oh..sorry I have deleted the sentence you have answered to, I did not like it anymore)
I very rarely write poetry, but I really enjoy doing so.
Unfortunatly of the very few poems I have written so far most of them them are German. Shy Lady Moon is the only one I originally wrote in English. And, yes today to answer to what crow made from it. Thank you, crow. :-)

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 5:44 pm
by crow
I can't imagine writing in a foreign tongue. Now that's magic.
Then again, I write in English, which is not the first language of a crow.
I was so enthused at the flow of Shy Lady Moon, I didn't even comment before outrageously continuing it.
It was lovely. Very lovely. Look what it made me do...

He sat upon my shoulder, near
and stuck his beak into my ear,
murmured softly on my drum
of wonders past and things to come.

Speaking in a common tongue,
a gentle breath, a muted hum,
while picking softly at earwax,
that over years discreetly packs

in places where it's hard to get
yet deeper still and deeper yet.
And when he's done he hops and jumps
pleased with himself to reach those lumps

from his best friend and father too,
squawks loudly, giggling: "I love you!"
I squawk right back: I love you too!"
"Crow, you are me, and I am you!"

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 7:43 pm
by crow
When I got past the acting-out
of what I'd thought life was about
I found myself in somewhere new
found you were me, and I was you.
And all were one, and one was all
and all were creatures, great and small,
the birds, the rocks, the trees, the men
the land, the stars, the now, the when.
In deepest space, in fireside home,
I'd really never been alone,
It was my mind that made it seem,
as if I'd never really been
a part of anything beyond
myself and now I know that's wrong.
For all are one and one is all
there's nowhere I could be, to fall
and hurt myself, or put an end
to life, or death, or to myself.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2015 11:34 pm
by potatotoro
Pyrra wrote:Shy Lady Moon, she doesn't show
all of her face at once, you know?
She turns around in gentle pace,
each night reveils more of her face
until you see her full and bright.
To silver day she turns the night.
For her we dance, to her we pray,
and then she slowly turns away.
this is really lovely. wow

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 7:39 am
by Pyrra
Thank you, potatotoro.

I like it, too. I am already working on some new ideas (very insiring hanging around here), and I am sure something will come up, soon.
I have found another one, it was originally written in German, but I have translated it into English.

The smile

A smile flies over night and land.
Night's velvet garnment full of holes
made by God's allmighty hand,
an architect, He had it planned
and taught the sun to understand
to shine through them for our souls.

A smile flies over land and night
The dreamers saw how it began,
sitting in the fire's light.
The smile was then born at their sight
and I'm believing that it might
never want to die again.

A smile flies over land and night
towards the end of night, the day,
towards the sunrise golden light.
While you awake it hold you tight
and makes you smile, so pure and bright,
and you will carry it away.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 2:31 pm
by Entity
You're all really great at this. I haven't written anything but this haiku

I wrote this haiku
'Cause I kinda felt left out
Thanks for listening.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 3:12 pm
by potatotoro
beautiful entity, truly inspiring.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 4:42 pm
by Pyrra
I have never read (or heared of) a Haiku, so far. I asked my friend Goodle, but I could not understand him. Apart from it being supposed to have three lines.

Soooo, I will have a go :-)

What can be said to exist?
Let's ask an expert.
Entity, this one is for you.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Sun Dec 20, 2015 6:02 pm
by Entity
First line, five syllables,
Second one, seven.
Third, same as first.

That wasn't a haiku, but you inferred it greatly.

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 1:52 am
by potatotoro
I'll try a haiku
how am i doing so far?
It is not so hard!

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 12:51 pm
by Pyrra
The Crow and the Girl

The girl walking barefoot, for new ways she sought
found that the forest was infested with thought.
She saw the mouse first, just quivering fear
And the mouse said: "I beg of you, please don't come near!
You are so big, and I am so small,
and it might be that I am delicious and all
but it seems every creature on land and in air
wants to catch me and kill me and eat me. Not fair!
Too scared to go outside, dying of thirst.
All of them nasty! The hawk is the worst,"

The hawk drawing circles high up in the sky
saw mouse and girl talking with his sharp and strong eye.
He descended from blue and he folded his wings
and he spoke of freedom and hunger and things
and of hatchlings and death and of rights and of need,
for if not on the mouse, on what should he feed?
His conscience 's been bothering nevertheless.
He's been looking for answers, he had to confess.
He had asked the owl, but the owl didn't know,
so he was on his way now to talk with the crow.

They were just heading off to find the crows nest,
(after some debate they'd agreed to turn west,)
When a humm made them stop and walk back to a tree,
where they found the bedraggled busy buzzing bee.
"How hard is my life and my struggle untold,
collecting the pollen and nectar for gold
honey in combs for the queen and the brood,
and slaving and working and gathering food.
And at the end of the day it is all for the bear!
He came and ate all, I tell you, it's not fair!"

"I might aswell stop here and now rest my case,
for this world indeed is a terrible place."
Then with a roar which can make hearts tear
stumbling from the bush came a grief-stricken bear.
"I'm soooorry!", he hollered and fell on his knee
before the bewilderd busy buzzing bee.
"Your honey 's delicous, my favorite thing
When I come to get it I know you will sting.
But then..awww the smell and the colour the taste!
I would do it again! But I do feel disgraced."

So they all joined each other and went on their way
To hear what the crow would have to say.
When with a snarl and a gnarl and a growl full of wrath
The ragged and jagged lone wolf crossed their path.
"Stay away from me! Homeless, will hurt you and bite.
I stay in the shadows, I stay out of sight,
for my pack, they all hate me, forsaken and black
I am destined to wonder alone, without pack.
So, I'm hard and I'm hurtful, I'm tough and I'm grey
I warn you again, I'm in pain. Stay away!"

When the pack startet howling, a frightening choir,
two voices ascended, one deep and one higher,
singing a song of a king and a stray,
and of fights and of rules which the wrong won't obey,
and of strength beeing weakend by wounds from the fight,
of protection and puppies, of wrong and of right.
Of bold hunters missing in imperative chase
and of risk and of danger, if the wrong granted grace.
But doubting their sentence they thought it'd be best,
if they'd joined the party on their search to crow's nest.

They were just heading west, walking together,
when they heard a noise like you hear from a feather.
And a scratch with a claw made everyone see
the crow, sitting on a dead, fallen tree.
The girl, she approched him, brought forward the case
of the mouse and the hawk, of the prey and the chase.
Where one of them 's starving, if the other won't die.
The crow heared it all, blinking one eye,
Then he ruffled his feathers and he tilted his head.
"But, we all are the same, if we're living or dead."

The girl carried on, for she wanted to care
bout the quarrel between the bee and the bear.
One's one only pleasure, the other one's pain.
The crow he jumped up, then he landed again,
and he stood on one leg, and he looked at the bee.
"All of us, we are one. I am him, she is me."
And what of safty for many endagered by one?
What of the freedom, of pitty? What can be done?
"I cannot say what's exactly to do
But there is no such thing as a `me´ and a `you´.

"They are us, too.", crow insistantly said,
"Like water. And air." The girl nodded her head.
Then she reflected on things she had heared,
for she knew that the forest would await the crows word.
All the eyes and antenna, the claws, paws and wings,
were waiting to hear of wonders and things
were longing to hear the words of crows song,
to finally differ whats right and whats wrong.
"So, what did the crow say?", asked anxiously hawk,
The girl replied smiling : "The crow? He said: `Squaaaaak!´"

Re: your favorite poems

Posted: Mon Dec 21, 2015 7:38 pm
by crow
First prize goes to Pyrra :)
That is not only amazing poetry, but as spiritual as it gets. And all done in a foreign language.

I mean Wow!