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poetry bits...add your flavor... come on, participate nb.

Lady_AlisonLady_Alison Veteran
edited February 2012 in Arts & Writings
Loneliness dancing in a crowded room, remembering how I felt safe with you.

I wish I wasn't always so afraid, I wish I wasn't always wrong.

But you needed to feel right and I made it all my fault. It's always all my fault.

Why didn't you ever consider that maybe you were wrong. You were wrong. Wrong!

Now I'm gone. Dancing in a crowded room, turning slowly remembering how safe I felt with you.

For my NB broken hearted friends.

Comments

  • Nice. Reminded me of this song:



    Disclaimer: Don't listen if you are in a breakup or you will almost literally break up.


    Lotsa metta,
    Sabre
  • awww, that reminds me of a relationship or two for sure. Okay I will add something I wrote a while ago, a somewhat different feeling to it however!

    This room is hostile and malignant to all.
    To tread inside would be senseless
    As a deadly serpent plots to bind.
    The stench is rancid, rampant, and noxious inside.

    The wiring here is faulty,
    And the atmosphere damp,
    A somewhat defective door is boarded shut,
    Repelling the foreign exterior beyond.

    Despair is written all over these walls,
    The letters seep and infest down to the core.
    It’s lunacy to abide in this room,
    But it’s somewhat familiar and warm.

    I am isolated here,
    Forsaken at my own will,
    My thoughts are mine and mine only
    As nobody can enter this room.

    Lots of things take place in here,
    But that is where they stay.
    They happen from day to day,
    But maybe at some point, they will try to escape.
  • We are so desperate to get out, to see
    that we will bur this bright passing bare: not-self,
    not glass, just blur and glare. We will bleed cold clay
    at which to stare, discern fools who label fools

    the wrong kind of fools, justify our bile
    by regurgitating ancient gruel. Pack mules,
    burden borne to birth of fruit tree.
    Murder no-jewel on the horns of a hare.

    Or maybe one of these unhoneyed clerics is Maitreya,
    while it's my tangled sight that spies a hovering hawk's eye spiral
    to intwine and strangle a bright line of thought
    like an Indian rope trick, or a toothless cavity.

    (Pace yourself.
    One must not be left to fall
    When the root is unwound. There is no wound
    like gravity.)

    But anyway, I think Anubis came to me
    recently in dream,
    for once I was a Priestess of Egypt,
    sculptor of serpentine sand,

    while sloughed I am the white ghost of the prairie
    and my organs float in soapskin.
    We have put out our eyes,
    and stopped up our nostrils

    so that we may bear the future. We will sing
    happy birthday Mr President
    then cut out our tongues for you.
    As it should be. Every vain deed

    to gentle the pearl seed in our heart, which,
    though old, fat, and dozy,
    has been reading the whirl of a carousel
    for miles, by a wax dragon's negated flame.

    Come now, it smiles to the light
    I have died more times than a cat -
    what shape now can hold me?

    They say, these sandy lips,

    they say that there is a fire upon the deep
    which will melt the desert into glass -
    our similes will flee like water -
    and sometimes they say

    carpe dieme. Dive into the flame. And
    that if I read the lotus sutra again,
    it may have changed. I own
    that they are all friends, not strange.

    And it may be time to believe them.
  • That's good Tom and sabre.

    Thank the universe for broken hearts, source of creative inspiration.
  • That's good Tom and sabre.

    Thank the universe for broken hearts, source of creative inspiration.
    And also the source of many many crappy pop music singles. :p
  • LOVE
    By Bhante Wimala

    When your mind becomes motionless
    and the brilliant eyes of the peaceful mind
    take a straight look down into the depth of
    your heart
    you will see the life-force pulsating and
    thriving
    in the warmth of pure love.
    As you experience this pure love
    what we all call "heart"
    beams of light will begin to radiate from
    the center of it
    for heaven is there in eternity.
    If you can release this radiance of love
    and allow it to flow through you,
    your heart will become light.
    The spirit will get liberated into the air
    and then, from a place of inner stillness
    you will know what it would be like
    to be an eagle and soar in the evening
    skies.
  • WITHIN YOU WITHOUT YOU
    Lyrics; George Harrison, 1967

    We were talking - about the space between us all
    And the people - who hide themselves
    behind a wall of illusion
    Never glimpse the truth - then it's far too
    late - when they pass away.
    We were talking - about the love we all
    could share - when we find it
    To try our best to hold it there - with our
    love
    With our love - we could save the world - if
    they only knew.
    Try to realise it's all within yourself no-one
    else can make you change
    And to see you're really only very small,
    And life flows on within you and without
    you.
    We were talking - about the love that's gone
    so cold and the people,
    Who gain the world and lose their soul -
    they don't know - they can't see - are you
    one of them?
    When you've seen beyond yourself - then
    you may find, peace of mind is waiting
    there -
    And the time will come when you see we're all one, and life flows on within you and
    without you.
  • Niguma

    You don't have to do anything with your
    mind, just let it naturally rest in it's essential nature.

    Your own mind, unagitated, is reality.
    Meditate on this without distraction.

    Know the Truth beyond all opposites.
    Thoughts are like bubbles that form and
    dissolve in clear water.

    Thoughts are not distinct from the absolute Reality, so relax, there is no need to be critical.

    Whatever arises, whatever occurs,
    simply don't cling to it, but immediately let
    it go.

    What you see, hear, and touch are your
    own mind.

    There is nothing but mind. Mind transcends birth and death.

    The essence of mind is pure Consciousness that never leaves reality,
    even though it experiences the things of
    the senses.

    In the equanimity of the Absolute, there is
    nothing to renounce or attain. :)
  • Out

    I can feel wild spring wind
    trail its hand along the wall.
    Let me in, it whispers,
    or come out.
  • JeffreyJeffrey Veteran
    Memories recall the glow of the embers as dazzling
    Yet forgot the desire soothed
    Long tongues licking in darkness
    Brave sparks going on their voyage
  • Love After Love by Derek Walcott.

    The time will come
    when, with elation
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror
    and each will smile at the other's welcome,

    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored
    for another, who knows you by heart.
    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,
    peel your own image from the mirror.
    Sit. Feast on your life.
  • CinorjerCinorjer Veteran
    Manticore

    A manticore knocked on my door today
    and said, "Please, kind Sir, have you seen my dream?"

    "It wandered off in the forest of past memories
    and fell over the cliffs of regret."
    "I've tracked it this far, but lost its scent
    at the crossroads of confusion."

    "I am familiar with many dreams," I told him.
    "Perhaps if you could describe it?"

    "Oh, it's just a small dream," the Manticore replied,
    "not grand at all."
    "It's a dream of dark, dangerous paths
    and moonless nights
    and the smell of blood."

    "I have no truck with dreams such as that,"
    I told the Manticore, and shut the door.

    by me, G Costlow

  • genkakugenkaku Northampton, Mass. U.S.A. Veteran
    Not sure if it's relevant, but here is an anonymous contribution to the military newspaper Stars and Stripes ... a lot of years ago:

    The baby is
    As soft and sweet
    As if she were
    Legitimate.
  • A Dream Within A Dream

    Take this kiss upon the brow!
    And, in parting from you now,
    Thus much let me avow-
    You are not wrong, who deem
    That my days have been a dream;
    Yet if hope has flown away
    In a night, or in a day,
    In a vision, or in none,
    Is it therefore the less gone?
    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.

    I stand amid the roar
    Of a surf-tormented shore,
    And I hold within my hand
    Grains of the golden sand-
    How few! yet how they creep
    Through my fingers to the deep,
    While I weep- while I weep!
    O God! can I not grasp
    Them with a tighter clasp?
    O God! can I not save
    One from the pitiless wave?
    Is all that we see or seem
    But a dream within a dream?

    Edgar Allan Poe
  • DavidDavid A human residing in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. Ancestral territory of the Erie, Haudenosaunee, Huron-Wendat, Mississauga and Neutral First Nations Veteran
    Row, row, row the boat;
    Gently down the stream.
    Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily.
    Life is but a dream.
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