Archive for December, 2006

Sublimation

One of My Cryptic Poems…It’s meaning is up to you, it certainly meant something to me. Happy New Year, Friends, Romancers, Bloggers.

 

 

Slow the time I’m with you

Cut the head

Of the serpent of the moon

Lonely heart

Needs more than a

Touch

Decipher the riddle of fakes

Close your eyes for your

Sakes

Then the

Portals may

Open.

 

Sublimation

Your salvation

Sublimation

Build

Don’t destroy.

 

The kinds that I

Seek

And fall

Sidhe of light

See your

Soul

What token

Of truth

You’ll send

Beginning

Is in the

End

Beginning

Is in the

End.

To a Fellow Poet

You see deeply

More than others who

Go through the surface of things

Savoring

Feeling

Suffering

Hurting

Nonetheless as do we

We just want to

Freeze

The moment in time

In words that are not only words

To touch

Souls

Beyond our

Lifetimes

Who would

Revive us

When they read our pen

Names

We etch now

Our gratitude

Our minds’ pages

Onto

The Page

End of part One.

 

Your mind is

Like a micro knife

Peeling the layers

Of meaning

Until the meaning

And the mind

Layered and shined

Blind the obscurer

And let

The masses be

Powerful

And have

Their destiny

Divined

End of part Two.

 

You are a

 Person of few

Words

For life is

Short

That it

Can only be fully de-scribed  by

Pure verses

Distillation of

Experience

Riddles whose answers are

Formed

In the libraries

Of your thoughts

Books we

Borrow

And never return

Ourselves

Changed into

Poetry by

Your

Poetry

End of part Three

And the beginning of

Our kinship

Philosopher-scribe

Enthroned

Onto the Page

Whispered to

Life

In future

Age.

Influences in Poetry

I take this opportunity to cite my poetic influences to whom I credit some of the causes of the upliftment of men above their animal natures.  Life is poetry and poetry is life, thus, to be a poet is one of the ways to be truly alive.

 

I admired Stan Rice for his cryptic lines of jarring, gory imagery such that I left rhyming for his prose.  I wrote cryptic poetry for my own consumption, but I emulate Gibran Kahlil Gibran’s directness and childlikeness of terminology in public versification. Sometimes I take after E. E. Cumming’s shaping of written words although I would not sacrifice spontaneity  so much for that.  As for depth of meaning I am a disciple of the likes of Robert Frost, Thomas Hardy, Robert Blake, again Gibran, the anonymous author of Desiderata, Emily Dickinson, Confucius, and Shakespeare.

 

Life itself makes us poets. We can only give what is given to us. Peace.

Far and Gone

When I’m far

When the person you

Knew in me

Is gone

Don’t be sad

Life’s full of surprises

All we need to do is

Wait

Time has no effect

To those who

Love

Themselves

Filling themselves with

Love and who

Love others in turn

Don’t you feel it

Life loves you

That’s why you

And I

Are here

Having the luxury to

Wait

For the things

That are far

And gone

For now

For now.