July, 2013
Hardwired to Connect
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 31, 2013
Hardwired to Connect
human-to-human
we are rooted in earth
human-to-non-human
we live in this space
and the space in between
with a new sense of place
innate self knows…
gifts are life’s birthright
and our intuition flows
interdependence
explores past separation
and tears down defense
from a supportive place
we hear ourself and others
from a compassionate space
we gain newfound respect
tread gently on mother earth
humanity and wisdom connects.
Gael Bage
Bagua
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 30, 2013
Bagua
Bodies float in rivers.
Women are sacrificing their lives
for the Amazon jungles they call home.
Women are mourning
their men and their children.
Oil wells and rainforests,
uneasy bedfellows
in each other’s tricksy embrace,
with profit the sole measure of progress.
Killed in the streets,
guardians of the green roofs;
their crime:
concern for their earth.
There’s always the official line:
terrorist organizations
duped thousands
of these stupid women,
brainless farmers
and other indigenous low life
into opposing progress.
They locals won for now.
We owe them.
Listen!
They protest
their displacement
in the interests of the bottom line.
US Congress is pushing a new model plan
that looks remarkably like the old one.
Rosmarie Epaminondas
Moving house.
POSTED IN essays July 30, 2013
Moving house.
Mandy and Pooh sat together at the bottom of the garden; each thinking their separate thoughts, but somehow feeling connected to each other, happy just to be . They did this for a while, Pooh humming a little tune, and listening to the echoes inside his empty honey pot.
Something – Pooh wasn’t sure what – made him suddenly look up. “Mandy,” he said. “Why are you looking so sad?”
A tear rolled down Mandy’s face and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“It’s nothing Pooh. I’m ok.”
“Oh,” said Pooh, in a troubled kind of way. “That’s a very sad sort of nothing Mandy.”
Mandy’s eyes began to fill. “I’m sorry Pooh; it’s just … just… well I am going away. To another place.”
Pooh licked some honey off his paw. “That could be fun Mandy. When are you coming back?”
“That’s just it, Pooh,” said Mandy sadly. “I’m not coming back. I shall live somewhere else. Far Away.”
“How far is Far Away, Mandy? Will I still be able to see you?”
“Well no Pooh. It would take you ages in a car. Not so long in a plane.”
“Then that’s ok Mandy. I’ll come and visit you. With all our friends.”
Mandy looked sadly at Pooh. “People say that Pooh, but often they never do.”
Pooh sniffed and felt something stir inside his tummy. Perhaps he was hungry. He eyed the bottom of his honey pot but it was still empty. So he decided to think.
“Mandy,” he said. “What did you say you had to do to fill up your honey pot with the most delicious honey that ever existed?”
“Um, I think I said you had you use your imagination, Pooh. Honey never runs out when you use your imagination.”
“That’s right,” said Pooh happily. “How ‘bout if you imagine YOU are a honey pot and fill it with your friends! Then you will always carry them around inside you … and they will never run out!”
Mandy thought about that for a minute. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to look like a big, round honey pot! Then she gave Pooh her biggest and best hug ever. “Oh thank you, dearest Pooh. You are so right. You will always be with me, no matter how far away I go. If I keep a picture of you inside my head and one right next to my heart, we can still talk to each other, anywhere and anytime.”
“Yes,” said Pooh. “No matter how far, Far Away is, I will always manage to find you and you will always find me. Will you keep an extra big honey pot for me … filled with especially yummy honey.”
“Definitely,” said Mandy happily. “The biggest pot you ever did see … big enough for you and all the friends in the world!”
“Where did you say you were going Mandy?”
“To a place I’ve ever only dreamed about. A slice of heaven – right here on earth.”
“Ah!” sighed Pooh. “You must be going to the Bee Hive … “
Amanda Edwards
Cast Down from Your Heaven
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 30, 2013
Cast Down from Your Heaven
I have been cast down
from your heaven
my tongue cut out
No more words do you wish
from this fiery throat
that spilled such warm sugar
into your pinkish ear
Oh, you never kept your promise
to cure my lovesick heart
instead you called on the gods
who have sworn to silence
my words for you
Like Orpheus
my head floats
and begs a kiss
But your lips are for curses
and incrimination alone
I asked only words
and to swim in the same waters
that you swim
to call our friendship
everlasting
But I fell nine days
into liquid fire
as you ravaged
my every thought of you
I’m still burning here
while you sleep
sanguine in the knowledge
that you have
silenced a voice
that spoke your name with fondness.
Frank Crsicenti
Ghetto Glitter
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Ghetto Glitter
.
In the city night daubs neon shimmers
on inky water, in nature night’s silver queen
gifts incandescence to streams and rivers
arc’s above seven seas, clear and serene.
Selene trancends time in the eternal now;
no one man can lift the black velvet cloak
of night, where moonlight mirrors to somehow
gift the truth in reflection. Self spoke
and sifted through cobwebs of chaos to find
demons puffed up with pride and arrogance.
Disguised as beautiful creatures in my mind
their light fingers dipped into life’s dance
and devoured everything. I walk on, alone,
through twilight zone, empty, devoid of pride,
shamed by admission, heart plummets like stone
self-esteem now at it’s lowest ebb-tide.
a lantern glow enters soul on hope’s wings
moccasins tread softly around darkness shown.
Overcome by the maternal wisdom in all things
a soul new-born, prepares to learn and grow.
Gael Bage
Rio Negro
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Rio NegroOn page 87 of the Oxford Atlas
I found the pencil-drawn line of a long forgottenjourney I once planned. The curved arrow
points to the Amazon estuary then draws a circle around Belém,Tocatins, running further across Rio Paro to Ilha dos Macacos,
Antônio Lemos;the line then follows the river upstream:
Paraguara, Santarem, Terra Santa, Ita-piranga, Sao Jose, Manaus, Arcuipelago de
las Anavilhanas, Taupecacu, Moura.Finally, circled, with a small arrow
inside the circle – Rio Negro, Rio Negro.
Tomica Bajsic
Blind Devotion
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
Blind Devotion
Along the river bank one day
I met a man and dog at play
the dog carried in his mouth
a rubber ring
an awkward thing
but that was not the strangest sight
his faithful eyes were milky white
“How can he find the ring?” I asked
And his master softly laughed
“I make sure he knows,” he said
bent down to point his blind dog’s head
toward the way that he would throw
and with tail wagging off he sped
the ring jostled by his side
then tumbled to the ground to hide
at first the dog walked round and round
sniffed and sniffed ‘til it was found
then headed off in joyful glee
you would not know he could not see
back eventually he came
sat back down – “more … more … the same”
every muscle was a quiver
he knew his master would deliver
And I?
I cried inside as I stood there
watching this devoted pair
For love that binds a man with dog
is surely love that comes from God
Amanda Edwards
When The Beloved Speaks
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 29, 2013
When The Beloved Speaks
When The Beloved Speaks
through the fire
in your stopped mind
sift the ashes
the mental lava
spill the eruption out
let it go
now go beyond when/where
your mind stopped
Now it can be taken
the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is nothing to do
just listen…be attentive
live in the moment
live in your heart
breathe more deeply
just breathe
purify your mind on that altar
which is your heart
Then answer the beckoning
of the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is nothing
but the experience of Love
it is nothing
but overwhelming flow
into, through and out
of your heart
its wondrous beneficence
flowing all about you
To you from you
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
who also is the Love
who also is the Lover
what is left
when you know there is no
reality but the One Reality
there is no god but the One God
When you are
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
where are you going now?
no place to go, nothing to do
and no place to hide…just be
finally…Who You are!
flow into and with the Spirit
gather your possessions
return them to whomever
stolen or borrowed
or assimilated from
willingly, unwillingly
it’s not you…they are not yours
Let them go on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
you know it is time to go Home
as at the Ocean’s edge
you know its song
you taste that salty tear
knowing yours is welcome
to mingle in that vastness
is one with that vastness.
You are drawn to that
damp breast, called
Back to The Oneness
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
a breath intoned on the breeze
joins you to the harmonies
of the Hu…in joyful song play
skying toward oneness
once again being called Home
with every whispered nuance
striking the ear drum…as if it were a bell
whose tones are sent
ringing through your body’s bones
Through the temple of your being
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
comes the flame of resurrection
from the ashes of one’s personality
spiraling up toward the Father
toward the Universal Oneness
joining the choruses of that paean
that has been sung through the ages
flung out across the outer vastness
that is not near so vast
As one’s inner being
on the Path of the Heart
When The Beloved Speaks
there is none of self
there is but the nugget
at the center, the nugget
shining there in your heart
and you know now how it can dance
and you know now how to dance
why one dances, when one dances
that all beings dance
that you are a living participant in
“The only dance that there is!”
on the Path of the Heart
Qutbuddin Loren Ruh Smith
Deaf Escape
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 27, 2013
Deaf EscapeWhen I lie on my right side I can only hear the refrigerator,
its gentle hum a dial tone of white noise.
Nestled in that amethyst-colored space
between awake and dark I bivouac.
Behind closed eyes I sort beach glass into mason jars
the tumbled stones providing order,
the colors providing peace.
You are offended by my closed eyes
and perceived unwillingness to be the audience for
your oratory so you pass by.When I lie on my left side I can hear the clock ticking.
I can hear your step and pause for breath.
I ponder the stories locked deep within and shyly
wait to be invited to the dance,
but you do not hear the music.
My great and glowing sadness is not visible enough
to reach you, and in order to hear you I have turned away.
You are offended by my back to the door
so once again you pass by.You tinker, and touch my things.
You cut the tops off flowers, sometimes
I think you will cut my hair.
I must be ever vigilant but eventually I sleep.
You are nowhere to be found.
Tobi Cogswell
Today’s the Day
POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 26, 2013
Today’s the Day
Today’s the day, “Hooray, hooray”
I threw my Past far, far away.
I watched it blow this way and that,
Its day was done, no looking back.
How marvellous now it is to feel,
Light and free and full of zeal.
There’s nothing now I cannot do,
My burden’s gone – off it flew!
No more sorrow, doubt, or fear,
Nor all that guilt I once held ‘dear.’
I emptied all my darkness out,
It tried to fight, it tried to shout,
My shadows got a hellish fright!
I filled the space with healing light.
When I’m tired and feeling low,
It might come back to say hello.
Perhaps I’ll make a cup of tea,
Then say, ‘Away – don’t bother me.’
I do not wish to have you back,
For never do you cut me slack.
You have no love or care for me,
Be gone with you, let me be free.
Today’s the day, “Hooray, Hooray”
I finally threw my Past away!
Amanda Edwards
