Tag Archives: poem

Power Song – Number Two by David Sparenberg

Song that remembers there are tides
Song that remembers there are orphans
Song to the heights of tree, beyond trees to the heights of clouds
Song to mountain summits
Song to the mists and greens and roots of valleys;

Song that names the lonely, that remembers generations forgotten
Song that calls and cries and sends forth greetings to the forlorn and forsaken
to the falling and the fallen;

Song of rainbows and of seasons—of oceans and of seasons
Song first sung among ancestors
Song that holds life precious—Sacred Song
Song of courage and of laughter
Song that cannot be stopped
Song that is mortal but eludes death
Song to be sung from rooftops, in meadows, at cradles and gatherings hereafter;

forest01_400Song of powers once were
Song of powers through lovers come ‘round
Song of crystal, song of water, song of fire, passing on from me to you
Song to be given to children
Song to be taught to outcasts and orphans
Song of avatars, song of warriors, song of flowering children;

Everywhere out over the Earth-song
Everywhere out across the sky
Song that is sun’s liturgy
Song that the changing moon recites
Bardic Song, song of pilgrims and pilgrimages, of passages and faces;

Song that is sung by Buddha—Buddha Song
Song danced to by Christ in the cosmic round dance;
the same song of renewal
the same song of resurrection
Song never departed
Song forever returned
This song that Rumi chants in the electric tavern of ecstasy
This song
from the rose bleeding lips of Juan de la Cruz
This song
from the eternal palms of Saint Francis
This song that I pass to you in passage;

Song of heritage
Song of legacy
Song sung
out over the Earth – song sung
across the sky;

Song for all in need of shelter—nourishment and shelter
Song for all in need of caressing—embraces and caressings
Song for all in need of cleansing and of culture
Song for all in need of kissing—Kiss Song: touch
Song that bestows many blessings
Song never owned by any, belonging to none, open
to all
Song
out over the Earth
Song
across the sky.

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Check David Sparenberg’s NEW BOOK
THE GREEN TROUBADOUR A Source Book of Performance Ecosophy
is online now and you can download for FREE HERE!

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David Sparenberg has also 2 more Books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“Life in the Age of Extinctions volume 2 – Threshold”
Download for FREE HERE!

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Duration by Jan Sand

The crack of dawn
Through which dreams
Leak away is
durato001_400The whip sound
Of necessity
Which drives the day.
You cannot flee
Serendipity that roars
To free the creatures
That scurry out of dust,
Out of rust that may disgust
Simplicity, complicity
With necessity. The pulse
Of impulse cannot be denied
Whether the brain, or the gut
Nudge the fudge of indecision
Is of small concern.
The turn of time stirs what occurs
Into fate that must collate
The crash of trash to decorate
The future with the past.
No need to heed what seed
Might sprout of what turns out.
What is is. The fizz of continuity
Blossoms into perpetuity
To shove away another day
Which dies in bloody sunset
With regret or relief.
One day is brief, a minor thief
Of time to forget.

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Old Time Patterns Petalline by Saloni Kaul

Those petal peels from memory ,
On them is lingering on the dew ;
The texture silken satin smooth
And oh how warm emanates each hue!

How swift straight from antiquity…
To me comes clear each cue
And when it all eventually evaporates
There’s still the residue.

 petta01

 

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All about Eve by Abigail George

All about Eve
(for my parents)

    I’ve been living underground
    like graffiti, the grunge scene,
gravity and volcanic rock for the longest time. I’ve been many things in my life.
Feminist. Romantic. Poet.
poo001_400    Aunt. Independent woman.
Christian. Sister. Daughter.
Ex. Girlfriend. I’ve clothed
myself in veil-and-shroud.

Having the presence of a
child around me has changed all of that. I want to be a
good woman. I want to give and love
and most of all be kind. I don’t want to think that suffering is
noble anymore. I want to put away my loneliness
inside a kind of Pandora’s box.
Along with my solitude. The futility that
I’ve carried around like baggage with me for the

(longest time).

I don’t want to say things like,
‘the longest time’ anymore. I
want to be happy and loyal to
the people who love me. I want
to be loyal to the girl inside my mother, My sister, my aunts, my cousins
In the family way. Far away in America and Swaziland. South Africa.
I’m a nation. I’m a soldier. I’m a

warrior. I’m a servant girl.
I’m a nursemaid. Caregiver. Lover.
Fighter. Daily I take the vows of a nation, of
a Christian-soldier, warrior,
lowly servant girl, nursemaid, caregiver, lover, fighter.
I have the personality of the
sun on my side. The characteristics of
and morality of moonlight.
I can wail against the choices that
I’ve made in my short life or
I can embrace the watershed. The men and women,
the translations of them that I’ve
loved in my short life. If it’s been
tragic-comic-significant-happy,
it’s been that way from start to end.
And once I reach the finish line
I will meditate on the feasts and festivals
that winter has brought me and
I will savour the photographs, the special moments
that summer has brought to me.

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Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

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The lines by Uzeyir Lokman Cayci

The more I approach, the more I move away
The more I move away, the more I co-exist
Constantly
Large lines
Belonging to the infinite one
who brushes lightly against my feelings…
Old lines
Which I color with sorrows
To which I give form with my tears
That I deepen through a whole life
And that I move away from in myself
And which flee from me…
Fine lines
That I mix with
Many recoveries
With which I juggle
Misleading, attractive
Transparent meanings
Significant and contradictory…
With a finality in my heart like tenderness
Sinuous in the way of love
Continuous, decided, alive…
As the lines run in me
They return to me happily
Blue, green and white
Friendly lines…
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French free verse translated into English free verse
by Joneve McCormick

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Those Eyes by Hunter Dasten

Can you peer through those eyes?
The radiance must be blinding.
As I gaze into them I’ve come to understand
what the ancients must have felt,
looking up toward the shimmering night sky.
All the mysteries and wonders of life
are clearly reflected, as is the light.
And even if I’d never be sure
just what chemicals kindle a stars faithful burn.
I would still spend every night
dreaming up poems about your eyes.

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If you were mine by Abigail George

If you were mine
(for my paternal grandparents)

ol01_400_01Perhaps this is how
       my grandparents met. Perhaps, this too,
was their love song.

So, I say your name.
Mikale – but for the life of me you can’t
understand why I’m

reaching out to you like this. Why I
find you interesting (and sensitive).
Your face and hands,

wise, interesting (and sensitive)
inside your leather jacket. In your presence, I’m tongue-tied. Don’t
know what to say.

So, I talk about
everything and nothing at the same time. I think about
the fact that I don’t swim anymore.

I think about the fact
that you’re a man, who lives and builds and breathes and eats
with the desire of a man.

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Abigail George has two books in the Ovi Bookshelves,
“All about my mother” & “Brother Wolf and Sister Wren”
Download them, NOW for FREE HERE!

 life_06_400

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