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Author
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Topic: This Isn't Funny
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NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted April 29, 2008 10:58 PM
  
Peace! O, Naked Peace!Comfort. Ah, yes comfort.
How pleasant is the thought?
To be comforted in treasures
Of a kind and warming hearth
Is to find the golden pleasure
In this vast and teeming earth. Peace. Oh, yes! Peace!
Now just who'd deny their share?
Well, as silly as it sounds,
There are no lines handing out helpings
And so the Peace that we deny
Is the very Peace that we're not making
(Not for the world nor for our neighbors
But for the breath of our own labors). Oh, I know. I know.
We want comfort! We want peace!
We'd be assuaged with Devil's down
Before we heed the sounding clarion!
Oh, sure! Let's all just lay our heads
And dull our hapless senses! There's a veil without discretion,
Circumventing our own thinking,
That keeps Peace out on the border
And repels us from our Comfort!
There's a curtain, dark and drowning
Like the void of inner space,
Weaved by silent will o' the wisps
Paving the path with lies before us. CAUTION! If Peace is the absence of strife...
If Peace is the absence of opposition...
If Peace is the absence of argument...
If Peace is the absence of fighting,
Then Peace is boring. And this strife?
It will not stop.
The opposition?
It long will be.
Argument?
There are plenty to share.
The fighting?
You can only hope it'll be fair. There is an omnipresence, yes.
Peace is all and everywhere.
We use the word, embrace the thought,
But we don't fully know it bare. The veil is worn in what we wear. IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted May 22, 2008 07:43 PM
A Word from My Eg(r)o(w)"A kinder anger?
A gentler despair? Hah! You seek frivolities
Entrenched in misunderstanding! Let me ask you something... How do you awaken
A soul that does not sleep?
Consciousness is oft
A bitter toil already...
And you'd expose a greater labor,
By the thoughts that you've not sown,
And make the heavy leady? You make me wiggle with giggles. In the strength of daylight
Our work is born
And in the depths of midnight,
Sleep. Sleep. When the golden hairs of dawn arise from dreamer's depths,
There you'll find a fiercely burning anger...
An infinite depth of painful despair. Awaken then. Awaken there." IP: Logged |
Xena
unregistered
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posted May 23, 2008 12:45 PM
Beautiful poem on 1st page, HSC. IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted June 01, 2008 11:02 PM
No. 9Say it forth and say it well.
I'd do you much better
When speaking is plain,
For your truth is your truth
And mine is mine
But there yet comes one Greater
Where both of ours nine. The distance between us
Is likely to greet
Many grave things before the sublime,
Though that does not always define
Those many grave things
A subtraction of nine. For that which is, itself, evil
Is thus when it is and not ever before.
No one may be rightly jailed for thinking about such things
Though that thinking will only aid such things to find anchor.
For like the light of God
Which caused our eyes to grow,
And like the word of God
Which built our ears thorough,
So shall the plight of evil -
Billowing in ignorance
Slyly and slow -
Craft its heartless heart,
Anchored in your Mind
And tailoring your Soul. So speak plainly with me, please.
Metaphor and allegory are no match
For words of plain discomfort. IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted June 09, 2008 12:25 AM
If We Only Really KnewStaircase letters, on the edge
Of simple understanding,
Are weakened by the impulse there:
The foot that treads on downward.
Embedded underneath the shoe,
Like chewed gum stuck between the tracking,
Are synonyms much lesser known
That find not what their quest is tracking.
As a simpleton, my place is just.
As a poet, my words are dust.
Break it down a bit.
Let me slip upon the trip I flip
And sack, for all, the gist of it.
The more I simplify the world,
The more is left for me to whirl
And in this cleft I chance no pearl;
Sensationalism is no comfort.
Not to you, nor to me, nor donkey's hoof -
The carrot fails to levy the Soul
As fluid as can the Ego's toll.
When does the Baker's yeast take form?
That's when the essence is reborn!
The toil in Life is oven's warmth!
Go forward carefully, but fear no qualms!
IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted June 09, 2008 12:47 AM
The Ebb of FlowThree-point-four repeating
Is the image of a Presence.
Stack upon stack it cracks
And there lies its process, unlimited.
Matter...
It is only thing,
But it is not the thing.
What is seen by our senses
Is image, frequency.
And to this there is much further
Which may be extracted.
For what exists of our senses is proven
To permit the experience of a certain range of sensation.
There are higher and lower pitches of sound
And of smell
And of taste
And of touch
And of sight.
What a world of wonder!
What a world of surprise!
The spider climbs an invisible wall!
The spider is a wall!
And as with every stroke of amusement,
The excitement lulls and levels out.
But there remains the truth of it.
But there remains its spooling drift:
The rip current tides of alchemical thought.
IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted June 09, 2008 11:35 AM
Syntax Error PandemoniumFingers pointed at the hands of an air,
There.
The silver shine of quilted shapes
Seems odd to those equipped with drapes
That fall upon the objects of their seeing.
Veiled, in a sense, it is.
The meaning, though, is lost if thought of
As simply an illusion.
For what is seen seems solidly to fail
Within the inactive imagination.
Consider this: the number "pi"
And its relationship to the circumference.
A circle's diameter, measuring 1,
Will fit upon that circle's path exactly
Three-point-one-four endless times.
What does this say to us?
What language does it speak?
One thing is most certainly true.
The measurement of circumference
In sense-perception requires only a certain extent.
Our eyes have no "need" to measure
On in infinitely small degrees.
That does not, however, categorize
The following information as "useless".
The drapes of circles we see with our eyes
and veiled, in a sense, are they.
And just as the curtains of a window
May be handled and set aside,
To let in the golden light of sun,
So may the veils of matter be lifted
To let forth the shining worlds of Spirit.
Though the perfect circle expresses
That its shape exists, fundamentally,
In relation to a principle of infinity -
It's shape is just a circle
To our common sense-perception.
But what does this say to us
That hear with our eyes,
See with our ears,
Touch with our tongues,
Taste with our hands
And smell with our hearts?
To those Spiritually involved
Is resolved
The Ouroboros,
Gateway to our Heaven. IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted June 09, 2008 11:57 AM
Automatic Push-ButtonCaging...senseless...a Heart of shapes resides!
Storming, raging,
Pulsating...
The power of the sun is no help
to the blindness of a hardened heart.
Listen! Close in!
There is a sullen whisper where
The creeks of human souls do drink!
Do not push away that matter now
That you, YOURSELF, corrupted.
The founding of a Principle
So high - and fallen from Higher still -
Is that which would be used
Against itself in error's theory.
Eros!
You are a dying darkness
And a rising shining!
I cannot birth the flames with coal!
No more!
The fire's shape, a healthy foal,
Is strengthening in power!
Ride forward!
Step proudly into New-Age feeling,
Not as a Mind that follows, there,
The thinking of some others' cares,
But as a strength of Conscious Soul!
A feeling-body within your prose
Exults in the finding of itself
And its understanding!
Step by Step,
We may direct.
We may direct it,
Step by Step. IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted October 12, 2008 01:27 PM
An Autumn DreamHere I am still,
Just wondering about wondering.
Here I am still,
Just working while my soul sits comfortably. Where I am is where I am.
And where are you?
You read but you're not here.
You could be though, if only.
If only I opened the gates of self,
If only I were ready for that;
If only you opened the gates there too.
If only... But where I stand, my soul just sits
And hopes...
My feelings sometimes spring and run
Becoming difficult to steer...
It's ok, though.
Sometimes taking control means letting go. Let go and let the pangs of prudence pierce with blue;
The ice-water tenses.
Let go and let the anger course through arteries and veins;
The fire-blood cleanses.
Let go and let the sluggish phlegm weigh down the bones;
The earthy ground condenses.
And all around the wind blows out and in and out;
The air flows with pretenses. Or are they simply that?
Beyond Imaginations, some things
Steer the course invisibly.
As flightless birds,
The Penguins swim
And so do Thoughts, organically. Here I am still,
Just wondering about wondering,
As if one day my soul will stand
And fly as it does nightly.
IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted October 12, 2008 10:52 PM
The Ironic ForgeWhat? Are you serious?
This is ridiculous.
Are you seriously mad?!?!
What the F#$%?!?! You can't be mad.
It's mad that you're mad.
You're seriously mad?
I can't believe this! Ok, now I'm mad.
You were mad, but guess what?
Now I'M MAD!!!
What are you? A fascist?!?!
Do you only consider a friend
If they think the same way you do?
Sounds like Mussolini to me... You are incredible...
And I mean unbelievable!!!
I don't need this.
I don't need you.
This is the exit door. This is kind of funny, actually.
All I can do is laugh... IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted November 08, 2009 12:34 PM
The whispers of Wisdom elude the Mind's wedge and soar into the cushioned heart.
Her calling's sweet water is flowing for the Glory of her Groom to rise and take part.
The Eucharist, found in as fertile a ground as that from which Sequoias sprout,
Is much taller a tree the world has never seen for the Holy Ghosts sing it and shout!IP: Logged |
T
Knowflake Posts: 3120
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted November 08, 2009 01:34 PM
Very pretty NosiS.IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted November 09, 2009 12:37 AM
Thanks.  IP: Logged |
NosiS
Moderator Posts: 149
From:
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted January 13, 2011 11:28 AM
Winter's WarmthMalicious is the morning air.
It bites me on my wake.
I feel too cold my hearts' despairs
And both concurrence make. Suspicion lifts this frigid pair
To the warmth of their delusions.
It circulates the blood for one while
The other feasts on breadless crumbs. Auspicious is the Arbiter!
I find Him in my I!
If I can See my hearts' despair,
Then life can Live thereby! IP: Logged |
Randall
Webmaster Posts: 5060
From: The Goober Galaxy
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted January 13, 2011 12:23 PM
Very fitting poem for 49 states having a taste of snow. Brrrr.------------------
"Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon or not at all." Harriet Van Horne IP: Logged |
SunChild
Moderator Posts: 1724
From: Melbourne. Victoria. Australia
Registered: Apr 2009
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posted January 13, 2011 04:48 PM
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“It’s an interesting thing. Seeing Kuan Yin relating to a flower so intently. She's not just looking at it; she's interacting with it…I’m seeing how the act of relating to a flower appears to be so simple. Yet, it takes a tremendous amount of courage to make such a “simple” act important. Now, the lotus is floating away.” IP: Logged | |
Lindaland
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