"Boulder Wilderness"

looking for life in the boulder wilderness
nothing to see but rocks and trees
nothing in sight of human life
as if this is not the place to be
whatever animal life is living
is hidden below where eyes can't see
can't get past my magnifying glass
when the moss looks like a tree
when a rock looks like a boulder
seen from space it's a land so free
but down below the truth is known
where rocks are boulders
and moss are trees

(2012 db michel)

I've seen some wonderful poems here lately...And Julie...It is the best thing to do...When peace in your mind is hard to find...A poem will bring out the truth.

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PROUD TO BE TFFE!

"Boulder Wilderness"

looking for life in the boulder wilderness
nothing to see but rocks and trees
nothing in sight of human life
as if this is not the place to be
whatever animal life is living
is hidden below where eyes can't see
can't get past my magnifying glass
when the moss looks like a tree
when a rock looks like a boulder
seen from space it's a land so free
but down below the truth is known
where rocks are boulders
and moss are trees

(2012 db michel)

I've seen some wonderful poems here lately...And Julie...It is the best thing to do...When peace in your mind is hard to find...A poem will bring out the truth.

That's true Dan:)

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"For You Too"

compassion
is forgotten
when you cannot
feel your pain
spend forever
in the middle
watch your soul
go down the drain
in the meantime
it's the worst time
and we both
know it's true
for me
and for you too

meditation
is redundant
when you're thinking
all the time
take a coffee
have a respite
hold your own
as you unwind
it's the last time
it's the first time
and we both
know it's true
for me
and for you too

hanging on
to some misbegotten yesterday
a dream that fit the need
never quite got up to speed
hanging on
to a sleepy revelation
someone who needed room
and there was an empty room

have a couple
have a dozen
seems we never
get our fill
plan forever
then forever
isn't quite
the dizzy thrill
it's the real thing
it's a daydream
and we both
know it's true
for me
and for you too

(2012 db michel)

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PROUD TO BE TFFE!

After hours


Old John walked his merry walk
Underneath a star-bright sky
Clouded by dangerous angry thoughts
No one dared to ask him why

He was alone this particular night
Stumbling over fence and lawn
His dreary thoughts on agony and pain
When he'll wake up the comin morn'

There was a time when he was happy
When he drank wine, or beer with foam
To his delight he'd fill his tummy
And merrily made his way back home

This was not a merry walk though
Nor beer, nor wine could make him whole
This was loneliness of a kind
He missed his love, his heart, his soul

He heard a whistle and turned around
And there he stood, the local priest
With glee upon his face so bright
He promised John his needed feast

The old priest took him to the hidden chambers
Out of sight behind chapel and church
Here he brewed what none shall argue
God's own drinks which stilled John's thirst.

John and the priest spent 3 full moons
Till they found a drink, so holy divine
That John redeemed his long-lost soul
And he brought it back to his bar in kind

It took him a full day of walking
All the way drunkenly drinking, unashamed
So when he delivered his holy drink
Johhny Walker it was named


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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Life goes on


Sometimes, you want to give up,
when everything goes wrong.
But learn from your mistakes,
because life goes on.

Just try once more,
you don't have to be sad.
Because the second time,
won't be too bad.

Maybe you have lost,
but once you have won.
Just keep on going,
remember, life goes on.


Julie Detavernier(2012)

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Noon Thaw


The morning air delivered its letters with stamps that glowed.
The snow shone and all burdens lightened--a kilo weighed just 700
grams.

The sun was high over the ice hovering on the spot both warm and cold.
The wind came out gently as if it were pushing a pram.

Families came out, they saw open sky for the first time in ages.
We found ourselves in the first chapter of a very gripping story.

The sunshine stuck to all the fur caps like pollen on bees
and the sunshine stuck to the name WINTER and stayed there till winter
was over.

A still life of logs on the snow made me thoughtful. I asked them:
"Are you coming along to my childhood?" They answered "Yes."

In among the copses there was a murmuring of words in a new language:
the vowels were blue sky and the consonants were black twigs and the
speech was soft over the snow.

But the jet plane curtsying in its skirts of noise
made the silence on earth even stronger.


by Tomas Tranströmer
from "The Great Enigma"
"New Collected Poems"
Translated from the Swedish by Robin Fulton

*

jm

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Time


I was the only girl,
the only one
you loved.
You loved me
till the end of time.

But when the future
tells us,
it's time to say
"goodbye"
Love doesn't matter anymore.
It is just a matter of time...


Julie Detavernier(2012)

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Good parts


So now I'm lost in
shallow breathing.
Wondering where
it all went

So I retrace my step,
and figure out,
all my good parts
are tied to you.

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I am a river
I don't know where to go
Sometimes I take a new way
But most of the times I stay
Others decide my future
With some of my help


Julie Detavernier(2012)

POET's day today:)

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Dream sequence #1


An orange sky,
above a deep blue sea
is set on fire, to be
washed away
by a beautiful nightfall.

A warm beach, with a fresh cough
of a sparkling cool breeze
which makes the palmtrees dancing
on a soft and tender symphony.

The sky, overwhelmed by a smiling moon,
making diamonds in the sea
where you so sweetly tell
that you will always love me


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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Morning Birds


I waken the car
whose windshield is coated with pollen.
I put on my sunglasses.
The birdsong darkens.

Meanwhile another man buys a paper
at the railway station
close to a large goods wagon.,
which is all red with rust
and stands flickering in the sun.

No blank space anywhere here.

straight through the spring warmth a cold corridor
where someone comes running
and tells how up at the head office
they slandered him.

Through a back door in the landscape
comes the magpie
black and white.
And the blackbird darting to and fro
till eveything becomes a charcoal drawing,
except the white clothes on the washingline:
a Palestrina chorus.

No blank space anywhere here.

Fantastic to feel how my poem grows
while I myself shrink.
It grows, it takes my place.
It pushes me side.
It throws me out of the nest.
The poem is ready.


by Tomas Tranströmer
from "The Great Inigma"

*

jm

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Take me home


Take me home
to the closest of your dreams
to the nearest I can get
towards your soul

Take me home
to the tinkling of your eyes
to the words hidden inside them
so deep

'cause when I recall those days
I want to know them
I want to feel them

When I recall those days
I want to see them
I want to breathe them

'cause when I recall those days

I want to be with you again.


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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Two worlds


You see the world through your eyes
I see the world through mine
I think my world is pretty good
but is yours also fine?

Are these two worlds different
or are they all the same?
It isn't easy to describe a world
or to give it the right name.

Deep inside I wonder
if this world would still look fine
if I saw it through your eyes,
and you saw it through mine.


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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Am not sure if this was submitted, earlier, but will take a chance . . .


Beauty Sought


Is beauty found in crystal spheres --
or n'sunlight glints off children's tears?

Is beauty found in harmonies --
or n'sorrows' perspicuities?

Is beauty found in landscapes, green --
or n'obscured minds, but dimly seen?

Is beauty found in waterfall --
or n'lonesome souls, who cannot call?

Who want to love, with others, cry --
who want to live, before they die.

They know not how to break their bonds
for which they did not ever ask.

Kaleidoscopes of sights and sounds
confine their soul --

their beauty fast.

* * *

j. r. martin
31 March 2009

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Gods gift to men


With the everlasting and undying
love
of angels, God grants us his
mercy
Always to be remembered of His
neverending love for all that
lives
For a love so great that it
never ceases
To love all there is through his
loving heralds
That is Gods gift to men all their
lives
all the time
Each day we are remembered of
Gods
loving nature, by the gentle voice of
angels whispering in our ears
Every moment the embrace of their
loving wings brings us the memory
of heaven for all to be
From here to eternity
there are witty angels
making us laugh and cry
as the heavenly creatures that we are


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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Beautiful, Julie.

jim

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Thank you Jim:)

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Autumn Tribute


In Autumn, the leaves tend to stray.
Taken and carried away by the wind,
that accompanied the first season rain.

People in the streets already
welcome their parade
by wearing season coloured clothing
to fend off those shades of grey.

Still I would like to go where
those leaves now lay.
I rather enjoy their colours,
than I choose to feel grey.

Ever since one time I heard the wind whisper
while I immersed in their play:

"When nature sheds her skin,
a new beginning is on its way."

It simply made me wonder
but maybe I got too carried away.


Julie Detavernier(2012)

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I seem to stumble, falter, fall......
When I choose words to address you all.
Words belie me, but they are my fate.
And sometimes I post them and sit and wait.

To see what responses my words might bring.
Someone might cough, someone might sing
a kindred song.

Maybe tomorrow.

I link songs 'till my heart's content and knowing
that my day's well spent I slide to sleep with
the ever present kitties.

They are not a toy or poem in jest.
The kitties luv me with all their best.
Their is nothing like my kitty love.

So, you laugh at the jester once again.\
Who has been so bold as to pick up his pen.

And for one moment, reveal. The truth, as only he knows it.

The majik is mine to show you at any time.
You only have to ask.

Or, it shall remain shackled forever.

---

"Freedom is just Chaos, with better lighting." Alan Dean Foster

A passion


A passion may inspire the
tiresome to resign.

Bathing them in a fountain
where their spirits dwell.

It is not to look for what to believe.
Just believe all will be well.

To look within, when others will
look outside for truth.

To cast off those words politely,
while you hear them say:

"I conclude your feeding a dying fire."

Just allow them to look inside.
Since doubt entertains the truth,
but only for a while...

A passion so formless.
Ageless and without judgement.
An expression of the heart.
Co-creating with senses as humble servants.

Once understood, every wish will be granted.

But only if the seed of unconditional love has germinated.


Julie Detavernier (2012)

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