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Daniel Michel Send message Joined: 2 Feb 04 Posts: 14925 Credit: 1,378,607 RAC: 6 |
"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. PROUD TO BE TFFE! |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
"Boulder Wilderness" That's true Dan:) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Daniel Michel Send message Joined: 2 Feb 04 Posts: 14925 Credit: 1,378,607 RAC: 6 |
"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) PROUD TO BE TFFE! |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Jim Martin Send message Joined: 21 Jun 03 Posts: 2473 Credit: 646,848 RAC: 0 |
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 |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Jim Martin Send message Joined: 21 Jun 03 Posts: 2473 Credit: 646,848 RAC: 0 |
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 |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Jim Martin Send message Joined: 21 Jun 03 Posts: 2473 Credit: 646,848 RAC: 0 |
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 |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
Jim Martin Send message Joined: 21 Jun 03 Posts: 2473 Credit: 646,848 RAC: 0 |
Beautiful, Julie. jim |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
kittyman Send message Joined: 9 Jul 00 Posts: 51468 Credit: 1,018,363,574 RAC: 1,004 |
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 |
Julie Send message Joined: 28 Oct 09 Posts: 34053 Credit: 18,883,157 RAC: 18 |
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) rOZZ Music Pictures |
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