Poems
It’s beautiful no doubt, meant to say so when I first read it.
zenagain wrote:Hey Mick, just sitting here and there's a raging storm outside. Listening quietly to Erik Satie Gnossiennes No.1 (Lent) while I'm between things and it's kinda put me in a melancholy mood. That Gibran poem you posted above is lovely. Very thought provoking. Cheers.
Nice one mate, sounds like bliss! was it Allan Watts that said "The sound of rain needs no translation?"
Such a great thread,
"The desire to know your own
soul will end all other desires."
Jalāl al-Dīn Muḥammad Rumi
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
Lest We Forget
We will remember them.
The poem was written by a Canadian Medical Corps doctor, Major John McCrae, who was serving with a Field Artillery Brigade in Ypres. The death of one of his friends in May 1915, buried in the cemetery outside his dressing station, affected him severely and he wrote his poem as a way of expressing his anguish at the loss.
I liked that earlier today Westof. It’s now just dawned on me what day it is.
Nice one!
When the season comes
Rooting if you are turtle
Must be very tough.
Nice to have this forum to share something. Here's one for tomorrow -
RAISE A GLASS
Sitting at his table, with a glass in his hand,
His mind is barely present, mostly lost in foreign lands.
He remembers those who fell for him and those he never knew,
He remembers those who stared him down as he ran them through.
Hero harked and hollered high in earlier times than these,
But now the men who saved our lives succumb to our disease.
Here and now is what it is, we’ve got no time for ancient past,
Our slow men just fall in, behind the furious and the fast.
But if you listen he’ll part wisdom, if you ask he’ll always tell,
So take the time, turn off the tap and draw a bucket from the well.
His message may be simple, but with hope it always is,
His speech is slow and steady, just like the man he is:
“Life is stepping sideways, life is falling down,
You might wash away your sins, but don’t leave me to drown.
Life it is beautiful, life it is to shine,
You might find yourself with love, but don’t leave me behind.
I’m old and grey, raise a glass for those who’ll have no-one to cry.
It was cold and grey, raise a glass for those who had nowhere to die.
But now hear the drum….
For many that served and return to our toast,
We know that trauma, stress and disorder are in the post.
And when war delivers a mind that’s affected,
Lives, upon lives, upon lives are impacted.
Sons and Daughters ….. Fathers and Mothers,
Aunts and Uncles ………. Sisters and Brothers.
Lest we forget the evils of war….
If we’re sending our men, let’s be sure, let’s be sure.”
RAISE A GLASS TO THOSE WHO SERVED, RETURNED OR OTHERWISE.
CHEERS,
DP
dawnperiscope wrote:Nice to have this forum to share something. Here's one for tomorrow -
RAISE A GLASS
Sitting at his table, with a glass in his hand,
His mind is barely present, mostly lost in foreign lands.
He remembers those who fell for him and those he never knew,
He remembers those who stared him down as he ran them through.Hero harked and hollered high in earlier times than these,
But now the men who saved our lives succumb to our disease.
Here and now is what it is, we’ve got no time for ancient past,
Our slow men just fall in, behind the furious and the fast.But if you listen he’ll part wisdom, if you ask he’ll always tell,
So take the time, turn off the tap and draw a bucket from the well.
His message may be simple, but with hope it always is,
His speech is slow and steady, just like the man he is:“Life is stepping sideways, life is falling down,
You might wash away your sins, but don’t leave me to drown.
Life it is beautiful, life it is to shine,
You might find yourself with love, but don’t leave me behind.I’m old and grey, raise a glass for those who’ll have no-one to cry.
It was cold and grey, raise a glass for those who had nowhere to die.But now hear the drum….
For many that served and return to our toast,
We know that trauma, stress and disorder are in the post.
And when war delivers a mind that’s affected,
Lives, upon lives, upon lives are impacted.
Sons and Daughters ….. Fathers and Mothers,
Aunts and Uncles ………. Sisters and Brothers.
Lest we forget the evils of war….
If we’re sending our men, let’s be sure, let’s be sure.”RAISE A GLASS TO THOSE WHO SERVED, RETURNED OR OTHERWISE.
CHEERS,
DP
Brilliant DP. Thanks for sharing that.
Goosebumps reading it.
yep awesome
a lovers lust.
you didn't look at me,
like a passing bus
so strange... I thought I knew you.
wood scent..memories
Complacent desires, hold so thin, yet yield so thick over todays memories,
what cloth she wears, spell bound..I follow.
I like Mary Oliver's writings.
'A Thousand Mornings', a little book of collected works, is a good place to start.
And this poem by John Donne:
No man is an island,
entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent,
a part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
as well as if a promontory were.
as well as if a manor of thy friend’s
or of thine own were.
Any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind;
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee.