Pre natal Poetry ?

[Trojina]

Maybe this poem could be of comfort to parents whose children have disappointed them? It seems to say (a) it's not your fault, and (b) it's supposed to turn out like that.

Yes, good point. In the first poem by Sharon Olds I heard a kind of ruthlessness, Life that will live itself, life forcing itself through where it can as it says of 'life's longing for itself' here.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,

Like sometimes you see plants, weeds or flowers growing in the weirdest places, in walls or pavement cracks and I always get the sense of the force and sheer determination of life to live itself regardless.
Olds knows her parents are not right for one another but she wants to Live !

In the process of writing my poem I had the sense that I was on my way because I was regardless of what my parents thought. Nothing to do with what any of us want, life is going live itself !

 

[Liselle]

here's mine so far, still playing with it

What war was your father in?

Is he the stoic, silent, do-your-duty type of man? Or are you more saying that as children that's how we see our parents, as mythical, all-powerful beings and not as actual people?

 

[Trojina]

What war was your father in?

Is he the stoic, silent, do-your-duty type of man? Or are you more saying that as children that's how we see our parents, as mythical, all-powerful beings and not as actual people?

I was saying both really, yes as babies parents are massive great gods to us....whoever they really are. I wouldn't say he was silent but men had very defined roles as bread winners then, ...and it must often have been quite hard. No much room to show your sensitive side. Things are different now I think.

I was referring to the second world war. I'm sketchy about the history, my siblings know more but he was forcibly taken from his home in the Ukraine to fight for the Germans against Russians and I think Ukrainians got caught up fighting for the Germans but it all got a bit confused. My father was in Italian prisoner of war camp, sent to England...in England was allowed to stay because if sent home he'd be in trouble with the authorities at that time as he'd been a Ukrainian nationalist and it was time of Soviet Union. So in England he was given a choice of staying here or going to Canada. He might have gone to Canada but he got my mum pregnant with my brother....and sister ,,,,then me

However men such as him had seen terrible things and it was not easy I think for them to settle into domestic life in Britain. Hence I rediscover him in the poem as something of a mystery coming from beyond our domestic life.

 

[Liselle]

Yes, good point. In the first poem by Sharon Olds I heard a kind of ruthlessness,

[...]

Olds knows her parents are not right for one another but she wants to Live !

Yes, ruthless is a good word for it...it paints a rather uncharitable picture of babies (their souls) as selfish things, doesn't it? With her banging them together in sort of demonic glee, already planning how she'll benefit? There is the line, "you are going to do bad things to children"...we could presume one of the children is her, so she suffered too, but it does sound as if most of the destruction was to the parents' lives, and she doesn't care.

Unless...it's more post-facto bravado, a way to create some power for herself? Like, "SEE, you evil things? I'm fine now! And moreover, this was all my idea in the first place! You didn't do it to ME, I did it to YOU!"

Poems are hard!

Another twist might be that it's ALL just the intertwinings of fate, and none of the individuals have much to do with it...as you said, we can get the concept of karma but not have any idea how it works.

P.S. Last night I read an old thread...are you still having font/paragraph trouble? I see you're using different fonts, should we too? I thought the thread ended on an "it's fixed now, sort of" note, but is it?

 

[Liselle]

...he was forcibly taken from his home in the Ukraine...was in Italian prisoner of war camp...

We see WWII as this great righteous victory, and it was, but of course it had horrible effects on peoples' lives, just like any war.

Hence I rediscover him in the poem as something of a mystery coming from beyond our domestic life.

You did a good job of conveying that.

And this part:

"Don’t break the link in that chain lest the man slip through
The mesh, the net, careful we might see him
For who he is."

He put armor or a net around himself, to protect himself maybe as much as you? Keep the sad stuff tucked away, out of sight and out of mind...is that what you meant?

 

[Liselle]

"Young Yin: Oh no, not again, dear God. Why did You make ignorance such bliss?"

My tongue-in-cheek wish for human evolution is that the human sex drive gets over itself...

Nice poem...I think both men and women would say that's just like the other...

 

[Trojina]

Yes, ruthless is a good word for it...it paints a rather uncharitable picture of babies (their souls) as selfish things, doesn't it? With her banging them together in sort of demonic glee, already planning how she'll benefit? There is the line, "you are going to do bad things to children"...we could presume one of the children is her, so she suffered too, but it does sound as if most of the destruction was to the parents' lives, and she doesn't care.

Unless...it's more post-facto bravado, a way to create some power for herself? Like, "SEE, you evil things? I'm fine now! And moreover, this was all my idea in the first place! You didn't do it to ME, I did it to YOU!"

Poems are hard!

Another twist might be that it's ALL just the intertwinings of fate, and none of the individuals have much to do with it...as you said, we can get the concept of karma but not have any idea how it works.

P.S. Last night I read an old thread...are you still having font/paragraph trouble? I see you're using different fonts, should we too? I thought the thread ended on an "it's fixed now, sort of" note, but is it?

Yes the font thing is fixed now...I'm just using different fonts for poems because I feel like it.

Re Old's poem, or any poem, she holds her own meaning and we bring what we bring to it when we read it. I didn't see it that she was vengeful...but that she wanted to live WHATEVER WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. We're all 'riders on the storm' aren't we....we take our chances in getting born.

But I see the beauty of poetry is that is doesn't have to mean one thing, it can mean many things....it's not a factual piece of writing is it. It leaves you with questions and it leaves you with lots of ways of understanding it. I like that it gives us the freedom to tell our inner story, as we feel it, without having to justify it to ourselves as making 'sense' ? Does that make sense ?

He put armor or a net around himself, to protect himself maybe as much as you? Keep the sad stuff tucked away, out of sight and out of mind...is that what you meant?

Yes, exactly.



Now Lisa can we have a little poem from you

Please

Pretty Please


just how you feel it
no need to be good at poems

 

[Trojina]

I challenge anyone to write a pre birth limerick




There was a young lady from Croydon
Who.......

 

[blue_angel]

As some of you begin reading my post, you might think "MAN, blue_angel fell off her rocker. I assure you I didn't. While I am in this state, I would like to say,

Trojan-I love you, you have such a great way of bringing the light to reality, and bringing a laugh when its needed. Bruce- BIG more wonderful to me than words can describe. A little of this and a little of that iams girl- I wrote you a very thought out reply, however it was on my phone and when I scrolled down I pressed the wrong button and lost the entire message. Thank you, I will write again soon. Anemos- you are kind,
caring, and enlightening. Lisa- its a work in
progress...

I apologize ahead of time for the
length of my poem. It just started flowing right
out of me, at times I had to take a break, just
for it to flow again. I am afraid of affecting
others, so this may be too heavy for some,
while it has been healing for me.

Dear child, so young, so pure, so delicate
Have you ever seen such a beautiful girl?

Deep within is an extraordinary love,
almost extinguished

Dear child, so young, so bright
Please tell me, who diminished your light?
For I, have never seen, such a beautiful girl

Could it be?
Meant to be?
You and me?

No, it does not seem right,
You are so young

But in the still of the night,
You sure did, put up a good fight

A fight, to keep your light burning bright.

I guess it will be you, to help me arrive.

Dear confused and lost boy, just barely a man
You see that beautiful girl?
You will take her tonight

But, do not hold on too tight
For at the right time
we will be safe, from your sight

Dear beautiful girl
I know life has taken its toll
But soon you will be filled, with a soul

I know not how, I know not why
just hold on tight
In the dark of this night

No, this is not the norm
but together
We're going to weather this storm

Dear beautiful young woman
did you know your fist
could cause such a heavy mist

Didn't you know that tone
Could turn a heart to stone

Must you use those horrid words
Can't we fast forward

I guess now it is I, that must hold on tight
And fight through the night

Dear beautiful woman
I'm sorry for all you feel
I wish I could've stopped, all who sealed
That deal

And I know that we will grieve
But I'm sorry I must leave
We must wipe our tears upon our sleeve

For I must strive, for my will
To survive

Dear beautiful old woman
will you let me show you
Its not so bad to feel

Did you know, we can create good
That's better than the bad
Let me show you, how I learned to heal

Dear beautiful old woman
Will you take my hand
Please, its okay, you can stand

We just might have a second chance
To dance

Dear beautiful old woman
through all of the wrath
You know what brought me back to the path?

Love, it was love, that caused me to rise above
Like a dove in-flight, we will travel with the light

Its the dawn of a new day
everything will be okay
For there's no longer need
for us to pay

Dear beautiful old woman
Do you remember that hot September night
Did you know the soul that grew
Had especially chosen you

Dear, beautiful, still delicate, old woman...
Deep within, is an extraordinary love, that's lost

I do not know if I can get back your light
So you may once again shine so bright

But up until, the very last night
I will fight to set it all right

For into this world I came
And really, there's no one to blame

All I know is, I'll help you,
for you once helped me
And together we'll see this through

 

[Liselle]

Now Lisa can we have a little poem from you

I challenge anyone to write a pre birth limerick

There was a wee baby, they say
Who was due on her brother's birthday
"Egads," said she
"Most vexed he would be!"
As she popped out three fortnights away.

(That is only the teensiest bit autobiographical, so that I do not live in fear from posting stuff on the internet. Yes, I am a cowardly piece of work :bag:.)

 

[Liselle]

Blue_angel, that is beautiful. and you are brave. What an effort you put into it. :bows: I hope it helped you to put that into words.

(I apologize that my silly nonsense appears right after your poem. I always forget to check for cross-posts before clicking Submit. Had I done so, I would have waited until people had responded to yours.)

 

[blue_angel]

Lol, it was hard to post, not so brave, how many do you know named blue_angel?

Thank you, it did, it flew right out of me, along with a few tears, almost miraculously. Especially considering its my first poem ever lol. Mother always wanted to be first and special, well here's my first poem for you mom. I hope one day, you truly do feel special.

No need for an apolgy, your post lightened it up. A little lightening is always nice, at least to me.

 

[Trojina]

Wow Blue Angel, that is your first poem ever ?

It's beautiful and genuinely touches me. I like how you take us through with you, bringing all of your mother in from a young girl to old woman as if you go all the way with her no matter what she says to you.

:bows:

 

[Trojina]

A limerick is hard to write Lisa, I think it is a sterling effort !

 

[Liselle]

blue_angel - I read your poem a couple more times...is it saying what I think it's saying??

 

[anemos]

Was driving back home. There is a highway responsible for my folly. The moon always in front of me. I follow it ... it follows me. Love that company !!! On its screen I could see images. Here there are .A collage of images glued with clumsy words.


Christmas Eve
a celebration for the newborn child
Above the manger a brightstar ;
the light returns




he and she ,
at home getting dressed
wear their wedding garments
to celebrate their new era
the entrance to eternal life


he stands outside the temple
his suit well chosen
-he likes beautiful things-
holding her bouquet
imagining his father,
his words and blessings.
what he could say
if he could be there ?
if he hadn't fall down
from that gun's firing?

She comes in her white dress
her hair shiny dark
her eyes hide some tears
for her father can't give her
-he is absent too

A new born couple
exchanging vows
that Christmas Eve
to unite
till they come apart

love brought them together
and with those rings
they promise to keep it forever.


In that temple
a marriage takes place
before God and guests

those present – here and now
those absent – Past and Future
oh, are the absent ?
Who can tell?


the watchmaker maybe knows
and can hear
the Absent ones
and their heart's beat


Dots in an spiral
with no beginning and end.
Dots of beginnings and ends.
Bright dots
made of candle's lights
floating in a vast sea
together with the moon


she is bathing into the ocean
or its it up there , in the sky
where is it ?
present or absent ?

Present and Absent.
Like her light
His sun sends to her


they leave the temple
-they are one now-
and going home.
That Christmas Eve
when the light returns.


Time to return
for me too
draw a new cycle
for this endless spiral

 

[Liselle]

Anemos, I once attended a wedding near Christmas, and it was beautiful, so I had that imagery in my mind when I was reading. And I can almost hear the celestial clock ticking along through your poem. I like timepieces,so I really enjoyed that aspect.

Am confused a bit, though..."temple" to me implies Judaism, but then the Christmas Eve parts don't fit. Was that poetic word choice, or is there another religion that calls its places of worship temples?

 

[blue_angel]

Trojan- yes, first poem ever lol. For art I really like drawing, although I'm not very good. Poetry was not really "my thing". I think it was the topic that intrigued me. Mom, has borderline personality disorder. Life has not been easy for several generations. There is consistent progress though.

Lisa- yes, probably

I wrote a detailed explanation. Ended up having a few technical issues, tried a few times to make corrections so it wouldn't be so hard to read. I ended up just deleting.

I love all of your poems, best wishes.

 

[iams girl]

My tongue-in-cheek wish for human evolution is that the human sex drive gets over itself...

Well, if anything done well is an art , humanity seems more like a bunch of kids drawing messy crayon pictures to me (myself included). Judging by the speed of evolution ...it may be awhile .

 

[iams girl]

I apologize ahead of time for the
length of my poem. It just started flowing right
out of me, at times I had to take a break, just
for it to flow again. I am afraid of affecting
others, so this may be too heavy for some,
while it has been healing for me.

Your poem: :bows::bows::bows:, IG

 

[anemos]

For art I really like drawing, although I'm not very good. Poetry was not really "my thing".

can relate. i'm not very good at art too , need more lessons, yet i try to enjoy it and not worry a lot about technique. Words: not my thing either Brain has not much space for words - saying the test while my visual thing- images etc its tooo much -tests say. Consider reduce it- tests say again

To be honest I thought for a while and then said to myself: why change that ?

Blue angel, I assign you responsible for creating a thread for visual poetry.


To all : your poems are so lovely. thank you for sharing. I feel like we exchanging presents.:bows:

 

[anemos]

Am confused a bit, though..."temple" to me implies Judaism, but then the Christmas Eve parts don't fit. Was that poetic word choice, or is there another religion that calls its places of worship temples?

when i write I don't think much. Usually when I finish I ask "what is this" but not during the process.

I guess must be the Greek genes. Lots of temples here. Have no answer, cause i don't know. Just temple feels more appropriate than a church. I'm messing with time I guess, as you noticed too.

my parents got married at Christmas eve or Christmas day. have to check it. I don't recall why the choose that day. This process makes me go to my mother and ask why. Thinking of not telling her tho that 25 dec was not probably the day Christ was born

 

[sooo]

limerick for an angel

there once was a girl with feather shoes
who thought all she could sing were the blues
till freedom she discovered
her voice came uncovered
revealing the song of her muse.

 

[goddessliss]

What a gorgeous thread - thanks trojan for starting it and wow what beauty has come out of it.

Blue_Angel no wonder we resonate with each other plus you are so lovely perhaps because your mother was not you chose to be different - I know I did and sooo writing such loveliness about you too. See we all see the truth about you. - Liss

 

[Trojina]

I apologize ahead of time for the
length of my poem. It just started flowing right
out of me, at times I had to take a break, just
for it to flow again. I am afraid of affecting
others, so this may be too heavy for some,
while it has been healing for me.

Blue Angel said she was afraid of affecting others. I think there's no need to worry about that as people need only see what they wish to see in a poem.....At least the form of a poem, whilst it gives feelings can disguise the factual detail. Many people probably will not want to give factual detail of their parents lives on a public thread, especially private things, especially if their parents are still alive.

Also if a poem does anything it has to be a 31 thing doesn't it, it can affect others. We read to get affected, in the same way music or art can affect us and we can't ask that all music and art be happy and sunshiney, 'positive' , wouldn't be real.

I'm saying this incase anyone felt the same way as Blue Angel.

Also even if someone asks you about the facts and so on you don't have to answer. Your poem is enough. It's nice when someone is interested , but this can be sensitive stuff so think anyone must feel free to keep private what they want to keep private.

Liss, I wondered if you would come to this thread as I read before your early life had much in common with Blue Angel's. In such cases doing this is a brave thing, even just doing it for yourself and not posting it is a brave thing.


I think the process of making the poem changes things, it has magical properties. You call in something more than just putting words down. Poems can be like spells. Think I already said that.

 

[iams girl]

To all : your poems are so lovely. thank you for sharing. I feel like we exchanging presents.:bows:

A beautiful way of expressing it, Anemos, girl of the temples.

When we move from seeing our particular suffering as “our” pain and begin to experience it simply as “the” pain – the pain of all creation…– then we move on from being separate and alone, and our suffering becomes a doorway into community with the family of the earth. ~~Wayne Muller (think he would agree )

 

[blue_angel]

Anemos- I love that "exchanging presents" it does feel that way. Has warmed and lightened my heart, like a graceful, loving hug. I too like the use of temples, has an elegance to it. Me?? Visual poetry?

Sooo- I have not ever had anyone write me a poem, and here you have written two. They are so lovely, and special to me. Touches my heart,
its a beautiful thing.

Trojan- poems really can be like spells, I agree thank you again for sharing all you have.

Liss- Thank you...

Iams girl- wonderful quotes you share.

I hope there will be more of these poems.

 

[anemos]

Me?? Visual poetry?

why not ?

I would love to see your Art .. oh, and visual poetry was a 'working title'
reading a book and the feel is like reading poetry , listening to music ; a very h16 book. The subject has nothing to do with that kind of art, but the author (whom so far I enjoy immensely) seems to love his subject and his love vibrates- a piece of art that comes from the heart .

The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves ~ C.G.Jung

i'm a lot like you. worrying about the affect of my stories would have to others. Some will not understand it and call it drama, some will get influenced and will happen that you are afraid of, and some, in those words will express unspoken words of them, and feel that they are not alone. Isn't it what art is about ?

 

[blue_angel]

I wouldn't even know how to begin or what to write about.

 

[sooo]

I wouldn't even know how to begin or what to write about.

Well then how did you write your poem here? You might ask yourself, from where did it come?

I've always found it to be a dance of seeking what wants to be said, or created, and how to tweak that natural flow through some editing consciously. Like a dance between the left and right hemispheres of the brain (logic/intuition), with a bit of touch-up from the brain's frontal lobe, which discerns, analyzes, but not in an overbearing way; just as you would teach a child to walk: the child holds your hands as you guide him/her forward, but it's the child's feet and senses that move him/her forward.

People used to always ask, when I wrote songs, do you write the words to the music or music to the lyrics. I'd answer, I write what wanted to be written. Often times I didn't even know, it was as though the best ones happened to me, rather than me writing them from something I wanted to say. It was most often just a feeling, and the words came so fast it was all I could do to grab a pen and write it down fast enough so it wouldn't fade or fly away - a hex 30 experience: catching the bird of brightness in the net before it flew away. Once it flies away, it rarely returns again, so you have to be spontaneous and act before over-thinking about what it means? Does it make sense? Then the conscious editor steps in, and I allow it to change this a bit, reword that a bit, but being very careful to not ruin the original feeling, breaking the bird's wing or leg by being too rough and rambunctious.

When there is already an established theme, such as Trojan created for the poems on this thread, which itself was very creative and outside the box of the expected, you steer into it, like a surfer steers their board to catch the wave and then position the board and body to ride upon it, adjusting ones weight and position on the board, which adjusts the board's position on the wave. It's more than just passively going wherever the wave directs the board and rider, as the result of that is a sure wipeout. Cooperation, working with the available forces. For years I've referred to this, regarding life in general, as surfing the Tao. Let it happen to you, with your ability to catch the wave and ride it.