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Earth's In Love

by HH » Wed May 04, 2005 9:24 pm


Earth's In Love



Season's change and flowers too
So they may die and start anew
The sky may go from gray to blue
And some of us are like that too

Some of us are like the earth
Hiding diamonds in the dirt
Or gold and silver in the cave
Just waiting for the pick and spade

Hard as granite, cold as steel
Always heavy, always real
Yet always falling for the one
That must change from sun to sun

Oh that fateful night in June
When the earth fell for the moon
And winter fell in love with spring
And all the happiness it brings


- Lisa G. Leming



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Spam Poetry

by HH » Fri May 06, 2005 9:29 am


Spam Poetry


saloonkeeper tokamak joe
virtuous walden coffeecup
shallot survival winifred

vocabulary opel teutonic
imponderable anyplace brief
blowback contemporary senior


- jvitor : April 13, 2004



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100 + ... ! : "Weekend Glory"

by HH » Sat May 07, 2005 8:23 pm

"Weekend Glory" is a poem about how people pretend to be something they’re not to enhance their social reputations. The poem talks about a [black] woman, her job at a plant, and her lack of money. But this doesn’t affect her happiness such as going out with her friends and having fun.

Weekend Glory


Some clichty folks
don't know the facts,
posin' and preenin'
and puttin' on acts,
stretchin' their backs.


They move into condos
up over the ranks,
pawn their souls
to the local banks.
Buying big cars
they can't afford,
ridin' around town
actin' bored.


If they want to learn how to live life right
they ought to study me on Saturday night.


My job at the plant
ain't the biggest bet,
but I pay my bills
and stay out of debt.
I get my hair done
for my own self's sake,
so I don't have to pick
and I don't have to rake.


Take the church money out
and head cross town
to my friend girl's house
where we plan our round.
We meet our men and go to a joint
where the music is blue
and to the point.


Folks write about me.
They just can't see
how I work all week
at the factory.
Then get spruced up
and laugh and dance
And turn away from worry
with sassy glance.


They accuse me of livin'
from day to day,
but who are they kiddin'?
So are they.


My life ain't heaven
but it sure ain't hell.
I'm not on top
but I call it swell
if I'm able to work
and get paid right
and have the luck to be Black
on a Saturday night.



- Maya Angelou



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Life With Poetry ... OR Is It?

by HH » Mon May 09, 2005 12:04 pm


Life With Poetry ... OR Is It?


*
POETRY

To you who hate poetry:
you don't know what you're missing.

To you who don't fully understand it,
you who know what you're missing, but try anyway,
cuddled up on a couch, cup of tea in hand,
re-reading a phrase for the 45th time,
scraping away at the three-inch-thick layer of ice
on the windshield in front of you,
smashing, scraping,
working out from the one crystal spot
you've already broken through,
scraping, smashing,
picking apart,
picking away,
fascinated, intrigued,
determined, drivin within this endless mine
to find and pick away the sacred golden bits of understanding
that will bring you one tiny, extraordinary, enlightening step closer
to the vast, elusive meaning of life:
Keep picking.

To anyone who understands it all:
you don't know what you're missing.



**
CHAMELEON

This is a poem that looks like prose. You may ask, "If it's
spaced like prose, isn't it prose?" Well, not really. You see,
a poem can have about any format it wants. Verse is free
and flexible, constantly taking on new forms and adapting to
its environment. This poem choses its spacing and syntax
precisely to imitate prose. But don't be fooled; it's just
pretending. If you look very closely at the end of this
sentence, you'll notice it does something that only a poem
can do . Oops, it slipped.





- squish



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LIVING COLORS

by HH » Thu May 12, 2005 11:11 am


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Spider Webs in the Sunrise


*
LIVING COLORS

slowly they creep up over the distant horizon
each one streaking out across the sky
vying for dominance;each one trying to create
a brilliance unsurpassed by the others.
all togeather forever rising just before the sun,
chasing over the heavens
in jealose admiration of each other;
an endless fantasticly beautiful mural.



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DADDY ....

by HH » Sat May 14, 2005 7:36 pm


DADDY ....


*
You Are A Quiet Strength
That Is Known
For Tenderness And Devotion
A Friend To All
An Enemy Of None
God's Precious Treasure
In Life's Setting Sun
You Are A Keeper Of Peace
Full Of Kindness
With Devoted Love Unleashed


**
I've Cried A Million Tears
Thinking Of The Troubles
I've Put You Through
Of All The Angry Words
I Hastily Spoke To You
There Were Many Night's
You Didn't Go To Sleep
Sitting At Home Worried
Knowing What I Sowed
I Would Have To Reap
Yet, You Never Gave Up On Me
Your Love Saw Me Through
Now Thanks To God And You
I Have A Good Life
That's Worthy And True



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Mother ....

by HH » Tue May 17, 2005 10:18 am

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Mother ....


*

Remember Those Wakeful
Hours Of The Night
When You Were There
To End My Fright
And Threads Of Smoke
From Hearth Fires Burned
Where At Your Knee's
My Prayer's I Learned
You Always Carried The Heaviest Load
Never Looking Back
On Life's Weary Road
But, You Know Mom
I Saw Today
What God Does See
He Blessed The World
When He Gave Us Thee


**
On Troubled Shores You Set Sail
Never Letting Mist Of Doubt Prevail
Leaving Your Own Dreams Far Behind
Searching For Peace You Could Not Find
Late At Night I Could Hear You Cry
Praying To God And Asking, “Why?”
Thank You Mother, For Bending Your Knee
And Asking God To Take Care Of Me
Even In The Darkest Hour
God Hears A Mother's Prayer




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Angels Around Us

by HH » Wed May 18, 2005 7:52 pm

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*
Angels Around Us

We Have Angels All Around Us
For They Are Everywhere
We Cannot Actually See Them
But We Know That They Are There
The Angels Are Here Protecting
And Keeping Us From Harm
They Move So Quiet And Gracefully
With All Their Elegance And Charm
Angels Are A Gift From God
He Sends Them Here When Things Go Wrong
And When We Feel The Angels Touch
They Feel So Very Strong
As You Wonder If The Angels
That You Have Are Near
Just Remember They're A Gift From God
He's Made That Very Clear




**

Angels

Angels Are Like Drops Of Rain
Falling From The Sky
They Flap Their Wings On Their Way Down
As They Begin To Fly
They Wrap Their Wings Around Us
And Hold Us Very Tight
Oh Then When We Look At Them
They're Such A Beautiful Sight
They Go With Us Everywhere
It Seems They're In Disguise
Sometimes When We Look For Them
We Can't See Them With Our Eyes
We Know That They Are With Us
We Can Feel Their Love
God Sent Them Down From Heaven
From Our Heavenly Home Above




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Post Life : When I Arrived In Heaven ...

by HH » Fri May 20, 2005 10:05 am

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*
Post Life : When I Arrived In Heaven ...


When I arrived In Heaven
The First Things That I Saw
Were All The Beautiful Flowers Here
And They Had Not One Small flaw
On Down The Road As I Traveled More
I Came To A Beautiful Lake
When My Eyes First Looked Upon It
Oh My Breath Did It Take
You Can Never Imagine The Beauty It Holds
For My Eyes It's Quite A Sight
When My Friends And Family Join Me Here
It Will Bring My Heart Delight
So Please Don't Anyone Worry About Me
I Don't Want You To Shed A Tear
All The Things I Loved On Earth
Are Much More Beautiful Here
When The Day Comes That We're Together Again
This Day I Do Await
I'll Be The One With The Smile On Their Face
As you Enter The Pearly Gates


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Dear FRIEND ... True FRIEND ...

by HH » Sat May 21, 2005 10:26 am

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*
Dear FRIEND


When I arrived In Heaven
The First Things That I Saw
Were All The Beautiful Flowers Here
And They Had Not One Small flaw
On Down The Road As I Traveled More
I Came To A Beautiful Lake
When My Eyes First Looked Upon It
Oh My Breath Did It Take
You Can Never Imagine The Beauty It Holds
For My Eyes It's Quite A Sight
When My Friends And Family Join Me Here
It Will Bring My Heart Delight
So Please Don't Anyone Worry About Me
I Don't Want You To Shed A Tear
All The Things I Loved On Earth
Are Much More Beautiful Here
When The Day Comes That We're Together Again
This Day I Do Await
I'll Be The One With The Smile On Their Face
As you Enter The Pearly Gates



**
True FRIEND


You Are A Laughing Breeze
That Blows Tenderly In My Heart
One Whose Inner Strength
Gives An Abundance Of Heart Felt Joy
A Loving Person
That Is Known For Tenderness
And Eternal Devotion
A Wondrous Miracle
Who Has Brought Love And Laughter
Into My Life


You Are A True Friend

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Dear FRIEND ... Gift Of FRIENDSHIP ...

by HH » Sun May 22, 2005 4:20 pm

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*
Dear FRIEND


When You Get To Heaven
And I Know You Surely Will
There Is A Special Place
That Only You Can Fill
There Is A Seat Up There
Close To God's Throne
A Reward For All The Thoughtful Seeds
Your Precious Hands Have Sown
God Could Search The Whole World Over
And Never Would He Find
Anyone More Special
Than This Friend Of Mine

You're Wonderful!



**
Gift of FRIENDSHIP


There Is A Gift Of Friendship
That God Has Give To Me
He Put You Here To Help Me
With The Things I Cannot See
A Friend Is Someone Special
Who's Always There For You
In Good Times And In Bad
A Friend Will See You Through
God's The One Who Gives Us Friends
This Is A Special Gift
Our Friends Are Always There
When We Need That Extra Lift
There Are Certain Things
That Only True Friends Can Share
And Also When I Need You
I Know That You'll Be There
You Know You've Got A Friend
For You Have A Friend In Me
I'll Always Be There To Help You
With The Things You Cannot See

Thanks For Your Friendship!

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Just For One Day

by HH » Tue May 24, 2005 5:48 pm

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*
Just For One Day



Just for one day, I wish that I could speak your language
So that I could listen to your voice, and understand you
Just for one day, I wish that I could visit with you
So that I could learn more about you
Just for one day, I wish that I could look into your eyes
And see the light of the soul that you are
Just for one day, I wish that I could embrace you
And call you my brother, my sister, my family
Just for one day

Just for one day, I wish that we could focus on our similarities
For we have spent too long arguing over our differences
Just for one day, I would like us all to acknowledge
That Creator, Spirit, All That Is, Allah, Jehovah, and God
Are One and the same, as are we
And that is Love

Just for one day


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TODAY!

by HH » Wed May 25, 2005 8:31 pm

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*
Morning



From the East comes the sun,
Bringing a new and unspoiled day.
It has already circled the Earth and
Looked upon distant lands and
Far-away peoples.

It has passed over mountain ranges and
The waters of the seven seas.
It has shown upon laborers in the fields,
Into the windows of homes,
And shops, and factories.

It has beheld cities with gleaming towers,
And also the hovels of the poor.
It has been witness to both good and evil,
The works of honest men and women and
The conspiracy of knaves.

It has seen marching armies, bomb-blasted villages
And "the destruction that wasteth at noonday."
Now, unsullied from its tireless journey,
It comes to us,
Messenger of the morning.
Harbinger of a new day."



Beautiful Today


If I could, I'd comb the sky
and collect the stars,
quickly pile them into a basket
until it overflowed with silvery light.
And then I'd give the basket to you,
because all things precious
and beautiful
should be yours today.


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Life With Zines / eZines ...

by HH » Thu May 26, 2005 5:22 pm


*
Life With Zines / eZines ...



Zines/and eZines are inventing and obliterating genres.
They are all over the place.
But you can count on a couple of things:
The editor's note that says, 'sorry this is late,'
And a handful of Zines and eZines that rise above
the rest and just blow you away.


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From Passage to India

by HH » Sat May 28, 2005 7:36 pm


*
Walt Whitman (1819–1892) : From Passage to India



1

Singing my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong light works of engineers,
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)
In the Old World the east the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann'd,
The seas inlaid with eloquent gentle wires;
Yet first to sound, and ever sound, the cry with thee O soul,
The Past! the Past! the Past!

The Past—the dark unfathom'd retrospect!
The teeming gulf—the sleepers and the shadows!
The past—the infinite greatness of the past!
For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?
(As a projectile form'd, impell'd, passing a certain line, still keeps on,
So the present, utterly form'd, impell'd by the past.)


2

Passage O soul to India!
Eclaircise the myths Asiatic, the primitive fables.

Not you alone proud truths of the world,
Nor you alone ye facts of modern science,
But myths and fables of eld, Asia's, Africa's fables,
The far-darting beams of the spirit, the unloos'd dreams,
The deep diving bibles and legends,
The daring plots of the poets, the elder religions;
O you temples fairer than lilies pour'd over by the rising sun!
O you fables spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known, mounting
to heaven!
You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish'd with gold!
Towers of fabled immortal fashion'd from mortal dreams!
You too I welcome and fully the same as the rest!
You too with joy I sing.

Passage to India!
Lo, soul, seest thou not God's purpose from the first?
The earth to be spann'd, connected by network,
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,
The oceans to be cross'd, the distant brought near,
The lands to be welded together.

A worship new I sing,
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours,
Your engineers, you architects, machinists, yours,
You, not for trade or transportation only,
But in God's name, and for thy sake O soul.


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Word Play

by HH » Sun May 29, 2005 11:10 am

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Life Is ...

by HH » Mon May 30, 2005 11:20 am


*
Life Is ...



Life is good.
Life is fun.
Life is great.
Life is cool.
Life is neat.
Life is intersting.
Life is awsome.



But there is one
problem with life
the deval trys to
take it over and
that makes .....



Life is bad.
Life is hard.
Life is mean.
Life is ugly.



But because of
God life is all
the things above
and more.


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Is Life Worth Living?

by HH » Tue May 31, 2005 12:15 pm


Is Life Worth Living?



IS life worth living? Yes, so long
As there is wrong to right,
Wail of the weak against the strong,
Or tyranny to fight;



Long as there lingers gloom to chase,
Or streaming tear to dry,
One kindred woe, one sorrowing face
That smiles as we draw nigh;



Long as a tale of anguish swells
The heart, and lids grow wet,
And at the sound of Christmas bells
We pardon and forget;



So long as Faith with Freedom reigns,
And loyal Hope survives,
And gracious Charity remains
To leaven lowly lives;



While there is one untrodden tract
For Intellect or Will,
And men are free to think and act
Life is worth living still . . . .

- Alfred Austin


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RIPPLES

by HH » Wed Jun 01, 2005 7:12 pm


RIPPLES for Norma Shapiro



Ia teacher tosses a

pebble into the pool

of knowledge



causing a ripple

that creates another



and that ripple

creates another



and that ripple

creates another

and so on



across the pond

across the lake

across the river

across the ocean

across the world's seas



rippling down waterfalls

tumbling over rocks

licking sandy beaches



one ripple is magnified

covering the waters of

the earth forever touching

lives unseen

lives yet to be



and the knowledge goes

on and on to people who

will never have heard of

the teacher



but will drink from her wisdom



(2003)


- Cara


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Bored? Try Poetry

by HH » Fri Jun 03, 2005 11:36 am


Bored? Try Poetry for INSTANT GRATIFICATION: That's verse for you.



Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.

There is no happiness like mine.

I have been eating poetry.

Mark Strand, "Eating Poetry", Reasons for Moving, 1968



*
Depending on which side of the fence you stand, this quote may either disgust you or delight you. Poetry does that to people; there can be no middle path with it.

In this world of instant gratification, nothing gratifies as instantly as poetry. You might have to read an entire book or sit through an entire movie to be moved by it. But with poetry, all it takes is a few lines. You can laugh, cry, turn thoughtful or simply look at something in a completely new angle.
**
Gratification from poetry comes not only in the reading aloud but also in the writing about. Adults use poetry as a vehicle for expressing their innermost thoughts when being politically correct is the done thing.
***
The beauty of poetry lies in its ability to inspire.
****
The bottom line is that no matter what the length or language, poetry moves people. And therein lies its triumph.
*****

All-time favourites


    Daffodils
    The Solitary Reaper
    The Village School Master
    The Buried Life
    Stopping by the woods one snowy evening
    Poetry of Dylan Thomas and Vikram Seth



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A Simple Prayer

by HH » Sat Jun 04, 2005 10:34 am

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Image

A Simple Prayer by Stephanie Post



Open your eyes,

What do you see?

Clear your ears,

What do you hear?

Let the tears fall,

From your eyes,

Release your feelings,

Show your pride,

Be happy for life,

Be happy for friends,

Be happy for love,

Use every thing God has given you,

Be one of god’s children,

Make him proud,

Kneel at the side of bed,

And pray out loud,

Show your love,

Show your care,

For all it takes,

Is a simple prayer!


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DOES POETRY MATTER?

by HH » Mon Jun 06, 2005 12:47 pm


DOES POETRY MATTER?



To poets yes.
The audience can snooze; they already do.
And the inspired scribbles don't change the world, but neither does religion, really.
Why ask from poets what you don't ask from priests?
Both vocations torture meanings from gibberish, and call their failures mysteries.

Poets fancy themselves a cut above the rest, a delusion shared by big name singers, heartthrob thespians, and sport stars whose names are glued to overpriced sneakers.
Poets share delusions with VIPs but not their fortunes.
Nevertheless, poetry matters,
keeps your hands busy and your fingers out of your nose.
The benefits of printed verse spread like the hackneyed ripples in a pond,
to stationery stores, of course, and ultimately to loggers, to insomniacs in need of a soporific,
to the constipated tired of counting bathroom tiles, to pseudointellectuals who revel in reciting anything that impresses, to in-debt graduate students who must fill theses papers with ink blots,
to college administrators who need low overhead courses, to the nude emperor who's still shopping for new clothes.

What if all humanity were poets?

Only wars of words would be fought.
Maneuvers in bad metaphors,
would crush egos rather than bones.
Fierce literary critics would be jaded machine gunners, cutting down legions of hacks with rat-a-tat reviews that always praise a competent but predictable technique.
A world of poets but few readers
(but that world is right under your shoes.) The ration of good lines would be quickly exhausted, or worse, buried in a blizzard of overlong rantings.

Poets,
keep them hungry, keep them few,
but most of all keep them largely unread, then like toddlers they'll bang their spoons on highchairs demanding to be heard.

- RICHARD FEIN : bardbyte@idt.net


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Zest for Life

by HH » Tue Jun 07, 2005 9:37 am

Zest for Life

Have you ever watched a child master a new skill? Can you remember a time when you discovered a new hobby or activity that seemed really exciting to you? Have you ever known one of those people who started a new career at age 65? Do you ever feel that kind of passion in your life?

Passion -- an enthusiasm for life, for learning, creating, enjoying. Sometimes, however, the everyday responsibilities of life drag down our passions. Restoring those feelings may be child's play, literally.

Children aren't restricted by the limitations adults place on themselves. They aren't concerned with what others think. Kids can enjoy "foolish" things -- walking barefoot in the rain, flying kites, drinking straight from the garden hose.

Think about the people you know who just seem to drink life in. They enjoy everything. They challenge the worn-out rules and restrictions of convention and see meaning in their lives.

You can recapture the passion left in childhood by finding something you care about -- something you feel passionate about. Perhaps you enjoy writing, playing the piano, birdwatching, spending time with children, or taking photos. Whatever you love to do, find time to do it. After all, something is taking up all of your time each day. Shouldn't part of that day be spent doing something you love to do? You bet!

Learn to dream about how you'd like your life to be. The author Robert Greenleaf writes, "Nothing much happens without a dream. For something really great to happen, it takes a really great dream." Some of the most passionate, famous people had great dreams: Thomas Edison, Winston Churchill, Liz Claiborne. They all achieved great things during their middle years. It's never too late to relight your fire.

Ann McGee-Cooper outlines in her book, You Don't Have to Come Home From Work Exhausted, some strategies to help you find your lost passion, to think more like a child. Try to:

* Seek things you think are fun to do -- and do them!
* Be curious -- try anything once.
* Smile a lot and laugh often.
* Experience and express emotions freely.
* Be creative -- even about solving everyday problems.
* Exercise and be physically active.
* Challenge yourself to learn about new things. Take a literature class, become a gourmet cook, change the oil in your car, learn to speak French.
* Be enthusiastic. Look for the positive in a situation.
* Every day, list three things you are happy about.
* Dream. Imagine your life the way you'd like it to be -- no matter how outrageous.
* Believe in the impossible. You never know what power your thoughts will have.
* Let go of worry. Don't dwell on what awful things might happen. Focus on the incredible things just around the corner.
* Be passionate. Be childlike. Express your feelings. Don't allow yourself to be confined by the judgment of others.

Your passion may be lying just beneath the surface. Take time each day to release your playful, curious, adventurous self. Rediscover the child within!

REFERENCE

You Don't have To Go Home From Work Exhausted!, Ann McGee-Cooper, Bantam Books, 1992.

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Death Verse ...

by HH » Wed Jun 08, 2005 10:09 am


Death Verse ...



*
Inscription for a War

by A.D. Hope

“Stranger, go tell the Spartans we died here obedient to their commands.”
— Inscription at Thermopylae

**

Linger not, stranger. Shed no tear.
Go back to those who sent us here.

We are the young they drafted out
To wars their folly brought about.

Go tell those old men, safe in bed,
We took their orders and are dead.




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War Against Life ...

by HH » Fri Jun 10, 2005 2:21 pm


War Against Life ...


All armies are the same, all swords are the same.

Light mowed down by hooves of horses.

* * *

It's always the same.

And every time the aftermath — a realm of total silence.

A silence that swallows

the terror and horror of victorious drumming.


- Iftikhar Arif of Pakistan


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