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Thread: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

  1. #1
    Flashaholic* dc38's Avatar
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    Default Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Chauncey Gardiner started a thread a WHILE back known as "Words to live by". With all this living by going on, I have decided to start this thread with the spirit of making observations or complaining about life. HOWEVER, it should done in such a way that leads people to ponder the mystery of life. This is not a thread to troll, this is not a thread to promote flaming. My personal favorites are riddles, to each his own.

    In the spirit of the thread, I'll start with a rather innocuous one that I'm SURE many people can relate to.

    The Money Tree
    Lo, what blossoms here in this city of glass and stone,
    So cold, serene, majestic, bold,but it is not alone;

    for every ten, no-twelve, no-fifteen feet, there stands another one,
    Its nourishment confounds me, for, It comes not from the sun.

    Rooted firmly in the false earth, its bulb is one to see;
    The ground from which its trunk extends is bleak and dead, to me

    The trunk itself is but a tube, it has been crafted in a forge,
    On the face of the tree itself is a mouth by which to gorge.

    Suddenly, it's clear to me that this tree does not grow,
    It flaunts time upon it's face, trees of nature have their rings to show.

    This tree is evil, filled with greed and pain,
    its water is not water, it drinks from a different kind of rain.

    In a shower of stamped discs, this evil tree flourishes.
    It holds its own amidst the sea of many trampling tourists.

    Money tree, money tree, why do you torment us.
    Had I known you would be here, I would have ridden the bus!
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Sentimental Education by Tony Hoagland

    And when we were eight, or nine,
    our father took us back into the Alabama woods,
    found a rotten log, and with his hunting knife

    pried off a slab of bark
    to show the hundred kinds of bugs and grubs
    that we would have to eat in a time of war.

    "The ones who will survive," he told us,
    looking at us hard,
    "are the ones who are willing to do anything."
    Then he popped one of those pale slugs
    into his mouth and started chewing.

    And that was Lesson Number 4
    in The Green Beret Book of Childrearing.

    I looked at my pale, scrawny, knock-kneed, bug-eyed brother,
    who was identical to me,
    and saw that, in a world that ate the weak,
    we didn't have a prayer,

    and next thing I remember, I'm working for a living
    at a boring job
    that I'm afraid of losing,

    with a wife whose lack of love for me
    is like a lack of oxygen,
    and this dead thing in my chest
    that used to be my heart.

    Oh, if he were alive, I would tell him, "Dad,
    you were right! I ate a lot of stuff
    far worse than bugs."

    And I was eaten, I was eaten,
    I was picked up
    and chewed
    and swallowed

    down into the belly of the world.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    VERY INTERESTING!

    I have written hundreds of quotes and dozens of Poems of which a few are published and in Poetry books.

    My best one is a heartfelt and sensitive side of me! It is called MY SPIRIT LIVES,,written in memory of a friend!

    I do not think it would qualify for this thread but I may start one or search for one where it may fit better.

    Anyway,,,thanks for your creativity and inspiring me!

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    A Resounding Zero by Nicanor Parra

    It all came down to nothing
    & of the nothing, there is very little left

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    The Cleaver
    Cleave ye, flesh unto flesh
    The Lord Almighty said to us.

    And cleave we did, so deep and true,
    and watched as the seed of our love grew,

    A fine young man he did become, treading straight and light,
    though very soon we came to find, he was walking into night.

    He slowly wandered away from us, towards a wily siren;
    her song was long and sad indeed, the burden of a mountain.

    We pleaded and begged, we raged and sobbed,
    but of our counsel he was robbed,

    The siren's words and promises would soon be found,
    filling his heart and senses abound.

    They fell like the execution'rs axe and cleft him from our eyes...
    we heard his confused utterances and grieved at his mangled cries...

    Each fell stroke of perverted moans slowly cleft my heart in two...
    As he quickly cleft his life away, to an early tomb.

    I ask but this, ask of yourself, to whom or what you believe?
    Watch what you say and do, to those ideas you'll cleave!
    Last edited by dc38; 01-30-2014 at 05:04 PM.
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Oh Yes by Charles Bukowski

    there are worse things than
    being alone
    but it often takes decades
    to realize this
    and most often
    when you do
    it's too late
    and there's nothing worse
    than
    too late.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    When they die we change our minds about them by Jennifer Michael Hecht

    When they die we change our minds
    about them. While they live we see
    the plenty hard they’re trying,
    to be a star, or nice, or wise,
    and so we do not quite believe them.

    When they die, suddenly they are
    what they claimed. Turns out,
    that’s what one of those looks like.

    The cold war over manner of manly
    or mission is over. Same person,
    same facts and acts, just now
    a quiet brain stem. We no longer
    begrudge his or her stupid luck.

    When they die we change our minds
    about them. I will try to believe
    while you yet breathe.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Are you guys all about to commit suicide or something?

    There's a theme going here that's really depressing.


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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by StarHalo View Post
    Oh Yes by Charles Bukowski

    there are worse things than
    being alone
    but it often takes decades
    to realize this
    and most often
    when you do
    it's too late
    and there's nothing worse
    than
    too late.
    When end I was a young man, early 20's, I wasn't wise enough to realize it's far better to be lonely than miserable.

    Fortunately, I met the lovely, soon to be Mrs. "Gardiner" and had the good sense to ask her to marry me. During the last 29 years I've never L@@Ked back,, or sideways for that matter. An old friend I hadn't seen for a very long time, asked me how I'd been able to stay married for so long. I answered, "I married-up, and have never forgotten that I did. If you don't believe me, just ask my mother-in-law."

    That's my story, and no TEEJ, I'm not about to comit suicide.

    ~ Chance
    Last edited by Chauncey Gardiner; 04-22-2014 at 12:11 PM. Reason: Spelling,, duh.
    Never point a flashlight at anything you don't intend to illuminate! Never buy a flashlight you have to make payments on.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by Chauncey Gardiner View Post
    When end I was a young man, early 20's, I wasn't wise enough to realise it's far better to be lonely than miserable.

    Fortunately, I met the lovely, soon to be Mrs. "Gardiner" and had the good sense to ask her to marry me. During the last 29 years I've never L@@Ked back,, or sideways for that matter. An old friend I hadn't seen for a very long time, asked me how I'd been able to stay married for so long. I answered, "I married-up, and have never forgotten that I did. If you don't believe me, just ask my mother-in-law."

    That's my story, and no TEEJ, I'm not about to comit suicide.

    ~ Chance
    LOL

    Of course, ironically, you're the one WITHOUT the depressing poem...

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by TEEJ View Post
    LOL

    Of course, ironically, you're the one WITHOUT the depressing poem...
    For the record, the first poem is about a parking meter, lol...
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

  12. #12

    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by TEEJ View Post
    LOL

    Of course, ironically, you're the one WITHOUT the depressing poem...
    I could write one about my mother-in-law......

    ~ Chance
    Never point a flashlight at anything you don't intend to illuminate! Never buy a flashlight you have to make payments on.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by Chauncey Gardiner View Post
    I could write one about my mother-in-law......

    ~ Chance
    LOL

    A friend once described "Conflicted" as "How I'd feel watching my mother in law drive off a cliff in my brand new car"


  14. #14

    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Why conflicted? Didn't he have insurance?

    Now, on the other hand, my wife and mother are the very best of friends. At the rehearsal dinner, mom stood, raised her glass and said, "If I had gone out to find a wife for my son, I would have brought back Debbie." I've always known that if push came to shove, it would be mom & wife, with me, the odd man out. Way out.....in the doghouse.

    Truth be told, I wouldn't have it any other way. Two of the finest women I've ever met.

    ~ C.G.
    Never point a flashlight at anything you don't intend to illuminate! Never buy a flashlight you have to make payments on.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    ^

    TEEJ, you average over 202 posts a month.


    CPF owes you a beer

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Quote Originally Posted by orbital View Post
    ^

    TEEJ, you average over 202 posts a month.


    CPF owes you a beer



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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Alright, here's a happy one:

    Meeting at Night by Robert Browning

    The gray sea and the long black land;
    And the yellow half-moon large and low:
    And the startled little waves that leap
    In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
    As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
    And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.

    Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
    Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
    A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
    And blue spurt of a lighted match,
    And a voice less loud, through joys and fears,
    Than the two hearts beating each to each!

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Labor as a Tulip by Karen Volkman

    Labor as a tulip
    arrays its flame, nu
    form, as the bulb-star,
    interred, divines its ore

    surging the gulf
    rooting it into
    appalled memento
    pulsing will.

    Leaf-blades score the heap.
    Other wounds—penetralia—
    other worlds, cries, far.
    Filaments, simples

    emblazoning the rei,
    rebus of grief.
    Unslumbering terra
    premising her kill.

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    A Sense of Proportion by William Stobb

    On 20th between Madison and Ferry
    a line of municipal maples binds the community
    to an orderly, serviceable beauty. Platforms
    from which our sparrows and starlings
    might decorate our domestic sedans,
    perhaps these trees serve most to stimulate
    the car wash economy. Today, they remind me:

    unsatisfied with workaday species, my parents
    nailed oranges to a post to attract the exotic Oriole.
    When the birds arrived, I wondered if they’d flown
    all the way from Baltimore, which in turn
    evoked a hotel, gables lined
    with black and tangerine, posh clientele
    spackled by the vagaries of Maryland living.

    By nine I could sigh, climb our single
    red maple, which I imagined a national landmark.
    Child of movies, I could see the tree even at night
    as a kind of beacon, a singularity. White
    sheen on the leaves’ pitchy gloss, bodily.
    And I too would learn to feel glazed
    as any creature accumulating light

    cast from stars, hidden in a federation
    of equivalent times, distant trains
    carrying sugar, coal, whole families beyond
    deserts, imposing ranges, shimmering coastlines
    said to define the spirit of a people.
    Far from the station, the pinpoint aurora,
    a line of municipal maples bears its charge.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    The Dream of a Common Language by Leigh Stein

    On Wednesdays I take the train past Yankee Stadium,
    to a place where it is never a given that I speak the language,
    to a place where graffiti covers the mural they painted to hide
    the graffiti, to a place where the children call me Miss Miss
    Miss Miss Miss and I find in one of their poems, a self-portrait,
    the line I wish I was rish. The dream of a common language

    is the language of one million dollars, of basketball, of plátanos.
    Are the kids black? my boyfriend wants to know. Dominican.
    It’s different. When asked to write down a question
    they wish they could ask their mom or dad, one boy writes,
    Paper or plastic? A girl in the back of the class wants to know
    Why don't I have lycene, translating the sound of the color

    of my skin into her own language. The best poet
    in sixth grade is the girl who is this year repeating
    sixth grade. When I tell her teacher of her talent
    she says, At least now we know she’s good
    at something. To speak their language, I study
    the attendance list, practice the cadence of their names.

    Yesterday I presented a black and white portrait of a black man,
    his bald head turned away from us, a spotted moth resting
    on one shoulder. I told them this is a man serving a life
    sentence in Louisiana. Is this art? Without hesitation,
    one girl said no, why would anybody
    want to take a picture
    of that.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Ode to Country Music by Sandra Simonds

    If I wasn’t such a deadbeat, I’d learn Greek.
    I wouldn’t write sonnets; I’d write epics
    and odes. I’d love a man who was
    acceptable and conformed to every code.
    I’d put together my desk and write my epic or ode
    at sunset over my suburb. How I would love my shrubs!
    But all I do is listen to country (and the occasional Joni)
    and smoke. Judge me judge me
    judge me. Oh I’ve been through the shallows.
    I shallow. I hope. I hole. I know
    I wrote you the most brutal love poem that knows.

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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Landscape With a Blur of Conquerors by Richard Siken

    To have a thought, there must be an object—
    the field is empty, sloshed with gold, a hayfield thick
    with sunshine. There must be an object so land
    a man there, solid on his feet, on solid ground, in
    a field fully flooded, enough light to see him clearly,

    the light on his skin and bouncing off his skin.
    He’s easy to desire since there’s not much to him,
    vague and smeary in his ochers, in his umbers,
    burning in the open field. Forget about his insides,
    his plumbing and his furnaces, put a thing in his hand

    and be done with it. No one wants to know what’s
    in his head. It should be enough. To make something
    beautiful should be enough. It isn’t. It should be.
    The smear of his head—I paint it out, I paint it in
    again. I ask it what it wants. I want to be a cornerstone,

    says the head. Let’s kill something. Land a man in a
    landscape and he’ll try to conquer it. Make him
    handsome and you’re a fascist, make him ugly and
    you’re saying nothing new. The conqueror suits up
    and takes the field, his horse already painted in

    beneath him. What do you do with a man like that?
    While you are deciding, more men ride in. The hand
    sings weapon. The mind says tool. The body swerves
    in the service of the mind, which is evidence of
    the mind but not actual proof. More conquerors.

    They swarm the field and their painted flags unfurl.
    Crown yourself with leaves and stake your claim
    before something smears up the paint. I turned away
    from darkness to see daylight, to see what would
    happen. What happened? What does a man want?

    Power. The men spread, the thought extends. I paint
    them out, I paint them in again. A blur of forces.
    Why take more than we need? Because we can.
    Deep footprint, it leaves a hole. You’d break your
    heart to make it bigger, so why not crack your skull

    when the mind swells. A thought bigger than your
    own head. Try it. Seriously. Cover more ground.
    I thought of myself as a city and I licked my lips.
    I thought of myself as a nation and I wrung my hands,
    I put a thing in your hand. Will you defend yourself?

    From me, I mean. Let’s kill something. The mind
    moves forward, the paint layers up: glop glop and
    shellac. I shovel the color into our faces, I shovel our
    faces into our faces. They look like me. I move them
    around. I prefer to blame others, it’s easier. King me.

  23. #23
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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Miracle by Charles Bukowski

    I have just listened to this
    symphony which Mozart dashed off
    in one day
    and it had enough wild and crazy
    joy to last
    forever,
    whatever forever
    is
    Mozart came as close as
    possible to
    that.

  24. #24
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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    The advent of increasing conventional knowledge heralds the decline of unconventional wisdom.

    Strength that is ignorant of weakness is a weakness. The forces that drive people may very well become their stumbling block. Greed trips the greedy, wealth marks the wealthy, power corrupts the powerful, etc.
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

  25. #25
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    I have seen beyond the farthest reaches of our universe. I have seen past the great void and beyond. Beyond the edge of our universe lies nothing...less than the nothing of space itself. Space stretches further than any created eye can see, and wider than any created mind can comprehend. It is lonely here, a plane where no gravity other than from myself pulls...where I am the center of my own little universe. And ultimately in my own existence where my will be done, the only ponderance that comes to mind is that living only for myself is the single stupidest, ignorant, unfulfillingly most illogical travesty I could ever commit.
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

  26. #26

    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    I've… seen things you people wouldn't believe… Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those… moments… will be lost in time, like [small cough] tears… in… rain. Time… to die…

    Roy Batty
    Never point a flashlight at anything you don't intend to illuminate! Never buy a flashlight you have to make payments on.

  27. #27
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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Linguistical language is the greatest lie ever committed. It is chaotic, untamed, and changes with the course of human culture. It breeds arrogance, condescension, and has been quoted as being "a double edged sword". It is easily used to manipulate, and is easily corruptible. It is the Devil's favorite weapon. It is, in fact, the language of the devil.

    Mathematical language is beautiful, a series of logical definitions. It is clear to those who understand it, and provides proofs and evidence or lack thereof to lead one to many truths. Is builds upon our understanding rather than our comprehension. It is quite literally the language of creation, and can therefore be inferred to be the proverbial language of God.
    -I am no law abiding citizen. I am merely not a lawbreaker.
    -Guilty until proven innocent.
    -If it can be conceived by humans, then it can be unravelled by humans.

  28. #28

    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    There was a time the whole world had one language - one common speech for all people. The people of the earth became skilled in construction and decided to build a city with a tower that would reach to heaven. By building the tower they wanted to make a name for themselves and also prevent their city from being scattered.
    God came to see their city and the tower they were building. He perceived their intentions, and in His infinite wisdom, He knew this "stairway to heaven" would only lead the people away from God. He noted the powerful force within their unity of purpose. As a result, God confused their language, causing them to speak different languages so they would not understand each other.
    By doing this, God thwarted their plans. He also scattered the people of the city all over the face of the earth.
    Never point a flashlight at anything you don't intend to illuminate! Never buy a flashlight you have to make payments on.

  29. #29

    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    It was many and many a year ago,
    In a kingdom by the sea,
    That a maiden there lived whom you may know
    By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
    And this maiden she lived with no other thought
    Than to love and be loved by me.

    I was a child and she was a child,
    In this kingdom by the sea;
    But we loved with a love that was more than love-
    I and my Annabel Lee;
    With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
    Coveted her and me.

    And this was the reason that, long ago,
    In this kingdom by the sea,
    A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
    My beautiful Annabel Lee;
    So that her highborn kinsman came
    And bore her away from me,
    To shut her up in a sepulchre
    In this kingdom by the sea.

    The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
    Went envying her and me-
    Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
    In this kingdom by the sea)
    That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
    Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

    But our love it was stronger by far than the love
    Of those who were older than we-
    Of many far wiser than we-
    And neither the angels in heaven above,
    Nor the demons down under the sea,
    Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

    For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
    Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
    Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
    In the sepulchre there by the sea,
    In her tomb by the sounding sea.


    Edgar Allan Poe
    Thanks, CPF!

  30. #30
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    Default Re: Cryptic poems and poetic ramblings etc. General ponderings.

    Ultimately the air
    Is bare sunlight where must be found
    The lyric valuables


    - George Oppen

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