Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Grass growing under bare feet


photo by ravencypresswood



I play on the fire

                in the smoke,
                run my hands through its substance,
                send signals
                                          (i pre-tend)
                                                                    you
                                                                  will
                                                          receive
                                    cup
              some
                         in my hands
                                  like clay & form
                                           the untouchable
place it to my lips
& blow
                        ---sending them on their way,

in the Himalayas,
they place prayer flags
in high places / on the ridges
to be
                                                 closer to the heavens,
                                                 fill the land with
                                                 & everytime the wind whips them,
they sing the song,
                                anew.
                     


15 comments:

  1. I like the idea of thinking thoughts and then blowing them on their way, hoping someone else will receive them. And you never know if they are...... Smiles!

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  2. I can just see all our ideas like CoLouRS on the wind, love this!

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  3. Imagination running wild, birthing this lovely piece.

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  4. let the poem full of blessings reach the battered land and heal...your lines take me to the ruins of Nepal...

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  5. I really like the to send the thoughts through distances like smoke.. maybe we need to also listen more to those thoughts that pass through the air...

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  6. The soul rises and awakens with every birth.Love the mystic Himalayas, they always are....

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  7. How beautiful that closing image is, I have watched many documentaries on Bon and Tibetan Buddhism wonderful

    mindlovemisery

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  8. Man, I don't need any more than the title! That is the best feeling in the world. Especially if you take this phrase into consideration: "in high places"

    The embedded "GI"/"guy" makes me think of captured and tortured soldiers during wartime. (I watched most of a show called Homeland not too long ago, and Brody, one of the main characters, was waiting for rescue for like 8 years or something.) In light of that, this poem could be very sad. Love that it could mean anything to anybody, though. That's the best way to write poems.

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  9. that is an holy act to form words that bring life and hope... love the image of the prayer flags and how you describe the forming from clay - the untouchable - love this

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  10. The images of this poem capture life and hope.

    You sir, are such a brilliant and talented writer.

    Love this poem my friend.



    P.S I posted a poem this Monday check it out. I'm also going to post a new one later on today. :)

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  11. A very poetic rendering of 'good vibes'! I particularly like the image of the prayer flags that are close to heavens and pray according to the whims of the wind.

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  12. You are hilarious, dude. So many brazen absurdities here. I am cracking up, big time. Your spacing is absolutely brilliant. B-REAL-EYE-ANT. I would bow down, but that would be idolatry. And we don't want that, now do we? ;)

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  13. Somehow, they are both untouchable, the smoke, the wind--and both carry their hidden messages--

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  14. oh X how I love this if i knew the language of the smoke and wind I would ahowl you my appreciation....

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  15. What an opening line--and the metaphor is subtle as that melody you can't quite put a name to, but strong as the way it haunts your ear--the comparison of the smoke of love, of dream and hope, to the prayer flags is genius--really so much that is complex going on so smoothly here, so (if you will pardon the expression) efficiently, that the poem purrs like a well-tuned engine.

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