Legacy for Leonard
I Am You
We'd pass each other in the street
You face down lookin' at my feet
I face up like there is a pie in the sky
We hustle around and around and around
You'd go out get fucked up act dumb
I'd go down hang around the synagogue
We both heard something
Something else, but what
Some mates kicked me in the guts
Or was it you
Said don't be stupid, go back to school
You just watched like you knew too
So the shepherd from the flock
In the late hour of the other night
Lost his way
We all lose our way eventually
But what is in essence in the end
Is the life in-between the right path
And nirvana, those moments
You am I and I am you
Without ever knowing it
We just do what we do
We keep on doing what we have to
To get a life
Dance, sing, throw away our blues
The war it ended last night
There's no more conflict left
Let the newspaper blow down the street
Let the sun, the moon
Just let everyone snooze
It's over now, just like
It never did or could
Its over now, so look around at what is new
Throw away your new day blues
Give them to me I know what to do
It's over now, here is the truth.
We'd pass each other in the street
You face down lookin' at my feet
I face up like there is a pie in the sky
We hustle around and around and around
You'd go out get fucked up act dumb
I'd go down hang around the synagogue
We both heard something
Something else, but what
Some mates kicked me in the guts
Or was it you
Said don't be stupid, go back to school
You just watched like you knew too
So the shepherd from the flock
In the late hour of the other night
Lost his way
We all lose our way eventually
But what is in essence in the end
Is the life in-between the right path
And nirvana, those moments
You am I and I am you
Without ever knowing it
We just do what we do
We keep on doing what we have to
To get a life
Dance, sing, throw away our blues
The war it ended last night
There's no more conflict left
Let the newspaper blow down the street
Let the sun, the moon
Just let everyone snooze
It's over now, just like
It never did or could
Its over now, so look around at what is new
Throw away your new day blues
Give them to me I know what to do
It's over now, here is the truth.
Jack,
I played a little with your poem from page 3 of this thread.
The Flower of Truly Meeting
A penny for your thoughts
...She took it!
beckoning me to watch
where she would place it
At the mall
in the plexiglass covered reception of charity
went my penny
and we watched it spiral
out of sight
She turned to me
just as clear
showing me where every word I spoke
was travelling
Moved to the depths
by the care she gave
every utterance:
"You are just as clear
and that
allows me to enjoy every word
I give to you "
How can we hold to such beauty?
I asked
That Golden Splendour
that flower that blooms for only one day
smiled
and was on her way .
I hope it helps you work more on this lovely poem Jack. Mat J.
I played a little with your poem from page 3 of this thread.
The Flower of Truly Meeting
A penny for your thoughts I said to her
she took it beckoning me to watch where she would place it
At the mall in the plexiglass covered reception of charity
went my penny and we watched it spiral out of sight
She turned to me and she was just as clear
Showing me where every word I spoke to her was travelling
I was moved to the depths by the care she gave every utterence
You are just as clear she said to me
and it allows me to enjoy every word I give to you
How can we hold to such beauty I asked
She gave me a Golden Splendour
A flower that blooms for one day
She smiled and was on her way
Jack
Does anyone know how to turn this into a poem? I think it has some potential
The Flower of Truly Meeting
A penny for your thoughts
...She took it!
beckoning me to watch
where she would place it
At the mall
in the plexiglass covered reception of charity
went my penny
and we watched it spiral
out of sight
She turned to me
just as clear
showing me where every word I spoke
was travelling
Moved to the depths
by the care she gave
every utterance:
"You are just as clear
and that
allows me to enjoy every word
I give to you "
How can we hold to such beauty?
I asked
That Golden Splendour
that flower that blooms for only one day
smiled
and was on her way .
I hope it helps you work more on this lovely poem Jack. Mat J.
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Thank you for this reworking of Jack's poem for one very simple reason... I now understand the meaning of his Golden Splendour flower reference.
I really like the way you broke it up for clarification and emphasis on various stages of their exchange. The only thing that I might suggest with your reworking is that the exclamation point be omitted and maybe replace it with:
She took it...
Even though her taking it may well have been a surprize, the remainder of the poem is so slow-motion and gentle, that the exclamation point is unnecessarily jarring. Their exchange came across to me as very gentle from the beginning to the end, including what was going on inside his head. [Or at least maybe that's the way I preferred to read it
.]
~ Lizzy
I really like the way you broke it up for clarification and emphasis on various stages of their exchange. The only thing that I might suggest with your reworking is that the exclamation point be omitted and maybe replace it with:
She took it...
Even though her taking it may well have been a surprize, the remainder of the poem is so slow-motion and gentle, that the exclamation point is unnecessarily jarring. Their exchange came across to me as very gentle from the beginning to the end, including what was going on inside his head. [Or at least maybe that's the way I preferred to read it
.]~ Lizzy
http://www.mobot.org/GARDENINGHELP/PLAN ... ?code=W210
Since this flower holds an integral role in the poem (and as a gardener-type myself), I looked it up the other day and found it is a "long lasting" lily, as opposed to a Day Lily.
Is there another type of Golden Splendour that fits the role in the poem or was it made up? Perhaps because it does have a lovely name?
Curious.
L
Since this flower holds an integral role in the poem (and as a gardener-type myself), I looked it up the other day and found it is a "long lasting" lily, as opposed to a Day Lily.
Is there another type of Golden Splendour that fits the role in the poem or was it made up? Perhaps because it does have a lovely name?
Curious.
L
Frere et jacque?
Dor mes vous
Excuse the terrible french, I am in an impish mood.
When I was Young.
When I was young I would bend down
to the ground, and place my lips to the puddle
formed from the Minnie cars tyre tread mark
Guiltily I'd sip at the glorious rain that had
accumulated just prior to my expedition back
outdoors, temporarily eschewed by rainfall.
Eyes were upon me, eyes always are
whether or not we admit in our heart to such
omnipotence, they graced me there with love.
There was no reflection the water though clear
whoever it was had barely a care of nothing more
than when taste and touch collided, with that echelon of fear
That ones actions were pure, or purely infringing
a trifle of matter in that cool morning air
to taste the earths dew, to refresh golden splendour
The young boy, or animal, at his moments reprieve.
Dor mes vous
Excuse the terrible french, I am in an impish mood.
When I was Young.
When I was young I would bend down
to the ground, and place my lips to the puddle
formed from the Minnie cars tyre tread mark
Guiltily I'd sip at the glorious rain that had
accumulated just prior to my expedition back
outdoors, temporarily eschewed by rainfall.
Eyes were upon me, eyes always are
whether or not we admit in our heart to such
omnipotence, they graced me there with love.
There was no reflection the water though clear
whoever it was had barely a care of nothing more
than when taste and touch collided, with that echelon of fear
That ones actions were pure, or purely infringing
a trifle of matter in that cool morning air
to taste the earths dew, to refresh golden splendour
The young boy, or animal, at his moments reprieve.
Labouring under the southern cross
Erstwhile
The car done crash
The house it fall in
The witness, the collision
The reckless abandin
The artist of Dionysus
The Sumerian catalogue
The partridge in the pear tree
The old man on the bog
Life, life, life.
It kept on movin
It did
It kept on movin
Still, now, here
Til when?
Til when?
My will it has deplored me
My mind onion eyes
My heart perversity titty
My groin a sun dance itch
Ah the will
Ah the time
Ah the heart of mine
Be true now
Settle and
Be true
The car done crash
The house it fall in
The witness, the collision
The reckless abandin
The artist of Dionysus
The Sumerian catalogue
The partridge in the pear tree
The old man on the bog
Life, life, life.
It kept on movin
It did
It kept on movin
Still, now, here
Til when?
Til when?
My will it has deplored me
My mind onion eyes
My heart perversity titty
My groin a sun dance itch
Ah the will
Ah the time
Ah the heart of mine
Be true now
Settle and
Be true
Unoriginal hey.
Spring Upon An Open Field
Open to the season
The moon sleeps
A butterfly with pollen wings
Open to the season
The moon sleeps
A butterfly with pollen wings
You are very right Lizzy. Why didn't I notice that?lizzytysh wrote:Thank you for this reworking of Jack's poem for one very simple reason... I now understand the meaning of his Golden Splendour flower reference.
I really like the way you broke it up for clarification and emphasis on various stages of their exchange. The only thing that I might suggest with your reworking is that the exclamation point be omitted and maybe replace it with:
She took it...
Even though her taking it may well have been a surprize, the remainder of the poem is so slow-motion and gentle, that the exclamation point is unnecessarily jarring. Their exchange came across to me as very gentle from the beginning to the end, including what was going on inside his head. [Or at least maybe that's the way I preferred to read it
~ Lizzy
I appreciate so much all this help with this writing which is dear to me.
Jack
I was thinking of the "Golden Splendour" being a one day blooming cactus flower but I could be wrong and do not know that much about flowers. But I got to that name by searching around google but I no longer feel happy with it. I'll tell you the word that I put into the search engine and maybe you can lead me to a better word.LaurieAK wrote:http://www.mobot.org/GARDENINGHELP/PLAN ... ?code=W210
Since this flower holds an integral role in the poem (and as a gardener-type myself), I looked it up the other day and found it is a "long lasting" lily, as opposed to a Day Lily.
Is there another type of Golden Splendour that fits the role in the poem or was it made up? Perhaps because it does have a lovely name?
Curious.
L
I put in cotyledon
with certain plants I think the cotyledon can be very short lasting and beautiful. I don't think it is a word known by a lot of people and I am thinking of how to describe an experience to be like a cotyledon that appears and disappears but will lead to something else in the future.
Any suggestions?
Jack
I liked the way that Mat took away the image of me holding a flower in my hand. How can you guys be so smart about this stuff? It seems so important that the beauty of a cotyledon be left right where it is. Thanks for helping me with that mat.lazariuk wrote:
I put in cotyledon
with certain plants I think the cotyledon can be very short lasting and beautiful. I don't think it is a word known by a lot of people and I am thinking of how to describe an experience to be like a cotyledon that appears and disappears but will lead to something else in the future.
This poetry business is just so difficult. maybe I should stick to computer technologies.
Jack
Thats not what makes my wrist sore. I go on the meditation retreat at the start of the last week of this month.JiminyC wrote:confessional versus stream of conscious, or so I'm lead to believe. to me it’s tragedy that i put this stuff up for people to read, but beats getting a sore wrist writing a journal! Jack have you gone on your meditation retreat? Hope you are travelling well.
Jack
Hi Jack ~
With this beautiful exchange and your poetic sensibilities in your framing of it... in addition to your expressiveness in other matters... I feel it's clear that, alongside your computer technologies, you need to incorporate poetry into your life.
These ideas are particularly lovely with regard to poetry:
~ Lizzy
With this beautiful exchange and your poetic sensibilities in your framing of it... in addition to your expressiveness in other matters... I feel it's clear that, alongside your computer technologies, you need to incorporate poetry into your life.
These ideas are particularly lovely with regard to poetry:
I think the cotyledon can be very short lasting and beautiful. I don't think it is a word known by a lot of people and I am thinking of how to describe an experience to be like a cotyledon that appears and disappears but will lead to something else in the future.
* * *It seems so important that the beauty of a cotyledon be left right where it is.
Yes... in your heart... and in poetry.It seems so important that the beauty of a cotyledon be left right where it is.
~ Lizzy
Jack,
You could work on the idea of the cactus being both prickly (hurtful to a sensitive heart) as well as beautiful for one day. They thrive in deserts (hearts unloved) hot days and freezing nights, are tough skinned and bleed juices when snapped....and so on....
This, of course may take away from the simplicity of your original poem and ruin it too.
But you won't know unless you experiment and see where it leads.
(Word processors are great for this as you just save each draft as "cacti 1", "cacti 2", "cacti 3" and so on. But, as I say, keep the original as "cacti 1".
Poems can be "worked on" for years without quite satisfying the author. And you can destroy any version you like, but not "cacti 1".
That is the game, really.
So: Always keep your original draft somewhere handy and never destroy it as you may go full circle and pick the original version in the end as your favourite.
Regards, Matj
You could work on the idea of the cactus being both prickly (hurtful to a sensitive heart) as well as beautiful for one day. They thrive in deserts (hearts unloved) hot days and freezing nights, are tough skinned and bleed juices when snapped....and so on....
This, of course may take away from the simplicity of your original poem and ruin it too.
But you won't know unless you experiment and see where it leads.
(Word processors are great for this as you just save each draft as "cacti 1", "cacti 2", "cacti 3" and so on. But, as I say, keep the original as "cacti 1".
Poems can be "worked on" for years without quite satisfying the author. And you can destroy any version you like, but not "cacti 1".
That is the game, really.
So: Always keep your original draft somewhere handy and never destroy it as you may go full circle and pick the original version in the end as your favourite.
Regards, Matj
"Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart." San Juan de la Cruz.
Rust
The D.J.
Await the hour of the crowing alarm d.j. jockette who warbles like a telephone conversation about the right time of the month to start re-watching Seinfeld whilst imbuing oneself into the salacious extremity of tower lifestyle; fear not the government who guns down humanity with the adroit ignobility of Humanitarian decree, they have your tickets and the Will, look not at your metamorphosis for his is more ugly and the bugs that you fear will consume you in your twilight are much more affectionate towards the other
Repress the syntax of oneself to redefine ego into a movement poetical in its poverty of passion, perspex pensions for the aged animals caged at zoo found land and purport punctuality to precise proportions whilst peppering the red calf hide interior of your small sports wagon, wheels wobble as you impress upon acceleration your fundamental inadequacy, that which your last suck and sickle lust bomb laboured you without,
Redeem your obliqueness into a solid state of sin so sinister that saints start unzipping their bags and destroying their poignancy in the next world, heaven needn’t wait for minds so civil, certified in sanctimony, such slabs of soul made of gold, grapple with grandiose gender gormless grafting gaggles of the past; our past is perfect imperfection as human hounds harness horses to hip hop hassle-free to Timbuktoo; and in no time at all you arrive at your office block ready to wage yourself another days reprieve from love until you might escape and call out woe
Is me, as I know not you.
Await the hour of the crowing alarm d.j. jockette who warbles like a telephone conversation about the right time of the month to start re-watching Seinfeld whilst imbuing oneself into the salacious extremity of tower lifestyle; fear not the government who guns down humanity with the adroit ignobility of Humanitarian decree, they have your tickets and the Will, look not at your metamorphosis for his is more ugly and the bugs that you fear will consume you in your twilight are much more affectionate towards the other
Repress the syntax of oneself to redefine ego into a movement poetical in its poverty of passion, perspex pensions for the aged animals caged at zoo found land and purport punctuality to precise proportions whilst peppering the red calf hide interior of your small sports wagon, wheels wobble as you impress upon acceleration your fundamental inadequacy, that which your last suck and sickle lust bomb laboured you without,
Redeem your obliqueness into a solid state of sin so sinister that saints start unzipping their bags and destroying their poignancy in the next world, heaven needn’t wait for minds so civil, certified in sanctimony, such slabs of soul made of gold, grapple with grandiose gender gormless grafting gaggles of the past; our past is perfect imperfection as human hounds harness horses to hip hop hassle-free to Timbuktoo; and in no time at all you arrive at your office block ready to wage yourself another days reprieve from love until you might escape and call out woe
Is me, as I know not you.