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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: DividedQuantum] 3
#23299955 - 06/02/16 01:39 PM (7 years, 7 months ago) |
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Willow
Reaching out, Already beautiful. Steps in fault, Carried mute. Through slender trees, Wait and see, To find a clearing, A way that's free.
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: pineninja] 3
#23305148 - 06/03/16 09:22 PM (7 years, 7 months ago) |
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This thread is pretty epic guys! Inspiring stuff. 
Udgitha
Treading time, Breath and sound, Never pierced yet Through the mouth.
Sattva glanced, blinking long, The sun is old, and leaves her song. With each day ahead, reprieves belong, Already beautiful, not waiting long, Not waiting long.
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: pineninja] 2
#23374069 - 06/23/16 03:00 PM (7 years, 7 months ago) |
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Grrrrrr wheres the poet, people, Penny for your thoughts, A pallet of epistrophes, Waits sullen in your stocks.
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: DividedQuantum] 3
#23908058 - 12/08/16 06:41 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Nostalgia
My inner dialectics... Seem not to be a complete prospectus. I mean by that, I seem to see only now, the new plastic form Was somehow in the faultline of my past.
The particular then, within the whole, Sub Specie, familiar genera, aeterni And an earth always pregnant with form to contain her. It seemed all organic and whole, even if it would have had also to split open.
What innocence was it, For a past gone from itself For the being of beings, a presence to come to present, Disseminating seeds of what I remember now? An old hermit's way, is in matter and form, Coming to a new world's mind and body... But what it is itself, we've placed together, seems to me something in our hands more delicate.
We raised up even our elders' forested eye, Knocking on the doors of our own notions, If not by wisdom, but of our own, Seeking what before was in simple alms.
And the way I see it, what granted once shapened form, Holds still the same, only now somehow to occlude itself. We follow our sconces now to that openness, the hinge to the doors of our perception, This living panel of what must now somehow stand, must now again be what is opened, to what it gives.
We bring much to this new philosophical subject! All our dimensions, And all the facts, of utterances, From this new prospectus of a singular consciousness... We ourselves, bring the new world its concept and notion; Which surely this time, now, must grant a pass!
But the door which goes to the law, Elicits not from any one, And stands ironically so, since it seems to be for us1; And so how great, a violent profundity must we be? And how excruciating would it tear us to part? And yet near the crack of this door, By the sight and sound of a warm hearth of nostalgia, A possibility seems, I'll come again, and learn once again to be brought.
1 As Kafka wrote: "Before the Law"
Edited by Kurt (12/09/16 06:10 PM)
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: pineninja] 3
#23919784 - 12/12/16 02:18 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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I'm on the vibe with complexities for simplicities sake... And the strangeness; which hopefully does not toil too much? Strange in common lands 'abustle.
(Wayfarer)
We are often a-thought, to pass too far, To bridge a stranger's stay, But in ourselves to live a day on nods, We'll know our farer's way....
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: ModestMouse] 1
#23919848 - 12/12/16 02:35 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Gotta admit akira's got a knack for those
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: ModestMouse] 1
#23944619 - 12/20/16 09:02 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Ha, good one DQ. I actually laughed out loud in a moment of insight! Inspire Heraclitean, philosopher's muse!
...The river I stepped into once, is gone, for it is this, now this, As lightning courses through all, it cannot miss. Beings on hills aflame, the wise hold no wrists, For there's no echo to this moment, when One, all, is.
Edited by Kurt (12/21/16 02:10 PM)
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Reprobate420] 2
#23950443 - 12/22/16 10:45 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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The word, a word followed, is a seemless trace, A thought, once met, like a discontinuous face, But sleep, dream, she'll put us aright, all okay, Your well, is well lined it pours to night, till day.
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Kurt
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Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: pineninja] 1
#23950454 - 12/22/16 10:50 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Quote:
pineninja said: Everything we are resembles flow. The terrain of existence over which we glow. Ripples of interactions, chaotic in form. Waves on turbulent waters conciousness storm. On which Philosophical boats sail, laden with spice. Understanding the river is never the same twice. The drip of words squeezed from a mountain of thought. Have to pass through the filter of what we've been taught. Take away the restrictions by forces unseen. Come closer to free form being. Flexible fluid and never fixed. Changeable reality forever mixed.
Über chill
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Kurt
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Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: beforethedawn]
#23952576 - 12/23/16 06:53 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: beforethedawn] 3
#24024401 - 01/19/17 10:32 PM (7 years, 9 days ago) |
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Wanderlust...
She was no good to you...or you too her... Said she was going to be a healer... Was she? With healers there is no such thing as your irony, remember. Just a past and then future with that openness in the middle.
What was it, that she swayed like that, waiting for the bus from the hostel. There was no song, just something that had continued on in both directions, that time.
...
Being in the world, We live many lives. Doubting never, the lives passions live, Meeting less to their ends, as they part.
Far a-foot, over hills, would I still follow the sunset hearth? To pad on blades of grass of poets past, Living on little, and learning short term friends, How a world beared much more, than a fruit, I'd sought.
Born of earth, split in two each morning, Feeling in my calves - listen, "the way of the way is not the way"... Your motions, I don't believe more or less in. I only have a-head for what I didn't understand before.
In dreams ride slow and smooth on the trains of indefinable ways. I'll never know their way, but as a smooth line fading in and out. I ride next to the waves on the cliffs on the west shore, By a lighthouse, for the way's way beyond.
Edited by Kurt (01/20/17 12:26 AM)
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: DividedQuantum]
#24024608 - 01/20/17 01:03 AM (7 years, 9 days ago) |
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Quote:
DividedQuantum said: The Bodhisattva
Sitting beneath the bo tree The Buddha contemplated And what precipitated Was a way to make men free
As teachings split in various ways Mahayana, Theravada, Vajrayana Monastic truth -- not Hinayana! The newest order says:
"When a master approaches the gate His quest for glory must yet wait He cannot but commit himself To a compassionate fate"
The bodhisattva thus was born He is aware of being aware And now he must yet ever dare To tread a path ill-worn
Putting common people first This Great Vehicle's creed Nirvana but a stepping stone To quenching all their thirst
Anicca and Anatta studied Dukkha --suffering -- transcended Yet more Samsara rescinded Relinquish all the waters muddied
Without permanence, without soul A quandary ensues Isn't self one of the truths That matters at the goal?
A bodhisattva remedies Such grasping attachment Practicing detachment The practitioner sees
Relinquishing such bliss As such a one must do To teach, to render through Is like a golden kiss
Only after all creation Has entered through the gate Only at this hour late
Does the anointed one exit his station
Wheres the Darmha at?
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: DividedQuantum] 2
#24037217 - 01/24/17 08:34 PM (7 years, 4 days ago) |
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The Machinist
Trapped in the head, Locked at the hips Choking the heart Thinking that he held a piece. But of the life he took away, There was no release.
Edited by Kurt (01/24/17 08:51 PM)
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.

Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Reprobate420]
#24093980 - 02/15/17 09:03 PM (6 years, 11 months ago) |
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Nice rhythm Cruel finish, But here's to hoping, Is it our poet's end?
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Kurt] 2
#24094073 - 02/15/17 10:00 PM (6 years, 11 months ago) |
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The Panopticon
A thinking man once said to me I should trip through my head, by he, Of whose single eye it was thought, that sees. ... "Have faith in this omniscience" said the repeater, For there are many of us self reliant believers... And heed the cycloptic curses on any deceiver Whose way is tossed upon seas to leave us.
linky
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Kurt
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Registered: 11/26/14
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: czech] 3
#24408798 - 06/15/17 07:54 PM (6 years, 7 months ago) |
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Nostos
Being the fool, on my way, not just in my gathering place, Not in my fathers' domain, or my wandering pace, And not any ritual forms, tie a name to explain, A harsher or sweeter valley, of memory, to which I came. Where the sun has its hills, and moon her face, As a seed, and what comes up, balanced together in a trace. Where I didn't ever leave, But take something with me when I go, As only a fool's messenger will tell you so. So I learned to carry this home, away from my home.
Edited by Kurt (06/16/17 07:45 AM)
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: demiu5]
#24409698 - 06/16/17 07:57 AM (6 years, 7 months ago) |
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Quote:
demiu5 said: i haven't written much in years, and especially no coherent emotional expressions (poetry or lyric), outside of exploring thought patterns oft-intwined with or inspired by political banter, internal or external. however, a devolving pub-thread, coupled with an overarching attitude here on the shroomery (and ultimately, pervasive through this life), inspired this, or at least, the first line, with which i slept upon, and awoke, to run away with this morning, and share:
Narrow-Minded ------------------
there is no trigger, bullet, gun
there is no powder, resin, air
there is only change waxing- wane
is nothing stable not hate nor love?
does love deserve more sylla- bles?
could you believe you could be- lieve?
is 'selfishness' your last held tool?
do you curse the sun burning you?
it morphed greatly over the hour it was written, but i'm very pleased with it. there is much detail hiding among very little.
I followed that.
Keep posting. You can't drain the swamp, only alchemize it.
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: Green7Alchemist] 2
#24429078 - 06/23/17 12:09 PM (6 years, 7 months ago) |
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Time's Mountain (Up Ahead)
He sets himself, as her now to follow, Along a gentle and familiar way, Further up this path, he'll go tomorrow, The mountain offering its same but final stay.
Three years, I've bridled my horse, Joylyn, unbroken. As I hope to go her strong heart's pace. Bound to freedom, and greater promise unspoken, She'll leads us to our place.
It's the same old story of friends for you, These worn bodies by the road, always one and two. Because like them we go where our lives lead us, The fires burn on for seekers.
Edited by Kurt (06/23/17 02:17 PM)
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: czech]
#24501926 - 07/23/17 12:28 AM (6 years, 6 months ago) |
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Nice take
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Kurt
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Re: The Official Post Your Own Poetry Thread. [Re: ModestMouse] 3
#25499322 - 09/29/18 09:12 PM (5 years, 3 months ago) |
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Always Seeming Above.
Choice said it was more than the leaven path, To go where paths trail and flow. To come, to still, the rippled moon nascent, A pointing finger, again thought to know...
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