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Quotes about ness, page 9

What Poem Will The Night Lead Me To?

WHAT POEM WILL THE NIGHT LEAD ME TO?

What poem will the night lead me to?
The silence says ‘none’.
I remember too much
Inside I am afraid
I hear nothing but closed- in- ness
So much world waiting
And I cannot go there—
How much time is left for me
To delay away my life in?
I cannot do the work
I cannot save my own work
Of all that I have done
Little or none will remain
The stars say it does not matter
And all we are small we are will go away
But I here loving so much
Cannot say no forever yet
To my dreams-

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The Best Book In The World

the best book
in the world
the only true book
is the world itself
the Book of Nature


the best book is the silence
the wordless-ness in
the clouds and the sky
and the rivers and the oceans
and the lands
and the grass that breaks through the concrete;
and in the deserts and the volcanoes
and the stars
and the moon
and the creatures of the earth
and in all fellow beings
and the vastness beyond
and the vastness within

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This lonely soul...

This lonely soul meanders,
And looks for the other half to it's soul,
To fix all these pieces,
And make it a whole.

The lonely soul wanders through life,
Wondering just how to live,
Because of so much loneliness,
It's oneself that the lonely soul cannot forgive.

Alone and not knowing what to do,
Except just let the mind pass,
Thinking about the impossible-ness of not knowing,
Just how long this will last.

Walking through life,
As if everything is okay,
Feeling so wistful,
And wondering maybe, just, one day……

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I Want You Near...

From the bottom to the top I give it!
Beginning from a structure started solid.
Making sure each step...
Has been given a concrete-ness.
Before I choose to take a breath...
I allow a thought process,
To happen next.

With deliberation I rest to sit.
Knowing,
From the bottom to the top I give it!
And motivated with that determination...
To have you examine what it is I offer.
Discovering an addiction only I can fix.
When you find yourself,
Freed of foolishness!
That's not my 'bag'.

Nor is mediocrity suitable for the mix!
I want you near...

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In search of beauty

Why is it so?
That beauty is an unfathomable mistress?
…like the uncertain truth…
Of a certain paradox…

The beauty of joy,
Is in its irony.
The beauty of smile,
In its tear.

The beauty of desire
Is in its incompletion.
The beauty of a poem,
In its vain-ness.

That of emotion,
In its numbness…
That of sorrow,
In its convalescence.

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Whisperings

Come closer
and whisper to me
from deep within.

I listen because your soul
speaks to me in quiet
pillow breaths;
its soft tones
are decibels
to my open heart beating.

Come close as I anticipate
ecstasies quietly rendered;
Yours and Mine.

Soft tones meditate
and separate
True-ness from background noise.

Come close because

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The Temptation Of My Body By The Spilled Milk On The Floor

i watch a beautiful body
sprawled on
a white carpet
floor

the floor is sturdy
in age
reddish

it looks like fire
as i gaze for long
salivating

milk lots of it spilling
seeping on the cracks of the
aged
planks of red hard wood

i salivate like a dog imagining
a set of bones

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Dismantle Ev'rything

Dismantle ev'rything; let's start again.
Let's rebuild the fields of their detritus,
The domestic debris caused by callous
In the money-minded hearts of bad men.
They'll advertise progress and change, but when?
When will they really deliver us this?
When it's become viscous to their bus'ness?
Tell me: will any of us be left then?
As all the streets lump and line with garbage,
The fish swim in estuaries of sludge
And the air you breathe makes you suffocate,
We've made all humanity a hostage,
Yet I, like you, prefer to be a judge
When it seems like action will come too late.

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Howard Nemerov

Gyroscope

This admirable gadget, when it is
Wound on a string and spun with steady force,
Maintains its balance on most any smooth
Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes.
It is whirled not on a constant course, but still
Stands in unshivering integrity
For quite some time, meaning nothing perhaps
But being something agreeable to watch,
A silver nearly silence gleaning a still-
ness out of speed, composing unity
From spin, so that its hollow spaces seem
Solids of light, until it wobbles and
Begins to whine, and then with an odd lunge
Eccentric and reckless, it skids away
And drops dead into its own skeleton.

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Profounded-Nouned-Ness

The 'light' has always been there.
Perhaps it takes 'aging' for some to become aware of it! ?
Nothing in nature has remained the same.
It is constantly 'evolving'.
Some have accepted this as 'change'.
While others hope their observances,
Will remain for them a repeated cycle.
We are just replacements.
That's it!

'Hmmm...
A 'poem'?
I think so!
I'm just so 'full' of 'profounded-nouned-ness'.
lol.

Of course my wonderful sister, Mim, would say,
'Yeah! He's full of 'it' alright! '

Inspired By:

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