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Thread: The Poetry Thread Re-Booted

  1. #46
    Retired Member Nepal
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    Before the cross

    Before the cross
    the old tailor
    with bone hollows
    staring at the bodies
    without seams

    Under the willow mirage
    he held stars in the palm

    Among the clouds
    the sun shone up
    the face
    of the shadowless

    They were given a livelier dream
    but did not wake up

    Desert seeds
    stigmatized life
    On the assembly line
    they sold souls for a glass bead

    I stepped into the cross




    ---
    Disclaimer: I am not a professional translator in any way, so I don't know how much I lost in translation. When I use my mother tongue I am extremely careful when choosing the exact right synonym for each and every word, catching the precise nuance. I also often use "poetic freedom", so many times I don't even find a word in english. Now I really and truly understand why you should always read a book in the original language!
    Last edited by InCiDeR, 25th April 2015 at 08:16.

  2. The Following 4 Users Say Thank You to InCiDeR For This Useful Post:

    Ciauzar (22nd April 2015), john parslow (22nd April 2015), Spiral of Light (22nd April 2015), zera (26th April 2015)

  3. #47
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    Message From Higher Self

    Springing forth in golden light
    Rending through mindless chatter,
    A message from my higher self
    On an important matter.

    Attention is now focused
    Upon the message clear.
    Though not expecting it right now,
    I’m happy that it’s here.

    Stated in an artful prose
    With presence that is awesome,
    Making sure I have no doubt
    Where this message comes from.

    I know You now. That is clear.
    I know when You have spoken,
    Interrupting mundane thoughts,
    Through daydreams cracked and broken.

    And I question now how often
    Throughout our history
    Have You spoken in my ear
    With no response from me?

    Too overwhelmed and busy
    With matters of daily life,
    To hear You in those days gone by.
    And, for that I suffered strife.

    Thank You for your message now
    I know You as I hear it.
    My welcome friend with sound advice,
    Honored Presence and Bright Spirit.

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    Ciauzar (24th April 2015), InCiDeR (22nd April 2015), john parslow (23rd April 2015)

  5. #48
    Retired Member Nepal
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    Bridge of compassion

    The never-ending river of insanity
    when holy men
    carved cross
    into terrorized rabbit eyes

    The scorched smell of indifference
    burned at the stake
    to those contented

    Evaporated tears
    rose up
    to weave a bridge of compassion
    where we could walk
    without fear

    A crystallized drop
    contained a whole universe
    but was carried in the shadow
    of the excised




    ---
    Disclaimer: I am not a professional translator in any way, so I don't know how much I lost in translation. When I use my mother tongue I am extremely careful when choosing the exact right synonym for each and every word, catching the precise nuance. I also often use "poetic freedom", so many times I don't even find a word in english. Now I really and truly understand why you should always read a book in the original language!
    Last edited by InCiDeR, 25th April 2015 at 08:16.

  6. The Following 3 Users Say Thank You to InCiDeR For This Useful Post:

    Ciauzar (24th April 2015), john parslow (24th April 2015), RealityCreation (25th April 2015)

  7. #49
    Senior Member Catsquotl's Avatar
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    A shelter made of dreams abandoned.
    Keep me safe on distant shores.

    Sights and sounds eternal beckon me to be.
    Come my friend let's share some tea.

    With Love
    Eelco
    Have a great day today

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    InCiDeR (27th April 2015), john parslow (25th April 2015)

  9. #50
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    Another oldie:

    The Devil’s Footprints

    On one peculiar precipitous night in February eighteen fifty five,
    A dense and heavy fall of snow in the south of Devon arrived,
    In the towns of Topsham, Lympstone, Exmouth, as everyone asleep,
    Teignmouth and Dawlish in a cloak of white were buried deep.

    On waking, village folk saw thousands of strange foot-tracks on the roof,
    Bipedal steps at eight inch gaps all with a convex cloven hoof,
    Over five parishes they extended covering an area of one hundred miles,
    On tops of houses, high narrow walls with palings - even over styles.

    They covered local gardens, enclosed courtyards bounded by walls wide,
    Vertically up drainpipes tall, up fences and down the other side,
    And trails would suddenly stop as if the creature vanished into thin air,
    Right in the middle of open fields as though it landed or flew from there.

    The locals were shocked to discover the tracks of an animal so strange,
    A mysterious creature endowed with the power of ubiquity and such range,
    Approaching and retreating many dwellings but no resting place was found,
    Only cloven-hoof marks on two legs were left as markers on the ground.

    Rather than navigate a straighter course possible for any creature to follow,
    It steered the most complicated of climbs over every acclivity and hollow,
    The greatest excitement was caused among all classes athwart the land,
    The superstitious believing they were the marks of Satan or his band.

    So what did happen on that night in early February eighteen fifty five?
    Some thought it could be E.T. beings, others thought it best to hide,
    The testimonies of hundreds were printed in the Times, so long ago,
    As to what the creature was on a spree that night - perhaps we’ll never know …


    © John Parslow 26th December 2011

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    RealityCreation (25th April 2015)

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