Poetry For One
Poetry For One
The River Cannot Go Back
It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.
Kahlil Gibran
It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.
Kahlil Gibran
- accelafine
- Posts: 5042
- Joined: Sat Nov 04, 2023 10:16 pm
Re: Poetry For One
Strange the way so many poets drink themselves to death or are addicted to drugs in general.
-
promethean75
- Posts: 7113
- Joined: Sun Nov 04, 2018 10:29 pm
Re: Poetry For One
"I'm now making myself as scummy as I can. Why? I want to be a poet, and I'm working at turning myself into a seer. You won't understand any of this, and I'm almost incapable of explaining it to you. The idea is to reach the unknown by the derangement of all the senses. It involves enormous suffering, but one must be strong and be a born poet. It's really not my fault" - Arthur Rimbaud
Re: Poetry For One
The dripping of moments is cooled by dispassionate moonlight as the bondage of toil is given release by the passing storm of life and the translucent soil of the soul is watered from this conflict only to spring for flowers scented by a lighted hearted hope that where seeded through the sift of time within time. All is made known for a moment before the darkness sets in leaving an subtle ache within the heart that truth exists and all that was needed for it blossom was a short moment of contentment.
Re: Poetry For One
In search of Me
'' This is me,
Me is me always,
Me means me,
Me is searching I,
I searching for Me,
If me is I and I is me,
Then who searching who?
Searching of I,
Searching of Me,
When search begin, seperation begins,
When search stops, seperation stops.
Now Stop.
I is me, me is I.
Stop. ''
'' This is me,
Me is me always,
Me means me,
Me is searching I,
I searching for Me,
If me is I and I is me,
Then who searching who?
Searching of I,
Searching of Me,
When search begin, seperation begins,
When search stops, seperation stops.
Now Stop.
I is me, me is I.
Stop. ''
-
Impenitent
- Posts: 5774
- Joined: Wed Feb 10, 2010 2:04 pm
Re: Poetry For One
I search for what I am and the search becomes what I am as cycles within cycles unfold, I am but a cycle of time within time walking along the road of distinction.
A journey through seas of sand, water and woods a myriad of forms take place all given place to flourish by an unknowing mind measured according to the staff of intent I carry.
A form here, a form there, forms within and through forms, such is the mystery of existence of which there is no parallel.
The shear magnitude exposes my vulnerability, the minute movements display my strength.
Such am I, but a mortal man, in the center of it all and yet absolutely nothing.
A journey through seas of sand, water and woods a myriad of forms take place all given place to flourish by an unknowing mind measured according to the staff of intent I carry.
A form here, a form there, forms within and through forms, such is the mystery of existence of which there is no parallel.
The shear magnitude exposes my vulnerability, the minute movements display my strength.
Such am I, but a mortal man, in the center of it all and yet absolutely nothing.
Re: Poetry For One
That is because they are hypocrites and try to escape the vanity of the existence that they also try to display in words.accelafine wrote: ↑Sun Jan 12, 2025 6:06 pm Strange the way so many poets drink themselves to death or are addicted to drugs in general.
Re: Poetry For One
For all those neglected geniuses who can't even write a decent quatrain, it's the usual way to posthumous fame.accelafine wrote: ↑Sun Jan 12, 2025 6:06 pm Strange the way so many poets drink themselves to death or are addicted to drugs in general.
Re: Poetry For One
Thinking
Of what is beyond thinking
Is still thinking.
I gave up thinking
And I am Here.
Of what is beyond thinking
Is still thinking.
I gave up thinking
And I am Here.
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Impenitent
- Posts: 5774
- Joined: Wed Feb 10, 2010 2:04 pm
Re: Poetry For One
far away in Colombia
dangers in the jungle
beverage would flow
this Valdez never sank
his likeness was seldom seen
he used to pick coffee beans
Juan
-Imp
dangers in the jungle
beverage would flow
this Valdez never sank
his likeness was seldom seen
he used to pick coffee beans
Juan
-Imp
Re: Poetry For One
“ In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they're still beautiful.”
Re: Poetry For One
Maybe when we are getting on in years Eternity feels better to us.Fairy wrote: ↑Sun Jan 12, 2025 5:15 pm The River Cannot Go Back
It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.
Kahlil Gibran
Re: Poetry For One
It's normally history that judges whether a poet used creative imagination or not.Dubious wrote: ↑Fri Jan 17, 2025 4:13 amFor all those neglected geniuses who can't even write a decent quatrain, it's the usual way to posthumous fame.accelafine wrote: ↑Sun Jan 12, 2025 6:06 pm Strange the way so many poets drink themselves to death or are addicted to drugs in general.
Re: Poetry For One
I felt eternity at the age of 6Belinda wrote: ↑Thu Jan 23, 2025 1:05 pmMaybe when we are getting on in years Eternity feels better to us.Fairy wrote: ↑Sun Jan 12, 2025 5:15 pm The River Cannot Go Back
It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.
Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.
The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.
Kahlil Gibran