Treading lightly the path to enlightenment.

Posts tagged ‘word poems’

Trip A

Winter Sun

Winter Sun

 

My car has an odometer you can reset. Actually it has two, Trip A and Trip B. How you can have two trips at the same time in the same car I’m not quite sure.

Trip A reminds me of my life. Not the past, but the whole span including the inevitable end. This is it.

There is no Trip B in life.

Whatever I’ve done is done, and can’t be changed, taken back or undone.

Whatever I am to do I have this one life, this one trip, my Trip A.

When I was young I thought it was important to be someone, be something. Make your mark.

Funny how many songs written by twenty-somethings address life-view topics, including aging.

“Will you still need me when I’m 64?” written by twenty-somethings McCartney & Lennon.

You won’t find lyrics or poetry written by mature and senior wordsmiths addressing the angst of “will you be mine forever” or “my heart is broken and will never heal”.

Old poets write of the long view. The view from near the finish line.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

As we grow nearer to that end gate, as we fulfill our promises made, we see our lives as a wondrous play that has had a record run. From our own silent mind, gazing out through eyes that have seen a fair share.
There is a certain comfort and confidence in our selfness.
I, alone in this island of body & mind, eternally isolated from all others, have a sense of being a part of something much larger.
There is no alone.
There are no guarantees that you will be mine forever or that I will be here for you when you are sixty-four.
In this we share. The rules are the same for you as they are for me.
My horse may think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near.
Between the woods and frozen lake.
The darkest evening of the year.
And Trip A just keeps moving forward. Mileage rising.
And I have miles to go…
Seek peace,
Paz

Snowstruck

Snowstruck

Snowstruck

I don’t know why

I was reminded of you by this

Gently falling silent snow.

 

As it softly caresses the Earth

I remember how you

Made me love you

So many wonder-filled

Years ago.

 

Downy Flake

Downy Flake

 

Pazlo

The amazing brain, and You 2’s reign

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If you haven’t fully realized this yet, you should be aware that there are two of you.

There’s You you think of as you, the you that thinks conscious thoughts, makes conscious decisions, and the like.

Then there’s the second you, in Armchair Zen world referred to as You 2.

Perhaps a number of other psychometric or philosophic names are given to You 2. The alter ego, the Id, the sub-conscious, etc.

I’m no expert on that stuff, so we’ll just talk about You 2 as if you know what I mean.

Folks talk about how we only use six percent of our brain’s capacity, or something like that.  All that brain tissue in there and we’re not really sure what it does. Real science has discovered some wonderful stuff with machines examining brain activity. Others have done volumes of work studying the subconscious, the “unused” sections of the brain, ways in which the brain functions, etc. You should read that stuff some time and see if it interests you.

Meanwhile, let’s look again at your amazing brain, and its ability to work just fine without (or in spite of) your conscious efforts! Actually, we’ll be looking at your brain working the way it’s supposed to, which is really amazing and uses (in my opinion) most of that space much of the time.

One of the most amazing things about our species is spoken language. Clearly, the ability to assemble a bunch of symbols like the ones you’re reading now, and having others, many others, be able to receive information from those symbols, is a great advantage. This allows us to teach one another without every lesson being one-on-one in real-time, the way other animals do. In fact, even the one-on-one teaching of other animals pales in comparison, as purely visual lessons can be misunderstood or missed entirely.

Some written languages, Chinese as an example, use a picture symbol for each word as opposed to words made up of letters. We think that it must be difficult to learn all those symbols and remember them, recall them as they’re needed.

Cut to the fun stuff! Okay, here’s a little exercise that will have your amazing brain amazing you in minutes! In past presentations, we’ve talked about your brain’s ability to take in information, seeing, hearing, feeling, and so forth, and retain those events for retrieval later.

(See Archives: Creativity & seeing Nov.2012, Seeing 2: the amazing brain Dec. 2012, You can predict the future! Dec.2012, You times two, Apr.2013)

Now we’re going to discover a cool way to “bait” your brain and make it retrieve stuff from that vast mass of gray matter in your head! This is really simple, so that’s why we had to get all the good descriptive dialogue and such out-of-the-way first. Here’s the drill:

I’m going to give you a trigger word, and you’re going to have about a half-dozen words on average come flying in to your conscious brain from the subconscious side!

How? Rhyming. Yes. I’ll give you the first word, but after that you can pick any word you want (except orange) and your brain will instantly provide you with rhyming words!

So, maybe you think this is infantile, a game played with second graders to improve their literacy. But if you stop and smell the amazing roses, you’ll find your brain (or You 2’s brain) is lightning fast with this. It really is amazing when you get on a roll! Okay: here’s your trigger word. Count how many rhyming words you come up with in about 30 seconds. Most folks, with most words, will almost-instantly produce about six rhyming words. That’s your instant-fast brain. There’s much more in your brain, but You (not You 2) need to “send” a request to get more. After your initial six words, start actively thinking and let your brain find other words that rhyme. that’s where it gets really fun, as you start to think of multi-syllable words, words in foreign languages, and homonyms that sound the same but are spelled differently. Ready? Here’s your first trigger word, think of rhyming words for:

HOLE

You’re already amazed I bet!

I got the idea for this post from something even more amazing! I am an armchair poet and singer-songwriter. If you write or read poetry, or even the verses on greeting cards, you’ll know that this uses meter, a number of syllables that are the same length as other corresponding lines in the poem or song. Not all poems (or songs for that matter) follow a meter, but it’s the most common. Written music, another set of symbols that amazing brains can learn, read and instantly decipher, is set to a specific meter, in beats or bars if you’re familiar with the terms. You can try this, too, and be even more amazed at your amazing brain! Make up a rhyme. Let any words at all come into your head and just let it flow. Some of the lines will be somewhat nonsensical, but you’ll be amazed at how quickly your brain can come up with ideas that fit the meter and rhyme the end word. (Called end rhyming, not unnaturally)

I’m going to start a silly diddy. You can use the same line to start with. I’m going to let my brain write the next three lines and I’ll leave them in the post just the way they came out.

I went outside on a beautiful day.

Hoping to find someone to play

And run with me through fields of hay,

And send my cares off and away.

Okay, so my brain stopped me and made me backspace the last line, but I threw this up in about twenty seconds!

Try this! It will make you appreciate your brain’s speed and power! (It won’t make You 2 appreciate anything, as far as I know. typically You 2 thinks it knows everything already. More some other time on why You 2 brain thinks it is always right, when it argues with itself, and why these things are healthy as well as amazing!)

Be at peace,

Paz

 

I see angels

Living, breathing angel

The boy fell to his knees, his face dropped to his hands.

What was I to do, being just a mortal man?

I said “You’re at the end of your rope, son, not the end of your road.”

Sometimes we need to help a broken angel with their load.

 

I see angels all around me. Angels you can see.

Living, breathing angels right where they ought to be.

This whole world’s full of angels, from sea to shining sea.

It’s a world full of angels waiting for us to let them be.

 

A man clutched my hands as tears welled in his eyes.

I said “There are no words. We’re never ready to say goodbye.”

Most folks don’t know that sometimes angels need a hand.

He said “No one knows my pain. No one understands.”

 

I told him “There are angels all around you, angels you can see.

Living, breathing angels, right where they need to be.

It’s a world full of angels, from sea to shining sea,

A world full of angels waiting for you, and me.”

 

I see that little baby, sleeping in her bed.

See the days and weeks and months and years that lay ahead.

Her mother and her brother, and all her kith and kin,

This whole great wide world around her, all the same beneath the skin.

 

I see angels all around me. Angels you can see.

Living, breathing angels right where they want to be.

It’s a world full of angels, from sea to shining sea.

A world full of angels waiting for us

To set them free.

I just don’t want to argue with you any more

Into the fray

Please show me the way to make peace with your heart.

How do I stop this thing? How do I don’t let it start?

How do I know what to say? How do I know what I said?

When do I shut my mouth and keep it all in my head?

I just don’t want to argue with you any more.

I just don’t want to quarrel with you any more.

I just don’t want to fight with you any more.

I just don’t want to argue with you any more.

Can’t see my light, can’t plot a course.

Can’t navigate through the regret and remorse.

I’m trying to rise to find a better way

but it all gets entangled in all that we say.

What if I don’t argue about it any more?

Chilled to the bone, burned from the heat.

Cold as a stone, I’m dead on my feet.

Do I laugh like a fool? Do I break down and cry?

Do I fall to my knees? Do I lay down and die?

I’m just not going to argue with you any more.

Just not going to quarrel with you any more.

No, I’m not going to fight with you any more.

I’m just not going to argue about it any more.

Just not going to argue with you any more.

I just don’t want to argue with you any more.

Hindsight

Ah, my heart aches for

days gone by.

When thoughts raced past me

like rabbits in headlights,

and I was

young and timeless.

In Depth of winter

Tug Hill snowIn these, our bitter days of winter,
As bare trees stand, their feet cold in the snow,
Above our heads icy northwinds blow,
And from our eaves hang frozen crystal splinters.

Let us then retire to our rooms,
Where we’ll sip hot tea and clasp our hands,
And know the warmth of love still stands
As overhead the winter rage looms.

No embers of wood, nor burning coal,
As the fire radiates its heat,
Upon our faces, upon our feet,
Can, as the heart, warm the soul.

December 30 first

December 30 firstAll around lie the remnants of summer and fall,
These dry brown grasses, the tall and the small.
Each conifer stretches, the low and the high,
Each stretches, in vain, its limbs to the sky.

The sun hangs low in it’s arc, non-chalant,
Neglecting her earthbound petites enfants.
Cold comes to slumber and lumber around,
Packing the earth to hard frozen ground.

Smoke from chimneys dances and twirls,
Having never seen the summer world.
I shutter the window, and put logs on the fire,
As I patiently wait for the year to expire.

As into the pink night sky sets the sun,
Another year ends, as another’s begun.

October Piece 2

Ah! To be that Canada goose and see through those geese eyes,
That patchwork carpet below arrayed,
All nature’s vainglorious color displayed,
As I fly through blue-gray October skies.

Ho! To be that white-tailed deer,
Who browses ‘mongst the elms and pines,
And walks the tumble-down rock fence lines,
As I bid the first snowflake “Appear!”.

O! To be that fox of the glen,
Who seeks all manner of food and forage,
To fatten his flanks with winter storage,
When the drifting snows surround my den.

Alas! To be that little boy,
Raking leaf piles, carving pumpkins,
Stuffing a scarecrow country bumpkin,
Anticipating Halloween with joy.

August Piece

August slips through my back door lush and green,

An unremarkable event on the season-changing scene.

She feigns summer convincingly by day,

But by night, thoughts of summer quickly fade away.

Ironically, she is a metaphor of herself.

Inviting Autumn in, making room for

Summer on her pantry shelf.

Paz

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