"carrier" poems
She carries her burdens across the back of a child.
Rightfully hers to bear but her mind has gone wild.
Scarred grows his mind afraid of life so uncertain.
But she couldn't switch the soul of the carrier of her burden.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
My essay, Changency, is a meme
This meme has been growing inside of me
I've been a carrier
Many of us have been
I'm not a benevolent character though
I've been purposely placing the memetic material on blankets
And leaving the blankets in local trading posts
I call these 'trading posts' bookstores, universities, colleges, schools...coffee shops, pubs, restaurants, etcetera
The beautiful thing is that these memes aren't really on blankets
The memes are encoded on the backs of knowledge, truth, and authenticity
They come from a place of pain
Evolution can be painful (but does it have to be?)
Three dimensions are easy to comprehend
Four, sure just add time
What about spacetime?
And a fifth dimension...I don't really know what that means...but some do and they're watching, listening, waiting, and loving us
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Aquarius ♒️
~~~~~~~
Aquarius the symbolism for the water carrier.
Quite an important member of our community
Under spells by an association of the heart
Aquarian crystals are Garnets and Amethyst
Rainbow moonstone, Labradorite, Magnetite
I would buy thee Lithium Quartz ,Moss agate.
Under your care placing Crysoprase n Cryolite
Some Rainforest Jasper for love of this lady.
~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip
December 18th 2018.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Little bits of litter blowing everywhere,
Is it that we are carless? Or maybe we don’t care.
Bags and bottles ******* of every kind,
A simple picnic our ******* left behind.
Bottles of all sizes floating on the pond,
If left on the beach will travel far beyond.
Polystyrene boxes used for burgers or chips,
Are float on our ponds like little litter ships.
But worst of all the dreaded carrier bag,
Hang from wires and trees like a kind of flag.
Just to make sure we spread it far and wide,
Cars are used to carry debris to the countryside.
Now that we have spread it from coast to coast,
We are a famous nation because we litter most.
Fish and chips were sold wrapped in newspaper,
You could say part of a natural recycling scheme.
Pop was bought in bottles with a paid deposit,
Kiddies for pocket money collected to redeem.
Litter is not pretty it will not go away,
Soon we will have nowhere clean to play.
Maybe if we learn to take our litter home again,
We would see the trees and flowers,
Down our English country lane.
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 12:25 AM UTC
i.
Happy birthday, diaphanous balm,
Mayest this span of time greeteth
Thee; with Good health, and loving
Psalm's.
ii.
Maligayang Kaarawan, archaic
Gem, mayest thine smile brush-
Stroke the aisles, of carbuncles
Of never-ending friend's.
iii.
Bon anniversaire, mon amour,
Mayest thine Satin-silk moonlit
Eye's, be a guide to the deaf and
Blind, mayest the heaven inside
Thee, be the richness of the poor.
iv.
Harúmena genéthlia, Earl, like
The lost and hidden pearl's,
Mayest the luster of thine
Memories, be kept safely
Locked, under thumb and key,
To openeth later, in sanctity.
v.
Penblwydd Hapus, Filipino
physician whom hath saved
Mine life, soul-mate, Queen,
Wife, mine bearer of this heart,
Mine carrier of all that's right.
The beam of nebula delights,
The diamond in mine might,
Mine-Queen, O' Jane
Mine Wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
Hades,
God of the dead
King of the underworld
And all of its shades
The Unseen,
Giver of Wealth
Keeper of the hound Cerberus
Brother, one of a grand trio
With sisters of wonder
The renowned wealthy one
Judge of the dead
Mighty ruler is he
Keeper of mortal souls
Great is he
Upholder of the balance
In the kingdom below
Mortals, how they tremble
At his sheer power
His word is his command
Strong is he, astounding among the gods
God of peace for the deceased
Upholder of funeral rites
Defender of burial rights
Due onto the dead
Regal is he
The all-receiver
Blessed is the abundance
Of wealth he bring
Mysteries of the dark
Oh great one
Whom mortals hold
Both honor and fear
Whom many indeed revere
Divinely dark
Hands upon the earth
Reaching far below
To his realm, his domain
Sacrifices to him,
Offerings to the King
Whom ride in chariot of gold
Drawn by four horses immortal
From his kingdom below
The legends that did grow
Carrier of the scepter
To guide the shades
With his power and mystery
Thousands know his name
The God Hades
- Jay M
October 5th, 2021
Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 1:28 PM UTC
We die momentarily
When dear ones depart us
But we are reborn
with their energies
transferred to us
and may be
they live in us,
through us
Provided
we are worthy
of being the carrier of
"their" lives..
for what
they stood
in their lives,
the values they fought for
the virtues which they cultivated ...
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
I am a copper wire slung in the air,
Slim against the sun I make not even a clear line of shadow.
Night and day I keep singing--humming and thrumming:
It is love and war and money; it is the fighting and the
tears, the work and want,
Death and laughter of men and women passing through
me, carrier of your speech,
In the rain and the wet dripping, in the dawn and the
shine drying,
A copper wire.
6.4k
Persephone,
Goddess of spring
Queen of the underworld
Bringer of death
And life anew
Bringer of light
Powerful and knowing
Darling maiden to ancient Queen
Truest display of duality
All that one can be
Magnificent in all she is
Of divine wonder
Mortals, how they marvel
At her strength and might
And her astounding grace
Upon the mortal world
Goddess of delicate care
Blessed is the fertility she bring
To a world when birds sing
Flowers to bloom, blossom
Into the beauty of spring
Bringer of plenty
Venerable one
Whom many hold high
The Great Goddess
Divine maiden
Hand in the land of the mortal
And the other far below
Decisions made, legends abound
Over sky, seas, and eager ground
Carrier of fertile seeds
To grow and for the world to know
Of her power and wonder
Thousands know her name
The Goddess Persephone
- Jay M
October 5th, 2021
Oct 5, 2021
Oct 5, 2021 at 12:16 PM UTC
Who is the carrier of the mist?
Who is the harbinger of justice?
I wonder how many sweet reeds
There are that blow in the wind?
The fog, dividing the big square.
The mist, forming a circle.
An encircling protection.
The night has its shades.
We have seen the good mist
Positively rolling along the open field
Towards us
We who make the camaraderie.
“Oh, now that’s a good mist”.
The mist, the fog. Wet dew
Of sustenance
With hope, I bow to you.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
I tromped across North America a few years back
Following the Mayan Elders
Listening to the powerful Lakota Brothers sing songs of mourning and joy
Building community
I was following a White Cherokee
We created clan
I was motivated by the teachings of the Anishinaabe
And represented Thunderbird Clan
We stopped in sacred spaces such as Serpent's Mound
And Cahokia Mounds
We peered briefly through the veil; Samhain
I followed the red path and eventually found I had always been on it
I met Hopi and Navajo elder's
And my friend Sea, a pipe carrier brewed a special tea
I was gifted tobacco that had been grown from seeds
Recovered from an iceman's medicine bag
She transmuted the ancient tobacco into a tea
By folding it into a sweetgrass and cedar brew
Sea gave it to me in a basic stainless steel carafe
Every time we drained the carafe
I refilled it and the essence was just as powerful as the previous brew
When I finally caught up with the Lakota brother's in Sedona
Their voices were raw
We all were
I shared the tea with them
So much magic on that journey
The joy on those brothers faces as the tea reached their throats
I gave them the carafe and told them
It was the gift that keeps on giving
Their thankfulness has been the gift that keeps on giving
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
I stand apart from the rest, I stand at the last line of defense, I stand in the way of what every player wants most, I am a dream wrecker, A monument killer, every puck is a threat, every puck carrier accomplice. I defend my net on the principle that it is my home and that nothing comes in uninvited, every save I make fuels the next, every crease I protect is my own, I am satisfied only after I stop everything.
I am a goalie
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
He was brought into the world in poverty, in confusion, into a world of conflict and pain all of which was not his fault, all of which had nothing to do with him. He was conceived in love, but by the time he was born love had passed and all that was left was isolation and two separate parents trying hard not to acknowledge that their life together was over.
I remember the many walks we took together, my son and I. He was so little and I carried him on my chest facing outward in a baby carrier and he learned how to “steer me” by pressing a foot against one of my thighs so that I would turn in the direction he pressed and he could see better what it was that had caught his eye.
We walked all summer and he learned to love a certain stray cat, garbage trucks, fire engines, and motorcycles. We found and explored, it seemed, every construction site in the city and I taught him the miracle of the sunflowers that bloomed in gardens of new life so big it made us think that, perhaps, this beauty that we shared could be enough and, perhaps, could make up for the everything else that was not. When summer ended and the sunflowers went away, I assured my son that it was all right. They would return again in the spring. I had really thought they would.
One day we walked on a devastating autumn day, the trees an explosion of colors, the afternoon deliciously crisp with a slight chill in the air. We were late and in a hurry to get home. Suddenly, he stopped me and turned me to see, what? I looked and, at first, I couldn’t see what it could possibly be. Suddenly, I saw. A breathtaking autumn leaf tumbled through parabolas of time now forever present, forever tumbling now for me to contemplate, there forever for me to long for, suddenly awakening our shared beginner’s mind, a moment that will resonate forever, long after the pain of many quiet afternoons without him fades relentlessly into the everlasting October light that leaves behind so many painful, unanswered questions.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
In white water lilies ;
Miniature specks of radiant light
Swim in clear water of minerals, nestled by honey brown soil of nourishing elements
Engulfed by inner petals of delicate but impenetrable comfort
Transported by wise ripples along a translucent rectangle
Eager to drop off the water-fall edge of the plane
To fall as rain and unto its chosen carrier
Of whom shall be called its mother
Waiting to start developing physically after the essence of the mother's choice is fused with her very own jewel
The essence belonging to whom it will call father.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
*she just shakes her head
she meets me on the street-corner, me from work, she from dance,
in the grayling dusk of a thank god it’s a freedom Friday night,
I greet her with words semi-adventurous -
“come with me, few errands to run, keep me in good company”
to the candy store we go for to purchase my weekend eve
lottery tickets and blow-pop lollipops, just in case some
kids appear, a surprise omen as they come
trick-or-treating just before Thanksgiving
the Bangladeshi candyman calls out a long prayer
in his native Bangla
she asks “what’s that he’s saying?”
“Oh, just wishing us a pleasant Sabbath and
may his gods smile upon our good lottery fortune”
she just shakes her head, from side to side
emerging from the store, walking home in the
now doubly ***** darkly dusk,
a set of white teeth from a passing shadow-man says to me
“you’re home late and have a great weekend,”
she asks, “who is that?”
“why,” I reply, “that is our very own personal postal carrier’
she says:
“he delivers mail to ten thousand people all in buildings tall,
yet knows your name, your face,
where you buy your lottery tickets,
your coming and going hours,
how came that to be”
but waits not for an answer
she just shakes her head, from side to side
I show her my secret entrance to our apartment house,
the fast route to collect our mail, dry cleaning in one fell swoop
a secret door, secret elevator taking us directly to our apartment
a secret elevator which is under the direction of
Bimal from Nepal,
who I greet in Nepalese, (my tutor)
I, asking after Brian and Bryce, his 100% American boys
now she says nothing, but before our door, as I go key digging,
she just shakes her head, from side to side
later she says:
“let’s order in, apprise me of your expertise,
some exotic fare from Manhattans First Avenue,
known for its aphrodisiacal powers
afterwards,
you must tell me each dishes name,
in its tongue’s nativity,
but much, much later,”
and as she speaks, grinning,
she sticks out her tongue,
while she just shakes her head,
but this time,
up
and
down
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
I dated a girl, a pretty gal
I dated her and her pooch pal
You had to like her dog Pogo
You had to, or it was a no go.
She took the thing everywhere
And never in a pet carrier.
It was sort of a turnoff to me;
A kind of no-intrusion barrier.
Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t get no *******
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.
She had the ugliest mutt
That I ever saw before
Like a brown **** rug
That was left outdoors.
It snuffled through teeth
That were hideously parted.
I thought it was stuffed
Until the creature farted.
Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t get no *******
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.
I got nothing against animals
And I really do like dogs
But they should look like pups
Not chimera or warthogs.
I’d overcome the boundaries
Whenever I got the chance
But that ugly canine lump of fur
Put the kibosh on romance.
Scoochie up to poochie
Or you I wouldn’t get no *******
Otherwise I was a pimple.
It was really just that simple.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Iss daur ka jamana
jane kaha manana
Ek daur aisa tha bhi
Jo sapne the dikhaye
Pura kisi ussi ne
Jisne wo sapne laye ||
Ek daur aaj ka hai
Jo galtiya ginaye
Khud ki nigah me wo
Kabhi khud ko dhundh paye
Kahta hai waqt ab ye
Thoda carrier banaye||
Wo juthe-muthe waade
Kyu usko hai dikhaye
Jite ji mar rahi wo
Leke teri aadaye
Chahat ko bhul baithi
Dene lagi duhayee||
Jo kaash jaan pati
Waade jo tune ki thi
Jo puchti kisi se
Aankhe naa aaj roti
Baat waqt ki hai pyare
Sab aaj hai tumhare
Ek waqt aayega jab
Tum jaljala uthoge
Mai aaj roo rahi hu
Leke teri aadaye
Ek waqt aayega jab
Tujhe denge sab duhayee
Phir puchnaa kisi se
Teri galtiya ginaye
Jo khud pe roo pada tu
Khud ko hi maaf karna
Naa bolna kisi ko
Kiski lagi lagi duhayee||
Iss daur ka jamana
Jane kaha manana ||
||||
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
A girl sat alone,
Counting the raindrops
To occupy her mind.
Hungry, but too pensive
To do anything about it.
On the windowsill,
She saw two little ants,
But not as she had seen them before.
One of the ants was carrying the other
Across the trickles of water.
Where they were going,
Only the pair knew.
She pondered what must be so great,
That the one ant should ford
Sprawling, frigid rivers
With another on its back.
It would have been easy to smash them,
To free them from their struggle,
But her hands wouldn't move.
She looked closer, and realized
That the ant on top was dead.
The carrier crawled along, unfazed.
She stood up and walked to the kitchen.
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 12:56 AM UTC
I am the Lorax, who once spoke for the trees
In the hope of bringing progress to its knees
But now I have grown somewhat older and tired,
My outlook and thought process being rewired
(Sometimes to see forest, you must clear the trees.)
Examine the case of the Brown Bar-ba-loots
Whose interests for so long I worked in cahoots.
Could such timid beasts truly thrive in the wild
So innocent, trusting, submissive, and mild?
(My former assertions I strongly refute.)
Why, see how they frolic and scamper in zoos;
How can one watch them and steadfastly refuse
To see how much better their lot is today
As joy for our children as opposed to prey
(A happy condition where no one can lose.)
Ah, scoff the nihilists, *but Truffula Trees,
Those havens for birds and those homes for the bees.
Why, what do you say now that they are all gone,
Removed to make way for some suburban lawn?*
(These angry young men—O Lord, take them all please!)
I gently remind them it’s just nature’s way,
That some species go while other ones stay,
The carrier pigeon’s no longer alive
Yet somehow we manage to live—indeed, thrive!
(In the face of brute logic, they’ve little to say.)
So don’t be dismayed or frightened or leery
Of doomsday projections outlined by theory
Suggesting that our time on this earth may be done;
Consider the caged Bar-ba-loot having fun
(And we hear fish do quite well in Lake Erie.)
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
How could I spell out love when it is absent of her name?
The way her eyes reflected a sunrise, the envy of Eos
She was like honey in the sky, the amber of her energy enraptured me
I was bewitched
She was a masterpiece drawn with starlight, unfathomable beauty
An ivory sculpture crafted by the hands of a god, masterpiece of Hephaestus
I remember the time I was blessed by that smile,
A vilified promise
The scent of patchouli and the taste of my favorite tea
Like ambrosia for a mortal, that sweet taste of paradise
Sunflowers and the many other favorites that she gave me
Stolen without a word
She used to call me late at night to talk about her day
But the days for me got longer, I couldn't keep her entertained
Such a coldness hid underneath the warmth I thought she gave me
Gone like a ghost in the night
I thought I was breathless because I loved her, now I’m suffocated by the agony
She was killing me underneath the sweetness, constricting like a boa
And when I close my eyes to see the memories lapse she's still in them
Haunting me like she wanted
Eros' is golden arrows struck me hard and shamelessly
Through my heart and left a scar, chasmic and wide
Her toxic serotonin left me high, addicted to her energy
A limitless euphoria
I spoke to the gods above and I told them of my love
What a liar she's made me out to be, the clever snake
I begged that Aphrodite let my words reach her
But they fell on deaf ears
Now I pray that Anteros relieves me and hears my plea
Unravel these feelings in my heart, lift the anchor of her name
Don't let me be the sole carrier of the blame
For the ruin that remains
Nov 7, 2021
Nov 7, 2021 at 7:42 AM UTC
I went for an X-Ray the other day. My name was called
and after the expected delay, I heard a nurse say
Right knee? I said Yep! She said “Come this way…
Can you get your trouser leg up to your thigh"?
I said “No… these skinny jeans don’t go that high”.
“In that case” she said looking me up & down... with a frown
Pop in that cubicle… and put on this gown!
For a start…it took me ages to get these trousers off…
and force the rest of my stuff into the carrier bag supplied
and then, when I saw the gown, I very nearly died!
It would have fitted me just fine if I’d been 18 again
but the gaps and bulges in the thing were a farce...
and allowed everyone in the corridor to see my fat 71 year old ****
I said out loud when I sat down again in the queue
“You know…I had an inferiority complex before I met any of you.
But this has definitely taken me down a notch. And I apologise about the view”.
However, inside the X-Ray room with all the techie kit and Radiographer Rob,
I felt better… The pain in my knee had almost gone apart from a distant throb.
Then he said “You’re completely safe, just lie back calm, quite still…serene”.
Whilst he clicked the shutter from the other side of his lead lined screen. (So he was alright then!)
Well, I’m home again now, hobbling about… It’s bearable (not like childbirth ladies) but not great.
I’m sitting here with my leg up waiting for the letter that will let me know my fate.
Ah yes… men and pain! There is a well know fact about the differences between the sexes.
It’s proven that, with men, colds become flu…and ailments:- epidemics… (No really!)
So, here’s the letter… Now...will it be Ointment? Physio, to transform a permanent slouch?
Or a keyhole flush with a catheter? Or - Oh no!…
For me - it’s a titanium replacement knee!… Ouch!
Somebody pass me that gown!!!
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 6:09 PM UTC
Everybody knows today's figures.
Lincoln Park. Kanye West. Beyonce.
Musicians. Artists. They are all praised in today’s society.
But nobody knows the names of people who actually matter.
Willis Carrier. Invented the air conditioner.
Nobody knows his name.
Robert E. Kahn. Made the internet.
Nobody knows his name.
The problem with today’s society
Is that the minds of young people are being poisoned.
By the schools who leave things out of textbooks.
By the people on the street, screaming their views.
The riots, the protests, the hell of today.
Poisoning the minds of young people.
Reed Hastings. Marc Randolph. Nobody knows them
Yet millions of people use Netflix.
SalvinoD'Armate. Nobody knows his name.
Yet over 4 BILLION people wear eyeglasses.
Young people today hate history.
They think, “Why do we need to learn about dead people?”
George Santayana once said:
“Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it.”
We learn these things, not to be bored in history class.
Not to just **** time in the day.
But to inspire. To help young people to become creative, more innovative.
Imagine a world, where Alexander Bell never made the telephone.
Imagine a world, where the internet, just wasn’t a thing.
Imagine a world, where nobody invented new things.
William Higginbotham. I Guarantee that nobody in this room knows his name.
He created the very first video game, Tennis for Two, in 1958.
Without him, we would not have the games we have today.
Assassin’s Creed. Grand Theft Auto. Call of Duty.
People play these games, and use the other things I’ve listed every single day,
And they use them without any thought, or appreciation for where they came from.
Or how far we have progressed as humans.
So I ask you this. Who invented the desk you are sitting on?
Who invented the jacket you’re wearing?
Who invented that pen in your pocket?
You don’t know, do you?
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 1:52 PM UTC
What if I could find Heaven
Amidst my own way?
Would you condemn me to your Hell
Tomorrow?
If my soul could wash with the wind
And my heart could soar the skies,
Would you quarantine my unique spectrum?
If I could sing with the full moon
Or dance to the soul of fire,
Would you claim me a hedonist?
Or would The Tower of Babel block the barrier
Needed to perceive you and I as the same soul carrier?
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC