Diggings poems on Hello Poetry

CharlesC Dec 2011

Mining

Mining we do
for survival and art..
repeating processes
both ancient and modern..
beginnings are quiet
seeded by necessity..
badgers dig holes
earthen tunnels and paths
powerful digging discoveries
sustaining of life..
coal miners diggings
dark labor below
planting cities above..
data mining
a technology
new in our time
computer's patterns emerging
never before seen..
startling creation
of many new
wholes...

CharlesC Jul 2012

Vessels

canals and containers
vital constrictions to flow
these common constraints
we find widespread..
at start of each day
a humble cup we see
holding our morning tea..

those outward vessels
mirror many inside..
these carry surprise
in acquaintance..
not knowing 'til just now
their containment of
everflowing light..

our task..
with urgency now..
to focus awareness
on those vessels which
are ours alone..
we need a simple
introduction to those
avoided constrictions
each of us owns..
often painfully seated
in solitary places..

a dear friend's illness
with diagnosis fleeting..
in desperation at last
filtering years of
bedridden strife..
new awareness uncovered
a new container for her
illumined voice..
with gifts for many
journeys unfolding..

my own discoveries
from life's late
diggings
found vessels quietly
buried and residing in
military formations of
gold and gray and black..
these are holders now
of lights of new
scope and scale..

the vessels we own
are lined and defined
awaiting discovery
sooner or late..
illumined..
with healing in-sight
and we are enriched
in knowing
our vessels..our lights
are one...

accompanying photographs may be found at polarityinplay.blogspot.com..

Chris Weallans May 2015

M1 Junction 11

On the motorway
a signpost
to the place where last I left you

Behind a trap of traffic cones,
and excavated road-works
the junction lay empty and irrelevant

But I saw you there
in the spring evening
beneath the stone and clay and roses

I thought to sink into the rich deep earth
to find the rambling silk of your voice
and embrace you in your long stillness

Yet pulled away through these dark diggings
Improvements you will never see
ways you’ll never know by name

I trace my travelling years
And lose the thread of our short remembered days

Reza Raad Nov 2020

i hear ya

It's been a battle
you got hurt
and went unhealed for so long

sometimes it was a "friendly fire"
and sometimes you ended up losing a part of you in this war
they called it collateral damage
they called it
life

You might be wounded inside
I can't tell
because you've forged such a thick skin
an armor
that shields you against
all the judgements
sympathies
involvements
and the diggings
the diggings
that often turn into a scene
in which you throw up the passion you had for "focusing on the future"

i love that armor though
it isn't just a makeup
it's an identity
and rightfully it's not see-through
so, it's safe inside
I get it
I do

I wear mine every morning
or night
or day
I don't know
whenever I am up
I mean, down

Thomas Gagliardi Jan 2018

Emptyful

Nothing. is. real.
faces on the shaddowed clocks
and someday's sideways looks.
they know it.

knowing burns clean.
it lives in cracks of thoughts
on scraps of promised doubts.
you feel it.

feeling finds you.
frees you from the understood
to peel you of your vatic good.
embrace it.

touching begins.
stretch out your fingered hope
carress this hole inside the known
of lies so old they find a film of feelings
*****-scared-dark below the promised diggings.
open up the reel it's in.
unwrap it's torn cold linen.
it's what you're wanting.
clutch at what's within.

...and know it's Nothing.

Surbhi Dadhich Dec 2017

An elaborated narrator( The Trees)

Binded potential of yellow leaves
Bloom of the brightest flowers
Discipline of diligent ants
Self- sufficient soil of minerals
Emerald blood of infant diggings
Sweetness of splashy fruits
Medical stuff is in vain
Self- repairing is the aid
Independent of food
Clothing and Shelter
Independent of sympathy
Itself an elaborated narrator
A heaven for wings
No greatness reflect
Despite diamond qualities..

Lawrence Hall Nov 2022

The Weight of a Rifle

The Weight of a Rifle

                 I had quite forgotten the weight of a rifle.

                -C. S. Lewis to his brother, 11 August 1940,
                         upon joining the Home Guard

Despite the cold and the morning mist
Some of the fellows reported wild boars
Up against the tree line across the fields
So with my old rifle I took a walk

I found their feral diggings and rootings
And stood and listened to the autumn winds
Sighing in the tree tops, but there were no hogs
Robert Frost could have made something of it

I marched for miles in my merry youth
Laughing and singing by squad and company
M-14 rifles slung over our skinny shoulders
Our government thought this was a good idea

I found some bright-red holly-berries this morning
Which was more fun than shooting at hogs

Or at other men

Letters of C. S. Lewis, ed. W. H. Lewis, Harvest / HBJ, San Diego, 1966

Feral Hogs Attack and **** a Woman in Texas - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

Lawrence Hall Nov 2022

The Weight of a Rifle - 2nd attempt at posting

Lawrence Hall   Poems

1d
The Weight of a Rifle
The Weight of a Rifle

                 I had quite forgotten the weight of a rifle.

                -C. S. Lewis to his brother, 11 August 1940,
                         upon joining the Home Guard

Despite the cold and the morning mist
Some of the fellows reported wild boars
Up against the tree line across the fields
So with my old rifle I took a walk

I found their feral diggings and rootings
And stood and listened to the autumn winds
Sighing in the tree tops, but there were no hogs
Robert Frost could have made something of it

I marched for miles in my merry youth
Laughing and singing by squad and company
M-14 rifles slung over our skinny shoulders
Our government thought this was a good idea

I found some bright-red holly-berries this morning
Which was more fun than shooting at hogs

Or at other men

Letters of C. S. Lewis, ed. W. H. Lewis, Harvest / HBJ, San Diego, 1966
Feral Hogs Attack and **** a Woman in Texas - The New York Times (nytimes.com)

— The End —