"farflung" poems - Hello Poetry

on a farflung corner of the world beyond the frosty Urals, past the Saharan desert yonder, and the Himalayan walls of ice, and then a little while longer, there you’ll find me sleeping. or if you would ride a comet and streak through the Atlantic, land on the East Coast, and head west some more ’till you arrive at the Western shore, find a seastar and befriend it. Then traverse seven horizons across the infinite Pacific, there you’ll find me resting. here beyond the furthest dream beyond the faintest clouds i stand on sandy seascapes. away from all the broken people with their broken frowns and towns. this is a land of smiles and sunny skies where darkness and death cannot harm the relentless light in the brown of everybody’s eyes. on a little archipelago of pearls suspended from the stars by strings like a toddler’s mobile as it swings, the heartbeats of London, Paris, New York, LA, or Rome: pictures in a fairytale book here at home. I am very very far away where all my life is an echo sounding in tropical sunsets: rosy and pink and sinking like a reverseblooming rose lighting up the Manila Skyline.

0

Dec 15, 2012

Dec 15, 2012 at 12:16 AM UTC

brian-sarfati

Manila Skyline

on a farflung corner of the world beyond the frosty Urals, past the Saharan desert yonder, and the Himalayan walls of ice, and then a little while longer, there you’ll find me sleeping. or if you would ride a comet and streak through the Atlantic, land on the East Coast, and head west some more ’till you arrive at the Western shore, find a seastar and befriend it. Then traverse seven horizons across the infinite Pacific, there you’ll find me resting. here beyond the furthest dream beyond the faintest clouds i stand on sandy seascapes. away from all the broken people with their broken frowns and towns. this is a land of smiles and sunny skies where darkness and death cannot harm the relentless light in the brown of everybody’s eyes. on a little archipelago of pearls suspended from the stars by strings like a toddler’s mobile as it swings, the heartbeats of London, Paris, New York, LA, or Rome: pictures in a fairytale book here at home. I am very very far away where all my life is an echo sounding in tropical sunsets: rosy and pink and sinking like a reverseblooming rose lighting up the Manila Skyline.

36

Lost in an unfamiliar home, deep inside a book In the comforting glow of that lamp that stood... Standing to attention in that gloomy nook The words jumbled & spun on that page So I slammed shut the book Above me burned a coil of tungsten Blazing bright White And from it Every angle burst its miracle of light Beams/ waves destined for far off places But shackled by the shade Mocked by the tasselled trim Harnessed by the braid My mind wanders... It is a marvel of our age That we choose to create lamps so bright that they need a shade That they need to be shaded Those lamps can't shine so bright For without the shade the dark won't creep in and we wouldn't be aware of the night. I step outside Into that night Shadows cast by the city street lights Down that dank alley Lives an uncelebrated man In a tattered box with faded damp Barely noticed Camouflaged To most he's just another jaded ***** If only they could see He They We Individually tailor the shade for our lamp Privately (inside translucent shields) we all burn bright. Shaded by fear and notions of what's wrong and right Right and wrong Wrong and right Creations of those that had the strength to fight Not by the humbled, battered and bruised Too shaded to raise a blazing revolutionary fist Too fractured, hungry and confused Afraid of the attention caused from cries for any justice Instead Inside my head I imagine I have my own bed A good book An cosy reading chair And a lamp standing to attention with its thousand-yard stare Staring out to the ever rising seas Cometh the great submerging eviction Mass migrations fleeing war, famine & filthy camps Oceans rise and tears fall with whispered benediction How many of you will become degraded tramps But we just keep insisting that it is farflung fiction Back to my box and its faded damp Silhouettes of four impatient horses appear on an windswept horizon. This false paradise we live in with its twisted ergonomics? Should we really sit and wait for the catastrophes to appear? Surely we are collectively able to create a smarter economics? Or is it just easier continuing to accept living in fear? Because when all is accounted for All the pros and cons have been weighed What matters most Is not the brightness of your lamp But your choice of shade.

0

Mar 21, 2016

Mar 21, 2016 at 6:55 PM UTC

shaded-lamp

The Shaded Lamp

Lost in an unfamiliar home, deep inside a book In the comforting glow of that lamp that stood... Standing to attention in that gloomy nook The words jumbled & spun on that page So I slammed shut the book Above me burned a coil of tungsten Blazing bright White And from it Every angle burst its miracle of light Beams/ waves destined for far off places But shackled by the shade Mocked by the tasselled trim Harnessed by the braid My mind wanders... It is a marvel of our age That we choose to create lamps so bright that they need a shade That they need to be shaded Those lamps can't shine so bright For without the shade the dark won't creep in and we wouldn't be aware of the night. I step outside Into that night Shadows cast by the city street lights Down that dank alley Lives an uncelebrated man In a tattered box with faded damp Barely noticed Camouflaged To most he's just another jaded ***** If only they could see He They We Individually tailor the shade for our lamp Privately (inside translucent shields) we all burn bright. Shaded by fear and notions of what's wrong and right Right and wrong Wrong and right Creations of those that had the strength to fight Not by the humbled, battered and bruised Too shaded to raise a blazing revolutionary fist Too fractured, hungry and confused Afraid of the attention caused from cries for any justice Instead Inside my head I imagine I have my own bed A good book An cosy reading chair And a lamp standing to attention with its thousand-yard stare Staring out to the ever rising seas Cometh the great submerging eviction Mass migrations fleeing war, famine & filthy camps Oceans rise and tears fall with whispered benediction How many of you will become degraded tramps But we just keep insisting that it is farflung fiction Back to my box and its faded damp Silhouettes of four impatient horses appear on an windswept horizon. This false paradise we live in with its twisted ergonomics? Should we really sit and wait for the catastrophes to appear? Surely we are collectively able to create a smarter economics? Or is it just easier continuing to accept living in fear? Because when all is accounted for All the pros and cons have been weighed What matters most Is not the brightness of your lamp But your choice of shade.

66

3.36 found my eyes open Alone in a bed, a drought amidst Cracking thunder and abusive rain. My farflung thoughts dodged droplets As they struggled to reach you. You were dancing with Jupiter, Quickstepping through asteroids and waltzing over elden craters Creasing the face of our peaceful watcher of the night. As you passed by, I Reached for you, attempting to defy the tethers at my feet. I glanced down at them--realized they looked like hands; Hands I knew held me from you as if You were some toxic drug and they were doing so "For your own good," like they would know What good you could do for me. Can they not feel my desert heart Nor see rain forest eyes? You were scheduled to return yesterday, Then today, then hope slipped from my scope Pointed to the stars, searching for your Blazing trail of fire. The sky is dark. Still I say my prayers That, in your brilliance and splendor returning, The pyre consumes you not.

0

Apr 21, 2015

Apr 21, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC

justcaleigh

Sequestered Empyreans

3.36 found my eyes open Alone in a bed, a drought amidst Cracking thunder and abusive rain. My farflung thoughts dodged droplets As they struggled to reach you. You were dancing with Jupiter, Quickstepping through asteroids and waltzing over elden craters Creasing the face of our peaceful watcher of the night. As you passed by, I Reached for you, attempting to defy the tethers at my feet. I glanced down at them--realized they looked like hands; Hands I knew held me from you as if You were some toxic drug and they were doing so "For your own good," like they would know What good you could do for me. Can they not feel my desert heart Nor see rain forest eyes? You were scheduled to return yesterday, Then today, then hope slipped from my scope Pointed to the stars, searching for your Blazing trail of fire. The sky is dark. Still I say my prayers That, in your brilliance and splendor returning, The pyre consumes you not.

24

Didn't you hear it Insistent pounding A distant rave Or, more like, thrumming A steady motor Regulating Growing deeper Doppler shifting Must be moving Ever further Exploring Retreating Heading for some farflung meeting A severed murmur Faintly familiar But... Did you not hear it

0

Feb 21, 2020

Feb 21, 2020 at 8:46 AM UTC

TheDurhamScribbler

Didn't You Hear It‽

Didn't you hear it Insistent pounding A distant rave Or, more like, thrumming A steady motor Regulating Growing deeper Doppler shifting Must be moving Ever further Exploring Retreating Heading for some farflung meeting A severed murmur Faintly familiar But... Did you not hear it

17