"intuiting" poems
Stirring morning
Open eyes then feel… open ear starts to listen… open mind learn humbly to think and to grasp… open heart with passion to feel… (Continue quietly breathing in and out)… "What that feel deep inside?"
Sensing and intuiting, searching with all feeling and wits, while heart and mind still clear and unblemished.
Attempting to fly off into the morning wild blue yonder. Once again, no ponder souls' supposing… only relinquish… go beneath the core of being human: "What that feel deep inside me?"
At the culmination, golden morning rays teach, to experience the surrounds as they are, as gold as they are naked… as warmth as they should be… allow diminishing self-image first to be humble… then I might cloth being in the present and be a friend with I am who I am…
"What that feel deep inside me?"
And I know…
When…
There will be…
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
That's the most beautiful thing anyone said about my writings.
I love you too for saying it for reading for caring and intuiting it's my truth..
Your poetic profile name Paris is beautiful
Paris is engraved in my soul from another lifetime
a DEJA_VU to me it seems
Although several great poets love my work too you expressed how it helped you be better person.
Surely what you've written
helped me profoundly too.
Sorry if my questions were irelevant insomnia does that to me I rush the second thought
not the spontaneous first.?
I must learn this virtue.
Assume most likely I have been reading all of your work
from my memory bank.
Do not fear me I do not betray
anyone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Paris Hlad: commented on,
"Deity Mine Thee."
"I think this is favorably reminiscent of E.B. Browing - "Whoso loves,
believes the impossible."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Answer-
Elizabeth Browning makes a great poetess.
I am here with my old Scarlet Letter A memorized old scripts learning how to read and write myself.
To me anything placed in God's hands apeaces
"Whoso loves believes
the impossible."
I am after the opportunity to speak up writing about my inner truth my life.
For what I regret most is
what I didn't say back them to change my life.
but disclosing ones truthful innermost feelings is apeacing.
I learned from you that one has only one quick small chance if ever given one, to communicate effectively to let a dear one know they matter dearly.
What's impossible with men is possible with G**. is apeacing
~~~~~~
Paris Hlad commented on:
"Ratoncito blanco,"
To Karijinbba:
Thank you for your kind words.
I have read a bunch of yours, and I believe I am a better person for having read them.
You have more than wisdom on your side - You have truth and a deep understanding of the existential paradigm, which is to say that you think about much bigger themes than most people do -
A true artist."
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dear...Paris Hlad
Thank you I am no artist
just sharing a long overdue truth
So welcome read me thank you.
I am truth an open book. Eternally greatful.
~~~~~~~~~
Feb 23, 2020
Feb 23, 2020 at 9:04 PM UTC
“*I suppose I will never lead the ordered life my father led.
And I’ll never live in the kind of house he lived in, with its rituals,
its dignity, the smell of polish.*”
Leonard Cohen
<>
the orderly of an individual life,
guided by the guardrails of family life,
superimposed upon it by a calendar of religion,
that layers into you with a cyclicality of communal ritual,
that rules, guides, tides and hides you subliminally, the individual,
in ways that forever alters how one comprehends the meaning of
belonging
the oven~heated, banging smells of the kitchen,
the hubbub, frantic sounds of a Sabbath eve prepping,
vacuuming house cleansing, far more than just a cleaning,
the young boys in their jackets, white shirts, for Friday night
candle lighting, the girls in Sabbath frocks, assisting Mother,
but by
Saturday morning sermon time
those boy’s shirts
were always untucked, sweaty and always less white,
from running around outside synagogue from playing Ringolevio,
for which you were justly critiqued by a mother’s glare-stare
this play-within-a-play poem,
played out in homes nearby,
for community was very defined by geography,
and the candles of Sabbath oft visible in every home as
Fathers & sons returned home from Friday Night services
where the Sabbath’s peace was welcomed like
a new bride.
but the knowledge that this scenario was occurring in
homes around the world in almost identical custom,
lent a larger perspective to even the youngest, of a
belonging
As for me, I passed on that life,
not as well as it was given to me,
but as best I could, or honestly, desired,
but because I the individual inherited these
ways, words, knowledge and sensations and deemed
failing to transmit would be a grievous denial of a heritage
were I to not gift them this order,
the dignity of these rituals,
the pungent smell of a polished home,
a life of intuiting
belonging,
be longing.
Feb 18, 2024
Feb 18, 2024 at 10:09 AM UTC
The two gates are open me
Normality, and chaos
I know my feathers well
Shifting between colours
My eyes hide guile. I slide
Between worlds, intuiting social rules.
I am not proud or humble
Except for when one suits me
For normality requires a yoke
And it important to find one
At your size. And chaos,
Is just that, chaos
Unbound, the ultimate hubris
Of an individual, creative will
Which, like slender candle
Scorches itself to nothing
Out, out, burn, burn
Leaving only a pile
Of melted wax it calls art.
So do not
Fear your dual
Nature and be
Not trapped in
One or the
Other. Cross bridges
Of darkness and
Cleave to light.
There is no
Truth in this
Cosmos but that
Of ‘all thing
Are’ and no
More.
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 3:15 AM UTC
Dust and bits and pieces of metal, water and heat
..wait...is that a soul in there as well?
does this morass perceive me at all, or do I see it only?
A robot only in the sense that it isn't emoting or intuiting or showing empathy.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 9:27 AM UTC
seeping art intuiting in our time.
My time, existing while others
struggle, my life has passed thus far,
with little efforting on my part, low ambition,
what good can I do
beautiful nets, Arpa to Darpa, through my time,
crossing all faith's propagation lines, living long,
on a single strand that ties all things in mindtimespace.
our jointed articulated mind frame with windows,
the old … mindshare bubbles in bubbles paradigm;
William Blake painted his visions but failed
to make plain the lies he believed, because all are
cloaked in the grand cloud of all no one needed to know,
until our eyes ^ 10x'd Galileo's and Newton' s
up and down,
and around and around,
we twisted, till the sun shined through…
did that ever really happen to you,
or did you see it at a drive in, with an easy girl,
every body knew, knew the drill, an easy lady
later made famous,
after a series of booms in economic terms,
good pay working on future warfare,
nobody could afford, until, somebody
ran the numbers, attention value,
glimpse the ox,
that gets it going, all the way to the ride,
But where is the bull that was that ox,
in a previous purpose?
Feb 3, 2024
Feb 3, 2024 at 8:10 PM UTC
it's strange--
like dancing together
after the music's stopped.
miles apart.
the sound of a house
settling, alienated furnishings
binding together for a home.
the dance slows, anticipating
hesitation.
intuiting those that crammed
fear into uninhibited space,
for some measure of step.
control.
so she stretches her neck to
get a glimpse of him as if in a
crowded room--feeling virtually
smothered.
he never loses sight of her...it's how
she'll trust in being drawn to him.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
"A stitch in time saves nine"
is proverbial
"Inchworm measuring the marigolds"
is a song
Snippets remembered
from days long gone by
built by a poet
intuiting a story
imagining an ending
a prize-winner
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 6:38 AM UTC
laying on air i trusted
in the falling crucifix--
as the long cosmic night
bore a tree from my heart.
wind wept holier and
holier spirit thru seasonless
leaves.
i was torn apart in moment
expanses, as gasp penetrated
gasp--newly formed foundation
spread an impossible strength.
intuiting circle-bound masters
whispering finis to engolden
The Great Work.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 1:01 PM UTC