"lowness" poems
Be Lost In The Call
Lord, said David, since you do not need us,
why did you create these two worlds?
Reality replied: Oh prisoner of time,
I was a secret treasure of kindness and generosity,
and I wished this treasure to be known,
so I created a mirror: its shining face, the heart;
its darkened back, the world;
The back would please you if you’ve never seen the face.
Has anyone ever produced a mirror out of mud and straw?
Yet clean away the mud and straw,
and a mirror might be revealed.
Until the juice ferments a while in the cask,
it isn’t wine. If you wish your heart to be bright,
you must do a little work.
My King addressed the soul of my flesh:
You return just as you left.
Where are the traces of my gifts?
We know that alchemy transforms copper into gold.
This Sun doesn’t want a crown or robe from God’s grace.
He is a hat to a hundred bald men,
a covering for ten who were naked.
Jesus sat humbly on the back of an *** my child!
How could a zephyr ride an ***
Spirit, find your way, in seeking lowness like a stream.
Reason, tread the path of selflessness into eternity.
Remember God so much that you are forgotten.
Let the caller and the called disappear;
be lost in the Call.
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
And was the day of my delight
As pure and perfect as I say?
The very source and fount of Day
Is dash'd with wandering isles of night.
If all was good and fair we met,
This earth had been the Paradise
It never look'd to human eyes
Since our first Sun arose and set.
And is it that the haze of grief
Makes former gladness loom so great?
The lowness of the present state,
That sets the past in this relief?
Or that the past will always win
A glory from its being far;
And orb into the perfect star
We saw not, when we moved therein?
1.2k
Sometimes I'm low.
and quiet
not really despondent
or depressed
just
low.
And quiet.
She says she doesn't like the desert,
says it's ugly
and I can't help but wonder
why?
And she's sometimes quiet
but never low.
I think maybe the desert is in me
and when lowness abounds
the wind whips the dunes of my soul
and shapes me as it sees fit
that wind is the sound in my ear
just
before
sleep finally takes me.
and although we wouldn't know what to do with it
even if we had it,
we will pray on for
rain.
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 2:15 PM UTC
Sweet, loud frog, harsh voice rising
like a climbing vine in a green world
of ponds and leaves thin as filaments.
The sad frog has never acquired
grace or flight, yet multiplies
geography of night.
You may want to be a fish
or a bird, yet there is a steady
wholeness about you, a settled
resignation of lowness –
no particular ambition.
You are a being both firm
and subtle ; with your webbed
feet you cling solidly to the
wet earth. With your perfect
camouflage, you enhance
the beauty of your verdant
surroundings.
Emperor of the archipelago
of lily pads, you astound
observers with your acrobatic
leaps. Nocturnal creature, you
are a visual enigma.
So, hold your head high
and with your rough harmony,
sing me a star-lit serenade.
Mar 17, 2021
Mar 17, 2021 at 5:56 AM UTC
How could I shield myself from the words
that lift me into the highest lowness?
Dearly beloved, raw openness,
the source of my grace and imperfection.
I feel strangely weightless
when my precognition
whispers to me about my possible future.
I hush all my names,
they’re not statues carved
by the thoughts of others.
I watch people drift in and out,
I touch the tree leaves in the cold wind.
Looking tenderly into the eyes of black ravens
I just try to see what they see.
I don’t fear the dark,
the primal womb that gives light
and birth to worlds spread across space.
Losing someone I love is my only fear.
Death comes uninvited, in its own time.
Love is my helpless, naked truth.
My moral compass still works
in my body.
At night, I find sleep and rest.
In light, the warmth,
and the souls of others.
I see the tired hearts
I find solace, looking into the light.
The body brings fleeting fullness.
I gather the crumbs of mystery,
expecting nothing,
just enough to find my dignity
and make peace with the unreachable.
May 16, 2025
May 16, 2025 at 4:15 PM UTC
When your myopic lowness makes angels appear dim
Don't call yourselves Seraphim
Jan 19, 2022
Jan 19, 2022 at 8:32 PM UTC
From days down low, to days up high.
To days where you just want to die.
Just remember, that you'll survive.
Time is an illusion, often causing confusion.
Your personality, you might consider an abnormality.
Just remember, everyone's living the same reality.
Everyone is in the same race.
Yet we pretend we're different, just to save face.
We place importance upon others discordance.
Others are a bonus, don't let them be your source of lowness.
Surrounded yourself, with those that thrive.
Distance yourself, with those that deprive.
Love yourself, the rest will follow.
That's the key to not feeling hollow.
We all have scars, just read anyone's memoirs.
We can't change the past, so don't let it last.
Go forth with steadfast, and forget the past.
Use it as a lesson which will always last.
I believe, in that which you may not be able to conceive.
Just give it time.
Trust me, you'll be fine.
Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 3:39 PM UTC
I’d like to think that we’re not so different
But we, essentially, strive for different things
I might yearn for love like you do but its not what I live each day for
You might seek to prove yourself but never in the way I do
For as long as I’m important to someone
Do I deserve to breathe the air and live
At least that’s what I think
What am I without those who think I’m important
Why, I’d be unimportant
Useless even
Pointless but still adrift without a purpose
My only want is to never stop being important
But sadly my dream, along with my heart, is always crushed
Maybe that’s where we are similar
Both constantly denied the one true thing to make us happy
Denied happiness
Denied a need to live
But I could never compare myself to you
I don’t even begin to compare to you
I live as a child, always attention seeking
I try to stop it but my true self refuses to be contained or hidden
I am meaningless
I know this because it has been proven countless times
Again and again even since early childhood
Maybe some people aren’t meant to be happy
Maybe I’m not meant to be happy
Maybe I’m meant to suffer
Or maybe I’m meant to suffer for others
To give up my happiness so I can see others’
Ridiculous to deny what I already act like
I do sacrifice for other’s happiness
But there lies my lowness again
I make others happy only so I am not pointless
I care for others so they care for me
And I live in duality
Like two of me
One of me is hopeless with no reason to live
And ready to die
And the other is hopeful with knowledge that I really am not useless
Or worthless or any other condemning state of being
And I’m stuck between two realities
Both happy and dead at the same time
And now I don’t even make sense to myself.
What do I mean to you
Am I only the option
Something that exists that is kept for later convenience
A lie
Or maybe I’m not worthless
You’ll never convince me
I know I am
Ask everyone that’s ever spit in my face and walked away from me what my worth is
Maybe you can tell me what all this means
I can’t.
Even if I’ve wrote it
I’m senseless and my writing is just me throwing thoughts into my writing
without knowing If it makes sense
or if it even goes together
Maybe it all leads up to the question?
Why?
Why is it that I’ve mattered to no one?
Why is it that my happiness is always put aside by others?
Why cant I trust someone when they say they wont leave me like the rest?
I think I know
Its because the worst is always proven when they walk away
No matter what they said and promised
No matter how hard I try
No matter how much I put aside for other people
Especially myself
What I the point of even trying?
I don’t think ill ever know
But other me has hope
And when there is still hope there is no end
Maybe ill suffer till my end
Prove me wrong.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 6:20 PM UTC