"undeserved" poems
A halo of transfigured light.
spanned the hills and autumn gold
of scores of aspen groves
basking in the morning sun.
But what is this thing we call a rainbow?
For all our science talk of vapor,
refraction and angle of the sun
we surrender still in willing captivity
to its beauty, mystery and myth.
Rainbows beguile by their fleeting rarity
as ephemeral as life itself -
temporal blessings suspended in time
unintended and undeserved,
spectral bridges between here and there -
between what is and what should be.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
After the wind lifts the beggar
From his bed of trash
And blows to the empty pubs
At the road's end
There exists only the silence
Of the world before dawn
And the solitude of trees.
Handel on the set mysteriously
Recalls to me the long
Hot nights of childhood spent
In malarial slums
In the midst of potent shrines
At the edge of great seas.
Dreams of the past sing
With voices of the future.
And now the world is assaulted
With a sweetness it doesn't deserve
Flowers sing with the voices of absent bees
The air swells with the vibrant
Solitude of trees who nightly
Whisper of re-invading the world.
But the night bends the trees
Into my dreams
And the stars fall with their fruits
Into my lonely world-burnt hands.
_______
Source:
http://www.universeofpoetry.org/nigeria.shtml
13.9k
It is nestled deep inside the fertile
Shenandoah Valley.
There is a river that runs amok
like a rabid, winded wildcat in
the shadows of temptation.
And then there’s a back-country
woman that just won’t leave my
hesitated mind.
Taking time
to worry all about her,
risking heartache
to forever go
without her—
it seems like such an unfair penance,
like the result of prison’s popular
undeserved sentences.
Getting by without a proper windshield,
it’s starting to look as if my drummer
really is too far off the mark.
Wishes to again cross that princess on
that old and dusty road.
In the end it’s a crime that, quite
simply, has no motive.
And I’m paying my sentence daily for
being a prince—and not the most
handsome toad in the land.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
the wild suburban dogs
eat
the leftovers of a tom cat
outside
my apartment door--
the neighbors gone,
they must've done wrong,
the cops keep asking me
where they went--
a bluebird lands
on
a bent limb,
no song to sing
just worms to slurp,
a nest to think about,
and a debt
to me--
for the undeserved attention
I grant.
May 8, 2011
May 8, 2011 at 7:54 PM UTC
1. Love everything, and everyone. Thank the grass for being a soft place to fall, and those who own the arms of your safe place to crash.
Love the girl who taunts you, love the boy who tries too hard.
Love the woman who screams that you will never make it, love the man who stares a little too long.
Do not waste too much time on loving yourself, for when you exude love you will receive it.
You must love those who do not deserve it, and all the while you will receive love you do not deserve.
For love is not a feeling, but an action.
For love is not restraining, but freeing.
2. When you start to notice your reflection, remember that it does not matter. A soul needs a home, and your home is a fine home. Your body keeps your soul safe, and warm, and fed. So worry more about what you put into your mind than your mouth, and never forget that your soul cares not of the shape of it’s home.
3. When you see someone who is in need of help, they become your obligation. The only true way to understand a person is to love them, and the best way to love a person is to serve them. There is no man or woman who was born undeserved of love, and you ought to give more than you think your heart will allow.
4. When lost, know that you do not have one sole purpose. You have many facets, and many talents. Each day you may have a different purpose, and each day it may not be a grand one, but each day it is an important one. Be open to things you did not think of yourself capable, and know that nobody cares about your embarrassments more than yourself.
5. Every day of your life you will make mistakes, and if you think that you have to right to belittle others because of theirs then honey, I am here to tell you that you are wrong. Unfair judgment hinders understanding, which hinders the most important thing of all: love.
6. Forgive all, but do not trust all. Love all, but do not pleasure all. You are to lose yourself, to emerge yourself in the work and service of others. You are to overwhelm yourself with love and kindness, so much that it spills over. You are to give more than you have, and to take less than you need.
7. Do not worry about being happy. The search for happiness is never ending, and a path that has no destination. Lose yourself, and happiness will find you. Look for happiness, and you will lose it all.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:28 AM UTC
*What I thought was love
Was really just head knowledge
Love is way deeper!*
•
*Such grace, undeserved!
Too obscure for mere mortals
God's agape LOVE!*
•
*Unconditional!
Loving me beyond my will-
And without merit!*
•
*Loving me dearly,
He instilled His love in me
Letting me love Him...*
© Raphael Uzor
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:21 AM UTC
►☼◄
ओं मणिपद्मे हूं
I sing the Self – that mystic fable.
Lie to Truth as Cain to Abel.
Inner blight of fallen man,
enemy of Heaven’s master-plan:
your inner SELF! The guiding light
of Luciferian deception.
Mystic wisdom’s blinding sight;
purveyed as truth: obscene confection.
Listen well – please spare your soul
and sidestep this, the blackest hole.
Your self is sewage! Look within;
behold that putrid old abyss
then dive down deep into your sin
the fallen source of carnal bliss.
Inspire. Inhale in full the stench
from deep within the septic trench
unsounded depths, a cesspool’s source
depravity released in force.
Apart from mercy undeserved
on those whom Heaven has reserved.
Apart from Christ, your sordid purpose;
jewel whose bright refracted surface
glistens, beckoning to the feast
yet never can appease the beast.
I hail your lie, oh Inner Self
you silted continental shelf –
(or are you more a surge oceanic:
roiling undertow satanic)?
New Age myth, and Hindu idol
fallen god whose pull is tidal…
Brahman, Atman, Buddha, babble
lies repackaged for the rabble…
How deep do you intend to go
into our post – Edenic show?
How far the bottom? Whence the end?
Explore ! You’ll never comprehend.
You’ll find still worse – and yet descend.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
Take your pills, open wide
Swallow it with your pride
It’s a cure, overdose
Keep your head down and your mouth closed
We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know
You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Update status
Pop a Xanax
There was texting
Now we’re setxing
We have the gall to have a sense
Of undeserved entitlement
We’re over educated and unemployed
Apathetic and annoyed
We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know
You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Pictures reblogged
Arteries clogged
Kandi kids
Digital natives
Anxiety, can’t concentrate
As obesity permeates
What will happen? Time will tell
And remind us of Y2K and when the towers fell
We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know
You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Lets the bass drop
Generation lost
It’s hard to live
When you’re hypersensitive
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 5:30 PM UTC
Caged in a prison, high on a hill, actions ensued but didn’t quite fit the bill
Words of not-always transformed promises to forever,
Side by side, naught to hide,
despite the cloudy weather
A friend, a rock, a ship almost wrecked was looking to dock
Alone in the harbour, under the moonlight,
Ashamed,
The half-wreck shone bright for what it was famed.
Tough stains were covered, remains left undiscovered to be smothered by another
Heart still full of what was before, keen, loveful pursuers already knocking at the door
Cabin wide open: “Ahoy mateys! Ahoy!”
She soon set sail with the innocent boy.
Tides were rolling on peacefully by, some of them were low tides but mainly they were high,
When in need there was a shoulder upon which to cry
And the girl thought the boy would help her get by.
Way out at sea on a tropical isle the boy showed the girl daemons not seen in a while
Opened her up and dove right in, illustrated the flaws of reacting to whims
Open
Broken
Alone at sea,
the boy turned his back as she fell to her knees
Floundering, drowning, thrashing in the waves
The girl succumbed to what her daemon craves
Underwater tears remain unobserved
A not-so-sly Fox spoke of acts undeserved
An unsure girl, curled up, abashed
Covered up the act and watched her daemon be tamed
A ship in the darkness, a ship under the stars
Saved the girl and craved the girl and hoped she knew right
And Oh! How she flourished in this dependable new light
“Love and peace, me mateys!”: a new reason to fight
The boy on his island, soon to return,
Will see that the shipwreck upon which they met, though
not
yet
quite
perfect
Trawls the coast to find an isle of its own
And though different to first-envisaged, Bristol shall be its home.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
No other thing in this uncertain world
Tastes sweeter and surer
Than your name on my lips
A grace, undeserved
Bestowed upon me
For all the times you've held me
And I do not know what I did
In this life, or another
To be blessed by the heavens
Unsure if I was chosen somehow
Or by some stroke of luck
Came out from misfortunes
Given the sweetest grace
I am still somehow in doubt
If I am worthy
But deemed so by your touch
Igniting everything in me
And I am alive, living finally
Maybe it is true
That mercy changes you
Because now I have been renewed
And if this is a mistake
Against the world and all of nature
Then it is one I am willing to make
You have been named after fate
But in my mind
I call you sweeter things
You say that you cannot see it
And maybe so, maybe it is me
Because lately I have been realizing
I am the one who is lucky
Sep 2, 2022
Sep 2, 2022 at 1:54 PM UTC
she was my jane doe, my everything.
we flew to arizona.
she was my partner, my lover, wondering what i could be thinking about.
her. a different kind of her
"not now," she thinks,
"what about jane doe?"
i understand, and oblige.
the light stirs
we crash down and fall and almost burn
but live
others were not so lucky.
when we fell, i thought about her.
my jane doe.
this place wasn't a place of god, no matter what it said
the things they did to women
children
babies
sickening.
it reminded me of what they did to her,
my jane doe.
her, my partner, my lover
was gone, but i still found her.
we walked and knew we would lose each other again,
no matter how much it hurt us
the light continued to stir
and when it did
i saw her,
my jane doe,
my everything.
it happened so many years ago
we were children
young souls destined to go to heaven
if we were good.
if we weren't, they would lecture us, punish us.
yours was undeserved,
my jane doe.
i tried to be good. i tried to not say a word.
i knew what sin meant,
but i knew even more of your love for me
love.
the prophet said it was love when he slaughtered the women and children.
the heretic said it was love when she played with me like she did all those years ago
they didn't know. they'll never know
but i knew
when i knew you were there,
my jane doe,
my one and only,
my everything.
the child was you, the one who came back for me,
my jane doe.
it was nobody's fault; not yours, not mine, but his?
there is no doubt.
there is nothing.
but you,
my jane doe.
one last stir of light
helpless,
we would be one again.
now i lie here alone
where artificial light stirs
where voices mumble
and when two people say
they have plans for me.
Aug 30, 2022
Aug 30, 2022 at 4:55 PM UTC
[Sidra of the Stars]
a goddess has awakened
eyes slowly open
penetrating...
light reflects off the irises
(recessive blue alleles on chromosome 15)
my name is Sidra
and I will not be diverted.
-
I stand under sol
I stand under the earth's satellite
I stand in the vale.
-
look upon my feet
the fine lines of support
and strength of design
golden light showers
my long legs
strong and graceful
gaze upon my curves...
silky
ample
hypnotic
look at my golden arms
that comfort babes
dig into the earth
and create abstractions
hands and fingers of elegance
given to me by my grandmother
nails to claw and hands to hold
look at my long neck
draped in silver metal and black glass
falling between my *******
hips compliment the
curve of my spine and
the upward tilt of my chin
my hair is a golden light
shining over hoops of silver
and diamond studs
crystal pierces my nose
lips soft and full
eyes lined in black, never faltering
-
this goddess is aware
conscious
enlightened
eager.
-
I will not abide
silence
undeserved
because you lack the courage
to face me.
I will not abide
deception
manipulation
or syrupy black selfishness.
I will not abide
injustice
mockery
or ultimatums.
I will not abide
misrepresentation
vagueness
or weakness.
-
I am Sidra
of
the stars
of
the sky
of
the night
-
I move swiftly in the night
eyes bright
a creator
a lover
a muse
thoughts align
images swirl
pen to paper
my body moves
sensuous and confident
music booms
lips curve upwards
-
the day descends with
distractions pulling awareness
into waves of concentration
tiny fragments of
thoughts and ideas
begin to build
for later contemplation
-
I know the minds of men.
I will not be diverted.
My power has been revealed.
I will protect the unprotected
**And I will stand
Made of stars
And unleash Hell.**
-
I will reign terror on your ego
and bring the sword down
on your garishness.
Naked and ******** on my warhorse
I will strike you down with silver spear
and you will pay for your misdeeds.
In all my thundering beauty
with nothing but logic and art
I will slam you to the wall
and declare you a fool.
-
I am Sidra of the Stars
I stand in the vale
I will not be diverted.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 1:07 AM UTC
Forgive me,
if at this moment
you are lonely;
and me not there
to be lonely with you.
Forgive me,
if some girls have hurt you;
and made you feel undeserved.
Trust me, I understand your pain;
for I too have been with men
whom I loved only for hopes that
one of them is finally you.
But none of them was you.
Because You are still there,
somewhere,
hurting.
And me too here,
crying, hoping, waiting.
But I would like to ask you,
like me;
Keep looking.
And if we will be hurt
again and again,
with wrong people,
that is only because
we have not found each other yet.
But please, take heed;
I know, when us finally meet
we will work together,
to put ourselves back again.
Our love shall heal each other
as if we have not been lonely,
as if we have not been hurt before.
Our love shall thread the holes
in our hearts,
Our hugs shall glue the the broken pieces of us.
Our kisses shall profess that in each other's arm;
We received the love we deserved.
Your love,
*** ---qyf***
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
Guns are everywhere in sight
Muzzles, fire and fright.
Blood running through sewers
like flooded rivers in mid-May,
when it should be running through veins.
Slain bodies once filled with life
are now filled with undeserved death.
Pain seeps through the eyes
of brutalized victims as they weep.
A mother pleads to God
with hopes He will breath life
back into her daughter's lungs
as a child stands over the rotting
bodies of bystanders,
and waves at the flies
Unrest fills the air
while fire's are burning under water
Tragedy burns the face down to a tear,
Could Hell get any hotter?
Mirages mirror terror,
Silence in broken mirrors.
It may seem that voices don't exist
in places like this,
And that a difference lies off
in the distance;
out of reach, unattainable.
But they do.
A blind man's eyes become
his hands and his ears
when he needs to see,
While the mute lack a voice,
they still find a way to say,
"Hope is never all lost."
They need to know they are not alone.
Battles are being fought all over this world.
War, famine, sexism, racism.
A fight between mother and father.
Grief for the loss a lover.
We can all relate,
in one way or another.
Ignore ignorance, become informed.
Silence does not defeat violence,
nor is strength needed to beat it.
Courage and a heart
are needed to defeat it,
along with the will to believe
it can be defeated.
Throwing punches with fingerless fists
and broken spirits can seem useless,
but more has been done
with less.
Remember, a voice with something to say
is harder to forget
than a voice
that is
silent.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
My child,
As you watch your worlds get torn apart
With a malevolence you can’t comprehend,
Please do not throw yourself into the crossfire,
This is a war you cannot mend.
Their anger is too deep-rooted,
Their hurt is much too strong,
They will insist on going down fighting,
And refuse to see where they are wrong.
Find shelter from this constant storm,
Please close your eyes and ears.
They won’t listen to your pleading,
They choose not to see your tears.
Your screams won’t penetrate their spiteful resolve,
Your little voice will go unheard,
You have no choice but to be strong now;
A responsibility so undeserved.
My child, you cannot help them
As they stand firm on this battle site.
You must know this will be one of many,
There is too much wrong to put right.
If they could see how their bellowing makes you recoil,
See you cowering on your knees,
They might take heed of the damage they’re wreaking,
Reconsider this incessant, vindictive reprise.
But this road is far from ending,
So don’t exhaust your resilience here,
You must protect yourself from the barrage,
For they have not the strength to shield your fears.
It will be another long and tiresome night
As you are again dragged through this mess,
Processing all of their vicious accusations
For all that they refuse to confess.
So as you watch the two people you revere the most
Spit venom at volumes you can’t stand,
I beg you not to let it make you hateful -
This is not what they had planned.
I know how you long to fix it,
Desperate to appease their pain,
But my child, too much has already been broken,
Just please know you are not to blame.
I wish I could offer an escape route,
Tell you everything will be OK,
But there is no choice except to ride out this bitterness,
Await the dawn of a new day.
And on that day you’ll find a way to forgive them,
For destroying everything you knew as home,
For their selfishness stealing all innocence
And turning safe places into war-zones.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Popularity
This is something tht I didn't have to have
I guess u can say I'm a victim of my swag
And whts tht u ask well thts my personality
The qualities and characteristics tht makes me
Anywhere I go I leave w/ at least one friend
Humor w/ a little sarcasm who can contend
The key to this is to stay ahead of the next man
See things happen before they happen w/o pretend
Which means u have to keep it real
Be ready for wht ever but still remain chill
Add all these factors up and thts not even a quarter of me
Even tho I'm giving u the blueprint equaling me is something u will never be
You see people wait to see wht I'm going to wear
Which makes it hard not to notice when people stare
But I don't care cause I give people inspiration
The females sweating me w/o the perspiration
And it's amazing how some women hang on ur every word
No matter how rude, obnoxious or absurd U will still be heard
I mean in all actuality a **** is wht they want
Y'all embrace them inconsiderate ******* types ladies don't front
But on the inside to project this persona brings about alot of pressure
With ur preconceived notion of who I am w/me left to measure
So u can actually say tht I'm being me for you
Even though u believe all my qualities to be unique and true
Because to be honest u put me before you
In an attempt to negate your own low self esteem
Whether it be an acquaintance or a small association You make it bigger than it seems
Placing me in undeserved high regards
Feeling tht I possess the best hand when you hold the trump card
You see this is just a brief look at the other side of the fence
And even though it may be hard for me to convince
It because of ur interest tht my popularity exist
By: @mr_p3rs0nality
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 5:02 PM UTC
To see a dwindling tree in the forest
is not to know its bleakest
but to know its earnest
The decay is shown outwardly as despair
by means of deforested ensnare
Forlornness seems its welfare
Externally the forest is declared undeserved eternally
Beauty is unsecured directly
And hope comes seldomly
Whole,
is a forest,
alive as a unit
Spaciousness is created with the tree's covet
Restored are the longing of nutrients
in a sacrificed facet
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
~~♡~~
undeserved
favor
forgiveness
and
understanding
there is no higher love
soulsurvivor
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
Reflective intercessions
With my Rabbi teaching me lessons.
Thinking about my undeserved blessings
How at times I stumble
And is it not humble .
When I think my living is impressive
Ponder my past push play in my perspective
How can I see a mirror and just be partially reflective.
Guess its the fact that I see my body and think I have grown.
I should look into my optics..
The windows to my soul.
There are only two options
Serve God or Sheol
Deep down I know..
Life and death.
The truth is real don't suppress it
Now check the lyrical expression..
Satan is waiting
Anxiously anticipating
For me to fall he loves corrupting Gods creation..
He wants me big headed feeling myself like ************
While he eating my soul, mastication
But to Jesus my life shows dedication
Walking with God I don't identify with procrastination..
Yet time passes...
And how do I hold God close..
Attacked by worldly passions
Time is hand and hand with deaths approach..
Control fate like when we crush crawling a roach
Its cool to be a man's man
But if Christ was one, would there have been holes in his hands
Cause clearly it was in line with Gods plan..
Holding on to what is cool its like holding on to sand ....
Pointless ...
Nevertheless..
I am giving it my best...
Reflective moments only partial when I am looking at flesh
God is using me
Satan wants to abuse me..
Entice me with demonic opportunities
Like have *** with that chick with the big *****
Challenges but I am not stupid
No I am not stooping
To a level below Gods standard
Reflective to see if I'm walking in Gods planning
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 10:32 AM UTC
Walked out the door,
into the God abandoned day,
night took his toll,
brought his longtime friend,
the rain.
Please, don't follow me.
I'm not mad for the reasons you thought.
I'm not sad for the season I lost.
It's the lessons you didn't mean, but taught.
Please, don't follow me.
Your words are meaning less and less to me.
Walked past my car,
stopped at Vista,
bought a pack,
watched the water war,
spat smoke, in my soaked coat, under an awning,
a teenage couple, tense as matchsticks, walked past,
staring with unknown, undeserved prejudice.
Please, don't follow me.
It isn't about emotional depths or rediscovery.
It isn't about finding happiness or inspiring sorrow.
It's the fact that my mistakes led me to you.
Please, don't follow me.
You aren't ready to help me.
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 9:10 PM UTC
Here I sit in this holy room
Surrounded by God and a heavenly host
Of saints and angels who give him glory.
Each changed by the body and blood
The power of love and beauty in the sacrifice.
Here I sit in this holy room
A witness to the saving power
A devotion to the perpetual presence
Of Christ with us and in us.
We are each bearers of light, bearers of Christ;
We carry him in us wherever we go.
Here I sit in this holy room
To listen and take in this wondrous gift.
I choose to accept this gift.
How can I not want to share this love with others?
How can I keep from singing and shouting His name?
Here I sit in this holy room
Holy Spirit fill this place and my soul,
Uplift them to the throne of God above.
Start a fire in me that cannot be quenched
And set in me the bright flame of love and passion.
Lead my feet and guide my steps along the path
Be my compass and my Northern Star
So I may never lose my way;
So I can always find my way back home.
Here I sit in this holy room
To add my voice to those around the world
At this moment praying for a change
In others and in their own lives:
Praying for safety and peace,
Understanding and patience.
Praying for survival, praying for the faith's revival.
Praying with men and women past and present
To call upon your aid as we aid those in need.
We pray for many things: our families, friends, nation.
We pray for each other, we pray for ourselves.
Lead us to you, take us closer to your merciful heart,
Love us and heal us and teach us where to start.
Here I sit in this holy room
I give thanks for the gift of undeserved love
And cast my gaze to Heaven above.
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 8:56 PM UTC
There’s a cloak I keep around
A fine, invisible one
One cannot feel its texture,
Or play with it for fun.
I can’t hear its many sounds
And neither can I see
The object of my leisure
A worker’s company.
How do I know it exists?
Perhaps I fool my brain
It’s a phantom wisp of air
That somehow hides my pain
That helps calm when one persists
In hurting what’s inside
The worn bubble worse for wear
When all weak tears are dried.
When internal demons wake
The cloth begins to fray
When the heart is torn apart
The stitches do not stay
The joints start to tear and break
Grow weak with weeping thread,
The engine now cannot start
One that was always dead.
Through the holes they find the *****
Some fellows in my land
Working their way through the fold
Turning stone to mere sand.
Why do they not stop to think
‘What is this good fabric?
Looking so when once so bold
Despicable magic!’
Therein lies the bitter truth
The folly of our time
They cannot see the poor cloak
As it is in this rhyme!
Only the wearer can sleuth
Which holes made when, are where
Through dumbness, anger it soaks
Each cruel word, each harsh stare.
Pull it closer, guard within
The fragile soul and smile
Hide well, know with clarity
That it is worth your while
Each mistake you call a sin
Throw it outside the cloth
With faithful integrity
Forgiven, not forgot.
Then build inside nerves of steel
Strength of iron so great
In the kiln of your own brick
Control what you create
Take the helm, but do not seal
The course of actions done
Know the plan, but do not trick
Make hay under the sun.
Make points clear, do not mask
With some thoughts said aloud
Keep a hat large for your head
I mean- do not be proud.
Perform with love each tough task
In your own, unique way
Care and earn, and share your bread
With every passing day.
Mend the cloak as you move on
With the good gift of life
Show it off well when you can
Fighting undeserved strife.
You don’t know why you were born
You do not have to wait
The brave roar of a lion sang
From stories of your fate.
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
Stop with the daydreams
Of wet ******* unicorns.
Stop with the dam spillway
Of "undeserved tears."
Stop looking in the rear view mirror
And start looking at your **** rear.
Stop the inverted visions,
Need help?
Walk the streets of Calcutta,
Better yet,
Pitch a tent with the homeless.
Stop the mindlog.
Stop the driveling outlog,
Just stop.
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 11:16 PM UTC
W. S. Rendra translations
Willibrordus Surendra Broto Rendra (1935-2009), better known as W. S. Rendra or simply Rendra, was an Indonesian dramatist and poet. He said, “I learned meditation and the disciplines of the traditional Javanese poet from my mother, who was a palace dancer. The idea of the Javanese poet is to be a guardian of the spirit of the nation.” The press gave him the nickname Burung Merak (“The Peacock”) for his flamboyant poetry readings and stage performances.
SONNET
by W. S. Rendra
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Best wishes for an impending deflowering.
Yes, I understand: you will never be mine.
I am resigned to my undeserved fate.
I contemplate
irrational numbers―complex & undefined.
And yet I wish love might ... ameliorate ...
such negative numbers, dark and unsigned.
But at least I can’t be held responsible
for disappointing you. No cause to elate.
Still, I am resigned to my undeserved fate.
The gods have spoken. I can relate.
How can this be, when all it makes no sense?
I was born too soon―such was my fate.
You must choose another, not half of who I AM.
Be happy with him when you consummate.
THE WORLD'S FIRST FACE
by W. S. Rendra
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Illuminated by the pale moonlight
the groom carries his bride
up the hill―
both of them naked,
both consisting of nothing but themselves.
As in all beginnings
the world is naked,
empty, free of deception,
dark with unspoken explanations―
a silence that extends
to the limits of time.
Then comes light,
life, the animals and man.
As in all beginnings
everything is naked,
empty, open.
They're both young,
yet both have already come a long way,
passing through the illusions of brilliant dawns,
of skies illuminated by hope,
of rivers intimating contentment.
They have experienced the sun's warmth,
drenched in each other's sweat.
Here, standing by barren reefs,
they watch evening fall
bringing strange dreams
to a bed arrayed with resplendent coral necklaces.
They lift their heads to view
trillions of stars arrayed in the sky.
The universe is their inheritance:
stars upon stars upon stars,
more than could ever be extinguished.
Illuminated by the pale moonlight
the groom carries his bride
up the hill―
both of them naked,
to recreate the world's first face.
Keywords/Tags: Rendra, Indonesian, Javanese, translation, love, fate, god, gods, goddess, groom, bride, world, time, life, sun, hill, hills, moon, moonlight, stars, life, animals , international, travel, voyage, wedding, relationship, mrbtran
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC