August 26, 2005

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  Poetry From 2004 + a new one written this morning

  
  

  “Disaster: A Reality Show”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  © January 16th, 2004 7:29 p.m. pst

  
  

  Arcane Wisdom heralded doom,
  Falling into pits of hellish random violence
  Burning flesh and retribution reach.
  Man didn’t learn though.
  Arcane wisdom failed to teach
  Him, and dark ages fell
  Even spiritual redemption failed to tell
  Him what he always knew but never realized.
  He survived countless wars,
  If he didn’t get himself killed
  He dominated the earth, and collected the prize
  The cost was too much,
  Religion, Trade,
  Wars and Technology
  Caused much pain in the end, not to man but
  To Mother Earth
  Now News shows tell us night and day
  Someone shot somebody else
  Somebody blew themselves up in a bus station
  Mad Cows are everywhere
  The terror alert is on orange
  The killer bees are coming
  Nothing we eat is safe
  The ozone layer is almost gone
  The plankton are dying and the seas are rising
  The eskimos are perishing of radiation poisoning
  And we’re all going to die
  As usual

  
  

  
  

  “The Website “
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  © January 22th, 2004 7:55 p.m. pst

  
  

  Gasp, the     
  URL
  triggered…..ad pop-ups for a domain name seller????
          it was gone…
      a universe in wondered verse
      and sights to see so stellar….
  In the blink of an eye one dies,
  But art should never disappear.
  And creativity should never have a seller
  In an age when Homestead sells photo storage
  And journalists all have personal blogs online
  Where souls have tried to communicate across
  the abyss of planetary vastness through
  the communication links of the great internetal community,
  Only to have to see their “digital lifework”go offline….
  Gasp,  I can’t still believe it’s so…
       A treasure, a family’s memories, memories of
          lost loved ones, and of fulfilling times
       A treasure shared by many including me.
  It’s like a house I used to visit many times
  Has been knocked down….
  And a hole is left
  Where a whole lot of love used to be.

  
  

  For Sheryl

  
  

  
  

  
  “Typewriter with Pictures”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  ©  Sunday, February 22nd, 2004 4:45 a.m. pst

  
  

  It always happens the same way,
  No matter whether with a pen, or whether with a keyboard
  Sometimes the words will out with ease,
  And the couplets release on their own, if you please
  Sometimes the words would get stuck in the mind
  And the pen would choke leaving inspiration behind

  
  

  As I conjure up the typewriter with pictures
  Now it’s a little bit different
  The poetry happens in notepad these days
  A benificent typewriter overlaid
  On a wondrous portal sending memories to heaven
  And somewhat hopefully satisfying the
  dreams of the masses as they worship
  In the bower of electronic kinship

  
  

  The words are now blinks on a screen
  All the thoughts, words, wishes, dreams and desires.
  Words on the screen can be moved around with ease
  Stanzas “inserted” or thoughts removed with delete keys
  But behind the wall of the light green page
  Another window shows me the mind of ev’ry internet sage

  
  

  As I conjure up the typewriter with pictures
  I sometimes feel like a god
  Overseeing the creations and the responses
  Eternity’s future laid out before me
  On a wondrous portal sending memories to heaven
  And somewhat hopefully becoming the
  Conduit through with which understanding
  Shall finally join the brethren into banding

  
  

  To create on the typewriter with pictures
  To worship through the typewriter with pictures
  To see the thoughts as they are thought
  And to move them all around in cyberspace
  Wouldst that only man would realize his fate
  And look into the typewriter with pictures
  Before it’s too late
  And realize through this he might
  look into humanity’s face

  
  

  
  

  
  “Where Jesus Walks”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  ©  April 5th , 2004 8:54 p.m. pdt

  
  

  
  I read the news again today
  Snapshots of a world gone astray
  Lost and lonely pleas for sanity
  Overstuffed political vanity
  Gruesome images
  And terrible words
  Insane retribution
  Completely absurd
  It’s all too much, too overbearing
  Has humanity lost the need for caring?
  I seem to have read the same news before
  Calamitous carnage, seared through the core
  Will Jesus be welcome when he returns?
  Will he witness strife as mankind burns?
  Peace be with my savior
  As I offer my hand
  For I don’t have any answers
  But I’ve got to make a stand
  Where Jesus Walks we must be aware
  We must have a heart, and we must truly care
  Where Jesus Walks is a world torn apart
  A world needing hope,
  A world shaking new start.
  I read the news again today
  Where Jesus Walks the lambs and lions play

  
  

  
  

  
  “Existential Depression”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  ©  Friday, August 26, 2005 4:40 a.m. pdt

  
  

  
  It used to be hard
  now is it easy
  ?
  Memorials, testimonials, territorial comeuppance
  Peacemeal settings unsubstantiated
  The spinning globe gets a hiccup
  hundreds of thousands perish
  as it is ever shall it be
  and God forgive a wretch like me

  
  

  the days portend
  or do they only pretend
  ?
  Slippages in time’s ever changing ritual
  Burning ashes washing clean
  My poor planet aches incredible
  people carry on wholesale
  as it was can it survive
  willing history dead or alive

  
  

  It used to be hard
  now I succumb daily
  yes
  newsprint on the hands
  dripping like broken bloodvessels
  into the ether of existence
  cry to Heaven with a purpose
  open mouthed and ready
  for
  existential
  depression
  to
  depart

  
  

  but
  never does the
  ecstasy
  and fullness
  start

  
  

  It used to be hard
  now it is easy
  ?
  ?
  too easy to shed
  an ocean for humanity
  again

  
  

  
  

  ---

  
  BEHIND THE POETRY: 1.”Disaster: A Reality Show” is one of a series of “political” poems I wrote in 2003 and 2004 detailing the rapid slide of mankind throughout history, and the title refers of course to the “ultimate reality show” which plays out for us each and every day. The conclusion, “And we’re all going to die, as usual” is not meant as a depressing coda. Death is the doorway to the Universal Mind, and the “answer” to the “question” of life. The “disaster” is what mankind does to his planet while living here in the corporeal realm. 2. “The Website”. I “met” Sheryl and her husband online in 1999 when I entered the “ElectricPoetry” website in “The Site Fights” competition. She had a wonderful family website. Her husband died of a brain aneurism at age 37, prompting my poem, “SoulGrief” which I post in comments on Xanga blogs when someone blogs about a death in the family. Even after her hubby died, her website lived on, but one day the money ran out, she couldn’t afford the maintenance of the site, I went to “visit” one day and the site was gone, prompting the poem. 3. “Typewriter with Pictures” is my euphemism for the computer, and this poem deals with a lot of my current themes of interaction with the global community, and perhaps the straightening up of mass global society through truth and communication on the internet. 4. “Where Jesus Walks” was inspired by a viewing of Mel Gibson’s “The Passion of the Christ” in early 2004. It has appeared on this blog before, in July 2004. 5. “Existential Depression” is one I just wrote. This year I haven’t written as many poems as in 2004, when I turned out a “whopping” (for me, anyway) 58 pieces. So far this year, I have penned merely 22, including this one, although “The Cycle of Abuse” contains seven individual poems.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  • 8:14 am
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