January 24, 2006
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ElectricPoetry Post
The first poem is my first poem for 2006. It’s not that positive. I have been feeling a mite depressed lately, and can’t seem to shake the feeling. It’ll go away, it always does. However, the words just spilled out so they make it to the blog. After the latest poem, I’ve followed with a poem from 1973, and a couple from 1984. MFN
“Empty”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
© Jan 24, 2006 6:15am pst
Fullillment has never been gained
No matter how emphatic one tries
The expression remains painedI begin the day seeming whole and refreshed
A shower, glorious water cleansing
Yet the feelings seldom stay around
And depression sneaks in the room unawaresEach year’s end gives pause for reflection
And sometimes the image looking up
out of the pool of tears does not smileI give my little sermons about fulfillment
as I have for decades, sourcing passion
and creativity as lynchpins for happiness
Yet, I tend to falter in my step,
And sleep demands a greater segment of my
time on Earth,
I feel tired
And irresolute
Plans are but lines of type on the mind’s eye
very easily erased by indecision and lethargyThe poems are reread, and the ideas absorbed
The questions, never answered, are asked again
I don’t want to talk about it, or see anyone
I don’t want to grovel, nor to seem filled with sadness
Because I am not full
Of anything
I am just empty.
Fulfillment was always a goal in the distance
No matter how much time passes
The gaining of fulfillment meets resistanceI gauge each hour by waiting for the next
I watch the clock of callousness tick past my inability
I gaze toward the end of worktime,
but then I merely wish to sleep
to rest and breathe freely
to loose my mind’s wanderings
down the path of subtle shock and sadnessWill fulfillment arrive
ever
?
Or is empty my vessel
until the final stages of sleep wash over my life?Here’s a poem about death from 1973, when I was 20 years old.
“Thanatopsis”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
© April. 7, 1973 12:30 am
Ephemeral listless whiteness ghosts clutching
marking dark lonely halls waiting
Waiting we wait
we wait to die
To Die no one waits no one wants to
die dying is unbelievable nobody
what’s that who says hey its a joke
I’m a joke you’re a joke laugh
Just a friendly joke
razorbladesHow’s that? screaming sad mourns to
blank walls in a world of yes you
heard me a world that’s a
world of yes you heard meReasoning flimsy excuses getting over with it
Remembering flightless illusions of the past
Catching a hold of frightened memories
Straining to get loose.
A name……….Kathy
Yes oh god I mean Yes Oh God I remember
We invented a definition for those feelings
…Love…Kathy…NoA year later speeding home on the freeway
All of a sudden “where is home?”
Eastbound San Bernadino only 17 miles
but then we wonder was it a year
a month was it just yesterday
memories live with our all-encompassing
omnipotent minds saying was it true
or was it an invention in time; of time
…it’s so easy to spin out nowHades, gentle god of the underworld
Carry me across the Styx, my
coin is firmly imbedded under my
tongue- may it speak no more
- for it was seldom heardBut no- we cannot no we are tole
we cannot forsake the lives we
no we are told who tells us they
tell us who are they??????????
Who knows but anyway like I was
you heard me you know No I
don’t want to argue just let me
No- please listen- please is
anybody listening- anybody- please
PleaseNames are written in telephone books
They can’t be real if they’re tangible
Names come to me, I am touched
that they are truth itself.
My brother is such names.
My Emma is such names.
I search for answers but recieve none
I ask but receive not even
questions in return
We postulate that we have found
(like finding lizards under rocks)
(and moss growing on the underside)
love – but it is not
reality – that which is real is tangible,
therefore can it be real?
affection- but isn’t this defined by
Love?
We postulate that we have found
Answers- and those we call
Life- but Thanatos recalls the
Answers lie with the eternal gift
*
I compose unimportant poems
in order to answer the universe
and I believe I know the answers
Then I believe I do not…
Then I walk down a lonely corridor
And face lonliness herself
Lonliness, Maturity, Poetry
These are words- What good can
they do to her? Would the same
meaning be conveyed if we had
another language in which to relate.
Do we have language at all?
One look at truth herself
We can face destiny
But isn’t is malicious that not all
can glimpse her presence
On Thanatos deliver us all“Computer Dreams II”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
© March 8, 1984 9:15 p.m.
enter
reprog
the pain – all pain – physical – emotional
erase
pleasure begins in absentia
I am the user
I am in charge
the world will conform to the
buttons I push
ritual boredom
but painless
newline
enter
love
a meaning a definition
not in program
does not compute
I am the
buy a new machine“Many Mixed Metaphors”
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
© May 21, 1984 5:00 p.m.As I stammer; hammer home the point
Useless musings must make sense how oft
Contemplative couplets
give me pause to cause my burden
Let us lift a heavy experience aloftNow all the words well-crafted
Meaningless repetitious babble designed to awe
the listener
In the past the odes were addressed to somebody
e’en if that somebody were nonexistantToday I take part for art’s sake
Revelation becomes rhetoric
It was to be a fathomless feeling in verse
It’s a bunch of words instead
Readings ricochet from my headYou are a chasm unfulfilled
I am the avalanche
You are the unbroken seal
I am the scissorsNow I’m afraid I’ll cut myself
Or you in the bargain
But I’m still afraid the right words
will escape
Comments (13)
Hi Mr. Mike!
Thanatopsis is really deep…very well written and intriguing. They are all well written, but I think that one grabbed me the most.
I just read on Lee’s (priorities) site that according to studies yesterday is the most depressing day of the year. Looks like that held true for you as well. I hope you pull out of your sad feelings soon and find something a little happier to focus on.
~Denise~
that first poem really touched home.
The first one struck me…but they are beautifully expressed..
creative souls all seem to meander to the solemn..
but then we also recognize when the clouds lift..
namaste
Mixed metaphors was fantastically well done.
Here. Now. Be here now. I feel for you, Mike. I’ve been there. You’ll get out of the funk soon enough. In the meantime, listen to some George Harrison :wave:
Mike
The new one was so sad. I know we all go through bad times but I hope you do realize how talented you are and how much you have in your life. ….Sourcing passions and creativity as the lynchpins for happiness….. If this is true then how can you not be there already? You are so creative. While I haven’t known you long your blog is testiment to a long history of creativity. Passion you obviously have in abundance. I hope that 2006 will be the most successful year for you so far. May you find whatever is lacking in your life.
Hugs
Kat
I’m often suffering from depression, anxiety. and now a little fear of people since going off my meds. so i can feel you on the struggle. it’s an everyday type of thing.
re: the first poem … if only everyone reflected everyday, life would be so much better for the individual and for the rest of the world…
Empty rings a bell. Are we so busy trying to attain ‘fulfillment’ that we forget to live the day by day? Who says we must be fulfilled? Do we need to analyze why we are not? Is January the hardest of months? Be here, now.
Hi Mike,
I am sorry that you are feeling down. It is good that you know that the feeling will pass. From the other poems, it seems that you feel that way periodically. I do, too.
Nancy
Hi Mike, I can really relate to your poem titled, “Empty”. I do hope you’re feeling in a better state of mind now, but can certainly understand how you feel. All your poems are truly well written.
:love: you are more than caught up now. thanks for the answer poem. it was a perfect reflection. my keys? i got out of the car, put the soda in the garage, carried in the groceries, put them away… so my keys are between the garage and the kitchen and they aren’t there!!! the best part of nm is the sky. i watch it constantly and must take a picture of it weekly. i’ve never seen so many different kinds of clouds in one sky at the same time. i love that first sky pic too… and the sunflowers in barbed wire. thanks for taking the time to read Gabe. it was a deeply personal story when i wrote it- kind of surprised me. of your poems above, the feelings seem to run deep in them. they are good expressions of your feelings. :heartbeat:
Mike
Your first poem definately blew me away
emotionally
I think you hit the core here for human suffering
it is raw, it is real and it is 0f course Great Poetry
I enjoyed them all….but that one poem touched me.