November 27, 2006
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ElectricPoetry Post: New Poems
"Reading Me Like A Book Again"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Sunday, November 26, 2006
1:00 p.m. pst
Studiously careful, yet calm
Steadfastly complacent, yet cautious
He removes the yellowed book from it's shelf,
blows the dust motes from the binding.
Time's history
Elusive meaning,
Cumulative emotional forces
And random thoughts from the Universal
Cleverly written in overwrought passages
Yet somehow missing the heartbeat
of happenstance until with trepidation
he begins to read.He settles into the chair of channelling,
Unstable, yet sublimely comfortable
Unsure, but steadfast
Opening destiny's diatribe
And beginning to read his life's meaning
Written as magnificent metaphor
But easily perused, purloined, and forgotten.Liesurely turning the pages of memory,
Pinpointing the moment when anticipation turned into regret
Myriad thoughts sear the brain,
Causing hurtful decisions and dread awareness to resurrectGloom and glory reside in between the lines
which contain many half thoughts and illusory arguments
Winners and losers
Family and friends,
Workmates and wastrels,
All characters in life's depressing and brilliant drama,
Parading across the pages
like the simple shadows of reason.Chapters are filled with past yearning and present nostalgia
Words spill effortlessly from the ether of shared moments
with souls gone but not forgotten
and someday souls who haven't yet perished
Subtly changing the face of now
into the wishes of forever.He reads, enraptured again and for the first time
as memory flows steadily into realization
and time stands as still as granite mountains
seem to be
until the last words are written.Doubtless the book ends,
and falls, unwarily beside the lap of the reader,
As he closes his eyes, and his book, for eternity.
"Untitled XV"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Nov. 26, 2006 1:21 p.m. pstEntropy engineered to entertain
Wasteful disregard for disintegrating reason
Throngs of callous ne'er do wells with no
wishes of goodwill
Sending shouts of shrill indignation heavenward
where they fade from memory like a dreamResugent machinations of intelligence
Seem nothing more than rote memorizations
At the mercy of mutilated gospels
preaching dogmas to the diaspora of eternal damnationCompeting contemptuous ideologies
wasting away on the sand dunes of time
believed, besot, and bidden adieu.
The quarrelsome quarries mine more questions
which seemingly contain no answers
except repetitious babble and bad ideas
"At One Time"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
Nov. 26, 2006 2:35 p.m. pstAt one time there was so much worry, and
there were times of no rest
Times which lasted far too long
Time which was never regained
Then the body grew weary and tired
as the mind collected folly and wisdom
and buried it together in memory
where worry was soon forgotten
and time became immaterial
as the second had swept away
while we slept in wanton disregardAt one time there was such possibility, and
there were times of no rest
Times which lasted far too short
Time which was wound far away
Then the ideologies of idiocy dictated
disaster to increasingly innocuous innocents
naively embracing traditions grounded in
quicksand
and time passed unaware of itselfNow time is composed
moving rapidly but seeming to stand still
and hours may pass,
but existence becomes repetitious
and time becomes measureless
and meaningless
in time
BEHIND THE POETRY: It's been a long holiday. I took Wednesday the 22nd off of work, so I had a five day weekend. Sad to report, somehow, that I didn't exactly "do" anything over the long weekend. I pretty much have all the entertainment I could wish for delivered right to my media room, thanks to Tivo, Netflix, and the internet, and there is a lot of construction going on around my house, so I stayed 'housebound' for the duration. I didn't even "celebrate" Thanksgiving with a big meal. I was going to get in touch with Liz and maybe go out this past weekend, but I didn't. So the long weekend might have seemed wasted, but I enjoyed myself, knowing I didn't spend any extra money. I spent a lot of time finishing up the "Selling Sex" video a couple of weeks ago, and that burned me out on the computer for a while, so I didn't even update my website or do any "internetting" on Xanga. But I did write a few poems, which add to my meager output for the year, which is almost over. Of the five poems I wrote yesterday, three are ready for "publication" here on the blog, and they are presented here. The first is a thematic repeat of my poem, "Reading Me Like a Book" from 1976. I think it's the most coherent and complete of the three. MFN
Comments (13)
Mike, It is nice to see some new poems that are coming now from your pen. Having published these three poems...I would say "Good job man!! Time well spend in the 5 days."
Of course the sentiment of the poems is important. I understand most of the vocabulary, but some of it is too heady for me to read properly after just one go. I always find myself amazed by the way you craft the words, though, and how similar our styles are. (Maybe that's why they take me a while to read.) Anyway, I really like your alliteration in all your work. The sounds mirror the fury.
Peace, Mike!
Hello Mike
It was nice to see the poems. You say that you had a good weekend but they seem kind of sad to me. Much sadder than I have heard from you of late. Hope that everything is okay with you. Hope that your life is still looking up as it was a few months ago. Life has those ups and downs at times. I have certainly had my share. Hope it was just a lonely and quiet Sunday afternoon talking and that you are having a fabulous Monday.
Hugs
Kat
I very much enjoyed the image of the person reading his life like a book. To me it reinforces the idea that there is a "meta-me" separate from but related to the me who is living here and now, and she watches what I do and experience. When I die she will draw me back to her (my thought anyway).
The second poem reflected what you told me about competing religions that waste everyone's time preaching everything BUT the truth, that we are all one.
I enjoy contemplating the nature of time, so I especially liked the last one, although I can't claim to understand it! Also, I greatly admire your vocabulary and your use of it. There were two words I don't know the meaning of ("wastrels" and "besot"), but many other that are rarely used in general conversation.
BTW, there must have been a glitch in Xanga -- I do still have this site.
how was your thanksgiving? what did u do with friends? what are you thankful for?:wave:
I like the first one best, but At One Time intrigued me, too. Sorry you didn't get to have a bit celebratory meal this year. . . but maybe you didn't miss it at all? You strike me as the kind of person who doesn't need a particular holiday to remind him to be thankful.
Dear Mike,
I appreciate your defining those words for me. I will make a point to open dictionary.com when I'm reading your poems! I don't like to repeat words either, and often I'll look for a synonym. But lately I haven't taken the time to edit my poetry before posting it, so it's still in its raw form.
Your explanation of "At One Time" was very helpful, and I have seen it in my own life. For me, though, it's not just a matter of age. My last two years have been full of drama and they seemed to move much more slowly than the two years before, but looking back I perceive the time passing quickly.
I like the metaphor of the rising sun representing hope, and normally that's how I see it. However, I did write "the pain rose" (in my poem list) which looks at the rising sun in a completely different way. That poem was cathartic and writing it allowed me to view sunrise as hope again. I find hope in all the cycles of nature. No matter what, they just keep going!:sunny:
I appreciate your thoroughness and the time you take in commenting. However, I can see why that makes it difficult for you to comment often! I don't usually write as much as you do in my comments but mine is often the longest one on the entry.
I have questions but I'm going to read your past writings first because they are probably answered there.
Your friend,
~Angie
i loved the first poem- the feelings it evoked, the images it created--- very nicely done! and i think days spent like yours are to be cherished- all too rare, and priceless!
ryc: i would be stunned to like The Departed more than Infernal Affairs, but I haven't seen it yet. It's on my list for sure. I wanted to see it on the big screen, but it wasn't here too long and it skipped the $1 movies too. I suspect that doesn't bode well for an Oscar run. I'll rent it. If you want to see another foreign film that didn't win best foreign film last year (and should have)- rent the Korean blockbuster called "The King and His Clown" about a real historical king and how he fell in love with jester. (Sounds lame- I know), but the director is one of the best and he uses puppets masterfully to underscore his theme that both the king and the jester were puppets in their roles placed on them by society. Great story, great acting, (so believable), and amazing sets. And yes- subtitles!
Reading my Like a Book... that is great.
Hugs, Tricia :wave:
I love the first one, it's wonderful
take care,
libby
just stopping to say hello.
the architecturally stunning art deco style exterior is all clean lines and crisp white canvas.