December 13, 2007

• ElectricPoetry: Some New Poems

  

   

  “Marking Time”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 13, 2007 6:06 a.m. pst

  
  Meandering moments bring such wondrous joy
  A crashing wave against the shore
  Sunlit gardenias with smiling petals
  Fitful starlings chirping with abandon
  The grinning face of a stranger

  Moments which register with fleeting yet reverent memory
  Ready to be summoned to the forever

  These moments can cause pain to flee
  And morose dalliance to disappear
  And in time, they too will be gone
  Because they are only moments in time
  Tricking our observance with their timeless wings

  Uneventful seconds tick with purpose
  Yet our purpose seems sometimes stifling
  Or swept away with boredom’s broomstick
  Random special moments amass past preciousness
  Becoming errant reminders of fleeting lives

  We forget each special moment as it flies by with ease
  And rarely does sweet recollection seem to matter

  Moment after moment lasting long into our existence
  Collecting the terrific, the tremulous and the trite times indefinitely
  Each specific juncture becoming forgotten in the mix of time
  Until all become weak silent conscious reminders of mortality
  And we tend to forget the moments and can’t remember their certain distinction

  Fleeting moments cease the rushing tide of our lifetimes
  If only for a moment, or else we’re only marking time

   

  

  “The Returning of Christmas in Southern California”
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 13, 2007 6:32 a.m. pst

  
  A million little white lights strung along countless eaves
  Icicled pretenders twinkling in the dark
  Inflatable Santas riding Harleys and wearing flip flops
  Giant snow globes resting on  brown green lawns
  Christmas trees fashioned from plastic and steel
  Heavenly angels looking skyward into cloudless blue

  Here and there an almost forgotten Nativity scene
  Dusted off and displayed, even with the nicks
  on the Baby Jesus’ body
  And Melchior, the slightly leaning Magi
  almost toppling into the styrofoam pillars

  Eighty dollar douglas firs peeking from
  plate glass windows in the McMansions,
  draped with designer decorations
  bought in mass from the local Costco
  Under which piles of boxes from
  WalMart and Target and Kohls
  make ready to be opened on Christmas Day

  Outside in the cold clear night
  the partially bundled homeless patrol the streets
  collecting cans and bottles from the
  mismatched trash cans on the curb
  For them Christmas is just another day

  And on that day,
  Thousands of Razor scooters and new bicycles
  careen onto the freshly slurried macadam
  on countless Southern California streets
  and the smiles on the children seem genuine
  If only for a moment.

  Then the sun falls into the horizon,
  The broken toys and the dying Eighty dollar firs
  are collected by the side of the road
  with the mismatched trash cans on the curb
  and the partially bundled homeless
  continue their patrol unabated
  as Christmas Carols fade into the darkness for another year

   

  “The Christmas Dream”  
  a Cathy poem
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 24, 1978 12:15 p.m

   

  Listen to the happy children
  Ecstatic voices
  Open the door and smile
  Listen to the same music
  Write a poem
  My world

  Sleighbells in the mind
  A wonderful large tree
  Adorned with love
  Quite a few people
  Endowed with spirit
  Your world

  I long for your world

   

  
  “Christmas Spiritual “
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri 
  December 21, 2004 : 4:58 a.m. pst
   

  
  Rudimentary ruminations concerning the Holiday Spirit
  Alone this Christmas again but depression hasn’t yet
  Come in the back door like Santa begging for cookies and milk
  Remembering the soft slow wait as the days turned
  And the little windows on the countdown card were opened
  Remembering the subtle sound of sleighbells
  Even though White Christmas is a dream in California
  Remembering the silent night,
  And becoming the loudest purest voice in the choir
  Memories fade with time, but gain luster brimming with Spirit
  My life becomes meager and insignificant
  When compared to those whose Holiday Spirit
  Fills the auras around them so beautifully
  My Spirit becomes underdeflated and morose
  But lifts immeasurably when confronted with
  The thoughts and deeds of others who are so caring
  I pause for prayer, perusing the Heavens for clues
  I shudder for humanity (again)
  Yet relish memories of Christmas Past
  And the Great Turkeys of memory taste even better
  When the Spirit permeates the Season.
  Elucidating emmisaries of Good Will
  Permitting me to enjoy a modicum of Family togetherness
  Even after mine disintegrated
  For these moments I am thankful and filled with Spirit
  Thoughts of good people involved with their community
  Feelings of fantastic regard and overjoyed with gladness
  Year after year the small trinkets of specialness abound
  So that now, relaxed, evenly keeled, in the port of Happiness
  My ship rests in the berth of Kindness
  Gladly celebratory, and suddenly Spiritual Again.
  May God Bless Us Each And Every One.

  ---

  BEHIND THE POETRY:  The first two are brand new. I just wrote them about an hour ago. I hope the message in “Marking Time” is a positive one for most readers. So often time seems to go by so fast, we seldom think of time passing as a series of eventful moments. Sorry for the somewhat dour tone of “The Returning of Christmas in Southern California”. I can’t help but notice the juxtaposition of all the decorated “McMansions” with no hint of humanity at all, who are hidden behind closed doors, while the only people on the scene are those who cannot enjoy the holiday at all. The third selection is a “Cathy poem” from 1978, and the last is from a particularly poem heavy year, 2004, and is a bit more hopeful in spirit. Happy Holidays from AllThingsMike. MFN/ppf.

  

  • 10:13 am
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