April 17, 2009

• ElectricPoetry: National Poetry Month Part 2

  

  "Imagimnasium:
  (A Wonderment Workout)"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  04/17/09 5:57 a.m. pdt

  Today we wonder, in a wonderful way
  And we should let our imagination play
  Wonder about life, lose our inhibition
  Let our fertile earth minds grow with fruition
   
  There is no wonder when we pass
   into the outer realm of heaven
  All of our questions are answered
  All of our worries are over

  There is no reason for the mind to wander
  When the reason for existence is known to all
  As it will be
  when we pass

  But until that time, the time of death
  The time when wonders cease
  Our minds are active whirlwinds
   blowing shards of reality away
  Exercise the imagination
  Embrace the promise of each coming day

   

  "Third Eye Blindness"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  04/17/09 6:08 a.m. pdt

  If I close the bright blue eyes of entity
  If I look through the third eye of enlightenment
  If I can dream waking of the illusive moment
  When we finally meet
  If I look closely at what I cannot see
  I might steal a glimpse of love

  If I would only be able to merge with
  rapturous ardor
  If I would only be able to prove
  my intent
  If I could yield to reality
  and open my heart for a moment
  I might stand at the shore of solitude
  and feel the waves of coupleship
  lap at my feet
  beackoning
  beguiling
  bewitching

  I break the bubble of my perception
  (as usual, sighing)
  The waves recede in the distance
  and the sun sets into the sea
  of seclusion
  Cold shivers of realization
  strike my frailty
  Many times has love arrived
  Many times have I stood at the shore
  waiting
  Many times, many years, many decades

  I will close the bright blue eyes of existence
  I will look through the third eye of emergence
  I will dream of meeting you again
  And I will feel of love
  I'm looking closely at what I cannot see
  A glimpse of stolen love fading away

   

  "Explanation"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/17/09 6:27 a.m. pdt

  I speak but will you listen
  And am I making sense?
  A yearning will I christen
  As I climb down from the fence

  I wish to ask you if I care
  And does this world revolve?
  How much more can I share
  Are there riddles I can solve?

  I might be talking to myself
  But was I making sense?
  I opened up my soul
  without vanity or pretense

  I've said what I want to say
  But did the words explain?
  Nakedly walking on broken glass
  This clearly breeds the pain

  I talk too much perhaps
  I speak before I think
  But were you really listening
  As I climbed down from the brink?

  Those who can't, teach, the dictum rails
  I'm learning all the time
  But speak or do, we tell the tales
  Is this salvation or our crime?

  I guess I'll keep on talking
  And hope you listen well
  I've got a few more years to stay
  And still more tales to tell

   

  "Train Ride to Nowhere"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/17/09 6:47 a.m. pdt

  Going through the motions, making plans and drinking potions
  Revolution notwithstanding, as we pass through understanding
  Will we ever learn, with money tight our funds we burn
  Spinning round and ready, never solid, stealthly steady

  Sun comes up around again, same as yesterday, remember when
  Eating hearty, then elimination, the train arrives at the next station
  Summing up our feeling, no revsions, as we're reeling
  Is the end at hand reclusive, going places, glances furtive

  Words are flowing freely, all inclusive, touchy feely
  Meaning is meandering, and truth is out philandering
  Along on the ride together, through the many shades of weather
  The train speeds past the station, with no regard to plans or reservation

   

  "Abre Los Ojos"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  4/17/09 7:14 a.m. pdt

  A somewhat futile exercise inhibits ecstasy for some
  And kindles absolution for others
  What is black might for all intents and purposes be white
  Perception isn't necessarily reality
  Nothing is everything
  And everything doesn't always make sense
  Nothing really matters
  inasmuch as everything does eventually
  A walk in the garden elicits natural highs
  Or else initiates allergies
  One can sometimes find answers which seem to have
  question marks attached
  Youth dismisses age
  And age yearns for youth
  Those clouds might hide hailstorms of harrowing portent
  or maybe just blue skies behind them
  Open your eyes to all.
  Questions,
  Revelations,
  Revolutions of intensity
  Sanity sometimes seems crazy, and
  what might seem preposterous is
  business as usual

  ---

  BEHIND THE POETRY: This is the second "spontaneous poetry" exercise for National Poetry Month, which is taking place during April in America. It contains five poems, all written right after each other.  Most poets are answering the challenge of writing a poem a day for the month, which will create 30 new poems. I never do anything like everybody else, so I'm writing "poetry blocks", containing five poems apiece. I posted the first of these on April 8th. This is the second post, and I'll attempt to come up with 30 poems by the end of the month, in a few more postings. For today's group, I began thinking of subjects on the drive to work. I had the title "Imagimnasium: A wonderment workout" and a kernal of the poem in my head when I began writing. Each of the other poems just grew from there. I began writing at about 6am, and finished these five at about 7:30. The first poem took 10 minutes to write. The second: 19 minutes. The third: 20 minutes. The fourth: about a half hour. The fifth: 15 minutes.

  Writer Jeff Markowitz (doahsdeer) has been interviewing Xanga poets all month on his blog. My interview is set for April 23rd. (Next Thursday.) It's worth your while, espeically if you are a poetry lover, to check out his site, read the interviews, and visit the poets he is featuring, some of whom I hadn't read, and all of whom write some fine pieces. Check it out. MFN/ppf

  • 10:55 am
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