August 13, 2011

• Wayback post: Electric Poetry: Best Poems of the 70s

  

  I am continually surprised and delighted when I find something in my "Webuniverse" (which includes www.allthingsmike.com and my blog, the one you're reading.) which I don't remember creating, and which serves to give a good "bird's eye view" of my outlook on life, via my poetry, prose, photography, videography, or observation. True, I don't blog as much, or present new material, but I believe as a longtime blogger, I have already presented material which might not have been seen by newer readers, so I always have a vast well of material upon which to draw. The following was first posted on July 10th 2007. It received 14 comments, and only one of those commenters is currently a reader of my blog of which I know. MFN/ppf 8/13/11

  Recently, I visited the site of a fellow poet, Eric (e Halcyon) who had written an excellent entry on his blog titled "What is Poetry."  When I left a comment on his entry, I provided the link to my Chronological Poetry website, ElectricPoetry.  Eric asked if I would post my "10 Best Poems" and I thought that was a great idea. I haven't "quality assessed" my poetry in a long time. I've written over 800 poems by now, and while attempting to compile a list from the "beginning", in 1967, I noticed quite early that I would never be able to narrow it down to "just 10" favorites or "best of" poems. So beginning with this entry, I am going to display my 10 Best poems of each decade. The first decade in which I wrote seriously was the Seventies. I believe all of these poems have possibly appeared on this blog before, and I deliberately did not include any of the "epics" which take a long time to read. For those of you who are longtime readers, "Visions" and "Confrontation With Reality" are a couple of  poems here that I don't remember including in any blogposts lately, at least. "On Poetry" was just recently shown here. The second poem, "Like Ships That Pass, etc." remains my own favorite poem of everything I've ever written. I'm always amused by the comments I receive telling me that I've "grown" as a writer when comparing some of the early stuff to present poetry. I sometimes wonder if I didn't "date stamp" them showing you, in most instances the exact minute of my history when I composed the poem, if anyone would be able to tell me how old I was when writing a specific poem. Without further ado,  Eric, and readers, here is the list of my "10 Best Poems of the Seventies".

  "Peace a Chance"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  1970 (17 years old)

  
  March for a flower
  Blossoming in a pasture
  Shoot for a bluebird
  Flying through the trees
  Stop for an hour
  Admiring the mink's fur
  Speak for a true word
  Bending troubled knees

  Where do the bullets go
  Streaming through the stale air
  Why do the people die
  Falling in the mud
  Listen to the wind blow
  Turn to them who care
  America under sky
  Where our fathers trod

  Why are there enemies
  Why is there war
  Why is there garbage
  Why strife above
  Why not intimacies
  Why not care
  Why not a new age
  Why not love

  
  "Like Ships That Pass Etc."
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  1971 (17 years old)

  
  We come here every day
  And sit and stare
  And work
  And occasionally I steal a glance at you
  And you look back.

  Then we turn away
  To what we were doing
  And concentrate
  And feelings pass through our heads
  And we don't know what it means.

  You are so beautiful
  I say quietly
  I curse
  And watch you patiently never knowing
  That you watch me too.

  We come here every day
  And we wonder
  Why we falter
  In grasping each other's emotions
  Then we turn our backs again.

  And silently cry.

  "God Proved Himself to Me"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  Dec. 17, 1973 12:00 noon

  Your house is a sanctuary, as is the very mind:
  Being is a sanctuary for others, as well as self.
  I am a mindless innocent, as are all others
  Redeeming values are valueless to some
  I cannot live without the touch
  of God, be it through a
  Spiritual Revelation,
  Or simply by a touch
  of someone who cares.
  Bibles, notebooks,
  Sunday Choirs are
  meaningless without
  a true awareness
  of Spirit, a thorough
  knowledge of your own
  Personal God, no matter who
  He may be. My Prayers and
  Yours may have different words,
  But they are essentially the same
  Prayer. My God and yours may have
  Different names, but they are certainly
  The same God. Others will try to
  convince, but they might only be
  trying to convince themselves.
  As long as we know God
  As long as we care, we
  are saved, and we
  need no further
  .Proof.

  St. Matthew Chapter 7, Verses 1-5
  Peace

  
  "After the Last Love Songs"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  January 4, 1974 9:45 p.m.

  Yes, some can turn to everybody else,
  Pretending they're extremely extroverted,
  masking all their hopes in return for a date,
  But as I gaze upon
  all the young girls
  With their inward smiles and
  locked-up diaries, I find I'm looking for an open
  book-
  Not a page on Saturday night,
  But a novel to peruse with my existence.
  I will find her someday
  But until that time I'll keep trying,
  Wistfully writing my last love songs to her
  And hoping someday she'll pick one up
  and read

  
  "Visions"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  November 26, 1974

  
  In obsessive moments I can vision
  All the world and all it's thoughts
  Every rustle leaves can murmur
  Every corner of the mind
  I can stand on memory's tower
  Shouting silent wordless hymns
  Reaping muddied harvest fruits
  And picking leaves off barren limbs

  While in states where minds can wander
  Notwithstanding mortal pains
  I will find I seek no other
  Perfect state to hail my gains
  Yet in perfect worlds while wand'ring
  Realism breeds decay
  When we ponder bout tomorrow
  We forget the world today

  As the realistic dons it's coat
  Of rusted dreams
  Shatters light delusions with it's
  Realistic schemes
  Finishing our candles when they
  Burn but can't be seen
  Tarnishing our futures, always
  Damaging the sheen.

  I can hail my revolutionary
  Carriage of the mind
  And in it travel everyplace
  Where I dare find
  The doorways where my thoughts
  Will travel, heeded only by
  The Wind.
  Yet the realistic barriers
  Will serve to let the carriages
  Tarry on their way to perfect peace.

  
  "On Poetry"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 27, 1975

  
  The words escaping from my lips
  Have seen the light of day before
  The apple of my love's delight
  Has never shown it's core.
  And as I read those words I wrote
  They seem to mean less now-
  For as I have more things to say
  I've just forgotten how.
  I'm all mixed up inside, you see
  Though I've said that too, I know
  And as I sit with turbulent mind
  My words find it hard to flow.
  I cannot say why I want to scream
  Or why I'm crying too.
  Or why I think I'll never make sense
  To anyone else or you.

  
  "Reading Me Like a Book"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  January 16 1976

  
  Could someone remove the tattered binding
  Staining my yellowed pages
  And read those words which once made sense
  But now seem like collective gibberish

  Oh, but for a moment ponder,
  And recite those faded memories
  And languish in the feelings of
  Old emotions

  Then read me- touch my skin
  And rattle off of how I'm deeply
  etched
  Of how the poetry sends thoughts
  to heaven
  And the world is only a resting
  place for my desires

  Write a book report about me
  Take it to school and get an A
  Because it was an easy novel to read
  Descriptions on every page
  Excitement in every chapter

  They skipped the parts that were
  really harrowing
  And relied on heavy tearjerkers
  about love and doubt

  It's all there on paper
  So read me like a book
  Because I've tried and failed.
  It's all in a foreign language
  The syntax is all wrong

  I've asked you to do this
  Because I've forgotten how.
  Look in my mirror and tell
  me what I see.
  Listen to my voice and tell
  me what I hear.
  Feel my heartbeat and tell
  me why my hands are outstretched

  Read my final chapters
  Because I am afraid

  Did the author understand what
  he had written?

  
  "Confrontation With Reality"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 12, 1977 9:00 p.m.

  
  I'm leaning on emotions
  I don't understand commotions
  Which rely on people
  Comprehending nothing.

  I grasp for greater notions
  As I gulp confusion potions
  And if I call to people
  They don't understand my pleas.

  I can tell that I am losing
  And I'm clouded with confusion
  I can see and then
  I can't see where I'm at now.

  The confrontations with reality
  Are lacking in vitality
  I am reaching
  But I fall with bended knees.

  My thoughts are floating higher
  And they'll fade right in the sky or
  They will fall to earth
  And no one will want to listen.

  I'm leaning on emotions
  I don't understand commotions
  And if I call to people
  They don't understand my pleas.

   

  "Where can we find the love poems?anymore"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  December 13, 1977 11 a.m.

  
  I've scaled the tallest peaks of yore,
  And crawled till Sol had lost her rays
  I conquered armies by the score
  All I'm left with are my cliches.
  The moment's meditations
  Expand past finite time
  I lose recurring visions
  No one to solve this crime

  In speculative, romantic years gone by
  I cherished dear my inclination
  And now, I fear, I breathe a sigh
  I'm left with no infatuation.
  I once wrote long ago
  "Hey love, don't pass me by."
  Where does all this romance go?
  I wonder as I cry.

  I wandered through the forests vast
  And suffered pains of unrequite
  I've accomplished much in poems past
  Now there's no gallantry left in sight
  I wrote so long ago
  "Love, talk with me a while."
  I guess she's gone forever
  I feebly attempt a smile.

  
  "A Personal Note"
  Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
  September 29, 1978 7:15 p.m .

  
  "poetry of sorts"

  There is a moment
  A precious moment
  When the mind will choose to linger
  And the heart will charm the mind to do what's best
  And at this precious moment
  This bright and precious moment
  Love will shine and take care of the rest.

  I've never felt this moment
  I've never felt this moment
  I've never been as much in love as this
  But I felt it when
  You touched me
  with your kiss.

  I know they say that love can move a mountain
  I know they say that love can blind the sun
  But even though I do believe
  What they say that love can do
  I never felt it till I found the only one.

  There is a feeling
  A precious feeling
  Where you cease to care what's happ'ning
  And your heart commands the timeto do what's best
  And with this precious feeling
  You don't care what you're feeling
  As you let love take care of the rest.

  I've never felt this feeling
  I've never felt this feeling
  I've never been as much in love as this
  But I felt it when you touched me with your kiss.

  I know I've written reams that say what love is.
  I know I say that love is what I feel.
  But even though I always thought
  That what I thought was true.
  I never knew it till I found out it was real.

  • 8:24 pm
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