Today's poet

[freckle]

Love comes quietly
Robert Creeley

Love comes quietly,
finally, drops
around me, on me,
in the old ways.

What did I know,
thinking myself
able to go
alone all the way?

[Derby Tup]

Love comes quietly
Robert Creeley

Love comes quietly,
finally, drops
around me, on me,
in the old ways.

What did I know,
thinking myself
able to go
alone all the way?

I see you've put a credit on this now freckle. Nice choice (I thought you'd written it)

[freckle]

I see you've put a credit on this now freckle. Nice choice (I thought you'd written it)

ah yes...a honest mistake!....:-)...its the dimished blood flow to the brain i think!

[Nee Bother]

Alone in the Woods

Under the trees
where no-one goes
a sound
a smell
you sense it there
as you stroll along

Among the leaves
where you can't see
a noise
a shape
you feel a shudder
and move quickly on

Somewhere back there
you'll never know
some thing
some one
was anything there
or my mind all along?

NB

[Alf]

Our Valley

We don't see the ocean, not ever, but in July and August
when the worst heat seems to rise from the hard clay
of this valley, you could be walking through a fig orchard
when suddenly the wind cools and for a moment
you get a whiff of salt, and in that moment you can almost
believe something is waiting beyond the Pacheco Pass,
something massive, irrational, and so powerful even
the mountains that rise east of here have no word for it.

You probably think I'm nuts saying the mountains
have no word for ocean, but if you live here
you begin to believe they know everything.
They maintain that huge silence we think of as divine,
a silence that grows in autumn when snow falls
slowly between the pines and the wind dies
to less than a whisper and you can barely catch
your breath because you're thrilled and terrified.

You have to remember this isn't your land.
It belongs to no one, like the sea you once lived beside
and thought was yours. Remember the small boats
that bobbed out as the waves rode in, and the men
who carved a living from it only to find themselves
carved down to nothing. Now you say this is home,
so go ahead, worship the mountains as they dissolve in dust,
wait on the wind, catch a scent of salt, call it our life.


Philip Levine

[freckle]

Alone in the Woods

Under the trees
where no-one goes
a sound
a smell
you sense it there
as you stroll along

Among the leaves
where you can't see
a noise
a shape
you feel a shudder
and move quickly on

Somewhere back there
you'll never know
some thing
some one
was anything there
or my mind all along?

NB

this is lovely NB, its really well constructed and flows nicely and I think will speak to many a night time runner! nice one :-)

[freckle]

Chaos theory

Imagine
On one selected day
You didn’t exchange those few words
There was a distinct lack of coincidence
No cognitions of “what if” and “but I shouldn’t”.

A moment gone
As the long chain of iron
Stretched on, retaining its grip
On a self oblivious to permutation
And only dimly aware
Of the wilting tulips.

[freckle]

Our Valley

We don't see the ocean, not ever, but in July and August
when the worst heat seems to rise from the hard clay
of this valley, you could be walking through a fig orchard
when suddenly the wind cools and for a moment
you get a whiff of salt, and in that moment you can almost
believe something is waiting beyond the Pacheco Pass,
something massive, irrational, and so powerful even
the mountains that rise east of here have no word for it.

You probably think I'm nuts saying the mountains
have no word for ocean, but if you live here
you begin to believe they know everything.
They maintain that huge silence we think of as divine,
a silence that grows in autumn when snow falls
slowly between the pines and the wind dies
to less than a whisper and you can barely catch
your breath because you're thrilled and terrified.

You have to remember this isn't your land.
It belongs to no one, like the sea you once lived beside
and thought was yours. Remember the small boats
that bobbed out as the waves rode in, and the men
who carved a living from it only to find themselves
carved down to nothing. Now you say this is home,
so go ahead, worship the mountains as they dissolve in dust,
wait on the wind, catch a scent of salt, call it our life.


Philip Levine

JUst Awesome Alf! captures something very transcendental about the mountains.....lush, lush, lush! welcome back!

[Alf]

Chaos theory

Imagine
On one selected day
You didn’t exchange those few words
There was a distinct lack of coincidence
No cognitions of “what if” and “but I shouldn’t”.

A moment gone
As the long chain of iron
Stretched on, retaining its grip
On a self oblivious to permutation
And only dimly aware
Of the wilting tulips.

Lovely poem that freckle Did you finish 'Great Expectations' by the way?

[Alf]

JUst Awesome Alf! captures something very transcendental about the mountains.....lush, lush, lush! welcome back!

"and you can barely catch
your breath because you're thrilled and terrified."

Just like I felt doing the Kielder Borderer last weekend!