May all victims of war and violence rest in peace,
and may we all learn at long last to live in peace.
“You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home & pray you'll never know
The hell where youth & laughter go.”
~ Siegfried Sassoon
from his poem, "Suicide in the Trenches," 1918
Written during his decorated military service in WWI. #MemorialDay#poem
A moment on this Earth to live, to die,<br></br>as real and unrelenting as a dream;<br></br>phenomena and phantoms pass us by,<br></br>as empty of importance as they seem.<br></br><br></br>We are by choice beneath illusion’s sway,<br></br>our shadowed spirits subject to a whim –<br></br>each phantom a reflection, in its way,<br></br>upon a mirror desolate and dim.<br></br><br></br>One moment we are hidden in a crowd,<br></br>another we go lonely to the grave;<br></br>but ere we don the ceremonial shroud,<br></br>we glimpse the bright reflection that we crave:<br></br>that phantoms, hidden by the dream-world’s mist,<br></br>reveal a fellow dreamer’s lips when kissed.<br></br>
“But why should the daffodils and tulips
Get all the praise and blessings?
My rebirth goes unnoticed — I am worthy
Of smiles and dazzled cries of worship.”
— Lea Malot
The mind's a needle that draws a thread:<br></br>the body, knotted in the head,<br></br>secured by axons to its guide.<br></br>They dart through fibers woven tight<br></br>and restless seek the other side<br></br>of veils they've fashioned on their travels.<br></br><br></br>As they cross paths, they bind and tangle,<br></br>and jockey for the perfect angle<br></br>to sew a stitch of their design<br></br>on a sheet of endless space and time;<br></br>but when the thread cuts free at last, <br></br>the needlepoint’s all that remains:<br></br>the fabric of the veil unravels.<br></br>
SLOW RENGA Respond with #haiku using the suggested first lines & start each haiku with the same first lines below: DISSONANCE… or LISTENING TO RAIN… Post haiku in comments, enjoy mulling over the first line and considering your options at different points during your day. Look forward to reading your haiku and seeing where these lines take you. #Writing#poetry#creativity#wellbeing#write#writingcommunity#amwriting#poem#writer
The best of life is left unlived:<br></br>the mass of moments absent mind,<br></br>explosions over in an instant<br></br>that leave a trace of warmth behind.<br></br>An afterimage of<em> la petite mort</em>,<br></br>the comfort of oblivious sleep;<br></br>the edges of experience blur<br></br>and hint at blisses we can’t keep.<br></br><br></br>The best parts lie just out of grasp,<br></br>we tell ourselves; we keep content<br></br>to live beyond the reach of joy<br></br>until our lives are fully spent.<br></br><br></br>These fleeting things that sight can’t bear,<br></br>these haunting ghosts of ecstasy,<br></br>leave deep lacunas lingering<br></br>in yet-unwritten history.<br></br>They leave the dreams of coming days<br></br>dyed in inverted afterglows:<br></br>the ache for something yet to be,<br></br>a secret glee that no-one knows.<br></br><br></br>So this, it seems, is pleasure’s form: <br></br>a blip upon the radar screen.<br></br>Chased with dauntless vigor, <br></br>but hardly ever seen.<br></br>
For several million years, we’ve bowed to fate,<br></br>we’ve been locked in an arms race eons old.<br></br>It’s only now we can retaliate<br></br>against the architect; we’ve rolled<br></br>the dice of evolution many times,<br></br>and been subjected to its harsh selection.<br></br><br></br>We’ve been the victim of its many crimes.<br></br>Now we’ve perfected our means of protection,<br></br>and tamed the outer world – but not the inner.<br></br><br></br>This life belongs to you, the fittest ape,<br></br>in this long game you are the winner –<br></br>you are the pinnacle and can escape<br></br>the chains of selfish interest placed at birth:<br></br>create the world you wish to see on Earth.<br></br>