The Bloggers With The Most To Say
20SB Poetry Hall
I thought it would be a fun idea to have a place where poets can share and express themselves in words. To get things started, I'll share a poem of mine. The rules of this discussion are flexible: Comment on others poems if you feel moved by them, add your own - however many you wish. :-)
Air
Because love fights
not only in burning forests
but in the hearts of men and women,
I will end up in war
with those who interpose their filthy feet
between my breast and your calming scent.
They will tell you blindly,
nothing worse about me, my love,
than I have revealed to you.
I lived in abandoned cabins
before I knew you
and I did not wait for love but walked
in ambush and stood upon a sunflower.
How much more could they reveal to you?
I am not an angel nor a filthy maiden, just a woman,
and they then add the fear
of my life, which you have heard
and with your compassion you have shared.
This fear
is the fear to love, to completely fall in love
toward all life,
given to all lives.
If this love precedes
death or prison,
I trust that your amber eyes,
as I kiss them,
will seel off the pain,
and lock it away, my love,
with your spirit and mine.
But pursuing my ears these words will come
to undermine the well
of sweet and fragrant love that binds us,
and they will say: "That man
that you love
is no man for you,
why do you love him? I think
you could find one more handsome,
strong, more serious, more intelligent,
look at his actions and what he has,
and look at how he dresses
and so on and so on."
To you I profess:
I love you, my love,
I love you,
the way in which you dress
and as your hair
sets in the sun and moon
and as your mouth smiles,
tender as a rose
from the roots in which it grows,
to your very soul I love you.
Of water I do not ask it to fill me
but that it not evaporate
during each day of my life.
I have no knowledge of air, where
it came about or how it was made,
I only need it to fill my lungs,
I have never asked for explanations
of the sunset,
I await its destination and it soothes me,
and there you are, water
and air and light.
You arrived in my life
with what you were,
I waited for you,
made of water, air, and light,
and for that I need you,
for who you are I love you.
Those who want to hear in the future
what I will not reveal, let them read it here,
and let them flee today because it's too early
for these words.
In the coming days we shall reveal
the fountain of our love, a river
that will travel along earth
as if our lips have filled it,
like a kiss that drank from an ocean
to show the fire and the compassion
of a true love.
-Rebecca Cooper
05-16-03
©2003-Present Rebecca Cooper
Air
Because love fights
not only in burning forests
but in the hearts of men and women,
I will end up in war
with those who interpose their filthy feet
between my breast and your calming scent.
They will tell you blindly,
nothing worse about me, my love,
than I have revealed to you.
I lived in abandoned cabins
before I knew you
and I did not wait for love but walked
in ambush and stood upon a sunflower.
How much more could they reveal to you?
I am not an angel nor a filthy maiden, just a woman,
and they then add the fear
of my life, which you have heard
and with your compassion you have shared.
This fear
is the fear to love, to completely fall in love
toward all life,
given to all lives.
If this love precedes
death or prison,
I trust that your amber eyes,
as I kiss them,
will seel off the pain,
and lock it away, my love,
with your spirit and mine.
But pursuing my ears these words will come
to undermine the well
of sweet and fragrant love that binds us,
and they will say: "That man
that you love
is no man for you,
why do you love him? I think
you could find one more handsome,
strong, more serious, more intelligent,
look at his actions and what he has,
and look at how he dresses
and so on and so on."
To you I profess:
I love you, my love,
I love you,
the way in which you dress
and as your hair
sets in the sun and moon
and as your mouth smiles,
tender as a rose
from the roots in which it grows,
to your very soul I love you.
Of water I do not ask it to fill me
but that it not evaporate
during each day of my life.
I have no knowledge of air, where
it came about or how it was made,
I only need it to fill my lungs,
I have never asked for explanations
of the sunset,
I await its destination and it soothes me,
and there you are, water
and air and light.
You arrived in my life
with what you were,
I waited for you,
made of water, air, and light,
and for that I need you,
for who you are I love you.
Those who want to hear in the future
what I will not reveal, let them read it here,
and let them flee today because it's too early
for these words.
In the coming days we shall reveal
the fountain of our love, a river
that will travel along earth
as if our lips have filled it,
like a kiss that drank from an ocean
to show the fire and the compassion
of a true love.
-Rebecca Cooper
05-16-03
©2003-Present Rebecca Cooper
Tags: Discussion, Poems, Poetry
Replies to This Discussion
-
Permalink Reply by floreta on -
I'll post an old one of mine that's back in my archives a bit. You can see recent ones on my blog.. I post at least one poem a week but usually more.
--------
Elephant Graves
We mourn Old Love like
the passing of an elephant
encrusted in its skeletal grave
The herd pauses
to remember
honor
the memory of what once was
Their strong trunks
and ivory tusks
Move on
With the gathering of dawn to dusk
A new day comes
the sun will always rise
its magnificent red bleaches the sky
enamoured by its colors
I form New Love
With my self this time
Within my self
With myself
The land stretches on for miles upon the horizon
The unknown points only forward
Africa calls the traveling heart
The solitary panda
marches on
to the beat of a new drum
Exotic rhythms tackle percussion
Rawhide skin stretches enclaves of desert canyons
The dance will never end
Echoing hearts and unstable winds
Never anchored to one land
We live worlds apart
The elephant calls its mighty din
A new time has come
For exploration and strength
The herd stampedes through one land
Migrating onwards
Time will tell what may come
And maybe someday
They will visit the elephant grave again
In passing, in pause, and onward again
-
Permalink Reply by Damon on -
These Words
I want these words to dutifully pirouette while encompassed about by a chorus of doubters which has only but a seed of hope within it.
I want these words to thoroughly invigorate the sound system that resides on the outside of your pupils understanding they’re the only way to truly reach your soul.
I want these words to resonate in the depths of man’s heart to where it skips a beat or three at the thought of freedom’s cost.
I want these words to teach a lesson that can’t be learned from a chalkboard, overhead or in Power Point presentation because life is our best classroom.
I want these words to breathe an air into your lungs so foreign that when you exhale you’re gasping for their breed of oxygenation.
I want these words to satiate the insatiable, infuriate the capable so they will learn some have been enabled by a source which contends their existence is for naught.
I want these words to stir you up like a stew brewing on a stove patiently waiting with little else to do aside from contemplate these truths:
Life is giving. Giving is love. Love is hard. Hard makes jealousy. Jealousy breeds hate. Hate is easy. Easy is fear. Fear is debilitating. Debilitating is death. Death is inevitable.
But like a rumor mill, inevitability doesn’t have to be your life’s plight.
Give what you know. Know what you have. Have what you mean. Mean what you sow.
Because sowing a seed of contempt is akin to knocking on death’s door before you’ve been called. So many reach to answer the phone and it hasn’t even rung. When it does though, for you, I pray, somehow, some way, the meaning of these words equate to your life’s sum.
-
Permalink Reply by cooper on -
Nice guys. Thanks for sharing the poetry. I write horrible poetry, which is why the tags on the top of my post pages reads "bad poetry, awesome poet". I love to read poetry though.
I was actually thinking about making my "Should Be Famous" Blog, a blog I started last year but barely have time to post in every two months, into a place where people can write a poem about why
they should be famous with a links to their blog, because I hate that I don't have time to write in it.
-
Permalink Reply by David Stehle on -
I don't think I'm brave enough to post anything right now.
-
Permalink Reply by Eric on -
Women and Cities
I fall in love with their cities,
The women I fall in love with
Their neighborhoods, the pretty people
The pretty buildings, restaurants,
As much as with them
I see their houses when I see them
Smell the sandalwood, the warm air
Quilts and afghans on couches,
Hotel blankets
Hotel paintings
When I remember the women
It’s the city I see
The city that’s defined us
And the feeling of my fingers on your back
Is as familiar as my hand on a railing
Or a brick
Noel, a fellow 20SBer, has recently launched an online lit magazine. Find it at www.circumlocutionlit.com I managed to get one published. You folks ought to try it.
-
Permalink Reply by Rebecca on -
3
Overlooked poets: in life and death
harassed, with the same stiff-necked rules,
and then smothered in thick pulp,
guided by rituals, to a casket
like a caged bird without wings.
Twisted as rope now, they are tied
onto an arrogant stallion, to fall asleep
in the middle of a protest, hammered by their signs.
Who, by then, are locked dead in their caskets,
now with pleasure the crowd is collected
to celebrate with high noses and swelled breasts
upon their funeral.
They corrupted their lives, and now they hide it-
only because they've stitched up their mouths:
they no longer can defend their song.
-Rebecca Cooper
06-19-03
©2003 - Present Rebecca Cooper
© 2012 Created by Lisa.
