From time to time a poem

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13 Jul 2017 17:48 - 13 Jul 2017 17:49 #290750 by Wescli Wardest
Beyond the depths of my vision,
Void fills the darkness.

Behind the lies of smiles,
Sacred men spark life to deceptive ends at the cost of fool’s souls.
Gnashing teeth strike out the hateful song,
As power and greed tick the metronome of discourse.

False recourse,
An errant deed of loyalty brings this to bare,
Engulfing tides of corruption drone down the screams and gasps,
Of men drowning in the wakes undertow.

What light breaks through,
Once the eve of such horror has set in motion,
And can of effect be to yield the crushing depths,
Or hold back lest save one from the impending desperate end,
That one Knight may garnish a beacon of hope.

But damned eternal will be which does not dare,
Or brave,
But idle bespake,
Or covenant made,
Action did not take.

~Me

Monastic Order of Knights
Last edit: 13 Jul 2017 17:49 by Wescli Wardest.
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17 Jul 2017 18:49 #291235 by
Replied by on topic From time to time a poem
Lacking words of wisdom
No place to be wrong
Reasons and excuses
How can it go on

Quick to point a finger
Refusing any blame
Hide behind a mask
And a clever username

Disguising your true nature
Pretending that you know
Caught up in the ego
Nowhere left to grow

Desperate for escape
Anything to ease the pain
Can't hide from your heart
When you're alone again
-Reliah

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24 Jul 2017 20:30 #292663 by Brick
Replied by Brick on topic From time to time a poem
IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

RUDYARD KIPLING

Apprentice to Maitre Chevalier Jedi Alexandre Orion

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'The only contest any of us should be engaged in is with ourselves, to be better than yesterday'

- Knight Senan
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03 Aug 2017 18:14 #294490 by
Replied by on topic From time to time a poem

There is Only the Force


A calm settles in face of the storm.
Hurricane floods emotion.
Tornado rips perception.
The eye of the storm is the true nature.
There is only the Force.

A foot treads further down a road.
Cloaked, discretion a shroud of justice.
The gravel crunches underfoot.
An imprint of synergy to those who will it.
Life births and consumes life.
There is only the Force.

A life experienced, a path wandered.
Ceaseless, always to renew.
The spirit drives.
The body follows.
A guide on the path of serenity.
There is only the Force. ---Kal Sterner

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14 Aug 2017 20:37 #297342 by Brick
Replied by Brick on topic From time to time a poem
One of my favourites as a child :laugh:

The Painting Lesson

“What’s THAT, dear?” asked the new teacher.
“It’s Mummy,” I replied.
“But mums aren’t green and orange!
You really haven’t TRIED.
You don’t just paint in SPLODGES
You’re old enough to know
You need to THINK before you work…
Now – have another go.”
She helped me draw two arms and legs,
A face with sickly smile,
A rounded body, dark brown hair,
A hat-and in a while,
She stood back
(with her face bright pink):
“That’s SO much better –
Don’t you think?”
But she turned white
At ten to three
When an orange-green blob
Collected me.
“Hi, Mum!”

Trevor Harvey

Apprentice to Maitre Chevalier Jedi Alexandre Orion

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'The only contest any of us should be engaged in is with ourselves, to be better than yesterday'

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14 Aug 2017 21:58 #297350 by Amaya
Replied by Amaya on topic From time to time a poem
There is a hole in the world
I glimpse it from the corner of my eye,
Side step so that I dont fall,
Yet it bothers me.
Its red,
You would think it should be black
But it is red...
It bleeds you see,
This hole in the world.
It flows just under the reality we see
And sometimes it breaks through and it makes a hole,
A hole in the world.
Not a fault, not a crack, but a hole,
Sometimes, late at night when everywhere is silent and even the stars are grey,
I think it grows..
But we wont talk about that.
We wont say a word.
Because if its spoken,
If we bring it out to your attention,
Then you might see
And then its more than before,
Two seeing makes it solid
And solid holes can drain a reality.
Dont believe me?
What do you think was before?
And where did it go?
Its there,
Hidden deep within that red hole
That I see from the corner of my eye.
If I close my eyes it shifts
I hear it...
It rustles you see, like dead leaves
I dont like that noise,
Its a silent heaviness that weighs on my soul,
Sometimes it keeps pace with my heartbeat
Sometimes it flows
I cant sleep
For if I dont consciously keep it in mind
Then it seeks to entice my shell to slip inside...
And its red in there
And dark
And so very very deep...
So I watch
From the corner of my eye
And I listen closely
All that is, all that was and all that will be
It flows in that beautiful red.
So I stay watchful
And dont sleep
For without me
It may flow
And the hole
Will be all we are
Its hungry
We are its prey
And it moves
Did I tell you that?
Did I explain?
I cant answer the door anymore
Or talk on the phone..
I have to pay attention
I have to be fully here
So that I see
It moves you see
I dont
And I wait
But the red is enticing
And the depth looks so peaceful
And....
Wait....it moves...and flows....

Everything is belief
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15 Aug 2017 01:36 #297395 by
Replied by on topic From time to time a poem
From Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"

"Maybe there's a God above
All I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"

Thinking of a dear friend this evening. Your faith is shaken, but mine in you remains. Inside me is a cold and broken hallelujah, but an honest one nonetheless.

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16 Aug 2017 22:23 - 16 Aug 2017 22:27 #297794 by Edan
Replied by Edan on topic From time to time a poem
Thanks Brick for poking me such that I finally got this down this evening...

~~~~~
Another random writing...


I can see my dream in the movement of the pool.. the water trembles slightly under the occasional breath of air causing undulations reflecting weak candlelight.. the light is bright for just a moment every now and then before fading away into darkness below the surface.

Dreams are like a strange television where you get to be both spectator and actor at once. Here I am again the spectator, watching as it unfolds again before me, scrying the faint ripples for the images I remember from my sleep.

The car is sinking.. slowly but surely it is filling with water and I know there is no time. We are far down and I know that if we do not open the windows wide enough once the air is gone, we will not escape. I can see the others but though they look at me I cannot tell if they understand... ‘open the windows’ I try and sign before going for my own. The water has risen and only two inches of air space remain.. the others are not moving, they simply stare at me while my mind begins to believe I may be trapped, the window not budging beneath my hands.

And, like the fictional visions that always end before the resolution, the image of the car fades and I am left only with my questions.

“How am I supposed to know what happens?”

He’s stepped around the pool and sat at the edge on the other side, gazing a little into it.

“What makes you think you’re supposed to know?” Never a straight answer...

“What use is a vision without its end?”

He laughs, “why does any protagonist receive a vision without an end?”

“Not all dreams lack resolution though.... the invisible man...” I could see His eyes focus a little, He turned round more so that He had almost come to face me...

“You chose to give into him, did you not?” He slid so that he was standing, hands on the side of the pool facing directly at me. “He pursued you through all dreams unrelentlessly so that when there was the choice to accept death you took it... there was resolution, but only after a choice had been made... he was the invisible choice, but only until the moment that choice took form.”

At this point He stood up straight and stretched, never one to get too serious in a situation... He came round to sit next to me, putting His right arm around my shoulders and pulling me in bringing his face close to mine.

Whispering in my ear He said, “if you want the ending, make it.”

It won't let me have a blank signature ...
Last edit: 16 Aug 2017 22:27 by Edan.
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17 Aug 2017 12:27 #297951 by
Replied by on topic From time to time a poem
Language pronouncement training poem.. :blush:

Gerard Nolst Trenité - The Chaos (1922)

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17 Aug 2017 12:47 #297957 by
Replied by on topic From time to time a poem
The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats

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