Sunday, October 31, 2010

This Is Not Heavy

- Angel Falls, Venezuela

The Roots of Violence:
Wealth without work,
Pleasure without conscience,
Knowledge without character,
Commerce without morality,
Science without humanity,
Worship without sacrifice,
Politics without principles.
- Mohandas K. Gandhi

"Dreams are the touchstones of our character." - Henry David Thoreau


This Is Not Heavy

I wish I knew how
to say this bright change in me
to see how it is,
how you are, just two
letters reduced from the five
you've used all this time
and how the light shines,
backlights you standing beneath
the burden lifted,
as you place it safe
in the warm lap of sunset,
in my easy heart.

- Christopher
August 15, 2009 8:04 PM

10 comments:

  1. Beautiful Christopher...the burden, your lap, I am comforted.

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  2. Thank you, lakeviewer, and how're things down at the coast?

    Annie, it's on the warm lap of sunset and in my easy heart. :)

    The burden might fall off my lap. I wiggles a bit.

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  3. beautiful expressions chris,

    'two letters reduced from the five...'
    that was a maverick's touch....

    ReplyDelete
  4. Manik, I appreciate your attention to detail.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I wish I could be in that place, too. Everything seems so heavy.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your bright new high

    You’ve found a way
    to carve knotwood
    into balsam wings,
    and there you glide
    all grins above the street

    even your ragged cuffs
    stay clean now, as
    your giggle swells
    on your bright new high

    your eyes graze me and
    I wonder what you see
    since they throw off
    shards of blue and green,
    no hint refracted
    from my bitter grime

    (I'll blog this later)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Rachel, yes, I wrote this poem a year ago. I agree. Things in general are much heavier now. I think I may have navigated a couple of hard turns and come out all right but the timing of my aging process seems to have sped up. That's unsettling.

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  8. I'll follow you there :D This is wonderful. Thank you.

    Pink Rain

    I hope you get it,
    get how difficult it is
    to turn wood into
    lighter than air craft.
    It may appear that I am
    all giggles and grins
    but the spells I wove
    took the stuffing out of me,
    have left me hollow,
    cracked and now leaking
    the hydraulics of my soul,
    an oily pink rain.

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  9. I really like this, and I might be able to conjure up a response, later. It has a particular appeal to me. xo

    ReplyDelete

The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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