The idea of Karma appeals to my sense of fair play also.
When some people seem to get a raw deal in life....perhaps it is just their Karma (from other lifetimes) working itself out. If can we help them, that is good kharma for us and we are part of their good kharma.
Well, it beats just standing about wringing our hands, because it's not fair.......of which I've done my share.
Karmic Wheel by Dan Ianone
That overlooked, we become
Tracks us down, like a hungry wolf
Eventually catching up, devours us
Leaving nothing, but itself
That forgotten, returns
Haunting us, night and day
When least suspected, it floods back
Taking with it, all we protect
That which we pretend to be
engraves its name upon us
for all to see what we have become, and
what we are no longer
And so turns the wheel
around and around
until at last
its work with us is done
~ by diannone on November 24, 2007.
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Love Poems
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- Penelope
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I found this lovely poem by the same author and thought you might appreciate it:-
Losing Myself Inside a Japanese Wood Poppy
Stepping inside a Japanese wood poppy
I took leave of myself
As some mad man might veer off the highway to work
Only to find himself fishing
Along the banks of an idyllic stream
Not often enough we surrender ourselves
To that something larger
Contained in even the smallest thing
Like a tiny blade of grass
Or the petal of a spring daffodil
Why quibble over a name, or anything
Standing between you and beauty
‘Tis better to be naked of all words
Even poetry
Than miss a flower’s healing kiss
![Wink ;-)](https://www.booktalk.org/images/smilies/icon_wink.gif)
Losing Myself Inside a Japanese Wood Poppy
Stepping inside a Japanese wood poppy
I took leave of myself
As some mad man might veer off the highway to work
Only to find himself fishing
Along the banks of an idyllic stream
Not often enough we surrender ourselves
To that something larger
Contained in even the smallest thing
Like a tiny blade of grass
Or the petal of a spring daffodil
Why quibble over a name, or anything
Standing between you and beauty
‘Tis better to be naked of all words
Even poetry
Than miss a flower’s healing kiss
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
- Saffron
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I've found another one! A poem that begins with "COME live with me, and be my love," I think we might be able to start a whole thread with these poems. I wonder how many there are floating around. If I wrote one it would go something like this:
COME live with me, and be my love,
And you can do the dishes while I read
I've enough of them and long for time
to linger long on silken lines from book to book.
I know I missed the rhythm scheme entirely -- it's hard to think with so many dishes in the sink calling out. Enough nonsense --
Edit in:
Come live with me, and be my love,
And you can do the dishes my dove.
I've enough of them and long to read
to linger long on silken lines is what I need.
not sure it is much better.....
THE BAIT.
by John Donne
COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
There will the river whisp'ring run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun ;
And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.
Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest ;
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.
For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait :
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas ! is wiser far than I.
COME live with me, and be my love,
And you can do the dishes while I read
I've enough of them and long for time
to linger long on silken lines from book to book.
I know I missed the rhythm scheme entirely -- it's hard to think with so many dishes in the sink calling out. Enough nonsense --
Edit in:
Come live with me, and be my love,
And you can do the dishes my dove.
I've enough of them and long to read
to linger long on silken lines is what I need.
not sure it is much better.....
THE BAIT.
by John Donne
COME live with me, and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
With silken lines and silver hooks.
There will the river whisp'ring run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun ;
And there th' enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.
When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Will amorously to thee swim,
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.
If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
And if myself have leave to see,
I need not their light, having thee.
Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset,
With strangling snare, or windowy net.
Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
The bedded fish in banks out-wrest ;
Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.
For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait :
That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
Alas ! is wiser far than I.
- Saffron
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While I am on a John Donne kick -- this from The Triple Fool made me smile!
I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry.
If I have piqued anyone's interest in a bit more Donne --
Poetry of John Donne
I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry.
If I have piqued anyone's interest in a bit more Donne --
Poetry of John Donne
- Penelope
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- One more post ought to do it.
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Saffron:
John Donne up yer bum
TSEliot - Toilets
But then we were very rude and naughty...then...whereas now I am the very soul of discretion...not....![Very Happy :D](https://www.booktalk.org/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif)
Yeah! Go on then, Saffron, although when I was at college we used to sing:-If I have piqued anyone's interest in a bit more Donne --
Poetry of John Donne
John Donne up yer bum
TSEliot - Toilets
But then we were very rude and naughty...then...whereas now I am the very soul of discretion...not....
![Very Happy :D](https://www.booktalk.org/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif)
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
- giselle
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penelope
Thanks for this poem ... reminds me of standing on the side of a mountain, in a clear meadow where you can see for miles in all directions over a beautiful landscape and then look down and appreciate the tiny mountain flowers that are so bright and cheery and prosper so well in a tough climate .. really renews my sense of the miracle of life, it doesn't matter what the flowers are called but they are truely a 'healing kiss'.Losing Myself Inside a Japanese Wood Poppy
Not often enough we surrender ourselves
To that something larger
Contained in even the smallest thing
Like a tiny blade of grass
Or the petal of a spring daffodil
Why quibble over a name, or anything
Standing between you and beauty
‘Tis better to be naked of all words
Even poetry
Than miss a flower’s healing kiss
- Penelope
-
- One more post ought to do it.
- Posts: 3267
- Joined: Tue Oct 02, 2007 11:49 am
- 16
- Location: Cheshire, England
- Has thanked: 323 times
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giselle:
Saffron: I'm just looking at my post for yesterday! Do you remember last week when I deleated my post?
Ahem!!! We always have a glass or two of wine with our Sunday Dinner!!
![:oops: :oops:](https://www.booktalk.org/images/smilies/oops.gif)
My snowdrops are just out in my garden. They are the most fragile-looking of flowers and mine are particularly feeble, but they are so treasured!tiny mountain flowers that are so bright and cheery and prosper so well in a tough climate .. really renews my sense of the miracle of life,
Saffron: I'm just looking at my post for yesterday! Do you remember last week when I deleated my post?
Ahem!!! We always have a glass or two of wine with our Sunday Dinner!!
![:oops: :oops:](https://www.booktalk.org/images/smilies/oops.gif)
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
- Saffron
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- I can has reading?
- Posts: 2954
- Joined: Tue Apr 01, 2008 8:37 pm
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I am envious of your fragile snowdrops! We have the real stuff -- it's our first real snow of the year!Penelope wrote:giselle:
My snowdrops are just out in my garden. They are the most fragile-looking of flowers and mine are particularly feeble, but they are so treasured!
The Sunday glass (or two) is an excellent practice! Carry on!Saffron: I'm just looking at my post for yesterday! Do you remember last week when I deleated my post?
Ahem!!! We always have a glass or two of wine with our Sunday Dinner!!
- Penelope
-
- One more post ought to do it.
- Posts: 3267
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OK - I found the Wendy Cope poem I mentioned.
Defining the Problem
I can't forgive you. Even if I could,
You wouldn't pardon me for seeing through you.
And yet I cannot cure myself of love
For what I though you were before I knew you.
I'll post more later, but must go and bring grandson from school now.
xx
Defining the Problem
I can't forgive you. Even if I could,
You wouldn't pardon me for seeing through you.
And yet I cannot cure myself of love
For what I though you were before I knew you.
I'll post more later, but must go and bring grandson from school now.
xx
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini
He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....
Rafael Sabatini