Think about it…If we have enough power to destroy the world / Why don’t we have enough power to save the world / But yet We’re Only Human
A poem about the species Labeled / Homo Sapiens / the Human Race / My view point and my thoughts about these ravage animals…lol / Let me know what you think even if to you it sucks….I just want the world input / And this piece like the rest is copywritten -This piece was inspired by peering at the perverted reality of which we live in….. (let me have your honest thoughts on this please take care and much love colorblind)
Something in Life has been lost… You can see it in the eyes of the children / smell it in the flesh of the dead / taste it in the bloo…
hmmm… it almost sounds like it has religious undertones and I’m most definitely NOT religious… Not sure where all this soft shit is coming from lately, but there it is.
What if a feeling of peace, now overrides, the desire to write / and the words only came from a need to inspire as I struggled to fight?
hmmm… I feel like I’m standing at an intersection or a fork in the river and for the first time in my life I have to be patient because what’s about to unfold from here on in is out of my hands.
Because we traded our eyes with the root of all evil / So now we ….. / see / hear / speak / ... / and / do / EVIL THINGS…...
Its been awhile so i had to write something / let me know what you think / and let me have your perspective on this / much love to everyone / and going have this one with a beat
We need to open up our eyes / And stop seeing static / And get the picture / That we are the picture
If you ever wanted to know why my alias was – Colorblind / This poem here will explain all. “Racism is man’s greatest threat to man – The maximum of hatred for a minimum of reason – Abraham J. Hesahel” Hopefully you will enjoy / I’ve been wanted to convey and give an explantation to the name Colorblind / It truly is who I am …...I couldn’t have picked a better name…...
i’m like my own radio station / tuned into / the universe’s frequency / an orchestra of letters / in the language of expression / of life / of …
Written 26 May 2009.
A better tomorrow is in each of our hands / within our grasps, if we choose to understand Everything changes and will come to an end / i…
Today’s writing inspired by David Richo’s “The Five Things we cannot change and the Happiness we find by embracing them”...a great book of understanding and the inevitabilities of life…
Some poets write with a rapier blade, / meaning to cut a thing down / to its bare-boned ism. Others write of fanciful affairs with a voi…
Just a poem that could have gone on infinitly, writing about some of the different styles, forms, kinds, moments of writing and writers. and, most importantly, the absoluteness of writing!
I do believe that I have become / hooked / on the thrill / of erotic poetry. The way the words / spin / beneath / my reactive skin; / igniti…
This is a seriously fun poem about reading hot poetry from hot writers with hot, fire-steaming-pens! I love reading them (as well as writing them!) and the last line here is an invitation for others to write some hot poetry. come on, then, get to work…you know you want to!
Upon the parchment of ones soul / there swirl the letters of our past, / they couple with the cosmos vast – / becoming what our future holds…
this is an 8 syllable Italian Sonnet about the message each soul brings with them to this life, and how each new day we learn, through every single event, moment and heppening, the things we NEED to learn in this life, to move forward into the next.
The sixties awakened humanity’s heart / transforming traditional culture’s depart Historical perspectives tire of money as time / With m…
This poem was inspired after reading a book today by Owen Waters called “The Shift”. An amazing confirmation of our stepping forward into New Reality consciousness, to experience new vistas of awareness and new levels of creativity. Following our hearts to express our inner joys through making our own meaningful contribution to the betterment of the world. I am grateful and believe that it is truly a great time to be alive! The Spiritual Shift
empty faces, blank trains / old eyes staring out / from cold compartments / child-like, clinging / to a once-bright past
life – our lives, how we live. what we fear. jordan busson. 29 July 2009.
slipping into dream / we go to the dark gods
Written 29 July 2009.
without the field’s fragrance / of white lilies in a clenchèd fist / or the mournful notes of song and prayer
This is my translation of a poem by an Afrikaans poet, Marlise Joubert. Afrikaans is my second language. The Lucebert referred to is a Dutch poet, who said “All things of value are defenceless”. Translated in March 2009. Below is the original: sonder die veld se geur / van wit lelies in ‘n vuis / of die trae note van gesang en gebed / sonder ‘n graaf of ‘n word van eerbetoon / sterf hy op die vaal handdoek / op ‘n skoongeskropte tafel / eerloos / en ek onthou Lucebert: / alles van waarde is weerloos sonder ‘n sug en sonder protes / sterf hy stil en donker / terwyl die bloed oor die lip / bly stoot / terwyl die pyn die gapende wond verlaat / en elke pupil al groter rek / om verlossing in te laat / terwyl my kind se hand / die troetelkop bly troos bly troos / en ek onthou Lucebert: / alles van waarde is weerloos sonder dat hy weet dat ons hom groet / word sy lyfie riemslap onder die naald / lê die swart pels in ‘n boog gestol / half verleë die wit sokkies / van sy pote oor mekaar gevou / die bors se wit ster / gevlek en rou / en ek onthou van Lucebert so moes ek hom verlaat / sonder ‘n lied of die veld se geur / en ek onthou terwyl ek huil / teësinnig teen die misreën op die ruit / my vingers om die stuur geklem en koud / dat ook hy, ja tog, / soos ‘n mens van waarde was / ‘n keelronde warmte kon gee / met kromgeskuur teen jou kuit / weerloos in sy dierlikheid / en onvoorwaardelik elke dag / veertien jaar lank / getrou op ons tuiskoms kon wag
my words fall onto paper / and dance briefly / celebrating the birth / of a poem
the birth of a poem… / 16 august 2009.
silent ritual of day’s opening / dawn fresh on our skins / we slip out of sleep’s embrace
every day a friend and i go for a run, / early in the morning. / we steal the sky. / jordan busson. 2 september 2009.
Another dear soul has chosen the light of eternity’s love / As she walks beyond pain, to the peaceful flight of a dove May her soul fir…
A day after our granddaughter departed, we received word that a dear and close friend had collapsed, hospice was called in and she will soon be departing this earth plane, transitioning from life to life. / This writing will be part of her sacred transition, as the pipes of the Tribe of All Nations sing her soul/spirit to Great Mystery and the Great Star Nation she will return… / May her spirit fly to the heights of peace! ENIGMA – Beyond the Invisible
Captivate my lips, / hold them prisoner; / inhabit my heart / and we’ll dance as one - / consume all of me! The ink tip drops / and I am ra…
Another deminished hexaverse form poem. What else to say but a poet’s heart, mind and soul is ink.
Read me infinite. / Destination anywhere, / anytime or place; / marked by mere inclination – / a passage procured by fate. Lead toward it’...
A double tanka on the lure of books to the lover of words.
Languidly draped mind / wrapped gently around warm sand, / palm trees whisper, come, / as I dip my toes into / the vast ocean of my dreams… / ...
just a little feel good Tanka. :) / God bless the dreamers…
Take the heart that bleeds for them / And squeeze it dry to the last drop / To show the love you have for them is nonstop
A piece that I wrote because I haven’t been able to see, feel, smell, taste or sense my girl lately…..I mean my woman …for she is my woman and not my girl…lol…but I just been missing that physical connection with her….. and the ending was taken from the lovely written piece by Jacqleen NO / Very nice read ….if I liked it you should like it….smilez / but I hope you enjoy ….sincerely daz
what is in a name / if not the essence of all – / being keepers of our art? the whispers of green, / how it embraces the leaf, ...
A choka (Japanese poetry form, like a haiku which can be 5/7/7 or 5/7/5 written as a sequence)I wrote these as 5/7/7. / This is about one’s name, and how it holds the essence of the soul of the being itself.
Roots / blinding their twists / to vapors / binding their home / to roots / winding themselves / to death. It wasn’t always this way… / d…
This poem came about after reading from Heidegger’s, Poetry, Language, Thought. / There is a section titled: Poetically Man Dwells, which is taken from a poem by: Holderlin with the same title. / Basically, Heidegger is saying that man is born a poetic creature – with a full house; seeing the world poetically, living his own life, a natural poet – words to page or not. / But upon growing, living, ”...our dwelling is harassed by work (for another), made insecure by the hunt for gain and success, bewitched by the entertainment and recreation industry.” etc… there is much more I could quote, but, basically he is saying that in today’s world, there is not much room left in one’s house for living as we were intended… / ”...poetry does not fly above and surmount the earth in order to escape it, and hover over it…poetry is what first brings man onto the earth, making him belong to it, and thus brings him into the dwelling.” / Thank goodness for RedBubble, where so many still find time to fill up their houses.
I watched, fascinated, as the massive snake / made its way from the roof / down the wall in front of me. / I held a long stick in my hand, t…
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