''The poet is the priest of the invisible.''

— Wallace Stevens

This is a group for posting Poetry, your own or others. I have not written very much poetry as it does not come to me. I wait until it does. I think it is among the highest forms of the written art, words brought back from beyond the veil upon the fortunate inspiration of the Muse, or the Divine. Sruti is the sanskrit word meaning that which is heard, ''the cosmic sound of truth''. Poets channel the work, they hear it inside, often complete, before it ever touches paper. Alexander Solzhenitsyn wrote a 50 page long poem while serving hard labour in the gulag, scratching it onto a bar of soap and memorising it before rinsing it off, bit by bit every day. Even if the poet is not a particularly philosophical person, yet still a good poem contains within it by its very nature some acute wisdom or observation. The writing of poetry often is an act of revolution, warning us not to forget what has passed. Though we may be manipulated by the modern world, we always know the truth in certain words. And we remember that truth, no matter how long ago we heard it, because Poems are a mnemonic tool. Poetry makes us feel less alone.

''Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.''

- Plato

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Le Faux Pas

Uttered incredibly on purpose___________ Covered embarrassingly by gales of laughter Some people mean them, some people don't They can send you quite over the edge You'll keep laughing until your face turns red Never able to simmer downYou relish…

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The King of Pigeons

The King of Pigeons is sleeping He lays with his head upon a pillow Snoring at the dangers lurking near The Tiger is a Brother, he need not fear To him, covetousness is thrown away at pigeons He throws to them his rice... He snores & dreams of…

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We created you from dust She created you from clay We caused you to be a creation She released you from an open womb With a beaming, joyful face We created you, our hands made you The life of your flesh is blood Of course your dust was taken from…

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First They Said ~ Alice Walker

First, they said we were savages. But we knew how well we had treated them and knew we were not savages.   They they said we were immoral. But we knew minimal clothing Did not equal immoral.   Next, they said our race was inferior. But we knew our…

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Gethsemane ~ Mary Oliver

Gethsemane, by Mary Oliver The grass never sleeps. Or the roses. Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning. Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept. The cricket has such splendid fringe on its feet, and it sings, have…

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The Layers

THE LAYERS I have walked through many lives, some of them my own, and I am not who I was, though some principle of being abides, from which I struggle not to stray. When I look behind, as I am compelled to look before I can gather strength to…

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  • Woo-Hoo! I juss received the Rank of Filidh Bard for my work and am very happy!

    • Well done, Blacmist. That is a wonderful achievement, happy for you. :)

  • Behind the Thunder
    I keep looking for one more teacher,
    only to find that fish learn from water
    and birds learn from sky.

    If you want to learn about the sea,
    it helps to be at sea.
    If you want to learn about compassion,
    it helps to be in love.
    If you want to learn about healing,
    it helps to know of suffering.

    The strong live in the storm
    without worshipping the storm.
    - Mark Nepo 

  • "This is not
    the age of information.

    This is not
    the age of information.

    Forget the news,
    and the radio,
    and the blurred screen.

    This is the time of loaves
    and fishes.

    People are hungry,
    and one good word is bread
    for a thousand."

    ~ David Whyte 

  • Thanks, I love your wisdom!

  • testing comments on group walls...

  • " Write it on your heart
    that every day is the best day in the year.
    He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day
    who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

    Finish every day and be done with it.
    You have done what you could.
    Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.
    Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;
    begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit
    to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

    This new day is too dear,
    with its hopes and invitations,
    to waste a moment on the yesterdays."
    Ralph Waldo Emerson



    Bellerophon's Song To Pegasus

    With the help of a friend who carries my heart

    This soul does depend  on your wings in great part

    It is then I will soar like an eagle on high

    And make my home the widening sky

    I will fly the span of a great quiet wood

    And swim the good air in it's blue solitude

    And this will be told evermore till I am able

    Like the story at bedtime that turns into fable

    Come join me now and drink from this spring

    Let us know  this friendship a marvelous thing

    For however long I will help joy to ring

    And so to harmonize those who are willing to sing

    Now this will be done with a song I impart

    To you dear friend before we depart

    For 'this journey's end will bring us right to the start

    May we ever and never be far apart...

    Now, come away, come away, carry me friend!

    It's your company I keep nearest me, here at the end'



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