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A Poem a Day
Former Member
Living the Zen life 🧘🏼♀️Posts: 1,989 Extreme Poster
in General Chat
Hey Guys!
So a wee friend of mine *cough* @Liam *cough* likes to send me one poem a day and it honestly makes my day! It has really gotten me into poetry - sometimes the words say things I would otherwise find difficult to express, or a sometimes the poem makes be feel a certain way I can't explain.
I've made this thread so we can share a poem a day and other's can enjoy them too! If you want to send a poem a day also then please do!
If you're sending a screenshot of a poem, it would be great if you could copy and paste the text into a spoiler underneath so that it's accessible to everyone! Thank you
So a wee friend of mine *cough* @Liam *cough* likes to send me one poem a day and it honestly makes my day! It has really gotten me into poetry - sometimes the words say things I would otherwise find difficult to express, or a sometimes the poem makes be feel a certain way I can't explain.
I've made this thread so we can share a poem a day and other's can enjoy them too! If you want to send a poem a day also then please do!
If you're sending a screenshot of a poem, it would be great if you could copy and paste the text into a spoiler underneath so that it's accessible to everyone! Thank you
4
Comments
Trudging down our separate roads,
Hoping, wishing, praying,
Someone will come to share our load,
There’s sunburn on our shoulders,
And there are blisters on our feet,
We brave the wildest blizzards,
And the scorching summer heat,
Sometimes we find somebody,
Who is going our way too,
And while they walk beside us,
The sky seems a bit more blue,
But all roads twist and turn,
And when you reach an intersection,
It’s likely life will take them,
In the opposite direction,
But don’t give up on hoping,
When your road is a dead end,
It’s likely that you’ll find,
It’s only really just a bend,
And though the other’s roads are different,
It doesn’t mean that yours is wrong,
So pick yourself back up again,
And just keep trudging on.
I'm going to share my favourite poem first. I'll throw it into a spoiler because it's quite long
23/11/20
The Scientist and the Bumblebee
The scientist said the bumblebee couldn’t fly,
She lacked the wingbeats per minute or the necessary size,
But the bumblebee in her ignorance proved him wrong,
She knew she could fly cause she’d flown all along
Imagine if she’d listened to the man she might have stopped,
Given up on the spot, tucked her wings in and dropped,
So don’t ever let someone tell you what you can’t do,
Just because its proven, doesn’t mean it’s true.
The bumblebee bumbled, loving her life, she hums as she flies,
The bumblebee fumbled, clumsily stumbled from flower to flower
The bumblebee tumbled, tore through the sky pulling corkscrews and dives,
The bumblebee mumbled, crumbled in front of the queen and her power,
The bumblebee grumbled something explicit, discovered she’d been labelled a gimmick,
The bumblebee rumbled, desperate to eat that nectar so sweet,
The bumblebee humbled her critics, silenced all things scientific,
The bumblebee jumbled her speech, she didn’t care cause in the air she was free…
Because she was a busy bee, loved to fly to flowers and visit trees,
Deliver seeds, efficiently, more so than in a breeze,
Intricate and intimate, meticulous, auxiliary,
And gathered more honey than any sick MCS,
Ever since she learned to fly, she earned her stripes,
Despite the words of hype from learned types,
Suppressed the urge to fight or turn and hide,
Instead she yearned for skies and birds up high,
Her confidence was soaring, She saw scientists as boring,
The sort of people she should be ignoring,
Because they made no sense, at least no scent as sweet as pollen,
Even centimetres from her they depended on their drawings,
And They’d rather follow their charts than follow their hearts,
If they saw a bee leave they would still believe their graphs,
They preferred facts and figures to beeswax and vigour
But she begged to differ as she flew past and laughed,
Meet the scientist, His aim in life was to try and dismiss,
Any hypothesis he deemed preposterous,
When asked why he never swallowed his pride he replied
“that’s obvious, it wouldn’t fit down my oesophagus,”
Not quite the optimist, more like the opposite,
Less likely to be living in a bubble than popping it,
He had hey — believe everything I say- fever
Pollinosis when close to the anomalous,
Taking measurements, making experiments, accumulating evidence,
His brain contained considerable cleverness compared to his intelligence,
So busy with bees in the room, he forgot the elephant,
His full proof was foolproof except for the truth,
If the bumblebee had read his report she’d have agreed,
she was too heavy therefore would never be airborne,
but ignorance is bliss and that begins with a Bee
This one’s for the bees in the hives living lives of aviation,
The ones ho survive and help survive through pollination,
The ones who thrive in the sticky situations
With the floccinaucinihilipilification,
Doing what they’re doing for the buzz, not for love or money,
Moving and manoeuvring above, if the weather’s sunny,
Proving to the humans their conclusions are confusing
And unusually refusing to budge,
This is for those who are being themselves, and who believe in themselves,
Who see the bee in themselves, and set it free in themselves,
Who know that even though it’s difficult, life is full of miracles,
And true happiness never came from being cynical,
The bumblebees, forever looking for something sweet,
Overcoming tumbleweeds by holding on the something sweet,
In summary, this is for those who stay summery,
For there will be bees to come, whatever comes to be.
It's another long one but super worth the read.
Impossible ( Harry Baker )
The truth is it’s too easy
to tell ourselves it’s too hard
When facing the end - that it’s too late
to even make a start
But if we take impossible to mean
that we don’t have a chance
We have lost sight of how unlikely
it was we would get this far.
The way the single fish outwits the shark
by sticking with its school
The way a crescent moon out spins its dark
to once again be full
Even winter - given long enough
begins to lose its cool
What was once exceptional
now barely registers at all
The bug who finds its all too much
and shuts off everything
To then recover and have summoned up
The strength to stretch its wings
The snake so full of itself
that it cannot help but shed its skin
Or how instead of death, the hedgehog
went to bed and slept till spring
To think the earth exists at this
specific distance from the sun
Down to the angle of the axis
on which everything is spun
The fact that trees happen to breathe
That which we need inside our lungs...
It would all seem impossible,
Had it not already been done.
We are so constantly surrounded that it’s easy to forget
The world is full of impossible - that hasn’t stopped us yet
Just as indeed the dos we did outdo the don’ts we didn’t,
So everything’s impossible, until it isn’t.
Flamingos and giraffes look like
they were drawn by a child
We can’t begin to comprehend
All of the ways this world is wild
None of them asked if they were possible
Before they came to be.
None of them have ceased to exist
By being told they’re make-believe
The thought of rivers changing course
before somebody gave a damn
Or that a tide might turn from shore
Before a line’s drawn in the sand
We cannot know how far our actions go,
The impact they might have
Sometimes the only thing that we can do
Is to do all we can
Just as the night is at its darkest
When it’s introduced to day
Just as the dry is at its harshest
In the breath before it rains
it’s easy enough to believe in something
When it’s all okay.
It is when times are at their hardest
That it’s hardest to have faith
And yet the wolf that survives
is the one we’re feeding the most
By making it through day to day
We see the seasons evolve
If there was never any doubt
There’d be no reason for hope
It could too late to do anything
It sure as hell is if we don’t
When it’s over and we’re no more
than old bones within the ground
Still the soil knows to grow its seeds
from what is broken down
What is lost is always lost
until the moment it is found
It only ever goes one way..
Unless we turn things round
I am tired of the doom and gloom
And self-fulfilling prophecies
I’m trying to find room to bloom
And self-fulfill the opposites
When it’s an act of revolution
To try to stay remotely positive
There’s nothing wishy-washy
About opting to be optimists
We are impossible to everyone who’s ever gone before
And everyone who’s yet to come will push impossible some more
Just as indeed the dos we did outdo the don’ts we didn’t,
So it will remain impossible, until it isn’t.
Who think that “space” means you’re alone,
Who find their silence too deafening
To spend much time on their own,
They ask how I can hear the whispers
If I stand back from the crowd,
But surely whispers are drowned out
When where you’re standing is so loud?
If all you see of those around you
Is the back of someone’s head,
Don’t you think the bigger picture
Would mean so much more instead?
Just like you can’t find constellations
By looking at a single star,
Sometimes the world does not make sense
Until you watch it from afar,
Space does not mean you’re empty
It just means you’ve room to grow,
It doesn’t mean you must be lonely,
For there’s more people you can know,
Because the space between two beats
Just shows you have a working heart,
And it’s the only way to tell
If you’re apart or a part.
This poem is sort of a kick in the trousers. If you walk in and say 'I'm going to lose', before you've even tried, you haven't got a chance. Sometimes the only way is to talk yourself into it - whatever 'it' may be.
Thinking (Walter D. Wintle)
If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don't
If you'd like to win, but you think you can't,
It's almost a cinch you won't.
If you think you'll lose, you're lost,
For out of the world we find
Success begins with a fellow's will-
It's all in the state of mind.
If you think you're outclassed, you are;
You've got to think high to rise;
You've got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize
Life's battles don't always go
To the stronger or faster man;
But soon or late the man who wins,
Is the one who thinks he can.
Added a pic of the page
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.
But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.
But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.
Remember that sometimes
It's ok to close your eyes
and forget the world,
to think for yourself,
Breathe deeply,
and do that one thing
you've been putting off
for months
and when you are ready
to view the world with
new-born eyes
you will find that
the stars still shine,
the waves still crash,
the sun still rises,
and
your heart still beats.
The moon and then the Pleiades
Go down.
The night is now half gone; youth goes; I am
In bed alone.
~ Sappho
I got lost on the highway of happiness
Took a wrong turn on the Road of Regret,
I found myself walking through memories
That I’ve been trying hard to forget…
They grow out of cracks in the sidewalk,
Found their way up the bricks of the walls,
With thorns grown so sharp they promised,
To pierce my heart should I fall…
These memories spread endlessly outwards,
Until they were too far away to be seen,
But as I bent down to study one closer,
I found something nestled between…
There tucked beneath all the brambles,
Were memories I’d long since forgotten,
Pieces of proof that my lifetime,
Wasn’t just made of things rotten…
These flowers had slowly been growing,
From the moment that I was born,
But they’d almost lost sight of the sunlight,
When I’d only remembered the thorns…
And as I stumbled back onto the highway,
I knew there was much more to learn,
But in a world that is fearful of failing,
I was glad that I made a wrong turn.
-e.h.
What is a metaphor?
Proximity
This one makes me super happy. Zen is unleashing her inner Erin Hanson and wrote me a wee somethin' somethin' whilst watching Toy Story 2
You've Got A Friend In Me
When you've got troubles,
Let me share them with you.
For you'll never see Buzz,
Without a Woody too.
When you feel lonely,
Look upon your shoe,
'ANDY' brought us together
But to stay we choose.
So when you're falling
And you don't know what to do,
Remember you're not alone,
And like Lenny, let me watch the view.
It took an adventure to find Bullseye,
But in this journey it is our crew,
That without Jessie,
Would not have grew.
Life throws challenges at us
But this is nothing new,
So stomp through like Rex
And problems I see being very few.
Woody and Buzz are forever,
And in case you never knew,
To infinity and beyond,
It will always be us two
Awesome poem Zen ❤️
The Healing Flowers of Love - Alexandra Vasiliu
Tuen heartbreak into kindness.
Search for healing words
And plant them
Into your wounds,
One day,
You will have
A garden of love.
Nobody (Michael Laskey)
If you can't bring yourself to build
a snowman or even to clench
a snowball or two to fling
at the pine tree trunk, at least
find some reason to take you out
of yourself: scrape a patch of grass clear
for the birds maybe; prod at your shrubs
so they shake off the weight, straighten up;
or just stump about leaving prints
of your boots, your breath steaming out
Promise. Don't let yourself in
for this moment again: the end
of the afternoon, drawing the curtains
on the glare of the garden, a whole
day of snow nobody's trodden.
Popped the description of the poem in a spoiler incase you're interested
Many of us know the feeling of having sabotaged ourselves through inaction, whether for an hour, a day, a week or even longer. Those of us who have struggled with depression recognise it particularly well : there is a breed of self spiting apathy which can take hold of us and prevent us from even wanting to be happy. Often the things that will make us feel better- getting dressed, getting out into nature, taking joy in the small pleasures of life - are exactly the things we deny ourselves when we are at our lowest points. It's almost as if we are punishing ourselves for being sad. However reluctantly, it is hugely important at these times that we seek out some simple, joyful activities - and there are very few pleasures so pure as leaving the first footprints in an expanse of untrodden snow. It's almost impossible to resist, when you get the chance. This is what makes the image at the end of Michael Laskey's poem 'Nobody' so affecting: there is such poignant regret, such self - recrimination, as the poet closes those curtains. He has somehow let himself down. He has failed to appreciate the world as he should have done; and as he accepts his mistakes, he swears he will never let it happen again. If you don't do it, if you don't get out there and make an effort to have fun and to appreciate life, then you'll end the day feeling even worse for your lack of willpower. Remember : every moment is an opportunity to make change. Give yourself permission to be happy, to be enthusiastic and undignified and carefree. If you pass up the chance, you'll never know what you've missed.
And run your bare feet through the sand,
Let the water be a soft bed,
When you cannot bear to stand,
Make friends with flying seagulls,
And hold the sun up on your palm,
Before you duck beneath the water,
Where the world is mute and calm,
Tell the fish all of your problems,
As they all come swimming past,
When your lungs are close to bursting,
Swim above the waves and gasp,
Let the water hold your sadness,
And wash it right out to the sea,
So like a message in a bottle,
All your worries are set free,
And the sea might make you feel alone,
But the world has troubles too,
For how else do you suppose,
That the ocean got so blue?
- e.h
“Don’t forget to be thankful
for another day
where you wake up
with the sun,”
they say.
But it is okay not to be okay.
Lay low and take it slow.
Having a bad day
doesn’t make you ungrateful.
While walking along the river
after a long day meditation on Vulture Peak,
I watch an elephant splashing its way
out of the water and up the bank.
Hello, my friend, a man waiting there said,
scratching the elephant behind its ear.
Did you have a good bath?
The elephant stretched out its leg,
the man climbed up,
and the two rode off like that -
together.
Seeing what had once been so wild
now a friend and companion to this
good man,
I took a seat under the nearest tree
and reached out a gentle hand
to my own mind.
Truly, I thought, this is why
I came to the woods.
Laughter is infectious- Walterrean Salley
Laughter is infectious:
It’s a joyful sound
That, once it starts ringing,
Passes all around.
Laughter is infectious:
Some folks have no clue,
As to what another’s laughter
Could undo to you.
Laughter is infectious:
You can get it on a whim,
But chances of it harming
Are very - very slim.
Walterrean Salley
Matter (Erin Hanson)
You may not believe in magic,
But don't you think it strange,
The amount of matter in our universe,
Has never slightly changed,
That all which makes your body,
Was once part of something more,
And every breath you ever breathe,
Has seen it all before.
There are countless scores of beauty,
In all the things that you despise,
It could once have been a shooting star,
That now make up your thighs,
And atoms of forgotten life,
Who've long since ceased to roam,
May now have the great honour,
To call your crooked smile their home,
You may not believe in magic,
But I thought that you should know
The makings of your heart were born,
Fourteen billion years ago,
So next time you feel lonely,
When this world makes you feel small,
Just remember that it's part of you,
And you're part of it all.
Just a wee pic of the poem in the book
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron
feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Don't forget all you need.
Simply sit in the silence around you.
Take in today.
Let go of tomorrow.
Worry about it when it comes.
Jennae Cecelia
If ever comes a day
When the moon hides from your eyes;
luminous memories of us together,
Will soar like a flock of fireflies.
If seawater drowns your pupils
When sadness invades your heart,
My hands be the handkerchief
That so gentle dries your eyes.
When your midnight thoughts asunder
Staring at wishes from afar,
Know I’m never out of reaching-
I will always be by your side.
-Clairel Estevez
If you ask me (Rebekah Steen)
If you ask me what my dreams are,
my mind draws a blank
I prefer to dream with my eyes wide open
It gives my eyes room to think.
If you ask me what I'm craving,
I'd say a hefty dose of soul food
you know salt, sun, sand, and fresh air
throw in a rainy day run too.
If you ask me where I'm going,
I'd say I haven't a single clue
I've never known, never will,
think the roads are crazy and prefer if I flew.
If you ask me what I do,
just be prepared to hear me laugh
a single noun or adjective
oh man, we're all worth so much more than that.
If you ask me what I regret,
It might make me cry
why take time to stir up those memories
you forgave or forgot and chose to let fly?
If you ask me what I love,
hopefully, you could see my heart smile
since only a few things occupy
that acreage that makes each breath worthwhile.
So maybe stop asking questions for a bit
and just sit and be with me
then together we can dance with the thought
of how lovely being in a moment can be.
02/12/20
Every day is a fresh beginning;
Listen, my soul, to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrow and older sinning,
And puzzles forecasted and possible pain,
Take heart with the day, and begin again.
By Susan Coolidge
03/12/20
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire call be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.
By J.R.R Tolkien