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dawnrays
Registered User
(7/7/03 10:24 am)
Reply 		Broken Dreams
I thought it might be nice to start a little shared poetry thread. Please anybody add their own.

A few years ago I found that writing poetry was a very good therapy for pent up feelings of frustation and loneliness. This is a poem I wrote several years ago and is dedicated to all of the "wounded yogi's" in and former srf, still trying meditate, understand and sing thier songs. Dreams die hard and sometimes are shattered to make way for new beginnings...

Broken Dreams

Nothing in the world it seems
Shatters like a broken dream
It is the ache behind the mean
Of shadows silent and unseen

And in this fortress dream of sorrow
Exist no dawn and no tomorrow
Just hours that cut you as they pass
Like little shards of broken glass

And yet another and another
Sometimes the night is meant to suffer
But look up now and see how far
They light your way like little stars

Oh if I had a star to shine
For every broken dream of mine
The whole night sky would turn to day
And all my troubles melt away

To all of us and our broken dreams. May we be stars for each other in the night, helping each other to realize the dawn...

dawnrays


Edited by: dawnrays at: 7/7/03 10:31 am
soulcircle
Registered User
(7/8/03 11:58 am)
Reply 		Welcome All Ye Citizens..... << is that Bob Dylan?
Durgprasad has joined us
Who all is on their way

Non-member employees
playing music that draws my emotions

to glees
to love of others and even all my me's

Join and sway
to the drums we each play

our spirit heatbeat
our spirit "beat and not so neat"

yet Durgaprasad has joined us
and others are coming to this websong of blissful foolishness

and fun

soulcircle
Registered User
(7/27/03 1:02 am)
Reply 		Horse Buggies in Twenty-First Century
Hi All,

Here's a few words strung together if you have a few minutes

~~~~~~~~~~A Life of Visits with Horse Buggy Mennonite/Amish Friends

interesting with this Thurs' past leavin
return Saturday even'
to visit NINE Old Order families on their farms
more than 1/2 of Grandma Barbara's 60 grandkids, smiles, legs and arms
talking with their parents
they call us English, and we are abhorent and? abherrents??
yet at home after home
they ask us to come again when we [on vacation] roam
even asking us to, "Come again soon!"

though we go to movies, dress in many colors, and have our software
they are loving and make us almost family, about us they do care

saying in reply to our goodbye as we leave before [mid-day] nooner
becomes later, they saying, come back and come back sooner
~~~~~~
hard to ever describe the wonder of their mid-day dinner
it aways is a delicious, garden fresh absolute home made winner

more than words ever contain, also makes hearts wonder
whether innocent bursts of smiles, surprise, even mild hilarity
daily moments woven with companionable hours, we grow fonder
their eighteen hours work days, muck, sweat and weather and illness's severity

decades of hardship, and lifes of fields beauteous with wheat shucked midst clover bursting
the poetic twists/phrases in frank and genuine conversation like songbirds the Amish sister and brother sing accapello, the young woman sleeps exhausted and dreamless, the child
reaches for the cup of water thursting
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
juxaposed are the worn, hole-marred clothes,
illness, broken-aged equipment, even a daughter shunned,
against the twinkling eyes, the meals begun and ended, big familes on benches, framing long tables in rows
meals made from their own produce begun and ended
in silent meditation...attuned

worlds within worlds, Old Order Amish
their pies we taste
while we who don't know three generations in one home, and famish
let us wish each year less love we waste

Mennonites, isn't true their repast
on bread made with flour [on same farm] ground
perhaps soaked in what came of mornings milking.
twice daily 'neath the floor above's haymound
the cows' udders yielding.

a day when two calves are fresh born
once every seven days, rest not work greets them with the morn
five dry years certainly leaves the community a bit forlorn
til their fields yield tons of bounty when rain falls in abundance, like oaks in the fall yielding the acorn

did you hear the spontaneous laughter

maybe you understood the ache from
thrashing, plowing, cutting shoveling stalls after
winter months, yet reflect
erosion the contour plowing deflects
the crops rotated, the decades of soil-building
without heavy tractoring and with an unsung stewardship of life

and throughout whatever toil, trouble and tears
seeing the forty-year about his barns and fields
barefoot throughout the long summers days, gone fears
of small matters and concern of yields

for the earth feels the print of toes
and some of us must gaze at what is right before our noses
an elegant simplicity
reminders of baseless pride of "the true simpleton," the city

by soulcircle

soulcircle
Registered User
(7/29/03 8:32 am)
Reply 		A Group Hug!!!.......All Guest All Walri
When friends/people
Express Kindness
Express Caring

Walking in Each others
mocassins
The world has
more co-operative families

When Feelings
of civility
Weave with
Healing Thoughts

Many random
act of kindness

Many senseles
acts of beauty

Inspire one and all
To better community/ies

dawnrays
Registered User
(7/30/03 10:12 am)
Reply 		Re: Broken Dreams
Lobo,

I deeply regret the loss of your poem. If I might disagree, I think that beautiful poetry and thoughts are always appropriate. I have always found reading others and writing mine to be very healing....

And Soul Circle, thankyou for all of your beautiful musings. You are a pure and natural soul with boundless love and energy for all and an inspiration to me...

I wrote these a couple of years ago..

Weeping Willow

A loving heart can sometimes be
Just like a weeping willow tree
With roots that grow around and 'round
And branches dragging to the ground

Searching deep for precious water
That quenches thirst that's like no other
With leaves so soft and shade so cool
That others stop to rest there too

But better take life and it's chances
With loving arms and out stretched branches
Than to cry into your pillow
Like the sad old weeping willow


Black Pearl

This pearl is precious unto me
Though it be black as it can be
It is as perfect, smooth and round
As any white one to be found

There was a time I wished to be
As clear and full of purity
As the water from the well
Or a single, snowy pearl

But I took all my wishing back
The day I noticed that the black
Was not from dirt nor dust of coal
But from the depths of my own soul

There is a place where angels keep
A vigil quieter than sleep
Because not even dreams may go
Into the twilight of my soul

dawnrays

Edited by: dawnrays at: 7/31/03 6:59 am
soulcircle
Registered User
(8/7/03 7:42 am)
Reply 		that we love you
this poem was written in Non-SRF Teachings and Ideals in Personal Problems and that Damned Ego


~~~~~~~~~~ Eric ~~~~~~~~~~~~

that we love you
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yes Guests, Yes All,

Whether it's the next smile that greets us
The next time we reflect on a friend/strangers kindness
The next time we take a walk under the sun

[remember how the sun alone seemed to revive St. Francis from a deathly lingering illess]

Whether we read Ringbearer, X Insider, and Lisa's posts a couple more times
Whether we give our Own self credit, for demanding/asking for help
Whether Eric, we ever realize how much You, Eric, shared?

~~~~~~~~~

How much you shared Eric,
And in sharing, you were caring, Eric

Caring about this wonder called life
wanting to drink a fresh draught
Caring to see "humanity" in the form of the above three walri
--Ringbarer, X insider Lisa--as they felt and said
... reach out and say take my hand

~~~~~~~~

Whether you know Eric, and you do
and you do
Whether you know Eric, that we love you
and you do

~~~~~~~~

We feel your love for yourself, And, us to be true
Whether you feel the dance of friendship within these pages
Eric, we are the ones thanking you
Especially when you are lost and blue
We thank you

~~~~~~~~

Eric, we thank you for not only following your heart
We thank you for leading your heart

*away from organizations
*for hoping
*concentrating on interiorizing
relaxing (Hong Sau)
* the within-ness "now" of each toke of self love (breath)
*mantras

~~~~~~~~

ripples of gratitude lapping at your shores, your beauty Eric
we touch your feet

~~~~~~~~

Eric, you chose OPERATION COMMUNICATE
in a world of wars and
"what we have here is a failure to communicate!"

you communicate (the essence of what srf doesn't do)
you communicate on walrus board, a lifeboat
'cause you Eric communicate, asking for a moment to be heard

we touch the feet of your communion
Paramhansa lives today ONLY because he lives
this moment in you
We touch the feet of your communion

Paramhansa lived
ONLY
ONLY
as that pond surface mirror of the inner face of your caring

that we love you

Eric's circle

Siddharthas Kid
Registered User
(8/31/03 9:04 pm)
Reply 		Re: Broken Dreams
after slogging through this entire mess, disbelief, shock, pain, sorrow, anger, more sorrow, total mass confusion, FINALLY! inner resolution, I think this song by Ozzy pretty much sums it all up for me.............!

Back On Earth

I have fallen from grace and my ashes are scattered
No longer of passion and flesh
My flame is alive, though my wings have been shattered
They lay my body to rest

My spirit is breathing, my senses are pure
Like reincarnation, my soul will endure

Back on earth
Back on earth
Back on earth
The spirit, it never lets go

Like fountains of sorrow, the faces are crying
I'm witnessing all of their pain
Death is so final, for only the living
The spirit will always remain

Bury me deep, just to cover my sins
My soul is redeemed, as the journey begins

Back on earth (you feel me)
Back on earth (reveal me)
Back on earth, the spirit it never lets go

Another dimension, a river of life
I'm twisting, I'm turning, my soul is in flight

Back on earth (you feel me)
Back on earth (reveal me)
Back on earth (still breathing)
Back on earth (reliving)

from The Ozzman Cometh

ugizralrite
Registered User
(10/28/03 3:46 pm)
Reply 		Lyrics are great, but wait till you hear it!
"I'm Still Looking for a Home"
sung by JoyAskew on album: Tender City,
The Orchard lable.

"There's a sound of voices singing as I lay awake.
And every day seems like I'm in a different place.
I seek the comfort of surrender, and a way to understand.
In my own heart lies the splendor that's reaching out its hand.
You were special to me, and I came with love.
Treading lightly, oh yeah, I wanted to touch.
And did you think that you could stop the flow of this love?
No, I can't dream, I can't sleep for want of holding you.
Oh fantasy take hold of me and float me to the blue.
Below us in the streets someone is calling out tonight.
And I am cold though the fire glows as the shutters are all tight.
Because I love a man who doesn't feel enough to cry.
Oh when he drinks enough to feel, he's drowning.
And did you think that you could spell the truth with a lie?
I'm still looking for a home."

Sound familiar? Leave your email address in my inbox and I will send you the MP3 of this beautiful song.

soulcircle
Registered User
(11/5/03 1:28 pm)
Reply 		rocking and rollin
from Nov 5th 1PM in the are the teachings bad thread, in srf teachings and ideals, where I wrote:

WOW

Holy @#%$

Now you guys are rocking and rolling

I just spent some time hiking in the redwoods
In community......
you, the trees, the hunters and the deer, we are all together....I am with each of you

Like the moss not only on the rocks and moist soil
Like the moss also hanging from tree branches in the northwest magical mushroom forest

Like the sunlight streaming filtered to the forest flower
Through centuries/ millenium-old trees

Like the mean and divisive comments sometimes in here
Like the storm, the cold, the dark windy rainy forest nites

Like "living cathedrals" [PY's phrase describing redwoods]
Like the springs, rivers and ocean the woods border on

Your forest is wild, subtle, largely gone and destroyed
Our forest is a lie at times

An unescapable wonder of sunsets and sunrises
And in this walrus thread is life, the murmur of the breeze

The soaring climax of the osprey and falcon
The ancient harmony of fish migrations

The death, the sad death of a planet, or certainly the cancers
The dance of the chipmunk

And my gratitude to all of you

ugizralrite
Registered User
(11/7/03 9:22 am)
Reply 		Not the main stream: The guru cycle.
Isn't it like a friend coming up to you in the role of matchmaker, and saying, "There's someone I want you to meet." And all the time this matchmaker is engaging you with descriptions of the intended, so much so that you are completely entranced. And then you arrive at the restaurant and there is just the three of you chatting away and slowly the matchmaker withdraws and you are becoming lost in the eyes of the beloved. Eyes that are like a a boundless blue lake fed by eternal springs and full of the most wonderful hues and reflections, until there is no more you, there is only the One. And in a while the curtain lifts and you find yourself back on the street running into an acquaintance and you say, "There is someone I think you would like to meet."

ugizralrite
Registered User
(11/8/03 10:16 am)
Reply 		Inner Radiance
SRF Walrus is grappling with the harm that people have experienced in their employment or service to SRF, and devotees may have experienced through the teachings. I don't know how or if it is possible to "Put Humpty Dumpty back together again.", but I do think that the best way to deal with it is to acknowledge that God is the author of everything and that it is not problematic for God. Maybe these difficulties may best be used as teaching points that ferret out false gods such as attachment to standards that are colored by personal perspective. This morning I was in a maddening situation, one that has always been loathsome dealing with a family member who is unlikely ever to change. Then I looked out the window at the wind on the water and the clear sky and started thinking about molecules and grains of sand and stars and billions of thoughts and billions of people. And the thought that all this is the inner radiance of God shimmering and singing, and somehow this old problem of mine fell into perspective. So I hope that all these disturbing issues on SRF Walrus may in time be seen as part of the grand drama. Sure, change what you can, and enjoy posting and discussing, but the universal antidote of God-awareness is really the benchmark in order that we be active participants in "the funeral of all sorrows".

ugizralrite
Registered User
(11/11/03 9:04 pm)
Reply 		More prose inspired by the Walrus-sanga
Beloved Brahman, you have tricked me into seeking you, but how can I be angry about that. Because now you are showing me that I should accept my ordinary feelings and reactions to life as natural and inevitable. If I am grouchy, there is probably a reason, and as soon as I discover the reason my mood will be altered, and I can turn my attention to life's little satisfactions. It is a simple thing to acknowledge Your majesty just by observing the wonderful and sometimes overwhelming world of human experience and natural phenomena. For many years I have felt that mortal existence was a curse, but now I see that it is well for a man to go through life's experiences with the attitude of acceptance of his roles and also be mindful of his immortal soul and its direct link to You. I have boxed myself in while wrestling with my mortal discomfiture, but now I see it is proper to relish all human feelings as creations of the Divine Hand, and it is unnatural in a way to feel inappropriately counter to circumstances. The soul is unperturbed, and so my tears and fears are defused, though those feelings still naturally arise. I will no longer run from them, but turn and face them and let them pass through me with awe.

rachelcorrie
Registered User
(3/29/04 7:47 am)
Reply 		back to poetry
hey this is for poetry

hey--- please, ugizralrite there are 999 other threads for prose---thank you
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

didgeridootoo has posted elsewhere:

May I be filled with loving-kindness.
May I be well.
May I be peaceful and at ease.
May I be happy.

soulcircle
(4/20/04 2:06 pm)
Reply 		didgeridootoo posts another beautiful poem
Angel Lyrics by Sarah McLachlan

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here

this was posted in catch all, and didgeridootoo found it reminds us of experiences in sfr land

I agree

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