This was one of dem days! ;-)
I'm usually a very optimistic person but sometimes I get into a melancholy mood and in this pensive state I may write this kind of thing. It is not so much a poem as a collection of my thoughts and perhaps a glimpse into the darker side of my soul.
Unfinished.
Ideas left dangling, and incomplete
like poems that cannot find their end.
I try to capture an essence
that is hard to grasp
That wafts away frustratingly
like a vague scent upon the breeze
I write as though chasing down sunshine
as it melts like syrup on the horizon
Compelled to find the truth -
when it can only be found
by sifting through lies
It's like looking for a rainbow
when all you see is the storm
The ominous rumble of thunder
and lighting
ripping through the skies.
Are but a dark disguise. The colour only discovered
when the sun breaks through
As it will always do.
I think meaning may be a distant cousin of love. You cannot truly find it until it finds you first. And I've had my trials looking for both.
Reviewed by Thomas Lanechanger (Reader)
Reviewed on December 2, 2004
Chanti, foolish people do not fall for a dream, just sometimes they need to embrace something more tangible, my friend. Voices are only heard when one speaks up, and this creative poetic piece speaks with tremendous clarity. I do enjoy visiting your Den, and love to read these deeply emotional soul-stirring writes that you seem to pen so gracefully and with such ease. Thank you for sharing your talent. Take good care and be well.
... totally agree with Jude at the bottom of the page - and look how many are racing to record their response "on top" of him!! We hear you - LOUD AND CLEAR! Far from this being a ramble, it is a finely elucidated and very necessary process that hits us from time to time, a process of evolution and a state of transition - and you make sense of it all well. Some stunning lines here, Chanti: "Great artists have made an impact / but I have such a little voice / a vibration inside a box tied up with string / unlikely to be opened by many / - so few care about what is within. This is a fantastic example of poetic irony, I think; where you are really sincere about what you say, but the opposite is clearly true! The fact that life truly DOES have a meaning is borne out by the constant desire we have to discover it - and that so many are intent on doing the same thing. We share the same journey and the same destination. Lyric and poetic, this is a beautiful and soul-bearing write which I have greatly enjoyed. Your biog page is sublime and I truly want to thank you for your most wonderful comments on my last two posts. I am in awe of the things that you said and am sincerely humbled by them - thank you so very, very much. They come at a time when my course tutor is causing me to look hard at the subject of my own identity! I am more than extremely grateful - bless you, Chanti! TY Kate xx
Sometimes we just need a guiding light in our lives to dispel the gloom Chanti...
And very often the remedy appears...when we stop trying so hard to constitute it..
Peter
GAD. if my ramblings were this beautifully poetic, i'd have it made! this is one of your best--poignant, powerful--an amazing write. well done! well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge (Reader)
Reviewed on December 1, 2004
Some can only wish they could ramble as poetically as you Chanti.
It is not hard at all to make sense of your "ramblings" as I can completely relate to them. I tend to write from the darker side most of the time. It's not so much that I like it; it's what comes up. I find these verses grasp me by the soul, Chanti. Thank you. Love and peace to you. Regis
I can relate to this, I just wrote a similiar piece.
There's always something in the back of my mind that
seems undone or unsaid. What it is I don't know.
Excellent Chanti!
Reviewed by Anna Marie Fritz (Reader)
Reviewed on December 1, 2004
The darker side of Bi-Polar, perhaps?
I see though, your brilliant poetic light shining through in these
verses, depressive mood notwithstanding.
A question, though? What is it that you REALLY want? Is it something already within your reach, but not seen as "important enough?"
This is a beautiful piece of writing, Chanti. I'm glad I sneaked in here (between edits) to check your page.
People are often too trapped by their own egos
to seek the meaning behind another's words
The human race, sometimes self-seeking,
selfish or filled with envy and spite
- still, I write
Chanti if this is an example of your ramblings, you have an amazing gift. (Which of course we already knew at AD). I learned a long time ago that if we can change just a tiny corner of our world, then our existance has been justified. If our voices affect only one person's life and help them live it more fully then we have accomplished a great thing. I love your work. Truly. Blessings, Michelle
"What is significant about my voice?
It is drowned out by music of the world..."
Chanti, among a thousand screams... [I] would hear your voice;
your poetry does indeed speak volumes to me. This poem provides an awakening of sorts for me; an admission; a realization... that I, too, have often felt this way. Oddly enough, I have a poem in the works along these very lines. For what it's worth, your single and unique voice is invaluable. -- Jeff
Thoughts a plenty flow from this pen of internal thoughts. Likened as a rabbit that runs from the pursuing hound we often become the fear of the rabbit, or the desire of the hound. More than not we misunderstand the world around us by letting ourselves be misunderstood. Ones voice is rarely heard amid noise and confusion that at times engulfs us all. To be heard one must speak softly on the days when confusion sleeps. The only true meaning to life is being. Never place yourself within a box and allow it to be tied in hopes that someone will cut the string of freedom. Only by letting ones heart and soul graze on lifes forage can one ever be truly free. Sheesh now ya got me thinking too deep for a duck. Well penned
We are all but spokes in the great wheel of life, Chanti. If we each function, no one sees any problem with us, if we break, we are discarded for a new spoke. We all have a voice that begs to be heard, but few will actually listen. No matter how clearly we state our case, it will still be up for the speculation of most. Very nicely written poetry. Sincere and heart felt.
Take care,
Sherry
Your voice and your pursuits are the only music that matters.
We all subjugate ourselves to outside distractions which tend to mold us into something other than the real us. Even poets are victims. Chanti, I loved this write.
I liked what Eileen had to say, and agree. This is wonderful poetry. The significance of your voice, for starters is that it is unique unto itself. We all lose our way, from time to time, at least I do, and know how it feels to think ourselves alone. When I first joined the Den, your "voice" in the nice things you said about my work really encouraged me to keep at it. So, yes, you are heard. Plese keep writing. You do great work, and track it=0). God bless.
You captured the way so many of us feel at times. And for creative people, the sounds are louder, colors more vivid and emotions come to the surface. This is a really good write.
Reviewed by Al Swanson (Reader)
Reviewed on November 30, 2004
even though you said it was rambling, it made a point to me, seemed like theyr were included in the write, it seemed to say of the chord or the chords within, ya know, despite outward chatter, could be heard or discerned, kind a dramatic I thought, Al
Dearest Chanti, you have expresased so eloquently what many feel and haven't the talent to do it so well. this is a beautiful look into a soul that is stiving for it's flower to be in full bloom with all of it's scent and magical beauty, when perhaps it hasn't yet reached it's peak and is struggling to get there.Feed it with patience, faith and hope, it will grow and bloom beautifully becasue it is a precious bud to begin with, and has the potential for perfection!
This combined narrative dialogue and play is about the uncreated, unborn and undying transcendent Self of God-consciousness and Buddha-nature. It describes an odyssey of transcendent Consciousness Awakening and Remembrance.
This book presents a narrative story of one person's journey of transcendental Awakening and Enlightenment as guided by his two Sage companions. It is grounded in Zen Buddhist and Taoist perspective and uses the I Ching as its structural framework. T
The Double Mirrors and Ones and Zeros theories, by Dylan Tauber. Parallel mirrors in our minds produce a vision of the infinite. Love is all that exists. Free PDF download.
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And very often the remedy appears...when we stop trying so hard to constitute it..
Peter
GAD. if my ramblings were this beautifully poetic, i'd have it made! this is one of your best--poignant, powerful--an amazing write. well done! well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
There's always something in the back of my mind that
seems undone or unsaid. What it is I don't know.
Excellent Chanti!
I see though, your brilliant poetic light shining through in these
verses, depressive mood notwithstanding.
A question, though? What is it that you REALLY want? Is it something already within your reach, but not seen as "important enough?"
This is a beautiful piece of writing, Chanti. I'm glad I sneaked in here (between edits) to check your page.
Love Tinka
People are often too trapped by their own egos
to seek the meaning behind another's words
The human race, sometimes self-seeking,
selfish or filled with envy and spite
- still, I write
Classic..
It is drowned out by music of the world..."
Chanti, among a thousand screams... [I] would hear your voice;
your poetry does indeed speak volumes to me. This poem provides an awakening of sorts for me; an admission; a realization... that I, too, have often felt this way. Oddly enough, I have a poem in the works along these very lines. For what it's worth, your single and unique voice is invaluable. -- Jeff
Take care,
Sherry
Very "Chanti"
Felix
A fine write
Best wishes in your search
Peace
We all subjugate ourselves to outside distractions which tend to mold us into something other than the real us. Even poets are victims. Chanti, I loved this write.