You ignored me in the elevator because I wasn't your destination floor.
You ignored me in the corridor because you didn't have to pass me to get to your office.
You ignored me in the supermarket because i wasn't your favorite brand.
You ignored me while riding the bus, because I wasn't your destination station.
You ignored me in your poetry, because I didn't rhyme with the rest of your lines.
You ignored me while looking out the window, because i was below your field of vision.
You'll always ignore me since I'm always available, I'm always reachable, and always there.
You ignored me just because you're never content with where you are, what you want, and that which is at your presence.
Will you stop by someday? Will you touch me sometime? Will you glimpse at me just for a moment?
I am the flower in a corner of your resident's backyard.
I'm a butterfly in larva.
I am the painting on the other side of the wall.
I am the candy ready to be unwrapped.
I am the hour that just passed you by.
I am the music of the silence,
The flavor of the tasteless,
The fragrance of the pure air,
The essential ingredient of nothingness,
The quintessential essence of the ignored!
That which the traveler in his journey experiences will eventually shape his identity. So, here are the events as they unfold ....... © copyright by firstcomet
9/6/08
The Dreamland (by firstcomet)!
Looking at the clock, going tick and toc … I want to start a new poem. Then I’m reminded of the absurdity of lines, verses, and rhymes. Somehow we collectively managed to reduce the complexity of human life into a series of economical and political equations wherein poetry has no place. In reality, we have become obsessed with utility and the commercial relationship of "me" with "them", and I’m no outsider to this world. Flowing smoothly in the background is the music of a forgotten yore. It’s a nostalgic theme, though. It seems like art, in general, can eternally leech off sadness and despair. The crashing of the symbols and the march of the battle filed goes contrary to the state of the modern man’s mind; depressed and sinking ever deeper into slothfulness. The curse of the modern man is repetition:
The feather pillow on the bed
Head on the pillow,
Bird in the head,
Flying to the dreamland!
The clock is ticking,
A distance light is blinking,
And I’m thinking …
Another day has gone!
And the breathe-ins
And the breathe-outs
And the roll-lefts
And the roll-rights
And before I know,
The ticking clock
and the blinking light
Are all gone!
The catamaran standing tall,
The Great Wall,
And the Niagara Fall,
I hear them call!
The caul is torn
The baby is born!
It’s Time to sail
To the land of whales!
And then the ticking clock,
And the bright light,
And the apples jam delight;
A new day has begun!
The feather pillow on the bed
Head on the pillow,
Bird in the head,
Flying to the dreamland!
The clock is ticking,
A distance light is blinking,
And I’m thinking …
Another day has gone!
And the breathe-ins
And the breathe-outs
And the roll-lefts
And the roll-rights
And before I know,
The ticking clock
and the blinking light
Are all gone!
The catamaran standing tall,
The Great Wall,
And the Niagara Fall,
I hear them call!
The caul is torn
The baby is born!
It’s Time to sail
To the land of whales!
And then the ticking clock,
And the bright light,
And the apples jam delight;
A new day has begun!
9/4/08
The conversationalist:
Do we ask questions to extract meaningful information from others? Not necessarily, sometimes we ask questions to smooth out social contacts by eliminating those awkward moments of silence. To what category the question “Where are you from” belongs to? What kind of information does a person’s nationality covey about him/her? What are the characteristics of a lazy conversationalist? How about the question “Tell me about your background”? It sounds more intimate and an answer to this question tends to be more informative.
8/30/08
Reflections on expectations
Our natural desire to fit in is at it's climax in college parties. You step
into an space with people engaged in various acts of socializing. You take a
few steps forward and then to the sides ... Your mind being in an
anticipatory state waiting impatietnly to come ... a familiar face, an
smile, an invite. Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching
you ...
into an space with people engaged in various acts of socializing. You take a
few steps forward and then to the sides ... Your mind being in an
anticipatory state waiting impatietnly to come ... a familiar face, an
smile, an invite. Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching
you ...
8/24/08
underappreciated
The image in the mirror looked me in the eye,
Then she said you're underappreciated,
Do you know why?
Then she said you're underappreciated,
Do you know why?
Incredibly cute and unsung,
I muttered, while taking a sigh!
8/22/08
A unifying theme
We all have our own unique personal histories, cultural heritage, and aspirations. But, when the sun sets and all the classrooms and businesses close down, its 12:01am and you're thinking just one more day has passed and it doesn't necessarily mean you're one more day closer to graduation. Pretty soon (for a typical graduate student it means in 2-3 hours) you have to go
to sleep and put the alpha man in you to rest for the next 6:00 hours (if you're lucky). In those honest and pure hours what is that one thing that can bring us all together? The plunger at your building's front-desk!
I think this says something about our essential humanity.
to sleep and put the alpha man in you to rest for the next 6:00 hours (if you're lucky). In those honest and pure hours what is that one thing that can bring us all together? The plunger at your building's front-desk!
I think this says something about our essential humanity.
8/14/08
8/9/08
Breaking away (by firstcomet)
All will is the essence of this mass,
Austere but urged, like lavas,
beneath sober mountains.
impressioned persistently,
years-after-years,
Relieved in a coming encounter,
a place of respite, far a way!
Austere but urged, like lavas,
beneath sober mountains.
impressioned persistently,
years-after-years,
Relieved in a coming encounter,
a place of respite, far a way!
8/6/08
Missing
I came across this poem on some website by a person calling him/herself the emogirl and I thought it was a lovely piece! One of those poems that fills us up with a sense of solidarity, stemming from an affirmation of our very humanity, and simultaneously empties us from within ... ready to be filled up again ... or as poet Robert Hass would probably have it framed
"merely companionable".
"merely companionable".
I MISS U
as the SUN
misses sunflower during winter time........
as an icy Road
misses the warmth of summer time..........
as a Grown up
misses the time when he started singing his very first nursery rhyme.........
as a dark Night
misses the twinkling moon light...........
as a Lover
misses sleep during his long restless night........
as a wounded Knight
misses the will to win during his fight.........
as a Blind
misses the chance of seeing a dim light.............
as a Prisoner
misses the precious moments of being free...........
as a Fish
misses it's resting place in the quiet big sea..........
as an Orphan
misses the face of his affectionate mom........
as a Widow
misses the warmth of her husband's arms.......
as a lonely sick Man
misses the good company who used to ease his painful endless harms....
8/5/08
Splitting a moment (by firstcomet)
Thin is the glass window of my emotion
these days, I go about moments,
split into halves, the ego in full sail,
The heart, battered and frail,
The faltering wind blows,
Taking us where? who knows!
these days, I go about moments,
split into halves, the ego in full sail,
The heart, battered and frail,
The faltering wind blows,
Taking us where? who knows!
8/2/08
Fragments of time (by first comet)
Can you break a moment into halves?
A half to break down,
another to laugh?
A half to break down,
another to laugh?
Or am I doomed to only one;
the one that I'd like to shun?
I guess I will nerver know ...
Such is moments' flow!
7/31/08
The weight of time (by firstcomet)
Why is it that hours make my shoulders tense?
Why is that dealines make my schedule condense?
It think that time is heavy and it makes sense!
Why is that dealines make my schedule condense?
It think that time is heavy and it makes sense!
7/27/08
It ain't gonna rain (by firstcomet)!
The weather man said it will rain
And it added to my pain!
He didn't tell us when
Just suggested indoor we remain.
And it added to my pain!
He didn't tell us when
Just suggested indoor we remain.
I took a deep breath and said amen!
And then I canceled the date
And yielded to my uncompromising fate .
And even though,
Getting shot by a sudden tunder strike,
In the middle of the Charles,
With her by my side,
Was something I very much liked,
In the interest of her safety
By the rules of nature, I had to abide!
One rainy day (by firstcomet)!
Hello You!
The Postcard I mailed,
I wonder if you've got!
You might have thought .
I Forgot!
But, two cards I sent,
To fool my fate up to 75 percent!
The Postcard I mailed,
I wonder if you've got!
You might have thought .
I Forgot!
But, two cards I sent,
To fool my fate up to 75 percent!
I hope all is well!
And if one rainy day,
You hear the bell, or a yell,
By the residence you dwell,
It's gonna be me,
Yes, I've got your address baby!
And maybe, only maybe,
You'll drop your key,
After my extended plea!
And have me over
For a cup of tea!
I might be rather wet
But do not fret!
Just don't forget
To have your key handy
And I know, Your window,
Will be ajar,
Since You Don't own
That machine that blows
So You don't keep your windows close!
And that's why your room, always
Smells like a bouquet of rose!
...
In progress!
7/17/08
7/16/08
7/15/08
Framework (by firstcomet)
Synthesize a box,
to sojourn dynamically;
ears and eyes wide open!
And break away,
before the end of the day!
7/14/08
Hyperion's Song of Destiny
A place to rest isn't given to us.
Suffering humans
decline and blindly fall
from one hour to the next,
like water thrown
from cliff to cliff,
year after year,
down into the Unknown.
--Excertps from Hyperion's Song of Destiny, Poems of Friedrich Hölderlin
Suffering humans
decline and blindly fall
from one hour to the next,
like water thrown
from cliff to cliff,
year after year,
down into the Unknown.
--Excertps from Hyperion's Song of Destiny, Poems of Friedrich Hölderlin
7/10/08
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