The birth of a Poemcatcher

St Andrew’s, StAnza poetry festival 2010 was when I followed through

on my crazy idea of begging for poems.
Within a day I had 58 fresh poems donated in 5 languages.
Within 2 days it was over 110.
On day 3 I launched the book sales, using a poster and a promise of postage.
I sold 20 books in an afternoon.
Its called QUAKE – because I want to buy toys for the kids in quake-zones.
Each day there was a new word to inspire new writing.
Day 1 – Quake. Day 2 – Time . Day 3 – Soul. Day 4 – Happiness
True happiness.
If you want to support the project, you can buy a copy or follow the Poemcatcher’s Blog for my future opportunities to participate.
Enhanced by Zemanta

Catch the the pass of playfulness

The poem of voice is written in the words of pen expressed,

The dance of feet  are sung within the heart within the chest,

The path of joy plays lovingly, as youth ages into whole,

The smiles of love, lived live-ily, and pleasure of the Soul.

Dance within the steps are written,

Sing alound bespoke,

The joys today are yours be smitten

It’s Life, so laugh and Joke.

1 June 2008 – A.N.

Describing Time

Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden.
Extracted from BUIRNT NORTON
(No. 1 of ‘Four Quartets’)
T.S. Eliot

Describing The Dance

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
This is extracted from BUIRNT NORTON
(No. 1 of ‘Four Quartets’)
T.S. Eliot

Falling

Falling
Written at MKP
19/10/2007
Fear can fall a loving man
Scared in soul to trust
That Men of Grace might love him back
This step to heal he must
Fear did fall this loving man
Scared in soul to trust
That men of Grace might love Me back
This step to heal I must
A fall from height
A moment’s still
A prayer to guide the way
And then,
A breath…
of life breathed in
As mistrust fell away
And then a breath
of life breathed in
as mistrust fell away.
The silence filled with Power and Might
A Longing, Ancient, Took to flight
Replaced by freedom to be strong
A sense of “I” and “I belong”
Ho Men.

Sacred listening

In the experience of the healing, there are moments beyond words. They arise from the togetherness, the connection and the stillness of the moment. They arise because they are given blessing and permission to arise. You will know them in the moment and they may linger as gems in your memory of the experience. I listen for these moments, allowing them the beauty they deserve. These are The Sacred.

Your heart yearns to be heard,
to express the deepest of its desires,
yet its language is not in words
and few remember the way (to hear).
Come as children to the seat of the soul,
be received in love
grace the voice of your heart with the space to speak,
know it will be heard,
received,
and honoured,
for it is LOVE.

Dam Disease

The following Poem shares my outlook on the Dis-ease creation process and hints to the path of healing that lies in self-responsibility.

Dam Disease
I’ll hide from me, I’ll hide from you
I trust you’ll do the same
In ignorance we’ll live our lives
and hold at bay the pain

‘cept when we lie, the truth not faced
A dam wall builds in hurtful place
Till dam comes down and all denied
Comes through our body from inside.

From inside come the years held out
The feelings, tears you did not shout
They leak expression through the wall
Discomfort till you have to fall

We call this illness or dis-ease
Its just a pointer where we please
To stay denied or heal and own
Our fuller self, than skin and bone