Your Legacy Must Be Both Love and Fear

Your legacy must be both love and fear.
I know that when you died, you feared for me.
The family curse you carried in your breast
Was not a gift you wanted to pass on.
But fear of it, just like my love for you,
Must linger in my heart, unwelcome guest!
And as I weep for your too early death,
I also can hear rumblings of my own.
Ah, Mother! We are linked like paper dolls,
A line of little cutouts in a row.
I see my clearest memories in my mirror
And feel your anguish bloom beneath my breast.
For this, my love for you is more, not less.
In our misfortune there's a common grace:
For me, in that you must have grieved my burden;
For you, in that you must have mine foreseen.
The Cancer That Killed You Was Part of You Gone Quite Insane
The cancer that killed you was part of you gone quite insane:
The good run amok; death from life bursting awry,
Like a poor paranoid on a bell tower sniping away,
Killing the order that gives all the colony life.
Nature, of course, has madness built into its music,
Disturbing its peace with the agony all artists crave.
Perhaps that's what killed you: the one-in-so-many malfunctions
That chaos requires to shatter the oneness of light.
But chaos is aided in our time by greed in abundance:
Greed like a cancer destroying our colony Earth;
Greed that we eat, drink, and breathe, in our dreams, in our language;
Greed in the nuclei of our dwindling faiths.
What killed you, my loved one, is blended in recycled plastic
Spewing its toxins in micrograms into the sky.
Your life was a goat on the altar of modern convenience,
Bearing the sins of us all towards that merciless god.
We live in a world whose rulers are partners with death;
For whom cancer must be a number that balances out.
You were just perhaps the unlucky percent to be traded
For progress towards some CEO's end-of-year bottom line.
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Some Find It Quite Sufficient to Endure

Some find it quite sufficient to endure
In permanent and unremitting pain,
X-ing out all else but getting through
The day with neither loss nor hope of gain,
Yearning more for closure than for cure.
Such find faith in difficult terrain,
Immersed in grace both vivid and unsure,
Xerophytes that do as they must do.
Some Find Their Identity in Courage
Some find their identity in courage,
In giving nothing up to loss or pain,
X-ing out all traces of self-pity,
Then taking on the demons once again,
Yielding only what the years must ravage.
Sing, then, of those who rise above the damage,
In valor beautiful, if rarely pretty,
Xerophytes that bloom in harsh terrain.
O Lord, Help Me Be a Burden
O Lord, help me be a burden!
My mother and my sister do their duty,
But I can see impatience in their eyes.
Help me, please, endure until my time.
My mother and my sister do their duty,
Loving me as righteousness demands.
Help me, please, endure until my time,
And midst my pain to live with ample grace.
Loving me as righteousness demands,
They teach me how to lean upon your love,
And midst my pain to live with ample grace.
O lift me up upon your unspent shoulders!
They teach me how to lean upon your love,
But I can see impatience in their eyes.
O lift me up upon your unspent shoulders!
O Lord, help me be a burden!
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Eighty-Eight

Eighty-eight spends much of life in bed,
Interred beyond her time in drugs and pain.
Grateful only for the gift of sleep,
Having lost the will to laugh or weep,
The shrunken doll repeats just one refrain,
Yearning for the comforts of the dead.
Even so, the trail of pills has led
Into a world she grapples with in vain,
Grasping for a grace she cannot keep,
Harsh and vivid hauntings of the brain
That make of life a stew of joy and dread.
Given the Fragility of Life
Given the fragility of life,
Each of us remains a miracle,
Though new emerged from some bright sea of pain.
When every second feels just like a knife
Entering the soft flesh of the will,
Life whispers soon we will be well again.
Linger, then, along the edge of shade;
Soon enough you will be in the sun,
Open-armed, erect, and unafraid.
Old wounds remind us of fierce battles won,
Nor will our patient faith not be repaid.
Cherrie
Cherrie is now using Debbie's kidney,*
Having lost the service of her own.
Each moment of existence is a gift
Replacing just the one one just has left,
Renewing momently the moment gone.
In such a melody each note exactly
Embodies the full grace of what was done.
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Seasons Are like Seasonings

Seasons are like seasonings,
Each a complex taste
Amplifying appetites of
Souls with senses graced.
Open up your windows,
Nestle in your beds,
Scent the scents of wakening fields,
Gaze at golds and reds.
Revel in the tang of time
Even now when night
Ends too soon the caravans
Traveling towards light.
In gratitude for being
Now sing that all might hear!
Give the gift of merriment!
Sing of love and cheer!
Secular Celebrations Seem So Spare
Secular celebrations seem so spare,
Even with religious ancestry,
As though the brick beneath what had been there
Stood unadorned where stuccoed grace should be.
Old prayers and praises now sound insincere,
No longer fitting where but reason reigns.
'Tis the season, nonetheless, for cheer;
Scoured of mystery, mystique remains.
God aside, the dark still turns towards light;
Revolving Earth still tilts into the sun;
Each gift of breath still fills one with delight;
Each child is still all being new begun.
The miracles one celebrates are questions
Implying answers too remote to know.
Nor need one not have faith in the directions
Given those whose fate it is to go
Step by careful step towards what is so.
Seldom Do We See Trees Go Out Walking
Seldom do we see trees go out walking,
Eager to drink in the morning sun.
As they lift their long arms towards the light,
Still they must be rooted in the earth,
Of one soil and water, in one place.
Night is when the restless go out walking,
Seeking dreams that cannot face the sun,
Gigantic, pulsing screams of garish light
Reeling through the agonies of Earth,
Escaping the drab certainties of place.
Each winter there's a time to go out walking,
To see the hills washed in a newborn sun,
In the pale slant of late December light,
Neither pastel dreams nor solid earth.
Gently adrift, we settle on some place,
Sunlight walking through our patch of Earth.
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What a Puzzle Nick's Poems Are

What a puzzle Nick's poems are!
I cannot grasp what he is after.
Marx is easier by far!
Why write, if one is out to bar
All comprehension? Does he hafta?
Marx is easier by far.
If only some new thought would jar
Bourgeois perception, as in Kafka!
But Nick's poems empty puzzles are.
I think I would put him on par
With Cage or Pollack: Which is dafter?
Marx is easier by far.
Under what sectarian star
Was he begat? What gnomic laughter
Twists those poems which puzzles are?
Ah me! I'll never know. A for-
Eign joke, a filial disaster!
God! Such puzzles Nick's poems are!
Marx is easier--by far!
When You Were Just a Lad of Twenty
When you were just a lad of twenty,
Wet behind the ears,
You bet me that you wouldn't marry
At least a full ten years.
Well, that was but eight years ago,
And here you are today:
The partner of a lovely bride,
A groom in full array!
A thousand dollars is my prize
Now you've been proven wrong.
The moral is: it's never wise
To think you are too strong
To be touched by the beauty of
An unrestrained affection.
You lost your bet, but won your love:
Now here's to your selection!

Young and Lovely, Strong and Sane
Young and lovely, strong and sane,
Life's a lot of fun.
We snowmobile and laugh and hang
And don't hurt anyone.
You love my blue eyes and blonde hair,
I love your mischievous smile.
We drift a lot among the stars,
Then walk home single file.
Although we're just now starting out,
Only months together,
We'll settle down in Waikiki
And be in love forever!
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Wacky Carols

Evil knight, wholly night,
Vests his dough in a young nerd bright.
Even so, the malevolent childe
Loses his shirt in a downturn mild,
Yielding sword and piece.
Now we will never have peace.
Angels often herd on high,
Nodding nimbly all the day.
God says little in reply,
Echoing what actors say:
Less is more-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-or-o-o-o-o-oria,
As one seeks the way-o.
There is no well, the angels did say,
In search of a hot tub in which they might lay,
Nor more than one shepherd to manage the sheep,
A lover of Oprah, demented but deep.
Praise be the shoppers, toyful and triumphant,
And the package tourists bound for Bethlehem.
Underneath their passions, they remain but angels,
Living to adore Him
As they serve other lords.
Give us what we're asking for, or we will you dismay.
In Heaven God may reign, but we want toys on Christmas Day!
Unless you do, some things you cherish well might go astray,
Like that Longines watch that long has been your joy, long your joy,
If you don't give in, you just might lose your joy!
We Met upon the Internet
We met upon the Internet,
A friendship electronic,
Expressed alone in words and thoughts,
Inevitably platonic.
We live too far apart for us
To mingle in the flesh,
But much more close than family,
Our hearts and feelings mesh.
Your dear, dear self reveals itself
Without a voice or face.
We have our own sweet home within
Our precious cyberspace.
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Recent Studies Have Shone

Recent studies have shone
On fathers with their sons
What many would expect
To buy with common cents.
Four instants:
(1) would expect declining years
(2) refuse to let the parties
Party until (3)
(4) oblivious recents.
Still, the studies co-relate
People who are know-knows.
(What better weigh to meat
Than to gather date-a together?)
Recent studies have shone
Pretty much what recent studiers
Have set out to sea
In tall sailing labs
Whose barque is better
Than they're bright.
Secretaries Seek Some Signs of Pleasure
Secretaries seek some signs of pleasure
Emanating from the inner throne.
Clearly, each is an uncherished treasure,
Running the whole office on her own.
Even so, the voice is deferential,
Though the thought knows well who knows the score.
A moment's pause might seem inconsequential;
Remember, though, that patience wins the war.
In every secretary lives an angel,
Empathetic almost to a fault,
Self-sacrificing, sweet, and sentimental,
Deep within a twelve-inch concrete vault.
A decent word, with flowers or chocolate, may
Yet charm the cherub Secretaries Day.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
In truth, thou shoulds't be catalogued in fall.
X-rays do show the darling Buds of May
Traveling still along th'arterial wall.
Yet thou has't late become more temperate,
Older as thou art than thy flesh seems.
Nor do thine eyes betray thy body's date,
Even as within thy spirit gleams.
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I Can't Believe I'm Marrying/ My Grandma's Paperboy

I can't believe I'm marrying
My grandma's paperboy!
She said that you were "dreamy"
And the sort I would enjoy.
My grandma! Well, I humored her
And took a look at you,
And saw, those many years ago,
That what she said was true.
But not so fast, because we lived
A continent apart,
And were too young to comprehend
The wisdom of the heart.
We needed time to grow into
The truth that we had seen,
And let some others stampede through
The years that came between.
But Grandma always said that you
Were just the one for me,
And now we are all gathered here
To publicly agree!
How often can we say that love
Was truly at first sight?
But since I first laid eyes on you,
I've known Grandma was right!
I Have a Monster Crush on You
I have a monster crush on you,
A super-dinosaur!
It sits upon my chest and throat
And yet I beg for more.
When you're away I miss you so
My heart is full of sand.
Yet when you're here my stupid fear
Won't let me touch your hand.
I cannot sleep, I cannot eat,
I'm so wrapped up in you.
My thoughts drift up, away from words,
And fade into the blue.
I know this crush is not your fault;
The dinosaur is mine.
Yet if you could, please rescue me,
And put your arms around me, and hold me, and say
you love me, and Oh! God! Would that be good!
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From a Secret Admirer

Whose gift this is you cannot know.
My heart is in your keeping though.
You will not mind my writing here
To tell you that I love you so.
I know that you must think it queer
For me to love and not come near
But linger by some frozen lake
This most romantic time of year.
I sometimes give my head a shake
And ask if there is some mistake.
It's lonely out here 'mid the sweep
Of bitter wind and icy flake.
My love for you is dark and deep,
But it's a promise I will keep
As from afar I watch and weep,
As from afar I watch and weep.
Gisela
Gisela would all essences rescind,
Inviting entities to go their way.
So would we all decide what we would be,
Each moment giving way to mystery,
Leaves becoming leopards for the day
As worms are stripped of wombats by the wind.
Graduation Is a Time
Graduation is a time
When our thoughts turn naturally
To vandalism, sex, and crime,
Now that we at last are free.
Our teachers think we're well prepared
To make decisions on our own;
But now, perhaps, they're running scared
As they listen to this poem.
Don't worry, folks, we aren't crazy,
Though sometimes we look that way;
Just annoyed, bored, and lazy
As we make it through the day.
So just like birds out of a cage
Or slaves set free from toil and pain,
We aim to try to act our age
And be for now a bit insane.
For life too soon will close its doors,
And then as we grow old in years
We'll teach our own kids to be bores,
But hopefully they'll stuff their ears
And do as we dream, not as we do,
Facing life a tad askew.
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You Are to Me a Very Special Sun

You are to me a very special sun
That shines upon a world few ever see,
A world I'm shy to show to everyone,
That hides its urgent truth from even me.
Without your light it is a world of darkness;
Its heaven and its hell lie fast asleep.
With you as sole and sympathetic witness,
The words come forth from out my vasty deep.
And so I cannot be myself without you;
No one is whole without some loving friend.
There is a quiet joy in me about you
That lets me say what I need not defend.
Long may we serve each other to give light
To all the loveliness that haunts the night.
You Have a Smile that Lights the World
You have a smile that lights the world,
Shining from within,
Breaking out between the clouds
That form the skin of self.
Lucky we, to live nearby
That unpretentious sun,
To share its fire, to feel its love,
To know its warmth so well.
Just as the sun's sweet liquid joy
Is captured in the wine,
So with us your happiness
Is captured in our lives.
Your Friendship Is the Sky Above My Home
Your friendship is the sky above my home,
The crystal air I breathe, through which I see.
I can't believe how much you mean to me.
Without you with me, time would turn to stone.
I don't know why I need you so, or how
I know so absolutely I'll be there
In times your wounded heart can hardly bear.
I only know this truth is with me now.
Why is it in our lives that we need friends
To be awake and fully what we are?
Alone we dream but never cross the bar;
With you I share a grace that never ends.
Your Laugh Is like a Silver Bell
Your laugh is like a silver bell:
Clean and light and free;
Just like the hours of happiness
Your friendship brings to me.
You're like a room of sweet wind chimes
Enlightened by a breeze,
Or like an open, grassy field
Dotted with old trees.
I'm grateful for the things you do,
But more for what you are:
A breath of clear, bright open sea,
Of life beyond the bar.
I Would Not Be the Sun to End Your Night
I would not be the sun to end your night,
Nor would I be the wall to turn your tears.
But I will watch with you until it's light.
Because there are no words to set things right
Nor hopes that one immersed in mourning hears,
I would not be the sun to end your night,
Offering a wisdom far too bright
To soothe your pain or put to rest your fears.
But I will watch with you until it's light.
There must be time to grieve that sorrow might
Be equal to the love of days and years.
I would not be the sun to end your night.
For grief, before it breaks, must reach its height,
And tides must turn before one homeward steers.
But I will watch with you until it's light.
There are agonies no friendship can requite,
A bitterness unstained till dawn appears.
I would not be the sun to end your night.
But I will watch with you until it's light.
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For Most of Us Life Passes like a Dream

For most of us life passes like a dream,
Revealing only what is on our minds.
Inside the prison of the self we see
Each object as a shadow on our wall.
Nothingness awaits, as sure as night.
Did I not have you, dear friend, I might,
Shadow on a shade, not be at all.
How much we need a word beyond our sea:
In love and laughter, thoughts of different kinds,
Perhaps, with luck, unraveling a seam.
Forgive Me if I Come into Your Bed
Forgive me if I come into your bed,
Open wounds to read therein your shame,
Remove your skin to gaze on naked sorrow,
Tear out your heart to substitute my name.
You wish, no doubt, to keep your personhead.
One we are, and one will be tomorrow;
No one is ever utterly unwed.
Even strangers are one flesh in joy and pain.
Friends Are Prisoners of Expectation
Friends are prisoners of expectation,
Reflected in the mirror of their need.
Instead of being happy on their own,
Each knows that one cannot survive alone,
Nor think unless another plants the seed.
Dependent all for person on relation,
So to be fed, must one the other feed.
Goodbye, Dear Friend and Graduate
Goodbye, dear friend and graduate!
Our golden time is over now,
Our time of nothing more than time,
Days of simply being friends.
But I will always treasure how
Your love for me slipped into mine,
Embracing me where courage ends.
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Foster Children Move from Place to Place

Foster children move from place to place
With memories that walk the night alone,
Nor is the love theirs that they must embrace.
Yet most survive with a peculiar grace,
Even though their hearts should turn to stone
As they move about from place to place.
Perhaps within themselves they find a space
To furnish as they would a mobile home,
Finding scraps of things they can embrace,
A memory like some much-fingered lace,
Thoughts and dreams that only they have known,
Moving as they do from place to place,
Their childhood impossible to trace
In the years of yearning after they are grown,
Filled with love they've chosen to embrace,
Yet with their losses etched upon their face,
Pain for which no penance can atone.
How can they move and move from place to place,
Surrendering the love they must embrace?
Gifts Come in Many Shapes and Guises
Gifts come in many shapes and guises:
Apples meant to nurture seeds
Wind up in many strange disguises,
Ministering to other needs.
When a new soul comes into being,
Hope anew springs from the Earth:
No one has the gift of seeing
What new gift comes with each birth.
What brings a young girl savage pain
Can bring joy to a man and wife:
One cannot weigh the loss or gain,
But one can always treasure life.
Life's a gift beyond what we
Can know or understand or say:
There's a nonstop ecstasy
Beneath the hum of every day.
There's a love so radical
That nothing can escape its glow,
Luminous and magical,
Everywhere we are or go.
And so we take this gift of love,
A little piece of it, new-born,
And feel some lovely fortune move
Within us towards eternal dawn.
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Reason Is a Calling of the Heart

Reason is a calling of the heart.
One rarely reasons deeply but for love.
Best thought is passionate, a well-wrought art
Endeavoring to free as much as prove.
Remember me, then, for the many loves
That with reason I once sought to serve,
And the people that my spirit moved,
Returning far more joy than I deserved.
Eventually, all one gives one gains.
Years and people pass; the love remains.
Romeo and Juliet
Remember not the pathos of our plight
Or the tears of our too-youthful end.
Mourn us not, for we became a light,
Eden shining still through deathless night,
On all who first pure love would comprehend.
Judge us not, although we chose to die,
Undone by beauty such as few have known,
Love so perfect one could not reply
In words less meteoric than its own.
Each life must wend its way towards death and pain.
Though we died young, our story will remain.
Sinners All, We Ask for Your Forgiveness
Sinners all, we ask for Your forgiveness
As we await the hour of Your return.
If only grace were something one could earn!
Nor can we hope to imitate Your goodness.
The saints know well the hopelessness of being
Put upon the pedestal of faith
As though we had already gained Your grace.
The heart is naked to Your restless seeking.
Regard us all, then, equally with love:
In saints and vicious pederasts find lovers,
Cherishing not one above the others,
Knowing none has anything to prove.
So Few Realize What Life Is About
So few realize what life is about.
If I knew nothing else, I knew warmth, pleasure,
Despite everything, I knew love.
People look for what they can measure:
A degree, money, children they can brag about,
Reasons others might wish them mazel tov.
On days like other days were moments I treasured,
Life like other lives, humdrum, passing without
Yammering, with you, with the children, full, enough ...
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Life Blessed Me with a Sunny Disposition

Life blessed me with a sunny disposition
Even as I lived through terrible storms.
Sport was my passion; justice was my mission.
The world, I thought, was something one reforms.
Embrace it, then, with all your warmth and joy!
Rebel, as I did, for, and not against,
Resolving to create, not to destroy,
Open-armed and loving, not incensed.
Delight, exuberance, a child's wonder --
Not naively did I these display.
Even though the wide world split asunder,
Yet one needs to live and love and play.

Make My Death a Canticle for Peace
Make my death a canticle for peace.
Evil has no greater friend than anger,
Making ready converts to its cause.
On me think but of beauty as you pause,
Remembering the service of a stranger
In giving life to purchase your release.
Armies live according to their art.
Love of life at times requires death,
Defending what would else find hungry jaws.
As you enjoy the gift of every breath,
Yet mourn for me with morning in your heart.

Make of Me Whatever You Desire
Make of me whatever you desire.
Empty me of everything but you.
Memory's the light without the fire,
Offering a glimpse of what will do.
Remember me for your sake, not for mine.
I'm nothing now but what you want to see,
A well-wrought miniature of your design,
Laid to rest within your marquetry.
Days of longing are for you alone
As I turn slowly into soil and stone,
Yielding what means nothing more to me.
Maybe I Was Skittish Among Strangers
Maybe I was skittish among strangers:
Only you, my loved ones, owned my heart.
Racing into hiding, I would know,
Given time, the foreigners would go:
Here was home, in which they had no part.
As though I knew my fate, I dodged all dangers;
Nor could I alter it, for all my art.
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I Want You to Be Here with Me for Christmas

I Want You to Be Here with Me for Christmas
I want you to be here with me for Christmas,
Even if you leave your heart at home.
I know that lately my love makes you restless,
But it's too hard to spend this time alone.
My love for you is like the Christmas season:
Joyful, yet with knowledge of the end.
My need for you has neither hope nor reason:
If not a lover, please, just be a friend.
Please, just be a friend, and come to me
When all the world is bright with love and song.
You are my pillar and my fantasy,
My earth and yet the sky for which I long.
My need for you, of course, is mine, not yours,
Nor need you answer me but out of love.
This is the season when we open doors
To let in those whose need our hearts might move.
And after Christmas you may go your way
To leave me with my sadness and my dreams.
I have no right to bother you to stay,
Knowing how your heart, unaltered, leans.
I want you to be here with me for Christmas,
Even if you leave your heart at home.
What you decide, and why, is not my business,
But still for me it's hard to be alone.
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Happiness Can Also Be a Haunting

Happiness can also be a haunting,
A text one can recite but cannot read.
Peace need not erase the need for need,
Pressed to a perfection one finds daunting.
Yet often one can win with little warning,
Mothering the plant without the seed,
Of help in breeding though of different breed,
Taking pleasure in another's dawning.
How one feels depends on how one chooses,
Embracing always less that what one wills,
Redeeming even tragedy with passion
'Mid the sinking tapestries of night.
So may you find the courage that refuses
Dominion to the clarity that kills,
Awakening the mother that might fashion
Yearning strong enough to see the light.
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Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm dizisi izle, Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm seyret, Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm full izle, Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm yeni bölüm izle

Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm

Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm izle seyret online full canlı indirmeden hd tek parça yeni son bölüm özeti tanıtımı fragmanı konusu izle seyret

Miran’ın Asmin ve Altay bebeği de sürüklediği karanlık yolculuğu sınır kasabasında dipsiz bir köşede mola vermiştir. Genç kadının hastalığı planları bozar. Şehir hastanesinden getirilen Dr. Çiğdem, Asmin’i hayata döndürmek için elinden geleni yapmaktadır. Dr. Çiğdem bu köyden çıkış yolu olmadığının yavaş yavaş farkına varır. Tedavinin etkisiyle kendine gelmeye başlayan Asmin ise kendini ve bebeği bırakmış, Dr. Çiğdem için endişelenmeye başlamıştır

Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm izle

Aşk Bir Hayal 25. Bölüm izle

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