Best Left Hand Poems
Memories of once the sun shined,
oiled and tanned we denied
the only living book and subtle nudges.
Nothing but truth in the grave
when too in love with everything
reached the top and found nothing
but the pain of a flame’s dedication
and an absolute conviction,
replays the familiar
screams and whispers them.
Strain a touch through the glare,
but they ain’t there.
No one left to save us
as we find common grace
included tears.
-----------------------------------------------------
12.05.20
Inspired by the song ‘The Rapture’ by Puscifer
Depression breeds artistry and keen insight,
Mania makes life a thrill ride;
Fever lends emotion a scalpel’s edge,
And mistakes cast much needed light.
Ugly is beautiful, and lies sound so pretty,
Blindness makes hearing quite keen;
Tragedy brings out the best in man,
And the rain washes everything clean.
Bruises are beautiful—such vivid colors,
Blood is an unmatchable red;
Scar tissue strengthens wherever it grows,
And nothing can hurt when you’re dead.
I love to write poetry!
Is it the new pen?
Or the words?
Contest: Quinzaine
By: Dr. Ram Mehta
Jenny Emelander 7/11/11
No. 3 place win in Dr. Ram Mehta's "Quinzaine" Contest
7/15/2011
Now already we can boldly vomit out:
Nights spent at the bedside;
Late comings to the office;
Birthday present money collected with a trembling hand;
Cards stuck in cash machines;
Cinema tickets;
Rubbish bins attached to electricity;
Contraceptives;
Invented love
History oriented on politics;
Amicable trip ups;
Story of two seas and a little girl,-
As if a chewing gum is our homeland.
Stuck to stomach.
“Pedro, Donaldo,
Donaldo, Pedro, Pedro”…
Let’s everybody massacre our full up children.
With cookies
With chips
With emulsifiers
Overfill stomach and then massacre.
At least they won’t die of hunger.
As human creatures do not recognize each other
I think: it’s time for us to stand one after another.
And some time ago, - it was when
I was wrapped in your body as in the wool blanket
and pushed two paper ships into the salty lakes -
your eyes,
when the land decreased around our bodies
so that we could touch one another’s land
and I said: it’s time to stop struggle,
it’s high time for peace,
we must return to peace. –
That very moment an unusually hot autumn
Was blowing the streets like leaves
according to my verse that
I had written by chance before we met:
“I put on spring like apron but
dying leaves are falling in my dinner anyway”.
So cold it was.
We were standing beyond the peace
and were going out from our land.
Let’s quickly massacre our children.
Overcut the soft dewlap with a sharp metal and breathe out.
Deeply breathe out.
Breathe out and let out:
All our dreamless night;
Our tiredness of nothing;
As if we are sinking the white ships in the past;
As if we declined an eyelash,
On another side of the river bank
There are slums and Kurd woman
With a baby on her filthy breast
Drags sorrow in the colourful rags
“Pedro, Donaldo,
Donaldo, Perdo, Pedro”...
Drags. Shouts.
But “we” are hurrying home
With a smile on the face
Bringing to our children,
Colourful roads, residues offered by life
As if a chewing gum is other’s homeland.
As if a homeland is just this alkali lake of tears (which)
In exchange for ”Keva,” (a chewing gum)could not been bought for our child,
Never leaves us alone and conceals the past.
You look like something I drew with my left hand
And I'm bilingual, but I'm sure you know where I stand
Don't mean to offend
But invert to your other end
Most assuredly you'll be much more in demand
Well, my left sided hand just isn’t my fave,
I don’t let it do anything,
If there’s ever a contest of “Who is the best?”,
My right is the one that will win,
It can’t button, can’t write, can’t hold a cold beer,
Can’t handle a racquet or ball,
It can’t do little tasks in day to day life,
No matter how big or how small,
But my right hand it can, it holds a place in my heart,
My right is right by my side,
My right hand has always helped me along,
Ever since I was the littlest child,
As a matter of fact, I’ve a wonderful plan,
A plan I might start later today,
I’ll go on a holiday, just my right hand and me,
To a beautiful place far away.
The Left Hand of Darkness tells the story of a lone human emissary from Terra sent to facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization.
However, in doing so he must come to view in the differences of those of the completely dissimilar culture that he encounters; to embracing the aspects of psychology, society, and human emotion on an alien.
The planet Winter or Gethen inhabitants are hermaphrodite, a manwoman, to be respected and judged only as a human being made up of two major religions opposites in belief and ritual. One is mystical and inspired while the other is rational and philosophical. The novel centers on cultural proficiency not only recognize, but also embraces the worldview that each culture brings.
which gender my love
desire, sire or bare our child
while as a woman
The main conflict in this novel is man vs. society. Genly Ai must adapt to the unfamiliar society on Winter. The people of Winter are very different from the people of Earth. They have no gender and no sexual desire except for once a month. Gender roles are not a part of their society; the rules are very different from Earth rules.
music I listen
you are the earth, moon,and stars
mirror I see in
Lesson learned, he must make sacrifices to achieve his goals.
The book can be read as a love story or anthropological adventure.
2/27/2018
The Left Hand of Darkness written by Ursula K. Le Guin, published in 1969
Quote from the book:
Light is the left hand of darkness
And darkness the right hand of light.
Two are one, life and death, lying
Together like lovers in kemmer
Like hands joined together,
Poetry Contest: Ursula Le Guin
Sponsored by: Debbie Guzzi
There is a man – he is still alive in his eyes
and he is dragging his body beyond his own look.
Look here, we too believe:
as soon as he reaches the ruins
he will crush his head under the mill-stone.
The horizon is too vast.
Only it is the bed of eye
where I pushed the ships in the evening sea.
Now you and me will drink this untruth too,
then will embrace each other and….
You let me meet your shoulder.
You have returned your shoulder to me
because you could not bend the road
because you have no extra shoulder –
you have not the third one,
as you have only two of them and you just hide the empty sleeve
in order bread to eat justice
the bread itself to be eaten by blood
the blood by earth
in order the earth to defend both of us.
I put on my back a forest as it were the colored pencils
And as a hawk I flew over the accidental food.
I said: I am a poet
I must be alive in my texts
Whatever will happen.
I held your hand, You squeezed tightly
When I embraced further.
I held you closer still, You did not resist
When I rested my head on yours.
I realised then, I realised all at once
How much you meant, how much I wanted.
Never been so scared, The thought that time
Of what could have happened.
Yet all that time, All that time
(The person who cared the most...)
In your mind of minds, They were not there-
The person who cared the most...
The things you said, thought, meaningless
To the one who looked out for you.
In your confusion, You pleaded love
In your sobriety, You demand forget.
Homeland, do spread a net in the hungry child’s eyes.
Fishes grab with backbones the seaweeds in the swampy coloured lake.
Homeland, have no mercy on us, show your utmost hate.
It’s so easy to reserve in regret ...
For global hardship we will justify the time, in which
You have not been changed,-
Just we turned into the globally dangerous beasts.
The time does not move.
Probably water has leaked in its feet,
Make us see the spring,
But...
We were cold.
Homeland, do colour the street with fresh blood
Paint bloody circles on the streets.
As if the suns.
People do not choose foreign cities.
A foreign city can be discovered even in your own town, -
it means when you pass by and it is impossible to recognize people.
Look, a baby is lying at my feet, it is drown in the blood.
Look, streets have made justice easy.
And bread has eaten justice,
And a man was counting.
And justice was eaten by bread
And bread by blood
And blood was sent to the earth.
And quaked the earth.
It was earthquake.
My homeland – it’s this glass full of blood
Now you and me will drink this glass of blood-and-wine
We will embrace each other and then…
You will cut off my shoulder.
You will cut off my shoulder
as you have not the third shoulder
because the third shoulder you are yourself
And you could not bend yourself
for me to lean upon.
I will put ashes speechlessly
into my stung mouth,
and everything that is left from our love
I will leave on the top of the tongue.
As human creatures do not recognize each other
I think: it’s time for us to stand one after another.
And some days ago, - it was when
I was wrapped in your body as in the wool blanket
and the whole autumn tumbled outside,
I pushed two paper ships
in the salty lakes – your eyes,-
I came out from the peace
and said:
Here is my portion of love
Here is fear overcomed by me
Here is my ruined trench
Here is my and your and someone’s child.
Because:
Love does not always mean happiness
But it always assumes
love.
Because fright is always bigger
than the loss may be.
Because life is so simple
we cannot waste it in the fear.
Because the war does not assume winning only
but it’s also no comfort to wait it in trench.
As homeland does not always mean truth
but the earth.
It means children
it means the right shoulder being cut off.
- please, let’s return to the wholeness.
And the bread was eating justice
and a man was counting.
Let’s everybody massacre our children.
Grown-ups . To be grown-ups.
Those who could not be born
And never asked for.
Who overtook us in birth,-
Has got old;
Who was dreamt up by us from the lines on the palms;
Was not loved by us;
Not hated and
Still loved.
Who accused us of failure of sunrise.
Who could not go to school;
Could not find the way,
Who nowhere found own portion of the land;
Became a killer;
Became a thief;
Became a whore;