Don't attempt to cram existence
Into the confining cell you've hidden
Your light in imprisoning your
Freest thoughts in a bottle
Opaque and silent
Doubtful and yet
Unquestioning.
Christopher M. Swan 2008
I’m a nice person
I’d help someone if they fell on the street
I’ve always given directions when asked
Of course I smile at strangers, it’s just polite
What do you mean a hospital was bombed today?
Anyway, my favourite artist just released a new album
I know she pollutes with her private jet but… she’s a feminist
I just don’t like to make waves, I’m a nice person
What do you mean kids were dragged from their homes and zip tied?
And I’ve heard we’re supposed to boycott or something
But I just can’t live without my coffee
And I don’t really understand why anyway
It was on the news but I turned it off, it’s just too sad
I have to protect my peace
What do you mean 72,000 confirmed dead in two years?
What do you mean 7,000 books banned in the world’s freest country?
What do you mean they’ve taken women’s ability to speak?
…
I woke up today and my fingers were wrinkled
My joints ached, my hair greyed
Faces sat below me, children, grandchildren
They asked what I did
How I helped
I don’t like to make waves
I’m a nice person
Unprecedented is my favorite word.
It’s more than a term I hadn’t heard.
It’s a concept to be explored,
an unknown that makes life seem short.
It’s my well-known wide-eyed view,
begging me to look anew.
It may be a thought, a sound, a smell,
the source of a Wow, an Uff, an Oh Well.
It may be emotions I wouldn’t tame,
feelings the freest if lacking a name.
Who seeks what hasn’t yet been sought?
And how to learn what no one taught?
Whatever finds me, or I find,
likes to change and blow my mind.
If you don’t mind, do what you do;
the unprecedented proceeds to you.
the mind
flees
any prison
that traps
the body,
for it is
f r e e...
no tether
can keep it
tied down.
it can never be
fenced in
or caged
within four walls.
it has feathers
that can't be plucked
it's free to roam
to soar
with sturdy wings
that can't be clipped;
freer than
any bird that can fly!
it goes places
they can't follow.
it's so free...
like wind
blowing
every which way
You there, with your sparkle and flair,
Come near, so I may gaze upon your fare and beautiful gleam.
The one that seems to glisten, the one that is ever drifting and shifting with a light so bright, you shine through and part the darkness as if it were biblical seas,
seas of red,
reds of love.
You bind and cherish the soul, pull forth love and acceptance in whole and no more do I need what I needed when needing was freest.
No more emotions and feelings of feeling depleted.
So sore from being seated with demons and woes so low, to grow seemed an impossibility.
And now, I feel impunity from the scrutiny that I once felt my way. The lingering tingle that pushes and sways.
I dare say, I have found what others only dream.
That molten golden egg.
The one that seems crazy and sane.
The one that takes the ‘smart' and makes them ‘dunce'.
In your many facets I see what was needed to be seen.
There, inside your rays of beauty and magnificence, set in stance the dance that envelopes the body and soul.
You there, with your sparkle and your flair and the passion and the power, have me wholly. My Crystal catalyst.
Love is the freest
most precious of things
To give without cost
and coveted sings
Love to be spoken
and heard unreserved
To harness the wind
—and fly like a bird
(Dreamsleep: June, 2022)
Why is it, this heart of mine
Filled with such joy, Feeling so fine
Can feel such overwhelming pain
I feel that joy can't come again?
That this same heart can feel
Such Sorrow
And sometimes cannot
See Tomorrow
This same old heart can feel
Such love
Or as light and free as the
Freest dove
This heart feels oh so many ways
Changing with the changing days
That it is really plain to see
This heart is life, this heart is me
This poem was written in about 1987
penned in my old poetry journal
y o u, the band-aid to my bleeding wound,
the life buoy in my ocean,
the answer to my prayers,
my shelter from the storm
the spark to my flame;
you fuel my fire
and passion!
my muse?
that's
y o u!.
what else
can I say?
I'd rather be
your willing captive
--everlastingly yours--
than the freest bird there is!
I wish to be at your mercy
my magnificent force of light, y o u.
Freedom
Degradation, demoralization
Doom, destruction, decadence
And the masses still cry ’Freedom!’
None of this even makes sense
Free to live out every feeling
Every thought and every dream
This will better life and people
Well at least, so it may seem
We should be the freest spirits
With no one to answer to
Life will give us utmost pleasure
Dare not say this isn’t true
Let us revel in denial
Let us be and let us live
No explaining, no correction
Do not force us to forgive
Tell us not of repercussions
We are living by the day
We won’t hear of consequences
If all it does is cause dismay
Freedom is what we are craving
And we get it, each his own
Whether it restricts another
Empathy will not be shown
And the more we long for freedom
The more we all become depraved
Mind the shackles of this freedom
For it wants us all enslaved.
Wendy Nipas
I glimpse a boy sitting on a chair alone,
his feet are hanging down,
his patched face blackened by smoke.
He is unable to cry,
unsure where his family may be,
he scoops clots of fresh blood from his wet Berber hair,
wipes it on his lap.
His eyes nervously follow the camera lenses
He waits.
Once more,
these people begging for peace tell me
some twenty years ago
a bushy man declared war on his people,
dispersing their seeds all around the world.
Some germinate here where
people speak of peace daily,
and lawyers turned politicians quarrel daily about free speech,
and caramel skinned men get shot dead daily,
and courts rule in police favor daily.
It is the law of the freest world, I should be saying.
Freedom
Does it exist?
Is there anything in this vicious world that is truly free?
Birds defy gravity,
But are bound by their own limitations.
Called to the Earth,
At the end of a majestic odyssey like no other.
Perhaps smoke is as free as can be,
Floating aimlessly through oblivion.
Fettered by nothing.
Except the wind,
Carrying it whichever way it wishes…
If smoke is free,
Then freedom can only be achieved through fire.
Through the destruction of Earthly ties.
Through the end of one to bring another.
Ouroboros.
As ashes reduce to nothingness.
Ashes that choke.
Ashes that plague.
Ashes that end.
The Sun may be the freest
Of all.
Illuminating the Darkness.
Breathing life,
Yet bound by the chains that,
Imprison Creation.
Mortality.
Death.
seeking solace under the sun
seeking refuge from your wrath
knowing that i have to go back home
under the sun i think of nothing
under the sun i go back to something
knowing that i have to go back home
it is here that i am in my freest state
it is here that i can most easily be me
knowing that i have to go home
i enjoy the feeling of just doing nothing
i enjoy the feeling of just saying nothing
knowing that i have to go back home
getting a reality check from the rapidly rising moon
getting a reality check that it is no longer noon
knowing that it is time to go back home
driving in circles around what used to be a peaceful paradise
driving in circles around what is now just an eyesore of a torture chamber
knowing that the solace i now seek everyday is more than a dozen prayers away
free in a moment
but everyone wants it
a single second
oh so pleasant
now its gone
life rages on
here's the war
join the corps
there's the pain
that keeps us sane
the toll of death
taking every last breath
the innocence of youth
the freest of any moment
leaving now just the truth
maturity is your atonement
Even in the brightest day the darkest shadow can hide
Even in the calmest sea lurks the overpowering tide
Even in the lightest wind a storm is just a breath away
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
Even in the hardest stone a diamond can be found
Even in the freest world we know we are still bound
Even in the greatest fear we can always win the day
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
Even in the clearest mind were still blinded by the haze
Even in the greatest answer the question still does amaze
Even knowing our destiny we still will walk that way
Even in the greatest love a heart can die away
TAGORE ON
I just happened reading Rabindranath Tagore’ s poem called “The Gardener.”
The Gardener XL: An Unbelieving Smile
“……the dark rim of your eyes.
Then smile as archly as you like
when I come again.”
I am a Wheel, my blood flows inward
Of its spokes.
I am a Star,
My blood dissolves
In its Middle.
The Middle is without Time.
Here is where I am born.
Here the Poet letting Go:
Pollen, Sac, Belly
To more giving
Yes—
The weeks go on
And I contemplate the Gardener
Basing on cumulative
Bending, drawing in
Giving Magnificence
Back to the Universe
Stranded between Reason and Awe.
Tagore brings the World
In as Word/song.
With Black and white
His work became tight
As the freest gift
In specially the Light.
-Daniel de Cullá
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