The coincidence of
opposites
attracts and repels
Polarity of motion
where
all paradoxes dwell
Conjoined in their
distinction
negating the either/or
Essential
singularity
— both after and before
(Eastern College: September, 2024)
Here and there, people grow;
Grow by life’s challenges.
Challenges multiply but go;
Go to new lands.
Lands are here and there for better;
Better for green pastures.
Pastures inviting people and animals;
Animals certainly trail weather.
Weather’s sometimes attractive;
Attractiveness brought us here.
Here is one more struggle;
For life is all about wounds and scars.
Scars can go; others remain indelible.
Indelible because we live to experience;
Experience for building our humanity.
Humanity on a new land here;
Here is not the endless end.
Poem by Ndabuli Mugisho
Funny Here and There Days
Some days i don't know what's wrong or right
What to think or what to do
I haven't got a blooming clue !
Chasing thoughts good and bad
I feel happy then i feel sad
I'm disappointed then i'm glad
Looking out of the window
Watching everyone go by
Life carries on, no matter what
Enjoy, everything you have got
I want to be alone, but feel lonely
I need sometime to absorb the crazy
Then i can face the world again
Before i go insane
My mind is full of jumble
My words are a dull mumble
Feel like i'm going to tumble
But, somehow i stand tall
I'm not going to fall
I've grown stronger
Won't stand this nonsense any longer !
I'm here, you're there
So far out of view
I wish I could be anywhere
And everywhere with you
For fleeting precious moments
I see you every week
And sometimes when we have them
In them we get to speak
I'd love to sit with you all day
Who knows just what we'd do
But I would do most anything
That you wanted to
I'd leave the choices up to you
I'd just come along
For time with you is all I want
And for that time I long
A ghost jumps out, assembling
itself word by word as it begins
to take on what seems familiar.
You can almost feel it crawling
into your skin, infiltrating
your brain as if it knows the way
around even your secrets.
It's a past you, locked behind
the lines of a poem written years ago
that your eyes have just let out.
You make room, greet him
as a friend coming home
after being away for so long.
He seems unsure, unwilling
to let go of something fragile
hidden under the shadow of a line
laid down half a lifetime ago.
You tell him that you still
have a place for it, somewhere
safe, setting it free each evening
to take wing and fly
the circuit between
here and there
before coming back.
Beyond the future
you find the past
Hiding in the present
—first and last
(Dreamsleep: December, 2022)
I would like to be there
but always seem to be here,
never quite making
the last train as it pulls out
of the station, not getting
the invite, being somewhere
else and without
the entry fee.
On clear days
I can almost see across
the wide expanse to there,
beckoning with its brightness.
Sometimes I'm sure
it's nothing more
than a mirage,
a shimmering deceit,
playing in the distances
that stretch from here
to the other side of me.
I'm here again
Checking you out
Missing you again
Calling out
I'm here again
Taking you out
Kissing you again
Chilling out
Here we go again
Thinking where to go
Under the sun again
Outshining and ready to go
There we go again
Hanging on tree top lines
Under the clouds again
Unzipping the borderlines
Our world will never end
Up and down the bend
Left and right we hold so tight
For so much love we'll strongly fight
Care May Be Here and There
may be here and there
for everyone we should care
with much left to spare
must be perfection
what consists of protection
in each direction
we want revision
of what was a division
with God's [permission
so poor we will be
now an endangered specie
from sin God saved me
candy could consume
for it had to make more room
for sweet bride and groom
death on door did knock
ended up in state of shock
we were short in stock
heard that God had called
some day soon will have been bald
by lion might be mauled
we must wear a mask
which was all that they would ask
than completed task
Jim Horn
Bare feet,
free chest,
bare arms ... here I come
so alone through the streets ...
So hot, so sad
cold soul, tropical ....
In boots
full-bodied breast,
dressed arms ... there she goes
shivering and charming
through the heavy streets ...
soul also frozen
on the coldest morning
of your glacier life ...
I appreciate the cold,
she likes the heat ...
What does she have I desire,
I provide her my fire ...
We only need concertation
His words in transit,
world travel unleashed,
the world his page to run
Alone in his chair,
both here and then there
—the distance misbecome
(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)
We are here
and sometimes there
for each other.
How else could we support
this glad global network
of becoming?
Health is here
when abundant life is not over there,
just past some eastern sunrise horizon,
while I sulk and stain my past
missed opportunities
stalking toward, and balking against,
our appalling future
dodging unnecessary climate pathologies,
paranoid and dogmatic ethologies,
faithless loser psychologies,
frantic lose/lose unsurvival ecologies,
upside down logicalities,
out-chucked enculturing mythologies
settling for Left-Yang either/or toleration management
when we are designed for both/and
natural spiritualities.
We are rightmind here
and sometimes left disembodied rememory there
for each suffering other.
How else could we win/win support
this glad local/global health network
of being/becoming inter-relationships?
You are two things distinct,
that exist yet unfurled
You as yourself,
and as part of the world
Fundamentally the same,
but functionally unpaired
Your story twice told
—as you’re here and then there
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2019)
Had rode my mare here there and everywhere;
Path was with rocks having been hard to bare,
Places that are seen did appear deep in despair;
Prayed and with God my experiences did share.
Often may be many things that about will care;
My soul damaged, torn up and left in disrepair;
Being with God in heaven shall start to prepare,
Even after ending up old and left with gray hair.
God, all things that you gave me I am well aware;
My holy magnificent savior being beyond compare;
Being both brilliant and vibrant with a bright glare;
In heaven for me, He has remained waiting there.
Jim Horn
Guess you would call this a couplet.
You’re here.
I can see the goodness of your café au lait skin turning mocha in the sun.
I can smell the sweat over your right brow as it slides down your cheek, mixing with the morning’s aftershave.
I hear the velvet rhythm of your baritone when your words tap dance on my timpani reciting the days events.
And I bathe in the sensation of it all.
For I know you are there.
There where you want to be.
With her and her friends.
Embracing her. Groping her.
Feeling the heat of her across your lips.
Even as you sit here with me
I feel the angst in your body
as your bones and sinew pull towards her.
Aching to get there.
And I smile,
and I nod,
and I give a soft chuckle,
hoping that my subtle flirtations
will keep you here,
just a bit longer.
I kiss you,
praying I can warm you from the inside
just as she does.
But I know I can’t.
I know you will leave
and run to her,
leaving me here,
loving her there.
copyright 2016 rapsedeblu/'raps?de blü
Just a writer who needs to write.
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