Knowable Poems | Examples

Words on the Wing

Words like butterflies take wings, 
As we open our mouths to sing. 
Voices soft or loud and clear, 
Sharing thoughts for all to hear.

Choose your words with gentle care, 
Like picking flowers sweet and fair. 
Speak with kindness, truth, and grace, 
Light-up smiles on every face.

Take a breath before you start, 
Let the words flow from your heart. 
Enunciate each syllable, 
Make your meaning knowable.

Listen first, then have your say, 
Take turns in a friendly way. 
Pitch your voice to soothe the ear, 
Neither shouty nor unclear.

Paint pictures with your phrases bright, 
Bringing stories to light. 
Ask questions, seek to understand, 
Building bridges across the land.

Speaking is a wondrous art, 
Connecting mind to mind and heart to heart. 
So raise your voice and play your part, 
Let your words make a brand new start.

Avadhuta Gita Chapter 1, verse 1

” Through the grace of God alone, the desire for nonduality arises in wise men to save them from great fear.”

{Nonduality - monistic Consciousness, in which the knower, knowledge, and knowable - soul and God - become one; the highest realization of Divinity.

Fear - The word "fear" includes also such states of mind as insecurity, despair, and grief, all of which arise from a consciousness of oneself as limited and separate from others and which therefore can be dispelled only by realizing oneself as the All.}

_______________________

ignorance is the cause of fear
mistaken that we are body-mind
clinging to objects we hold dear
floundering about as do the blind

freedom within is near at hand
yet to invoke the boons of grace
we must be still to understand
that God holds us in close embrace

Dimension

Our dimension 
is one of constant change

realization almost immediately
gone, at the point of capture

all we know is in retrospect -- 

floating on a buoyancy of grace,
faith, a divine contract -- 
written in seasons
the journeys of stars

feelings the truth we call life:
weeps and joys of nature~
God, the knowable and unknowable,
translator and ever greater mystery….

Untitled

I was closer to my father
or so I thought.
But I now
miss my mother more,
and the only explanation I have
is he was more knowable
and she more vast.

(12/21/21, first published in my sixth book OUT OF TIME OUT OF MIND, 2022)

The Creator

Why do I create?
The simple answer involves
the complex mystery of 
creation~ the more knowable answer
is, I am lonely...needing something,
someone outside of myself
to bring back in, to hold close for to cherish
and love.

I would not write a word, 
dabble a blotch, were my hunger entirely satisfied 
by the works of others; were all my questions
answered and my dreams already portrayed into infinity – 

I create because I have a sense of loss, of being
incomplete – I create because
I am dissatisfied with the status quo. 
I create not to feel a sheep-driven-reactionary,
and more a green in God's garden of unlimited potential, 
salivating for moments of sensed eternal blossoming... 

The novice writes a poem,
while the poet writes poetry. The painter only
paints, while the artist creates an image, that lives
immortal in the realms of observation. And I create
for all these reasons – and, most of all~ those
shared joys I have not found outside the process.

We Are Planet X

Beyond every picture,
every panoramic or keyhole view,
miniature or mural,
beyond the frame of perception
or the corners of our eyes
beyond the focus, and the seeable distance
the great known fades into otherness.

There’s millions of pictures of our world
all captured through
the narrow lens of the expected,
all spied through a thousand filters of knowable;
the acceptable.

Just out of the picture, Planet X abides.
A place forever beyond our frames of reference,
an alien landscape of a greater reality,

it could be heaven; it could be hell,
it could be heaven; it could be hell,
for us now, it is Planet X;
a world that will always take on a shape
that the mind gives it.

The Pit

A feral battle between two starving men
That rages for ages with no knowable end. 

Deep in the pit, exchange blow for blow
No escape, never free, forever held down below.   

Brown bloodied rags hang off their skin
A visceral clash deep, deep therein. 

Deep beetled brow looks rabidly down
Into hopeful pure eyes, neither making a sound

The silent exchange of resolve and of blood. 
None else exists but man's will and the mud. 

Neither will die no matter the force. 
The fate of the men rotate in due course. 

There is nothing else after, and was nothing before.
One wins a battle but neither wins the war. 

The upper hand depends on the day. 
A layer of flesh is with what all men pay. 

One man breathes red and has ruby’s for eyes. 
The other fights tempered with measured bled tries.

Pure savage ferocity against patience and poise
With the thrashing and crashing, only grit makes a noise. 

From just the right angle they both look the same. 
But the battle yet rages, they strangle for his name.

Learn To Dance

I thought I knew it all about you.
I thought love was the comfort of holding familiar hands.
I finished your sentences.
I knew what you were going to say.
I knew what you liked, did not like as well.
But, as a mutual know-all pair, we became bored. 
Everything was so predictable. 
We became pair of loafers.
We had shut the door on discovery and curiosity.
The joy and exhilaration of the quest
to find out more about each other had withered. 
The familiarity we once craved to build our love
had unknowingly led to love languishing
in knowable surfeit.
Love had stalled, gone cold and stale.
It takes two to tango,
better still, 
two to learn to dance.

Spring Dog and Falling Eagle

Spring Dog,
like any terrorist
I've ever not quite met,
not seen eye to eye,
nor found knowable,
nor fathomable,

Out to see the world
and form colonies
to feed his cancered Ego,

Teaches his hungry disciples
that success
goes to those who push
most resiliently.

I work against fear
we are heading for a confrontation,
where Earth must win
so Spring Dog must
inevitably
unpopulate.

Earth's journey
away from terror
and toward compassion
experiences intelligently designed success
with those who cooperatively pull
toward nutritious multicultural resonance.

Spring Dog
dismisses EarthMothers
as too weak
and poor in Spirit,

Not yet realizing
His poor in Spirit
is also Falling Eagle's
rich in cooperative MotheringNature.

Summer Otter
mediates between these ways of seeing
slippery slopes toward owning Earth
encourage Spring Dogs
to treat EarthTribes,
human 
and OtherWise,
as natural
unspirited,
secular resources,
owned domestic elements for harvesting,
property to feed
and heat
his Winter Hawk nest
of capital-infestment

Further fueling Falling Eagles
to pull full-flight 
toward more cooperative reinvestment.

Wheelchair Chariots

Wheelchairs
Chariots in Heaven

I tell you now in earnest, 
there is a secret behind all things, 
real and unreal, 
set and unset, 
tangible...
believable...
and knowable, 
to your core. 

The practice of driving a chair, 
here where people stair, 
is only for the flair of the air, 
that will blow around and through
your hair...
high up in the clouds, 
touching the sky, 
the corona, 
the day, 
the night...
and forever.

Messages to the stars, 
sight-seeing and wonder, 
the golden cart will fly free, 
as there will be no need 
for anything at all, 
to call upon the Lord, 
and know He is there, 
to hold us close...
here, and where
the adventure goes, 
or we are sent.

Riverrocks and Rain

Boulders,
split wide open,
with rounded river-shaped edges,
greet the rain,
their rushing Creator,
everyday re-creating

Fossils
witnessing time's solidarity
between flowing rivers
and boldly shaped
deforming compassion
for lowest sedated intent,
immortal purposes of flow
yet majestically Progenitive

Transparently vulnerable icons,
open seasons of geologically irrational
time invested
in transporting communion

Like a flowing poem,
a rain-drenched story
voicing well-told resonance

Yet compassion longs to understand
why this structure
and our causal flow
have not only found each other
but have remained together
to this recreating end.

Like river rocks and rain,
perhaps we have no knowable choice
other than acclimating time's solidarity
of righteous flow and unliberated shape,
spirit representing nature,
relationship suggesting dynamic autonomy becoming
interdependence unveiling healthy equity
wisdom seeking formed understanding
rain shaped river rocks.

Imaginatively Conceived

character
language
    episodes
    of
    reminicences
of
imaginative
validity,   
     a new
     dimension
envisioned
     things
     not ideas-
knowable
world,
    things in
    the particular
that
flutter
     into life..
..awhile

inspired by WC W epic Paterson

Complex Number Psychology

My thoughts of you, and yours of me,
Can be portrayed mathematically:
To sum up every complex trait
We factorize and integrate,
And add imaginary parts
To make the vectors fit our charts.

Your thoughts of me, and mine of you,
Look reckless from a polar view:
The truly knowable and real
Are overwhelmed by how we feel,
Since we forget each magnitude
Is through an unseen angle skewed.

Knowable Unknowns

Do you know, static clocks move faster than moving clocks?

Do you know, silence is not the best response to a fool?

Do you know, a man is also a woman?

Do you know, snakes don't  like to bite?

Do you know, monkeys hate banana trees?

Did you know Africans loved being colonised?

But do you know, every African is autonomous by nature?

Did you know, freedom is not free at all?

I'm  sure you know that blood is ticker than water.

But do you know love is bloodier than blood?


Written October 30th, 2018.

Christmas

Cheerfully relaxing
Happy and content
Resting from it all
I am here - I am not, I am
Surrendering, I become it all
Timeless and eternal
Mysterious but knowable
Always
Speaking words of
Silence


And a Merry Christmass to you all.



A brand spankingly new poem for a while. I've been busy with health matters, both my wife and I(I am still waiting for my operation - 3 months after my pre-op-assessment), and finally my poetry. I've been putting them in order for the two Kindle books of poetry I have on offer:- Words Four You & Crack or Christ, the Words For you is a collection poems with only 4 lines, and Crack or Christ which contains 50 mouth watering poems of which there are some deep poems, and I mean deep !My Authors page follows.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Lenny-gazbowski/e/B01MRJYHRO/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1481354970&sr=1-2-ent

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