33 Comments

Oooh, I love this poem -- it is whimsical and haunting at the same time. That might be my favorite poetic combo! Here is mine. I couldn't decide whether to break it up into stanzas or not. I went with not for now, but I'm open to feedback!

.

Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear?

.

They are born in the hidden copses

of my home and yours – under dressers,

between cushions – seeding as summer

splits its seams and we lose our pep.

The dog days plump up pillows

of dust and fur for their wee heads

until the first gasp of fall, when we

become suddenly too busy to clean

a thing. They hold their breaths

all winter but are quite safe by then,

couch and mug having

claimed us, snow slowing

every pulse. It is not until March,

when the ancestors begin flashing

their little flags from the treetops,

that our eyes clear and the broom

comes out. By then they are

winged and itchy.

We throw open the doors, clear

all lurkers for takeoff as the circle

runs home.

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The imagery in this is so rich! I read it twice and feel like I could keep rereading and find something new every time.

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I love the sound of this and the imagery of seeding and splitting seams and plumping pillows and the first gasp of fall, and...well, all of it.

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This is so rich and robust, Rebekah! The title made me smile, having had that carpenter’s song inundate our high school years. Unlike that nice pop song, your poem has a depth that demands several readings. And like Lisa noted, each reading brings something new. The last lines are wonderful: “ We throw open the doors, clear/ all lurkers for takeoff as the circle m/runs home.” I love ❤️ your poetry!

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I'm not actually sure how much sense this makes, but you said "wrong answers" so, here it is 😅

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The meaning of life is cheese

.

the melt-in-your-mouth kind

that you want to spread on everything;

the kind that oozes

from every nook and cranny;

the kind you want to savour,

even when it's a little sharp -

or, perhaps, because it is;

.

which is to say:

life is meant to be devoured,

even when we no longer have a taste for it,

even when we feel fed up with it;

and there is no need to swallow it politely.

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Ditto to what Rebekah said! As a cheese lover, I initially had that hell yeah response, too, but then the twist was such a lovely, complicating surprise.

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Oooh, I love this, A. At first, as a cheese lover, I was like "Hell yeah, the meaning of life is cheese!" But I appreciated the unexpected twist -- that life is about opening up for the unsavory, too. "And there is no need to swallow it politely" -- brilliant!

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I love ❤️ this A! the last stanza turns the poem in a wonderful way. “Which is to say/life is meant to be devoured/even when we longer have a taste for it/even when we feel fed up with it/and there is no need to swallow it politely”. This is creative genius! Thank you A! 😀

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Intriguing poem Lisa. Original sin brought God’s wrath on us all but what kind of God would do that? Didn’t He realize all of the pain and suffering that would come? Why create a world like that? No God seems a better option in which to believe. Or is it?

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who knows

I think god let us steer a little bit

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Gives me a great image of a little human sitting on big God’s lap, holding the wheel.

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All the apples Eve didn’t eat - what a fabulous thought!

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Thank you, Thomas!

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My pleasure - “a thing of beauty is a joy forever!”

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This is a poem I wrote awhile back but it relates to this prompt. I don’t think we can understand love at its greatest depth without understanding pain and suffering. I can’t say for certain why it must be this way but it seems to me those paradoxes, (at least in this world), of joy and pain can’t exist without the other. https://open.substack.com/pub/billy2r6q7/p/loneliness-91c?r=1nyjrs&utm_medium=ios

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“On waves of light and water” - lovely, and I love the image of a dance. Life really does feel like a dance in so many ways - a stepping in and then back out, moving forward and away, finding yourself compelled to respond to a rhythm you may not have chosen.

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Only Paradoxes if one believes in a “good” god or a god at all.

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This is very profound and rich, Billy. I love these lines: "Let us recognize that we are in a dance, moving away and then back again/A constant ebb and flow." Beautifully done!

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Thank you Larry. Very kind words and appreciate you taking time to read and comment!

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My pleasure Billy

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Lisa, this is wonderful! I had never thought about all of those other apples, much less why God would create a tree 🌳 of beautiful fruit and then not allow people to eat from it. Eve has been much maligned by the church all these many years and I like seeing the world through her perspective. Though the apples may be rotting, your poem is quite sweet!

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Thank you so much, friend!

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My pleasure Lisa!

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Thank you for that Lisa. Just a note; birds don't eat apple seeds but they do eat the pulp and then poop out the seeds later. There's some chemical in there connected to cyanide. I know it's just a stupid detail but I hope you would do the same for me. That's one of the reasons I publish on substack before putting something in a book, for the criticisms. Wes

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I love knowing details like that and really appreciate it - thank you, Wes!

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It is only because I admire your poetry that I said what I said. I hope you can do me the same honor.

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I absolutely will if I ever spot anything like that!

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Since this question haunts me and is often asked of me, it seemed like a good starting point.

Why Do We Suffer…

^

Suffering is an elusive phenomenon.

It’s causes, the reasons, the why, the hows?

Some blame God;

Other say it is God’s punishment,

Or God’s will.

Or the results of unjust and inequitable systems;

Or power, greed, oppression, domination,

Or collateral damage

of the wars we rage on each other

and the earth.

Some just say we are inherently evil,

powerless to change unless

we follow this or that playbook.

It has even been spoken

“we have brought it on ourselves.”

^

Hmmm.

^

Perhaps suffering just is.

In the midst of it we are called

To cast aside dogma and doctrine,

myth and harmful legend,

societal constructs and

destructive practices that

bring us to the edge.

To move beyond barriers

and simply love,

out of that love

to witness to peace,

stand for justice,

call for equity

and hold our open hands

to receive one more broken heart

Into ours.

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I love how your poem holds the question of why we suffer . . . but then turns and holds the suffering (all us suffering humans) instead. How we respond to suffering does seem quite a bit more important to me than the theological explanations we might arrive at for its existence. Thank you for making me think and feel, Larry!

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Thank you for such a kind note, Lisa. Your capacity for bringing affirmation and light to every space is remarkable!

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Thank you Lisa for sharing. May not be an answer, but let me share this post I recently wrote on these very human questions.

https://open.substack.com/pub/cieloceano/p/embracing-mystery?r=4oulbo&utm_medium=ios

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Why we suffer?

I am the Dynamics

Looking back at my thirties

When love and lust

Were very transient

The dreams of the sixties

Had effervesced away

Shown to be only fragile icons

Of ideals and hopes not to be.

We gypsied from one relationship to another

Thirsting for moments of relief

Wrapping In each other’s arms

Palliatives for our failed marriages and dreams

From the destruction of how

We thought our lives would be.

We created chaotic moments of searing emotions

That ran all directions into time

Woven into tapestries of ersatz

Expectations and beliefs, moments

To be forgotten and then remembered again

How sublime.

From those moments we will

Always have each other

Engrams that slowly changed

Some sweet moving to sweeter

Others sad evolving to bittersweet

A few that still pierce and bleed

Only pinpoints on our minds.

There was a time we

Meaning You and me when

Sometimes we walked hand in hand

Walking down continuous streets

As if dazed by escapist poppies

Not often fearing

We did not know to fear

Not often thinking

We did not know to think

We buffered each other

From some exterior pains and fears

Or so we thought.

The eight corners of our existence

Squeezed and undulated

Encroaching on our souls

We fought, we hurt each other, we parted

What we thought was love

Took a heavy toll.

The blessing is comparing to now

Realizing while walking the labyrinth

The landscape is mostly static

It is my walking the path

Where I see, I am the dynamics.

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I found the beginning and ending line so intriguing - "I am the dynamics." I really like the contrast of that definitive, declarative line with the weaving, almost floating story and introspection woven between. This is beautiful, Jim!

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