Inspired by Pearl Jam's "Education"
Ms. Haiku
Posts: 7,265
A woman climbs between rocks small and big.
Each breath a gift wrapped in the full moon's light
given by the ocean. She sees the waves'
inquiries and agrees to move forward.
She heard the stories from mothers and friends.
She heard where the earth is a soft rug
for bruised feet, and where it is broken glass.
She heard the mist chooses to encourage.
She rests to touch the petal of one rose.
Her hunger satisfied by the leaves' scent.
She communicates with other mountains
using the warm wind as her messenger.
The moon, the earth, and ocean are women.
Feel what they know as they rotate their hips.
Each breath a gift wrapped in the full moon's light
given by the ocean. She sees the waves'
inquiries and agrees to move forward.
She heard the stories from mothers and friends.
She heard where the earth is a soft rug
for bruised feet, and where it is broken glass.
She heard the mist chooses to encourage.
She rests to touch the petal of one rose.
Her hunger satisfied by the leaves' scent.
She communicates with other mountains
using the warm wind as her messenger.
The moon, the earth, and ocean are women.
Feel what they know as they rotate their hips.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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The sea is calm tonight.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast, the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
but memories...they eat me
I've seen it all before,...
bring it on cause I'm no victim.
-Ghost
My poem was more like the song's words in earlier drafts, but I basically wrote my poem around my last two lines. The education discussed here is more of a spatial intelligence that is innate. We could get so much information if we knew how to hear what the wind says, or could just "read" and "learn" from forms that are not human. The ocean and moon have rhythms, and the earth has seasons, and the blood pumps in our veins. It's all about rhythm and being so in sync with what's around to understand more that's necessary.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird