HM #1
Poem #011, The Lord
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So of all of the poems on this list, this is the earliest written,being the 11th poem I wrote. I tried doing this fun thing with the stanzas where each even numbered stanza rhymes with the stanza above it. Also, make a wild guess what inspired this poem, go on, guess.
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A handful of coins and a short walk
And he's someone else, a man with
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Food, food not for him, but for others.
From his concrete throne, in the royal park
Fistful of food, summoning beasts of myth
Who descend from the sky, ravenous, feathery brothers.
He is Lord of Bountiful, giver of life
And the beasts know this, abiding by him.
His hand spills with mana, devoured in fear.
And the thunder roars around him, but gives no strife.
He laughs with glee at the beasts commanded on whim.
He pays no heed to the foretold ending drawing near.
His hand delves into the cornucopia, and
It brings forth nothing. He sighs to see
His loyal beasts depart him, back to their origins
So his fantasy and his purchased crackers come to an end.
City cars roar around him; sad, but he will always be
A Lord in his mind, and in reality, Lord of the Pigeons.
HM #2
Poem #031, Zephyr
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This is definitely the shortest of the poems in this email, and I'm sorry and I can't easily share it in its original written format, because it is a shape poem, and the words twist and twirl on gusts of wind. Maybe I can get a picture out...
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The sun is hot, but I'm cooled by the wind.
I've found some respite in this natural friend.
Between zephyr and shade, it is clear to see,
That a Creator exists, and in small ways loves me.
HM#3
Poem #032, Eve
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This is one of the only overtly religious poems I've written so far, and happy at how it turned out. Consider it an ode to the first woman.
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He partook that man might be,
A choice made in necessity.
But she was first to eat of the tree,
First to trade perfection for duality
Said she:
"It is better to suffer and toil that we
May know good from evil and bound from free."
And I agree.
I am who I am because you were beguiled.
May you hear the thanks of this far-distant child.
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And now, we move on to my top five favorites from my days at the CTM.
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#5
Poem #036, Suitcases
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This is the second to last poem I wrote before leaving the CTM. I don't think I realized it at that point, but the impending labor of packing up all of my things most certainly influenced the poem. Make note at how each line is moved over a slight bit, resetting in the middle, as if to mimic two suitcases being filled.
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In his hands, his family and friends
Too heavy he finds, he must leave them behind
He packs instead, his equanimous head
Amidst his clothes, he packs what he knows
In back compartment, words his heart meant
Still more to do, he moves on to suitcase two
He fills up the second, with the ideas he's reckoned
And on top of these, go his hopes and his dreams
His skills and ambitions, fears and inhibitions
Heart and soul, bottles and bottles of love untold
With things all packed, he discovered the fact
It all weighs the most, moving to a new post
#4
Poem #020, Ice Cream Cone
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This is definitely one of the happier poems I wrote while I initially struggled at the CTM, and I think it has a good message. I'll stop patting myself on the back now.
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If ever I have an ice cream cone
As I bask in summer's beating warm,
I'd be content to eat at a pace of my own
As my treat melts and runs down my arm.
I'd rather be sticky.
I'd rather be carefree.
I won't let the circumstance rush me
Into trying to make the most of it all
When what I need isn't everything, just something small.
#3
Poem #026, Lock & Chain (The Orchid)
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My indescisive self ended up giving this one two titles, because why not? I wrote it with a handful of people in mind whom I promised I wouldn't change too much while I'm gone. I'll grow, but I'll be the same me. And i won't be perfect either, so don't you worry.
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This lock and chain rests near to my heart,
A promise to remain who I am while apart.
I will remain an orchid of purples, pinks, and blues,
And though I may grow taller, I'll retain my hues.
This lock and chain is a gift dear to me,
Received as a memento of times that used to be.
And though it may never truly be that those times come again,
The promise I'm keeping helps absolve some of the pain.
I'm always an orchid of blues,pinks, and purples.
As the storm within rages, I'm granted a few lulls.
I'm kneeling and praying in that gentler rain,
For strength to continue as I bear lock and chain.
I will never be an orchid of pure white and valor,
But I'm blue, purple, and pink, so I'll shine in my color.
I'll be who I am, and I will grow how I can,
And I'll be true to myself, what a marvelous plan.
I am who I am.
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| Naomi painted this picture to go along with the poem. |
#2
Poem #013, Blossom
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So, yeah, turns out my favorite poems are the really long ones. It's all cool though. I wrote this poem about insecurities we have as we grow and learn new things about ourselves that may be in conflict with what we thought we knew about ourselves. The message is simple: Don't fight your growth and changes, and don't hold them too close either. Just let it happen.
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In a clandestine excursion to a realm unexplored
You gave yourself up, and in return found more.
A piece of your soul hidden deep and far away
And for better or worse, in light it would now stay.
You can't let go of it,
So you hold on to it.
And upon your return, secret to all but a few
Your soul writhes 'neath your skin, twisted blossom anew.
And the time draws forth, thought burning your heart
When places you'll go where you and blossom must part.
But you can't let go of it,
So you still hold on to it.
You bury it deep, for a span lasting years
And you walk as you did once, not unlike your peers.
Blossom longs to breathe, burst forth, be free;
It cannot happen now, but in time we will see.
You can't let go of it,
So you hold on to it.
The seasons are shifting, blossom rising in Spring
And because of your agency, the choice is the thing.
Will the world you inhabit tear asunder the piece
Or will it rage forth, disregarding disparity?
You can't let go of it, this you see,
And you hold on, you let it free...
In this setting it free, away you are swept
Over the fence into a land more unkempt
Where blossom is beautiful, harmonious, whole
Yet in your heart you know this isn't end all.
You'll never let go of it,
Yet you shan't hold onto it.
Because morning eventually comes, when disparity ceases
And blossom guides you to fence; the tension eases.
Back from whence you came, at last at peace
Because the piece is part of the whole, content to be.
Of course you can't let it go,
But loose your grip, and let it follow.
#1
Poem #014, The Light in the Dark: A Love Song (full version)
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So, some of you may have been privy to a poem I wrote a year or so ago called The Light in the Dark: A Love Song that I wrote for use in my novel project Metagenesis. I showed it to my roommates at the CTM, and they urged me to expand it from a single verse into a full song. So, I wrote two more verses and a bridge. Enjoy.
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If crying didn't help our souls,
no one would ever cry.
If letting go was only painful,
there would be no goodbye.
If hurting didn't make us stronger,
no one would ever hurt.
If trials didn't have their value,
we'd never know our worth.
The sheets of rain feed the flowers.
From the dark the days come anew.
And know that in our our times of sorrow,
is when I most love you.
If labor didn't bear its fruits,
no one would ever toil.
If conflicts didn't yield a victor,
to whom would go the spoils?
Was ever there a violent typhoon,
without a peaceful eye?
There needs be a dark firmament,
to view the starry sky.
After the death arrives rebirth.
Amidst the lies emerges truth.
And I will remind you at your worst,
Just how much I love you.
In sickness and health
Please remember I love you.
In life and in death
Please remember I love you.
And if at times we forget
Still know that I love you.
I love you.
Where without the whipping cold,
is joy in fire's heat?
Had we not power to choose the bitter,
how could we know the sweet?
If wounds did not enhance our wisdom,
no one would ever bleed.
Iflife weren't meant for struggle and growth,
our life we would not need.
Pain and pleasure, night and day.
Duality and pairs of two.
And with my dying breath I'll say:
"Forever, I love you."
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That'll do it for now. This took a longer time to type out that I expected... If anyone who wanted this didn't get it initially, I'm sorry. to those who do receive it, feel no shame in forwarding it to others. I'm only one human, after all. Also, to the readers of my weekly report, I'll likely be condensing this week and the next into one email given that I've been sitting in a lan house for almost 90 minutes now. Tchau for now!
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- Elder Jeremy Cannon
