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Circles

I am not ambitious
So rest easy
I only speak of survival
But then survival is an ambition
To reach a comfort zone
And stay there
Until boredom sets in
Which brings me back to ambition
What circles we live in

true - circles are such comfortable things though.

Cate wrote: true - circles are such comfortable things though.

I suspect that is because we know that we will always end up back where we started from ! Comforting but not very exciting

Yorkshire Lad writes:

What circles we live in

I enjoyed your poem Yorkshire Lad.

And then this came to mind…

Again and again
we glide along
the circles graceful turn,
circling round and round
days that fall into night,
coming round in the end,
in praise of the constant
rhythmic certainty
of again and again.

Thanks for the inspiration.

carm wrote:Yorkshire Lad writes:

What circles we live in

I enjoyed your poem Yorkshire Lad.

And then this came to mind…

Again and again
we glide along
the circles graceful turn,
circling round and round
days that fall into night,
coming round in the end,
in praise of the constant
rhythmic certainty
of again and again.

Thanks for the inspiration.

What a lovely positive message your words give to us all carm . I just keep reading them and it makes me grateful of "the constant rythmic certainty of again and again " and how precious life is
YL

Beautiful, both of your poems, YL and carm.

I loved the plain-spoken truth and irony in yours, YL, and the gracefulness and images of yours, carm. You truly were inspired by YL's concept and words. As I read it, I was looking for its author to be at the end. When I looked back, I realized that you weren't inspired to post it, you were inspired and wrote it. They both hold equal truths. Yours would make a wonderful Sufi-inspired dance for "Dances of International Peace," carm.

Well done, both of you.


~ Lizzy

Yorkshire Lad writes:

…and it makes me grateful of "the constant rhythmic certainty of again and again " and how precious life is

YL, your words (how precious life is) led me to this…

Glued like honey
to each and every hour
we loiter amid
life’s familiar spaces
where history continuously
breathes backwards,
forwards, back again
and away…

As we continue whirling
circular and whole
in simple incremental rhythms
amid the steadfast inertia
of time’s inevitable
‘like clockwork’ return,
we cozy up to the
stability of things
and to our own
marked signatures,
grounded to the everyday.

As we glide along
the circle’s graceful turn,
we come round in the end,
realizing just how precious
life is, and we begin to
appreciate, so much more,
its cyclical return.

.....

Thanks for your kind words Yorkshire Lad and Lizzytish.

.....

Yorkshire Lad, have you thought about adding a second verse to your poem?

Yorkshire Lad writes:

I am not ambitious
So rest easy
I only speak of survival
But then survival is an ambition
To reach a comfort zone
And stay there
Until boredom sets in
Which brings me back to ambition
What circles we live in

carm wrote:Yorkshire Lad, have you thought about adding a second verse to your poem?

My quill is quivering as I post . Watch this space ! "But for now I am cozying up to the stability of things amid steadfast inertia grounded to the everyday "
Wonderful descriptive words if I may say so carm

Yorkshire Lad writes:

My quill is quivering as I post . Watch this space !

.....

carm wrote:Yorkshire Lad, have you thought about adding a second verse to your poem?

Yorkshire Lad writes:

I am not ambitious
So rest easy
I only speak of survival
But then survival is an ambition
To reach a comfort zone
And stay there
Until boredom sets in
Which brings me back to ambition
What circles we live in

Carm
I have tried to write a second verse that brings joy and happiness to the poem but my words always end up being negative and sorrowful and I do not want it to be . I find it strange how the poem was meant to be a message of hope and now looks like turning out to be a message of despair if I am not careful . What does that say as to the state of my mind and my view of the world . I will not let this happen and I am determined to deliver a positive message with the second and any consequent verses . Patience is a virtue they say !!
YL

Yorkshire Lad writes:

I have tried to write a second verse that brings joy and happiness to the poem but my words always end up being negative and sorrowful and I do not want it to be . I find it strange how the poem was meant to be a message of hope and now looks like turning out to be a message of despair if I am not careful . What does that say as to the state of my mind and my view of the world . I will not let this happen and I am determined to deliver a positive message with the second and any consequent verses . Patience is a virtue they say !!

Yorkshire Lad, maybe you need to communicate the negative, the sorrow, and perhaps once expressed, the poem will come round in its end and sing a message of hope…in your determination to deliver it as such!

I am not rebellious
So rest easy
I only speak of equality
But then equality is an ambition
To reach equanimity
And stay there
Until prejudice sets in
Which brings me back to ambition
What daydreams we live in

Yorkshire Lad, I was trying desperately to get caught up in the ease of a daydream today, but my mind kept wandering back to this thread…

Thanks for posting this additional verse…

I am not rebellious
So rest easy
I only speak of equality
But then equality is an ambition
To reach equanimity
And stay there
Until prejudice sets in
Which brings me back to ambition
What daydreams we live in

carm wrote:Yorkshire Lad, I was trying desperately to get caught up in the ease of a daydream

Daydreams
Pockets of time in lifes event
Brief moments with no content

Pockets of time that represent
Brief moments to be content

Yorkshire Lad writes:

Daydreams
Pockets of time in lifes event
Brief moments with no content

Pockets of time that represent
Brief moments to be content

.....

When we are no longer content
to plod along the beaten paths -
we can go the way of the daydream
and linger there for awhile, tinkering
around an idea or an image, engaging
in thoughts courted by musings on
everything from writing and creativity
to dubious flights of fancy, wherein
we find ourselves, undeniably at ease.

And oh, if we could only but memorize
the content of each daydream and its
beautiful formula, whose potential utility
assists melancholy to mysteriously begin its lift.