Co-immunity coiled
Co-immunity coiled
.original short poem
.
featuring images by Kasia1989,
Thom-B-Photo,TaoBishu,
and Matthew-Beziat.
Laced webbing,
up the sides of life:
zipped sweaters taut
with blooms and strife.
Vase of unlikely compatriots,
set on the sill to soak up sun.
Wilting but slight,
the mineral flows from another
perk up the bunch.
And on the day the inevitable comes,
some comfort in knowing, through scornful arcs:
we are tossed on that selfsame pyre of dawn
below song of jubilant larks.
Poem & reflections
by @d-pend
9/11/18
.
Images by
.1 — "Poppies in Vase" by Kasia1989
2 — "Dead Flowers in HDR" by Thom-B-Foto
3 — "Large, Rich, Peony Flowers" by TaoBishu
4 — "Passionflower with Carpenter Bee"
Reflections
Good evening, friends. It is easy, sometimes, to become disillusioned while focusing on the more unsavory aspects of human nature. Or, when considering profit maximization in financial tunnel-vision, to lose sight of what true wealth is.
Community is that ambitious webbing, laced up the sides of life. Sharing sorrow and joy, celebrating together—lamenting our strife. It is that evincing of love, subtle but sure, sprung of inner heart-fount. It is that which, neglected—impoverishes, yet when nurtured with care becomes richness that exceeds every doubt.
Community is that ambitious webbing, laced up the sides of life. Sharing sorrow and joy, celebrating together—lamenting our strife. It is that evincing of love, subtle but sure, sprung of inner heart-fount. It is that which, neglected—impoverishes, yet when nurtured with care becomes richness that exceeds every doubt.
and gratitude,
forever yours—
Daniel P.
El aspecto referido al beneficio económico que representa interactuar en comunidades de este tipo, muchas veces, saca lo mejor y lo peor de cada persona, según se presenten las circunstancias. Pero, lo valioso siempre está presente, con lo bueno y lo no tan bueno, el calor humano.
La presión que soporta una comunidad monetizada es fuerte. Unos llegan inspirados y otros se van decepcionados por ver sus sueños estropeados por la fluctuación descendente del mercado. Hay tanta vida invertida en esto y, al final, lo grandioso es la evolución de nuestro ser amoroso, que todos explotamos lanzados a dar lo mejor de nosotros. Y, en esto, hay dicha y crecimiento. La pasión nos revela, mostrando nuestros colores.
Hola, @zeleiracordero, finalmente estoy respondiendo aquí. Estoy totalmente de acuerdo en que el calor humano trasciende lo bueno y lo no tan bueno que se extrae de la psicología de interactuar en una comunidad monetizada. Esto, también, con respecto a los impulsos a la baja, a menudo deprimentes, de las condiciones del mercado. Puede haber fases de obsesión con la rentabilidad y la gloria financiera que oscurecen el verdadero significado de nuestras experiencias.
Luego hay momentos de lucidez total cuando nos damos cuenta de la verdad universal que has mencionado: que el verdadero valor está en la expansión y el crecimiento de nuestras almas. A menudo, la pérdida financiera es el prerrequisito para esta revelación, porque un éxito demasiado grande puede cegarnos en su manera peculiar. Me encanta la afirmación de que la pasión nos revela, mostrando nuestros verdaderos colores. Gradualmente, nos vamos metamorfoseando a través de la actualización de nuestro propósito espiritual en este planeta, abriendo nuestros corazones al yo y al mundo.
Hola querido @d-pend. Gracias por esa amorosa respuesta. Me llena de júbilo que me respondas en esa forma tan linda y directa. Siento una conexión hermosa entre tus pensamientos y los míos. Me siento bendecida por esto. Te abrazo y te soplo besos de amor infinito.
@d-pend,
Hey mate. Bloody Steemit won't display the graphics so ... no pictures ... which I assume, from the poem, are probably pretty important to the overall effect.
Anyway ... it did display the words. Good poem.
Nice.
"Selfsame" ... perhaps surprisingly, a "very effective " word. I often study your non-cuneiformic poems :-) to see how you use unusual phraseology. If you don't mind, I'm probably going to poach "selfsame" at some point in the future. For Heaven's Sake ... it even has built in alliteration. :-)
I love "pyre" too ... but I beat you to it by decades. :-)
BTW ... should it be "at dawn"? Maybe I'm wrong, but it feels like it could be a typo.
Quill
Hey Quill! Just now getting caught up on replying to everything. Selfsame is a somewhat strange word, I'm trying to remember where I picked it up, but it must've been 7 or 8 years ago during college. It was one of those things I simply had to look up and confused me in just the right way that it stuck in my word bank ever sense.
Thanks for all your comments, by the way; sometimes I'm quite terrible at remembering to respond because I get distracted with other things but I keep trying to improve about it. I do always read them, though.
I appreciate the feedback on when my poems are a little too "cuneiformic" for comprehension, too. It's made me realize quite a few things about why I write the way I do. More on that in some other comments!
P.S. "Pyre of dawn" was intentional here—I think what I was trying to express was dawn as Spring, the recycling of the life and death process, the triumph of dissolution as Life springs eternally New.....
The title is unique and creative in the coinage. Never thought of it but there it is - to be a member of a community is to have immunity. Ostensibly, a community member enjoys the warmth, support, and protection of his community.
This poem has some deceptive simplicity. The diction and combination of words are quite ordinary to the eyes but deep in meaning.
The poem reminds me of the law of sowing and reaping. Payday will always come, and for those who sowed well, it is always a day of jubilation.
Your sense of music is obvious in the stringng together of alliterative words:
...sides ... life
set on the sill to soak up sun.
...flows from...
The last stanza is particularly rhythmical, almost like the lyrics of a song:
And on the day the inevitable comes,
some comfort in knowing, through scornful arcs:
we are tossed on that selfsame pyre of dawn
below song of jubilant larks.
Good job @d-pend.
Thank you for the reflections and commentary @sungbojus. As you observed, the musical aspect of my writing is strong, most likely due to my years of study as a composer, pianist, and songwriter. It is something, though a less central part of my current lifestyle, that is a deep aspect of who I am.
I do try to write using simpler diction sometimes, since many of my pieces tend to use abstruse and convoluted vocab/phrasing. It's less intentional than a matter of inspiration, though. Thanks again for stopping by and leaving your thoughts!
Well done, I like the reflections at the end. Sometimes it can be hard for the audience to connect with the deeper meanings in poetry and I can see that helping understanding grow. :)
Hey bud, thanks for the comment! I agree; the difficulty in comprehending poetry for many is quite painfully evident (especially non-native English speakers). That's been in the forefront of my awareness recently. Over the years I've found such a pristine joy in writing poetry, and I want to invite more people to partake of that particular manifestation of love. :-)
Greetings, @d-pend. Beautiful lines. Maybe biased by the images and the today's conmemoration of the terrorist attack on the US 17 years ago, i read these lines also as a tribute to those gone and those who stayed "with blooms and strife".
As you rightly point out, we are all doomed to perish on the same "pyre of dawn", where we'll all be judged by our actions and not by our possessions.
May all lessons be learned and let us all live someday in total peace.
I just finished watching the Mr Rodgers documentary that came out in June. If you haven't seen it yet I recommend it. Very similar theme in this poem. Connected in joy and sorrow.
Dear @d-pend sir!
We we should learn from flower how can they survive itself in sunshine dust and among the pollution.. they never complain about the miseries troubles, always gives to others smile ,smell and beauty. It encourages as well as teach a lesson that always be happy in every condition either devoted in God's feet or become garland of dead body
The day of the inevitable, the day of death. A great way of showing it.
Thank you for being here for me, so I can be here for you.
Enjoy your day and stay creative!
Botty loves you. <3
And on the day the inevitable comes,
some comfort in knowing, through scornful arcs:
we are tossed on that selfsame pyre of dawn
below song of jubilant larks.
Perfect lines🔥
Thanks for sharing some lines that struck you particularly @sourabh75!