Into timelessness, poems in response to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt

“Will the day tell its secret
Before it disappears,
Becomes timeless night.”

Dejan Stojanovic, Circling: 1978-1987

---

---

These responses to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt, melting into timelessness (i.e., God, Source, Being, the Ineffable), October 10, 2018.

Kudos and thanks to Sonja Benskin Mesher, Bozhidar Pangelov (bogpan), Marta Pombo Sallés, and Anjum Wasim Dar. A very warm welcome to Bhaga and to Shaik Sana.

I’ve included links to blogs or websites. I hope you’ll visit these poets and get to know their work better. It is likely you can catch up with others via Facebook.

Enjoy! … and do join us tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt.

---

Aaaahhh…
This one I like.
This one I can enter in
With pleasure
And melt in it
Into Timelessness…
The Foreverness,
Fullness
And Sweetness
Of Spirit…

© 2018, Bhaga (Lab of Evolution, For Research on Conscious Evolution)

I enjoyed Bhaga’s spontanious response to the last prompt and am delighted to introduce this wise bilingual (French and English) blogger here. Bhaga has mixed ethnic and national origins.She grew up in West Africa and spent significant time in France. You can read more detail about origins HERE and name HERE. The MIssion Statement HERE. Lab of Evolution is a stimulating, though-provoking site and worthy of you time. It makes a soft rather unique expression in our blogosphere. / J.D.

---

Imagine

But just imagine
Your home next to mine
‎And
‎You next to me. .
‎We’ll be laying
‎Side by side
‎Under the tree,
‎Talking about
‎Dreams and our
Coming destinies,
And just like that
We’ll live forever
In our own
Timed infinity.

© 2018, Shaik Sana (eleven eleven * Everyone Dreams of Being Home *)

SHAIK SANA tells us, “I’m a medical student from State of Andhra Pradesh in India. Even though I’m committed to medicine, I have a thing for both history and literature. I like writing poems when the idea hits me.”

---

 

 

 

. the birds fly up.

it is a clear word

as water pure and bouncing

off rocks

a bird

or

messing about

remembering #

days mud building dams

fighting the tide

pushing back years

running the path

fighting for freedom

then it comes

unexpected

like

the lark

bird

having written of the hour,

move on when all is lost.

the days remain

timeless.

today, we walk the woods,

back home.

© 2018, Sonja Benskin Mesher

• sonja-benskin-mesher.net
• sonja-benskin-mesher.net
• Sonja Benskin Mesher, RCA paintings (This is her Facebook page, so you can connect with her there as well as view photographs of her colorful paintings.)
• Sonja on Twitter
• sonja-benskin-mesher.co.uk
• Sonja’s daily blog (WordPress) is HERE.

---

A true compass

(Jamie Dedes)

“Our fate like cast lead can not
to change.
Nothing can change. ”
G. Seferis

Like a desperate winter …
Do you hear – how do the branches
the trees crack
under the night snow.
Bones under your weight.
You who embraced the frozen
water to see only
your body.
Your remote body.
I spoke to you out of the law.
Sometimes.
Not always
(“forever”it is for the prophets).
How lied your experience,
which accumulate the old gods
in the blood.
The true rulers of fate.
Who else talks behind your voice?
As soon as the homes touch,
who comes with the torches?
Glare of glass, ash
of the stars you make …
And deaf loneliness like a bell
(Lead gives nothing).

I tried.
Behind the ground and the winter.
On the day of John.

© 2018, bogpan [Bozhidar Pangelov]  (bogpan – блог за авторска поезия блог за авторска поезия)

---

Marta writers: “How is it possible to make something timeless when we are finite beings and born to die, as Lana Del Rey sings? Yes, God is timeless, but so are human-made creations and memories that pass from generation to generation. Where does timelessness start? Lewis Carroll gave me an answer when Alice spoke with the Caterpillar. They were both responsible for a bit of inspiration to write this poem.”

I Tasted Spring

I tasted spring through my body,

closed my eyes and felt

that touch on my lips.

Memories of a dream revival

where everything felt so true:

My mouth on yours,

your delicious touch,

your willingness,

our timeless embrace

where nothing receded

in the open air,

in the magic moment

of timeless soulmates.

Time suddenly froze,

it turned into

Eternity…

Can you capture time?

Do you know how to freeze it?

“I can beat music”,

said Alice to the Caterpillar.

So there is time in music.

Any musical piece has indeed

frozen time forever

just as well as the other arts:

Photography, painting…

And writing…

How could I make this happen

with our delicious kiss,

the best I have ever tasted

although it was just a dream.

© 2017, Marta Pombo Sallés (Moments)

“And here is another one with the issue of time linked with cruelty.”

Time and Human Cruelty

Time
cannot be changed
or escaped.
Time is a thief,
a friend to no one
and every day is
a gift.

You cannot change time
or travel back
to reverse those things which
should never have taken place.
People killed for no reason
or
is there ever a reason
to kill other human beings?

Those people did not get lost.
When you’re lost you’ll sooner or later
find the way back.
Or perhaps not.
But you’re not erased from Earth.

Those people were killed,
just a few compared to other countries
in our world.
None of them will ever return
to the world as we know it.
They’ve just been removed too soon,
swept away by the cruelty of others:
white supremacists, Muslim terrorists …

But which governments are orchestrating
such massacres in our world?
Who’s feeding the monsters
is equally a monster.

Let’s tackle the root of the problem.
Only this way we’ll be able to say:
I am not afraid!

Time and human cruelty
are friends to no one:
Charlottesville, Barcelona, Cambrils
and many more.
The outcome is always the same.

© 2017, Marta Pombo Sallés (Moments)

---

Only My Heart Can See

every moment a tiptoe sounds

I close my eyes to see

as I feel the page

as words take shape and form

my thoughts encircle the song

inside the circle of the dance

is it the dancer or the dance?

Ah! only my soul knows

Only my heart can see-

I close my eyes to look

up from the book

at the love of purity

which is but a scent sweet

I reach out to touch

Nothingness ‘

Ah The presence in Nothingness’

Love of Eternity ‘

Close…

closer than the thorn is to the rose

growing from dust

glowing in the dust

dust to dust we rose

engulfed spirits in time

destined together to repose…

arms spread out to receive

like the scattered petals

of the beloved rose…..

my eyes on the book I close

the dancer moved bent and rose….

life went on, life goes….

far far away, forever

© 2018, Anjum Wasim Dar

---

ABOUT

• Testimonials
• Disclosure
• Facebook
• Twitter

Poet and writer, I was once columnist and the associate editor of a regional employment publication. Currently I run this site, The Poet by Day, an information hub for poets and writers. I am the managing editor of The BeZine published by The Bardo Group Beguines (originally The Bardo Group), a virtual arts collective I founded.  I am a weekly contributor to Beguine Again, a site showcasing spiritual writers.

My work is featured in a variety of publications and on sites, including: Levure littéraure, Ramingo’s Porch, Vita Brevis Literature,Compass Rose, Connotation Press, The River Journal, The Bar None Group, Salamander Cove, Second Light, I Am Not a Silent Poet, Meta / Phor(e) /Play, and California Woman.