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Page One: Poetry

Original Poems by Levi Niemi
 

"Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears.
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears."
             [Wm. Wordsworth, ODE:
           Intimations of Immortality]
 
                      INTERLUDE
                         Prelude
The tears of the soul, while invisible, possess significant
mass, likely providing adequate ballast and balance,
to encourage an upright position, of sorts:
 
some being soothing tears of joy,
bathing with ecstatic vibrations
from nurturing, afectionate touch and comfort,
lasting forever.
 
Even those tinted with the sorrow of lost dreams,
opportunities or companionship, & perturbed by separateness
-once acknowledged as real-
can gradually smooth rough edges
left from pitting caused by disappointments,
slowly restoring inner surfaces.
 
                       Interlude
The soul contracts & expands in a manner similar to the heart,
but with its own natural rhythyms, strengths and timings.
Besides that, Meaning resides in the Interlude
between Experience & Language, keeping very close company,
maybe diligently struggling to escape from Deep Silence.
 
In that interlude, we each craft meanings which progressively
expand with just-noticeable-differences we privately re-cognize.
Somewhere within the soul, there may be a pool
-- possibly a Pool of Reflection -- of accumulated tears,
combined, available to cleanse away
harshnesses of living, so with listening very carefully,
healng extends ot those emotionally close, to feel an
increased measure of wholeness, for a kind of
growth-toward-incompleteness.
 
               Postlude
9By the way, with whom do you check
your soul's pressure and pulse,
in order to keep them healthy?
I once heard that 'everybody needs somebody sometime"
& I'm pretty certain that it turns out to be true!)
 
.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .    .   .   .   .
                         QUESTIONS
(a la Pablo Neruda's BOOK OF QUESTIONS)
 
Why search so hard for meaning
when each person creates it
from within their Self?
 
When we slow down enough
to notice what we really feel?
 
Which ten persons will be the
most nurturing and the
most challenging for me
for the rest of my life?
 
How often each day
does (can) humor
color my life?
 
How many one-panel
caption-less cartoons
comprise my life?
 
Who is sure to make
me smile and laugh?
 
How far is the distance from me to myself?
(A: About as long as a smile or a chuckle.)
 
Who will think out loud with me
and notice many of the absurd,
take-myself-too-seriously parts?
 
[In Neruda's BOOK OF QUESTIONS, one of his entries asks:
"How many churches are there in heaven?"]
 
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .
                   The next three items were written in April of 2007.
 
 
               If I...                                                                 I Will...
 
sing..                                                                often be off-key.
play an instrument...                                        eventually probably find the lost chord.
feel sadness...                                                  need to make friends with it.
am flooded by pain, grief or loss...                   learn to swim without drowning.
feel lost...                                                         stand still in the forest.
am here tomorrow...                                         have avoided wind gusts and "Falling Rock."
am here in August...                                         have validated the cardiologists uncertainty.
locate beauty and silence...                             be restored daily.
can laugh at myself and all that I love...          be able to go on loving it.
 
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .
 
                                    PERI-ABLATION
 
I tried to reach the authorities in Washington, DC
But they didn't answer their phone.
Their message said something about them
Being pre-occupied with some "war"..
 
So, I'm being wire-tapped today
By my personal HEARTLAND SECURITY Team
Eavesdropping on my pulse(s).
Seems like a lot of trouble, just to listened to...
 
I'm being flouroscoped today
Checking any contraband tissue hiding
In my regularly-carried baggage, but then, I
Haven't had my picture taken recently...
 
I'm being salvaged today;
Cauterized to stop circling, cycling heartbeats,
So the waves can flow from top to bottom,
Preventing a potential "Flutter" -- "Bye" effect...
 
After being in custody for only a few hours,
But in touch with the control tower at all times,
I received the "all clear" and ;landed safely.
Medical hostages are usually on temporarily detained...
 
The denied my request for implanting my
Favorite radio stations, but now I like to think
Of my heratbeat as exquisute "chamber" music
With its soothing, melodic, calm rhythm section.
 
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .
 
                                HAVING LIMITS
 
Since I have gradually realized that
I have only a limited number of breaths for the duration of my life
I have deliberately made my breaths longer and fewer and
I have noticed that it slows down my limited number of heartbeats.
 
I have only a limited number of steps to take, so
I have stepped in the direction and the pace that yields the most satisfaction.
 
I have only a limited number of occasions for affection and nurturing, so
I have been spending time with the persons who are the best for me, and v/v.
 
I have only a limited amount of time to read interesting things, so
I have concentrated on essays, biographies and poetry of writers I value.
 
I have only a limited number of meals to create and consume, so
I have been choosing menus and recipes both at home and away from home.
 
I have only a limited number of words to wrangle onto paper, so
I have been carefullyconsidering what I want to leave for my sons to know how I think.
 
I have only a limited number of words to speak, especially with my clients, so
I have been measuring carefully what purpose I really want a conversation to serve.
 
I have only a limited number of laughs to enjoy for the duration of my life, so
I have become determined to maximize things I notice that hold humor and happiness.
 
I have only a lmited number of chances to find beauty and peace and silence, so
I have fine-tuned my aesthetic radar to be as open as possible ot those elements.
 
I have only a limited number of rivers and lakes and streams to know, so
I have checked on state parks, national monuments and recreation areas to visit.
 
I have learned that silnece restores and refreshes and reassures, even though
I have a deep convistion that I will eventually have ample peace, so
I have spent daily time meditating, absorbing the quiet around me, so
I will be able to breathe more slowly and for an extended, longer, short time.
 
.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .


For other poems go to my home page at
       
           www.mentalflossmedia.com