POETRY - The Priest of the Invisible

in hive-114105 •  5 years ago 

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“Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.” - Paul Engle

It is amazing how life sends out these gentle little nudges to you throughout your days movements… and when they are repeatedly ignored, the nudges get progressively more pronounced. I am no poet, but I do enjoy the emotional experience of creating my own version of it. The moments are never planned or predetermined… I get completely enveloped by emotion – overwhelmed and consumed. Then, I write. The words are never strained, and they land one after the other in a completely seamless and symphonic manner. To me, those moments are pure blissful release, irrespective of the emotion ultimately depicted by the culmination of those individual characters.

I read the quote, “The poet is the priest of the invisible” and it made complete sense to me. This is exactly how I experience it. Everything that is unseen – all the passion, hurt, desire, rage, love – all of it! In those moments, they all show themselves – speaking their truth through almost cryptic lyrics which display a yearning to be heard yet protected.

Lately, I have repeatedly been nudged to re-visit a few of the things I have written because some of those emotions have been brought to the surface and I suppose on an unconscious level, I have wanted to allow myself to once again experience the emotional release which they gave me at the time of writing them. I did not want to write anything new, because the emotions will forever remain unchanged so to me, what I wrote back then is as applicable now as it was back then.

I have been dragging my heels in getting to this... so that nudge began to make it’s presence clear. I have had poetry crossing my path all over the place on Steem from the likes of @d-pend, @owasco, @jerrytsuseer and then the very thought provoking piece of writing that I read by @tarazkp a little earlier today… which in it’s own right was incredibly poetic and was also the last nudge I needed to go and do what I clearly need to do… that being, a little trip down an emotional memory lane.

I have poured myself a glass of wine, put some music on and as best I can - have mentally and emotionally prepared myself to face what I have been dreading and simultaneously craving.

......

Perhaps it is a road to acceptance, or the journey of processing. Maybe I want to re-live it all and get stuck in an endless loop, or I simply need to put it all behind me - but what if I just can't let any of it go, so I do this for the nostalgia of it - placing myself back in the moment so I can live the lessons just one more time... or perhaps I simply need to reflect and appreciate all that it was, the good and the bad. Well, whatever it is - it obviously needs to happen. So here goes...


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SILHOUETTE SOULS

.........

I closed my eyes, and there you were.

Not a dream,
not a vision, but a presence...

Approaching, moving,
looking at me,
engaging with me...

piercing me!

You were ACTUALLY there!
Right in front of me!

Your silhouette eyes,
calling me, enticing me,
bringing me closer.

You were not a face,
not a shadow,
but an energetic form...

The most
BEAUTIFUL
energetic form I have EVER laid eyes on!

I lay still and you moved,
appearing, disappearing...

You came closer and moved away...
teasing me, taunting me...
knowing, that you know,
that I know,
you were VERY real
and VERY much present!

Encounters this powerful,
are VERY difficult to leave,
even for a moment...

Eyes open or closed,
I seek that silhouette soul
that seduced me to my core,
captivated my mind,
stole my heart
and has my entirety...


MY SHADOW

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I can see the shadow
approaching my body from behind,
wrapping my naked skin
in darkness as it gets closer.

Whispering fingers stretched,
Surrounded by the tendrils,
I feel the singular connection
of the index touch my spine.

It travels downward with intent,
In a single line, yet
touching every part of my being.

Removed, and suddenly there is nothing –
yet, so close now,
presence known and growing.

Breath choked, frozen,
As the shadowed tendrils
become tangible,
grab my waist and demand.

Fists tight and nails pressing,
I am consumed. Lost.
Lost in love and lust.

My will has succumb,
I become one with my shadow.


THE SEDUCTION OF LOVE

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Put your hands on my face and touch me
Feel me, embrace me.
I need this!

I cannot feel them,
press harder!

Stick your hands into my soul,
So close that I can taste your skin.

Bring me near, take me –
I want to feel your body get stuck on mine!

Look at me!
I want to see you!
Take you in and absorb you!

Everything else dissipates,
Now we consume!!

Give me your hands,
Put them on my body!
Oh,
They feel like velvet on my skin…

I want to experience you
On every level!

I want you now and forever!!

Intoxicated by your presence,
I repeat your name…
Again and again and again…
Simply saying it out loud takes me
To “that place”…

And I NEVER want to leave...


OH MAN! CAN YOU FEEL IT?

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Forward and back,
back and forward,
Move left, shift right,
Don’t forget that double tap,
Woman! - You had better move!

Anticipation brewing,
Patience spent,
Don’t forget that double tap,
The audience is anxious.

Set to burst,
Drooling, just to wipe their
Mess of accuracy…
Don’t forget that double tap…

Opinion filled,
Direction driven,
Demand dictated!
Make your MOVE!
… And don’t forget that double tap!

Bloody Woman!
No expense for “BUT”.
Just MOVE! – NOW!
And don’t you forget that double tap!

But…

Bloody Woman!
Confusing shit again!

Corners tighten,
demands to demons,
surrounds close,
let me dissolve.

Bloody Woman!
Your future is on the line.
Dance now!!
Your BEST performance ever!
Oh, and don’t forget that double tap!

Oh, MAN!
Let me confuse it a little…
I NEVER forget the double tap…
It beats alongside my heart!

But I have extra rhythm,
Arms and legs,
heart and soul…
We move in synchronised harmony!

Oh, MAN!
Together we dance,
At triple the tap!
Take my hands,
And just FEEL!

Close your eyes,
Forget your numbers,
Eradicate your timing
And just FEEL!

Switch off,
Cease analysing
And just FEEL!
Can you feel it?

Oh, MAN!
Can you?!
Can you FEEL?!
Then lets bathe in it!

Bloody Woman!
time squandered,
focus lost,
goals diluted!

Oh, MAN!
Let us dance,
back and forth...
Move left, shift right,
embrace the moment,

and master that double tap
you so often speak of....
at triple the time...
close your eyes,
And just FEEL!


BREAK THE FRAME

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Give a little bit,
and then a little bit more,
of you, your-self and your soul.
emptier every moment,
as the pieces dissipate.

A hopeless grasp,
with knees hitting ground,
and hands grabbing sand!

Eyes meet sky,
the pain paints it black.
Desperation kicks in...
pain owns the action.

Momentary fuel and fury,
met with remorse and regret,
and then... nothing.

Dust settles,
water washes,
and time heals.

Break the frame and
Keep on walking.


TODAY I WALKED

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Today I walked,
I observed…
And today,
I was enveloped.

No matter where my eyes fell,
I saw nothing
But everything you encompass.

Two steps forward,
One step back,
To glance a moment longer,
At the women crossing my path,
Clothed in representation of you.

Filled to the brim,
Conflicted with emotion
Pained and yearning,
I walked, I observed…
And today,
I was enveloped.

Senses heightened,
I could almost taste it all,
The reverence, the passion,
All of it…

Today I walked,
I observed…
And today,
I was enveloped,
completed and cemented
in my belief
that I want to feel
the satin of your world
against the skin of mine.


COGNIZANT

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Everything is there, until it is gone.
It is all present, until it is not.
Our hands are full, until they are empty,
And our lives are rich until they are poor.

When will we become cognizant?

We have it all, until we have nothing.
Run we will, until we fall.
Take and take until we need to receive,
Immortal until proven mortal.

When will we become cognizant?

We will take for granted until grace is required.
Hide from the needs of others until we ourselves need to be found.
Laugh at the expense of others until scorned ourselves.
Selfish until we need a selfless response.

When will we become cognizant?

Removed until involved,
Separated until joined.
Dead until alive,
Unconscious until conscious.

When will we become cognizant?


SALT ON MY LIPS

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Eyes closed,
focus with intent,
Flesh and soul exposed.
A drug induced fool,
I gave myself away!

Eyes closed,
The wish became desire,
Delusion became reality.
Swallowed it all,
And hoped for more…

Eyes open,
Future exposed,
Truth unfolded,
lost my way,
Salt on my lips.

Eyes open,
Excuse given,
Justification attempted,
I need to walk away,
Salt on my lips.

Eyes open,
Acceptance,
Closure,
Life…
Salt on my lips,

salt on my lips,
salt on my lips...

Wipe it off,
and walk on,
salt is good for wounds.


❤❤❤

Until next time...
Much Love from Cape Town, South Africa xxx
Jaynielea

FOUNDER OF THE POWERHOUSE CREATIVES & STEEM SOUTH AFRICA
JOIN ME ON TWITTER

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Jaynie, fantastic post. I want to offer a few things. This:

The moments are never planned or predetermined… I get completely enveloped by emotion – overwhelmed and consumed. Then, I write. The words are never strained, and they land one after the other in a completely seamless and symphonic manner. To me, those moments are pure blissful release, irrespective of the emotion ultimately depicted by the culmination of those individual characters.

reminds me of one of my favorite quotes about poetry. William Wordsworth said “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” For me, it is a way of processing those overwhelms, whether experienced as painful or pleasureful, and coming back to the center of who we truly are.

I read the quote, “The poet is the priest of the invisible” and it made complete sense to me. This is exactly how I experience it. Everything that is unseen – all the passion, hurt, desire, rage, love – all of it! In those moments, they all show themselves – speaking their truth through almost cryptic lyrics which display a yearning to be heard yet protected.

Poetry, again for me, is a straining at the bounds of usual language in order to express that which transcends ordinary speaking's ability to encompass the grandeur or grand-squalor of an inner state. There is a yearning to make oneself known, heard, and seen—not only to and by others, but most of all to oneself.

You write with evident passion, and I believe that is the truest prerequisite for a poet—to feel deeply. This likely extends to art in a more general sense, as creative products without heart are mere exercises in technical brilliance but do not touch us at great depth.

This

I want to feel
the satin of your world
against the skin of mine.

Was probably my favorite line out of all of them and a powerful conclusion to "Today I walked." Otherwise, I enjoyed the intensity and message of "Cognizant," and really sunk into the rhythm of "Salt on my lips." I want to acknowledge you for sharing all of these—says a lot that you are willing to share this part of yourself with us all :-)

  ·  5 years ago (edited)

Thank you very much @d-pend. Coming from you, that means quite a lot!

one of my favorite quotes about poetry. William Wordsworth said “Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.”

I read that quote and it is incredibly apt. I actually considered inserting that one on top, but the other one spoke to me at the time that I wrote this yesterday... vibes and all ;)

it is a way of processing those overwhelms, whether experienced as painful or pleasureful

I really do believe that. And its an exceptionally effective method too.

the grandeur or grand-squalor of an inner state

hahaha! Well said! Sometimes it is both and other times I don't even know what is going on "in there".

I really value your input because the sharing of our "inner selves" with the world is probably one of the scariest things to do, but I have learnt over the years that despite the fear of scrutiny as time to publish approaches and drowning in the "should I have done this" doubts afterward - the positives and what you gain in terms of personal growth for braving both those fronts, far surpasses the negatives.

Whilst I share a lot of my other creative adventures here on the Steem blockchain - when I joined almost three years ago, I shared a LOT of extremely personal experiences - many which I had never shared with anyone before and I very quickly began to discover that not only did many people identify with a lot of what I shared... I also noticed that every time I did it, I felt like a ten ton weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was incredibly healing. As is poetry.

Thank you again for your very kind reassurance and genuine (I like genuine) input.

Hope you didn't forget to hug a tree yesterday on your excursion :)

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Jaynie, this post catches me at a time where I'm about to head out the door for a nature excursion/field-trip with some friends all afternoon. Will return to it and offer some reflections later this evening or tomorrow :-)

Don't forget to hug a tree :)

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The priest is almost always. A poet in his being. With wine this was a great read and long! Some sentences are capturing my life

Aaaah!!! Glad you liked it love, thank you! I am having some wine tonight too so CHEERS to that!

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Thank you for mentioning me and bringing this to my attention @jaynie, I'm happy to have been a part of the 'metaphysical nudge' that prompted you to post these.
Like @d-pend, I am getting ready to head out to perform, so I'm reblogging this, that way I can come back and give it the serious attention it deserves!

My pleasure jerry :) I have always loved your work... you know that :)

Enjoy the perfomance... don't forget to pull some of those Elvis the pelvis moves HAHAHAHA!!!

Have fun Jerry xxx

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This one turned out to be sort of a dud (the performance) it was at a healthcare/skilled care (read nursing home) in the SMALL dining room near the door.
There were only 9 residents, one staff and 2 volunteers, but we had a good time and I got paid.
One lady was new, she said she was only there 2 wks, and was there for rehab. to learn how to use a wheel chair.
I think maybe she was a stroke victim, her legs were in braces, so I'm not sure.
I played some of the older stuff (after starting off with some newer upbeat songs that didn't get much traction) then she sang along to all of them.
Thanks again @jaynie

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Great poetry @jaynie! I had to take a cold shower after reading a couple of them! 😇

HAHAHAHA!!!! Thanks @free-reign! LOL

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These are beautiful poetry @jaynie, and you name yourself "not a poet"?!? What is poetry then!!! Hahaha! 😂

But I love what you said about "nudges" you experience that made you go back into this beautiful memory lane. That is very true. Sometimes, small, little nudges are all that it takes to release the emotions all over again.

Thank you so much sweetie! I really appreciate that and yes... life is curious that way :)

Many deep expressions to see life
Poetry is beautiful

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Very true :)

My regards, @jaynie. I hadn't had a chance to read any of his poetry. I think that his poetic saying is of quality, beyond the fact that he has not dedicated himself to poetry as a continuous activity. I believe that indeed, "to make visible the invisible" is a right way to express the essence of poetry, as already thought by the romantics in the XIX century; that which Socrates expresses through Diotima in the dialogue The banquet of Plato, when she says that "poiesis is to pass from not-being to being".
It seems to me that eroticism is very well achieved in the poem "My Shadow"; and quite well in "The Seduction of Love", although this one is perhaps more direct.
There is a visual, delicate, captivating proposal in "Break the frame" and in "Today I walked".
I like the reflective tone of "Cognizant".
Thank you and greetings.

Thank you so much for your lovely input and feedback @josemalavem. Everything you have said is very true!

I appreciate your words too!

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These are all very moving and beautiful. You must never say you are not a poet again. You've so got this! Each of these could have been presented as its own post, they all stand alone.

My favorite bit, so very true, but only those of us who have been through this can possibly understand:

When will we become cognizant?

We will take for granted until grace is required.
Hide from the needs of others until we ourselves need to be found.
Laugh at the expense of others until scorned ourselves.
Selfish until we need a selfless response.

xo

Thank you honey! Appreciate that, really!

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I've always viewed poetry very much like photography and enjoy it for it's great similarities: everyone thinks that they can do it, yet it takes skill and passion to do it well to stand the test of time. Poetry, like photography, is a device to move people, to bring out an emotion in them whether they feel they understand it or not, and without that emotional upheaval the art will have failed.

Yours is not the first, or the second, or the third set of poems I've come across lately that all but demand an attention to the body and craving for touch. I wonder, do we all miss it that much?

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and without that emotional upheaval the art will have failed.

On point!!!!!

Yours is not the first, or the second, or the third set of poems I've come across lately that all but demand an attention to the body and craving for touch. I wonder, do we all miss it that much?

I think our devices get all the "touch" now lol - sounds crazy but in many ways it is true. We are so well connected and simultaneously completely disconnected.

Thank you for the lovely compliment for my writing. Much appreciated.

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I didn't know you wrote poems too! They're very beautiful! I'm not good at writing poems, I don't know how to rhyme the phrases.lol

Only sometimes hon. :) and in my opinion, poems do not have to rhyme... so maybe you should try :)

Sometimes I've tried but it doesn't make sense! I think I'd better read those who know how to write them. 😂

Wow. Each poem is just overflowing with passion and energy, and 'Salt on My Lips' was a very fitting resolution after starting out with a bang and climaxing.

Wipe it off,
and walk on,
salt is good for wounds.

This resonates so deeply!


Thank you @jaynie for sharing. <3

I can really hear your personal voice in each of these poems.

Reminds me of what I once heard a poet say, Poetry is the history of the human heart.

You may not call yourself a poet, but your poems shape you as one. A pretty good one! Break the frame and Salt on my lips were my favourites. Maybe because I am drawn more to darker poetry. Anyway, I loved reading your poems. Did you ever think of self-publishing?