Links |
Join |
Forums |
Find Help |
Recovery Readings |
Spiritual Meditations |
Chat |
Contact |
|
|
Inspirations, Poetry, Quotes, Thoughts, Etc A place for you to express yourself. Share inspirations, poetry, quotes, writings etc. here. |
|
Thread Tools | Display Modes |
09-02-2014, 05:43 AM | #6 |
Senior Member
Join Date: Aug 2013
Posts: 115
|
Facsimile Thereof
The disciples were absorbed in a discussion of Lao-tzu's dictum:
Those who know do not say; those who say do not know. When the Master entered, they asked him what the words meant. Said the Master, “Which of you knows the fragrance of a rose?” All of them knew. Then he said, “Put it into words.” All of them were silent. Retold by Anthony de Mello One Minute Wisdom copyright 1988 p. 137 This poem is about a couple of people named Bogey, and Bergman in a movie called Casablanca. "Facsimile Thereof" Ab ovo ensconced, behind a guise to dance With a chance hereby enhanced. A pearl aloof crowded stares. A fancied tune titivates a tale scuples entail By burdens betwixt gaited glares. Arriving for waters; just a girl in a desert for starters, About where the despised somehow seem to be trusted, And a candid kiss is much more, than just a peck via fore A rainy iron-kneed gavotte box becomes rusted. Hiding a hair's breath humming reel--a struggles appeal By an hour glass configured, 'twas fairly dated. As can be for soi-distant pari passu of escapes born anew. For even the tame, over time, become jaded. Historic voices of Berlin have now grown grey and few, While a gal twice man-tranced still likes to wear blue; And hence the cliché, "Here's looking at you...", Is far too well--overrated. Nigh an eve pro prior to a bell of aurora, Trenchant, and collected by fare, A slightly-tilted, forward falling firth, from a fedora, Gently ran on nodded modes near trouvre. With nare noetic warning, nor doubted disclaimer, A freedom fan flared, necessitated to namer her, And flew her to a tour of a dear on a lease; A pair of visas visa vis, a yon, trained deprivation chamber. Far from a slave to a diminishing diameter, she sprung like a rose in iambic pentameter, Ceded not to the cranks of the grinder, Whom traveled afar with no hope to find her. But a coarsely-haired lass lay not in the prose Of pourboire clubs donning shews of con crows, Albeit feazed by a break of ties, with evanescent bows. Strange as though, lured-like liberty, Proceed through a path of lucidity, When which enjoined in a tickled purdah of melody, Oozed a silent tune ivory. Pondering the pond of posted proposal in lieu Of dignity at the disposal, She returned back to the cringed brede that blew Winds baroque feminine, chivalry. Whence feat of the moment pranced it, She moved to the truce: Exit of transit. Ventured in a purpose plane tight, As should a proved deuce tide to delight. Last edited by honeydumplin; 09-02-2014 at 05:49 AM. Reason: redundancy |
The Following User Says Thank You to honeydumplin For Sharing: |
Bookmarks |
Currently Active Users Viewing This Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests) | |
|
|
Similar Threads | ||||
Thread | Thread Starter | Forum | Replies | Last Post |
Breathe - Michael W. Smith | janbear | Videos and Music | 0 | 02-26-2014 10:59 AM |