Posts Tagged ‘Gedig’

Mary Oliver

“How I Go to the Woods”:

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single

friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore



I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds

or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of

praying, as you no doubt have yours.


Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit

on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,

until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost

unhearable sound of the roses singing.


If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love

you very much.



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by Marie Howe

(after Stephen Hawking)

Do you sometimes want to wake up to the singularity

we once were?

so compact nobody

needed a bed, or food or money —

nobody hiding in the school bathroom

or home alone

pulling open the drawer

where the pills are kept.

For every atom belonging to me as good

Belongs to you.   Remember?

There was no   Nature.    No

them.   No tests

to determine if the elephant

grieves her calf    or if

the coral reef feels pain.    Trashed

oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;

would that we could wake up   to what we were

— when we were ocean    and before that

to when sky was earth, and animal was energy, and rock was

liquid and stars were space and space was not

at all — nothing

before we came to believe humans were so important

before this awful loneliness.

Can molecules recall it?

what once was?    before anything happened?

No I, no We, no one. No was

No verb      no noun

only a tiny tiny dot brimming with

is is is is is

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Beannacht: A Poem

For Josie

By John O’Donnohue


On the day when

The weight deadens

On your shoulders

And you stumble,

May the clay dance

To balance you.


And when your eyes

Freeze behind

The grey window

And the ghost of loss

Gets in to you,

May a flock of colours,

Indigo, red, green,

And azure blue,

Come to awaken in you

A meadow of delight.



When the canvas frays

In the currach of thought

And a stain of ocean

Blackens beneath you,

May there come across the waters

A path of yellow moonlight

To bring you safely home.


May the nourishment of the earth be yours,

May the clarity of light be yours,

May the fluency of the ocean be yours,

May the protection of the ancestors be yours.


And so may a slow

Wind work these words

Of love around you,

An invisible cloak

To mind your life.


[Note: “Beannacht” is the Gaelic word for “blessing.” A “currach” is a large boat used on the west coast of Ireland.]


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War is kind

Die gedig is van Stephen Crane (1871-1900) en kom uit Wayne W. Dyer se boek “Wisdom of the Ages”

Luister gerus na die musiek terwyl jy die gedig lees.

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.

Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.

Because your lover threw wild hands toward the sky

And the affrighted steed ran on alone,

Do not weep.

War is kind.


Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment,

Little souls who thirst for fight –

These men were born to drill and die.

The unexplained glory flies above them;

Great is the battle-god, great – and his kingdom

A field where a thousand corpses lie.

Syria 900Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.

Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches,

Raged at his breast, gulped and died,

Do not weep.

War is kind.

Syria 2

Swift-blazing flag of the regiment,

Eagle with crest of red and gold,

These men were born to drill and die.

Point for them the virtue of slaughter,

Make plain to them the excellence of killing,

And a field where a thousand corpses lie.

Syria 3

Mother whose heart hung humble as a button

On the bright splendid shroud of your son,

Do not weep.

War is kind.

Syria 4

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Tears of Joy

Tears of joy

Enter the freak show

With earthly peals

Of maddened laughter

They bring in the dead

Past weary priests

With bloodstained hands

The dead march

Doomed dammed


By a faith never abandoned

Never real

They grin in maddened anguish

As they race ever forward

Towards a promised lie

Hannelie 2009

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`n Gedig

Freaked out

You hold your hands outstretched


What do you see in his eyes


Don’t you understand

He’s not there

You wait hands clenched


What do you feel


You don’t understand

He is not there.

You don’t waiver

Not one moment

is trust broken

Not one moment

love denied.

You don’t Understand

He is not there.

Silence ripped apart

Just for a moment

you smile

You did understand

He was there


Hannelie 2009

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