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Christmas Eve


dr_con
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Christmas Eve

 

Always threshold night

warmth enveloping beneath

a dead sun the promise of rebirth

no wonder the self sacrificing hypnosis

a miracle child whose grace is to suffer

born beneath a star exploding backwards

away from the knowable back into mystery

 

My grandfather wrapped in his pine and wax

scented room well chosen boughs burdened

with candle holders spare flickers of promise

against an unending dark and dandelion wine

his alchemical brew preserving mid-summer

tears and presents exchanged the presence

his deceased wife my favorite grandmother

 

Continuation a passing of gifts

between generations simple truth

unending impermanence Solstice's

One True King who wears a cloak

called by some-- Life Everlasting

 

a poor name

for this holy tradition

remembered celebrations

sadness and hope

before the bitter

beautiful imp-

possibility

of just

being

here.

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

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a poor name

for this holy tradition

remembered celebrations

sadness and hope

 

Dr. con, this poem makes me think on something that I can not explain. It has its power, and the part that I quoted is kind of softness, sensitivity...

 

I am happy to get back reading an amazing poetry.

 

Thank you for being here to present your poetry.

 

Aleksandra

The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia

 

 

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David W. Parsley

Hey, doc, I really like the way this poem embraces so much of the pathos that is unique to this holiday for me: family; miracles and deity; legend and myth; above all, the fabric of memories. The "star exploding backwards" as image and metaphor has particular power, lingering in the mind after the poem is through.

 

Happy Holidays,

- Dave

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Hi DC,

 

The paradox is beautifully expressed:

... beneath

a dead sun the promise of rebirth

no wonder the self sacrificing hypnosis

a miracle child whose grace is to suffer

born beneath a star exploding backwards

 

Although your allusion and use of symbolism is specifically Christian, yet in terms of the pathos of the human condition your poem has an universal resonance.

 

 

Thank you.

goldenlangur

 

 

Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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Many thanks all for your incisive and fantastic comments. Been in an almost complete life transition as of late-It has been difficult & glorious & Chaotic... So apologies for not visiting more or not replying/commenting. GL yes but as you know by now even my Xian symbols are filled with a (hopefully universal resonance- Alex good to see you! Benjamin, Eclipse Many Thanks for your resonance... And David- I'll do my best to start commenting on your pieces more often- You always offer such kind and thoughtful critiques;-)

 

Many Thanks,

 

Dr. Con & Juris

thegateless.org Come on over and check out my poetry substack y'all;-) Or if your bored, head to the Zazzle store: https://www.zazzle.com/store/gateless. If you buy anything I lose a bet, so consider that before you violate the digital rules.

 

Gate(less.png

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Frank E Gibbard

A bit late to the party, having my own impediments to keep me off this grand communion of spirits @ PMO. Lovely work by DC, well commented on by youse guys and gal. I shall only say you're no shabby commenter yourself and no mistake, so deserve the plaudits. I have no faith to cleave too you may be aware but got the religisosity aspect and the human elements of the common experience of all those Christmas Eves one's seen pass from our pasts to presents (oh a pun!) Frank.

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  • 2 weeks later...
Larsen M. Callirhoe

Hello my fair feathered acquaintances poetry friends. I am retiring from poetry. Like Nia my muse has no meaning anymore to the pain and loniliness I have experienced in recent years. My bouts witgh gluacoma have taken a turn for the worse. Today is a better day for my eyesight perhaps. I dropped my college courses. It no longer seems as relevant or as important as it did perhaps even two months ago. I am opened up completely to the disdainofpossibilities and soon I will find safe haven and refugee under the weeping nighttime stars as I returen hoping with a safe passage back to the unexpected unknown. Life complicates what a child see. I have touched the lives of over 10,000 expiring poets of many faiths and believes over the last dozen years. I was one day two late from figuring it out. I was annointed the high priest on mother Earth Gaia when I was 13 years old in the wilderness a innocent child. I have been paralyszed over 16 years now. I have seen so much life and death. I hear their names calling out to me everyday perhaps. Maybe I should say nothing at all. My body is weak, my heart is humble, and myspirit s strong floating into the netherlands. I am more educated and versed than most people realize. I will not say much, maybe when I fade into the light light returning back to sanctuary we all desire wll the imprint of this life I have life make any difference at all. If I made a difference in one life than I praytel it all unfolds. Be well.

 

A humble poem Doc Con and Juris. How we all have come together herein itself is a blessing and a wonder. No matter the impurities that destroy the flesh this poem touchs my heart a dischord and reflection that reminds me much of my own youth Maybe i look at life off-the-wall compared to most. Selah-vai.

 

Psuedyonem Larsen M. Callirhoe (a Latin indigo or violet flower; prounounced kal' lir' hoe')

V. Michael Lashewitz

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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