Happy New Year - 2013

Sunset

The sun is about to set;

I can not bring it back.

The sun is putting on a  show;

All I can say is "wow"!

Soon the sun will be gone

And the darkness will have won.

The sun puts up a last fight

With this awesome display of light.

Tomorrow the sun again will rise

To another day of light just as nice.

Our calendar will end today.

It is not the end, I can say!

A new year is about to begin.

I wonder: What will it bring?

Pain, fear and distress

Or only love and happiness?

This is what I wish for you:

That these two will see you through.

Love and Happiness all through the year,

Because you to me are dear.

Happy New Year 2013

Christmas is Coming

Christmas is coming

Christmas is coming,

Everyone is running

From one place to the other

And no one seems to bother.

Before at mother’s times

They could hear the angels’ chimes.

Where is it all gone?

The memory is still strong.

The snow would slowly fall;

All people big and small

Are outside having fun.

Where has it all gone?

Baking cookies with mother

Packing parcels with father

Singing carols on the street;

Those times were so sweet.

Christmas is coming

Everyone is running

All are busy with their buying;

Makes me feel like crying.

I want the old times back;

With no thought of lack,

With joy in abundance

As it had been once.

So if from the cycle I break free

All the little wonders I can see;

Children’s eyes still shine so strong

As they hear the angels’ song.

Not everything has gone.

It is easy to be done:

Just stop your running

And you know 

Christmas is coming.

Snow

pure snowflakes

pure snowflakes
all perfect in form
drift down from the sky
to cover the imperfect

pure snowflakes

pure snowflakes
all perfect in form
each one so perfect in form
they come down together,

but each separately you see
each one different
all floating free
drift down from the sky
the many become one
yet each one alone
alone in its fun
till they land gently
each one in turn
to land on the place
where we get as we earn
to cover the imperfect
or to veil over the good
each without judgement
in dale, vale or wood
till all difference is gone
and all are cloaked in new brightness
despite covering all cold

Rivers of Tar

Rivers of Tar

black rivers of tar

like cold lava they are

made by human hand

cutting through the land

with time passing by

no human left to cry

all labour was in vain

nature takes over again

Sad Love Poetry

Despair

all I feel is despair

life is just not fair

it is your kissing

that I am missing

in whatever I do

I'm thinking of you

and how you feel

was it ever real?

I will search my mind

until I finally find

your loving care -

but all I get is despair

all I'm feeling is the pain

of missing you again

What happened to our love?

that's all I'm thinking of.

I want the joy and fun

and loving in the sun

my mind goes all the way back

and gives me another whack

for what I long

is long since gone

has it ever been there?

all I feel is despair

Ghost in my Machine ;-)

The "Ghost in my Machine" told me this a few days ago:


go exist

smile

at this

A lovely, short poem,
with lots food for thought,

written by an algorithm,

that runs on my computer,

taking 20 random numbers,

when 2 or more are identical

they get a word assigned to them,

(out of a list of over 730 words).

The random number picking then runs for 10 times.

After 10 scans it automatically ends -

telling you which "words" were found.

Here how the inventor of this "ghost radar" app described it:

The real "core" theory of the thing is if the little odd seemingly "random" occurrences that people sometimes attribute to ghosts are not "random" but opportunistic tweaks from the otherside to try and communicate, then creating something meant to be easily tweaked and provided words will be the best opportunity for those othersiders to get their message across and understood.The script just makes it so that the thing that needs to be tweaked is on the users computer {not my server} and the random number generator uses the "seed" generated from the users device. FYI those numbers really aren't random; the algorithm varies by device but uses a combination of internal clock time, cpu speed and sometimes even temperature ... all things that an entity 'might' be able to tweak on the users system.  The more frequently a number is chosen the less likely it is just a random event ... I'm calling this 'emphasis'.

Author "Siguie"

So, I have been playing with this app the last few days. Sometimes the word lists it gives out makes sense. Most times however, it needs a lot of interpretation by the reader.

This morning, noting down the words as they appeared, they formed a rhyme I just had to share.

The ghost in my machine writes poetry. =))

Once it's gone public I might add the link to this app here. Until then, should another poem be given out you can be sure that I will note it down and share.

Oh - there are YouTube videos for "Ghost in a Machine" :

and this one:

And I faintly remember there has been a short anime like sequence with that title too. Well, actually it's called "Ghost in the Shell":

And the wikis to those two references: Ghost in the Machine and Ghost in the Shell

And somehow reading all that (and some further writings on "mind-body dualism" and "ghosts in machine (electronic)" the poem is even more BIGSMILE and makes sense.

Looking forward to more poetry and messages from my "ghost in my machine".

 ;-))

In the Evening Light

In the Evening Light

as the sun is about to set

the light plays with the wood

tiny flies buzz a last flight

around the leaves 

chasing the sun rays

crickets sound a last song

birds settle for the night

a mouse runs across the path

squirrels run up the trunks

then all is silent

but for the wind 

rustling through the trees

saying good night

all is quiet 

the sun went down

sleep well, my wood

and have nice dreams

© Micha Fire, July 2012

This is not the wood I own - but the wood close to my home that I love to walk through (and sometimes even jog). It's such a lovely place in nature. I enjoy thinking about it and experiencing all the different plays of light and shadow in all seasons.

See and Feel

See and Feel

When you are blind what are colours to you?

What is yellow, red, black, white or blue?

What are trees, flowers, sunshine or life?

What are people, beauty, happiness or a wife?

There are no colors to blind people.

No sunshine, no rain, no snow.

No rivers, trees, flowers, high or low.

No beauty, no happiness, no life.

But there is help for those blind.

Help for them to see again.

Help to see happiness, sunshine.

Help for a better way to live.

Then there are colors for us blind.

There is yellow, red, black, white and blue.

There is sunshine, rain, snow and life.

There is happiness, kind people, joy and beauty.

You can see trees, flowers and fields.

You can see creeks making rivers forming the sea.

You can see hills, mountains and plains.

You can see houses, light and nature.

If you can see, life is to you like music.

Like music never ending, soft and happy.

Like it’s pulling you up and out of the darkness;

Out of the darkness to see life, happiness and beauty.

This is how you feel when you can see again.

Full of happiness, never ending happiness.

Life is worth living for you again.

Being able to see and happiness make life.

"Dance" - a watercolor for school lesson themed "Abstract People", 1982

Be like a Butterfly

Just  a little poem I wrote about half a year ago:

Be like a Butterfly

get a move on 

shine your light

unfold your wings

fly to the rainbow

in the heavens

have no fear

and no worry

 November 17, 2011, 11:20:06 PM

Mother's Day

A day that should not only celebrated on one day of the year but every time you can think of.

Without a mother none of us would be here now. 

This morning - rather unintentionally - I had seen this:

Michael Mosely: Was ist der Mensch? 1. Wie das Leben beginnt

Very interesting and informing and reminding of the wonders of life and that without the self-less giving of a mother from the first moment on we would not exist. 

Still, sometimes we forget this. 

And then have get reminded to think about it on such a day like this. 

As I was in 1978, a teenager then. And to thank my mother although I could not be with her on that day as I was in a boarding school and had no chance to go home just for that one weekend, I wrote her a poem:

Times Have Changed

I don’t know her anymore.

I can’t get across to her.

The way she acts,

And talks, and

The things she wears

Are so different from my time.

She doesn’t understand.

And I don’t understand her.

I say: “Please, wear a dress

When we go and visit grandma.”

She says: “Why should I?

I like jeans better.”

I like her, and no

Doubt she likes me,

But times have changed.

The youth is different now

Than it was thirty years ago.

(For mother’s day in 1978.)
Written from the view point of the mother about her daughter!!

By now I have grown children of my own. And we do not understand each other every day. But I know that  I love them and that they, in their own way, love me too.

On mother's day it is not only a day to thank our mothers to have born us, but also to thank our children that we have to have been born to us - to teach and learn from each other.

Spring - this is the time for poetry

I see the flowers bloom
spring has come so soon
the sun is shining bright
chasing away the night

the days will be long
as will be my happy song
birds sing with all their might
the fun of spring in sight

bees come out to play
nothing will make me stay
I go out in the sun
to play and have fun

in the sun so bright
I fill my heart with light
so I can pass it on
to anyone that comes along

winter now has gone
spring again has won
no more stories to be told
about the freezing cold

and even if it may rain
it will cause me no pain
I think of the little flower
with rain it has more power

to grow and strife
and show of the new life
coming out of the earth
it is like a birth

Micha Fire; April 2008

This poem is a few years old - and it has been valid ever since.
It even made me take a photo of the tree that I had painted a twig from.

bloodplum on 7th April 2011

This year I'm still waiting for the tree to start blooming - on last years photo it had been in full flower for over two weeks already.

Once it is in full flower I will take another photo to show how it "shines" this year. ^^

Beneath

The combination of picture and words.

Beneath

 

 

 

Beneath the sand

Lies another land

A place eyes can't see 

Forgotten by you and me

Together we search the beach

Until we finally reach

That hidden land

Beneath the sand

Following the German version of this poem -
which once again makes me think about why I prefer to write in English.
To elaborate on this would fill another post.

Und für alle, die Englisch nicht so gut können, die Version des Gedichtes auf Deutsch:

Unter dem Sand

Liegt ein andres Land

Ein unsichtbarer Ort

Vergessen und fort

Durch den Strand wir graben

Bis erreicht wir es haben

Das versteckte Land

Unter dem Sand