Sunset

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I thought I knew the limit of beauty,
until my eyes was set on thee

I thought I knew grace,
until I looked upon thy face

Such magnificence that I now know.
Such majesty, is what I see, now glow.

Orange red hues spreads along the horizon,
that I cannot help but keep my eyes on.

Though it blinds me, the essence of its glow,
I feel the need to know.

Framed by a mountain, the sky and the open sea,
this is where my heart clearly wants to be.

Across the open ocean blue,
nothing I’ve seen compares to you.

Water shimmers in your brilliance,
as you struggle and show resilience.

In the end you give way to night
but not without a fight.

 

 

J M Lysun

The last of your kind

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The last of a kind

 

To be the last of your kind; alone with no one to share your laughter or sadness.
To never hear the sound of others or set eyes on anything remotely resembling yourself.

With only your reflection to remind you of your glorious heritage.
Never to feel the loving touch of someone who could reciprocate your love.

To feel eyes set on you, baffled, wondering who or what you are and,
to see those who still know you glance with shocked expressions;
exuding pity and some even showing contempt as they impatiently wait for your passing.

In their eyes you are no more than a ghost, a fleeting presence,
whose moment in the sun is about to be ended.
To know that they are right and await the passing of the sun and moon,
to bring an end to this aberration that is your life.

To know that your kind were once so numerous,
covering all the corners of your world and
now to be merely a remnant that time will gradually forget.
Not to be mourned and maybe not even to be remembered.

With no kin to note your passing or to shed a tear.
To never again be spoken of amongst the living; merely referenced as a curiosity.
What you feel is beyond loneliness; knowing that there is no one to console you,
no one to claim understanding.

All who see you know your fate and avoid drawing attention to themselves,
less they be next.
You are the only one left to witness an extinction.
All alone, you will shed a tear, not for your parting but for memories you leave behind.
There will be no one to tend for the memories of loved ones long gone.

Already forgotten, you know you will be reduced to dust and be blown away.
In time, you will fade from the minds of others and if lucky,
be condemned to the annals of history; a footnote of what used to be.

To leave this world with unanswered questions;
what fate brought you to this point?
what curse left you alone to witness your own demise in silence?

 

 

J M Lysun

Human thoughtlessness

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rubbish

The voice of greed,
is full of excuses.
Denial is what it breeds,
for all the abuses.

We live on this Earth,
which we must share.
Without respecting others worth,
how will we fare?

Our own mistakes,
we do our best to cover.
What others make,
we find a bother.

How sad that you and I,
are fast to shame.
I really wonder why,
we like to blame.

To ignore true beauty,
until it’s much too late.
When it was clearly our duty,
to love things, we’ve learnt to hate.

So much of nature we like to fight;
plants we call weeds and burn,
wondrous creatures,whose rights
to live, we spurn.

Doesn’t it seem odd?
How we hate to share.
Preferring to play god,
we face despair.

 

J M Lysun

An ageing mind

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forgetfulness

Once magic did flow,
like a river from my mind.

Lucid and clear it painted words without fear,
but time like a sabre did shear the best
and left the rest as my bequest.

With sharpness gone,
and when I look beyond,
the mysteries of the world I cannot see,
lost to me for an eternity.

No more to taste the words.
No more to paint the sounds.
My mind, the world, it now confounds.

Merely to gaze upon parchments and beseech
and weep as such beauty therein escapes my reach.

Oh, to have tasted the fruit from the tree of knowledge,
and to have lost abundant courage.

To allow weeds to grow
with nothing great to sow.

Time is cruel to an inattentive mind,
of our past glories, to taunt us, it does remind.

It was not so at the very start.
I know not why the fire of passion did from me depart.

With the vigour of youth long gone,
with nothing yet quite done.

Now alone on shaky legs, with a mind greyed by sand,
I defiantly stand.

Swearing to defend what remains of passion,
to the very end.

 

J M Lysun

The Haunted Tower

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Cold and unforgiving.
A testimony to defiance it stands proud.
Aged, weathered.
But determined never to yield.
Never to surrender.
Even abandoned, it oozes menace.
Empty, door less and yet never silent.
Ever restless it groans.
It stands guarding and remembering;
the punishment meted to audacity,
the vengefulness to contempt.
Pitiless it counts the souls lost,
whose mortal bodies stain its walls.
Exuding more cold than winter,
immortal and without remorse,
its walls cast ghoulish shadows
to play with minds.
Ever tormenting.
Ever relentless in its pursuit of souls.
It calls to all who would listen;
challenging the daring,
dominating the weak willed,
to come.

J M Lysun

Technology and men

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future

If technology will grow to save mankind,
I wonder what we will have to leave behind?
Will our soul continue to exist,
or will it be lost in this technological mist?
With our limbs evolved
and our handy problems solved;
What else can we expect,
on what wonders will we reflect?
We can already see in the dark,
maybe next, we’ll have wings and fly faster than a lark?
Maybe the galaxy we can even explore,
as science learns to open the door?
To space and beyond, we may begin to race
on other worlds we’ll place a human face.
So many changes are coming our way,
keeping us busy and shortening our day.
I wonder if these things that we make,
when they learn not to break,
will they seek to displace us,
or even replace us?
What ever is our fate
I hope it’s not too late.
That even if they out pace us,
they will care enough to leave some space,
for the human race.

 

J M Lysun

The magic of fairy tales

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Fairy tales

All the fairy tales I know
begin with once upon a time,
anything else uttered would just be an awful crime
A phrase so bold.
A phrase so old,
and yet timeless

Such tales full of magic,
with even a touch of tragic,
are easy for young minds to follow.
With always a happy ending,
it’s sure to make hearts mellow.

Full of crazy bearded wizards,
kindly fairies,
Princesses in pretty dresses,
Dragons and knights, who fight on sight.
Clearly written to excite,
always to delight.

These tales with grace,
set at a gentle pace,
where good and evil do battle
and sensibilities they do rattle;
use joyful words to play
and in young minds they tend to stay.

 

J M Lysun

Loneliness

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Loneliness

To feel alone on a crowded street
and only your heart, can you hear beat.

Detached from those around,
you barely hear a sound.

Numbed by the lack of sensation,
you abandon all expectation.

And you keep walking on,
knowing nothing can be done.

With not a single word exchanged,
or another plan arranged.

Your mind is lost,
as you endure the frost.

Cold as stone,
and alone.

 

 J M Lysun

A world beneath my feet

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Beneath my feet,
the world looks very neat.

Grasses trimmed and pretty,
typical of what you’d find in a city.

Rows of concrete floors on either side,
just to help me ease my stride.

But just below where your eyes can’t see,
is a world that’s wild and free.

If only there, I could now be
I wonder what my eyes would see?

May be a place full of mountains and ridges,
with many insects making bridges?

Or maybe a place that’s bright and airy,
where you might meet a happy fairy?

In truth, I have no clue,
of what’s down below and what they do.

But of what they do I should not care,
just as long as they are happy there.

I wish they are always having fun,
hidden from the brightness of the sun.

 

 

J M Lysun

Memories of London

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All know the beauty that is Paris,
and that its fame is justly claimed,
but the beauty of London, to some, is just the same.

If you walk along the Thames at night,
you’d be amazed at the wondrous sights.

Old and new come into view.
You can see where many stories grew.

Its beauty is truly outstanding in the night
where shadows play with the gentle burning light.

Of the day there’s much, much, more to say
even if the weather’s grey.

Numerous Towers and bridges you will see.
Abbeys and Cathedrals are always free.

Galleries and museums line the streets,
where history and pleasure, there you’ll greet.

At Trafalgar Square, your eyes will stare,
as many heroes are honoured there.

Piccadilly Circus is where shopping and culture meets
on the buzzing lively, London streets.

If Shakespeare’s plays are what you want to see
then there’s no better place for you to be.

There is much more that I can share
but its best for your to venture there.

 

 

J M Lysun

 

Week 5: In search of inspiration

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Week 5

This week I decided to tweet my work for the first time. Not really sure how to use this to full effect yet but on my quest to increase my readership I’ve decided to follow advice and give it a try.

Since my last weekly update did not get much attention, I’ll keep this one brief and avoid going over too many things. I came across some interesting quotes I’d like to share.

It’s amazing how a spate of bad health can change your perspective on life. Having experienced some major changes in my own health and life in general, I have grown to appreciate the values expounded below.

“Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship” – Buddha

I can also relate to the next quote. We spend so much of our life defining our own limits, “knowing ourselves”, through lack of confidence and fear, that when faced with the unknown we often freeze or back away from a challenge. I’ve decided to embrace the positive side of the message below, that we may become more than we believe.

“We know what we are, but know not what we may be” – William Shakespeare

The last quote is so beautiful that I had to include it. Imagine having the mind and depth of imagination to see something deeper than is physically perceptible. The main theme of all the “greats” is about finding and revealing something that is already there; that things, ideas are not actually created but found through the gift of deep perception. I tend to believe this, that we don’t really create but discover God’s hidden beauty/ laws and that we are all capable of peeking into this pool of knowledge/wisdom; some more than others. Even Einstein spoke of seeing the hand of God in nature.

“I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free” – Michelangelo

I don’t know about the rest of you, one of the challenges for me, as far as the blog is concerned, is finding inspiration for the “next piece.” I will take each day as it comes and flow with whatever inspires me and hope I will find enough inspiration to keep your attention. The experiment continues and I am very thankful for the support I am receiving.

All I need is the call of a moment,
an object, a memory, a vision, a thought,
so pure to inspire me to set it free.
What I need is inspiration.

That’s enough for this week, from a curious mind.

J M Lysun

Image from creative awards

http://www.creativeadawards.com/inspiration/

Daedalus and Icarus

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daedalusandicarus
To soar above the clouds so high,
heaven bound, I do now fly.

I wish to gaze upon the sun so bright,
just to view this wondrous sight.

Though forewarned, that there I should not go,
its beauty calls me and I have to show.

upwards and onwards I climb
but soon I run out of time

With melted wings I do descend,
how it saddens me to know, it cannot mend.

A last breath I take to say good bye.
With great sorrow I hear my father cry.

Oh Icarus! Why did you have to go so high.
I told you, to the sun you should not fly.

Farewell my son, adieu.

In heaven we’ll have more time to spend, in lieu.

 

J M Lysun

The river of life

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cycle of life

 

The sand of time,
do us remind,
our moment is fleeting,
ends when our hearts stop beating.
So much to see,
so much to be,
with nothing everlasting,
we’re only here in passing.
That’s how it all flows,
all you need to know.
So, enjoy the moment,
make your atonement.
Release the past,
for the future at last.
Fill your time with merriment,
your mind with experiment,
and always be there,
for those you care.
No time spare,
So share.

 

J M Lysun

Amalfi Coast

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Praiano

Oh, Praiano pearl of Campania,
my memories of you they haunt me still.
Such timeless beauty did I see.
How I hope they’ll stay with me.

Birth place of the Renaissance.
How our path did cross by chance.

Merely there to see the views by day,
but setting eyes on you I had to stay.

I remember seeing part of you sitting high above a rustic hill
and how at your beach, down below, it was great to chill.

Oh, Praiano how memories of your beauty cling to me
So impossible , so surreal
to my heart your peaceful beauty did appeal.

I knew my heart, to you, was lost from the very start,
when tears I shed at my depart.

 

J M Lysun

The 300 Spartans

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Thermopylae! Thermopylea!
How my heart aches to hear thy name.
How I wish I could share thy fame.
Such heroics I have never heard before,
of how Spartan warriors fought the Persians along this shore.

With Leonidas, their king, they came to claim eternal fame,
and in doing so, Great Xerxes name, they made to rhyme with shame.

Bred from birth to fight,
even out numbered they fought with all their might.
Never to bend,
to fight to the end,
was all that they did know.
This to Xerxes’s army they did show.

To dine with Hades, Leonidas chanted, they would go.
To Xerxes the Persian king, they swore they’d never bow.

Though betrayed and their hopes did fade, they still made a final stand.
The 300 Spartans were defiant to the very end.

For here lies the bones of the 300 Spartans,
forever loyal, to their warrior king.

Such words did Herodotus write for others to praise and sing.

 

 

J M Lysun

A world of chaos

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Locked in a jungle,
with no place to breath,
the journey becomes unbearable.
Gripped by hostile intents,
met by aggression,
tormented even;
as determination meets necessity,
rage with calmness,
in a melding pot of confusion
that refuses to flow.
Nature takes its course;
inch by inch,
metre by metre,
as desperation shows.
with no more than a glance of clock,
anger loses its silence.
Then the honking begins;
words are exchanged,
as the beast awakes,
in the madness
of the urban jungle
that is home.

 

J M Lysun

Pixie Lights

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What a wondrous sight I saw,
one moonlit night.
Lights dancing and prancing
with sheer delight.
Blues and reds
my eyes they fed.

Amazed and dazed
by what I saw,
I peered around
to see some more,
and could not believe
what my eyes could see,
a ring of lights dancing around a tree.

Lightness and brightness
dancing in the night.
Wisps’ of colours
whizzing from site to site.
With sounds of singing
and bells ringing,
I fell into a trance
and my soul began to dance.

Just then the lights to me did surge,
as my fear they sought to purge.
Such joy did my heart conceive.
Such blessings did I receive.
Surrounded by pixies, I did delight
Oh, what a magical sight.

 

J M Lysun

 

Chimp

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My friend Chimpy is a chimpanzee,
some say he is even smarter than me.
I took him to school the other day,
to my surprise in my class he wanted to stay.

Seeing the wrong Pythagoras solution on the board,
to make sure that he was not ignored,
he wrote the answer of what should be,
annoying those that could not see.

At first being “Irrational” and absurd they all did cry.
Seeing a “Surd” they all did sigh.

But when their hazy eyes began to clear,
they greeted Chimpy with an open cheer.

The teacher happy that he was here,
packed her bags and said good bye.
Leaving Chimpy to teach the class,
she was glad to have a break at last.

 

 

 J M Lysun

A father’s day

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A fathers day

A moment of bliss;
is sitting idly on a hot summers day,
lying on a deck chair watching my wife and children from a distant play,
with a beer in my hand,
music in my ears,
a gentle cool breeze on my back,
food in my sac,
with nothing that I lack.
Ah, that’s what I call a summers day!

 

J M Lysun

Black Panther

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Black panther

Black Panther hunter of the night,
what manner of beast are you,
that you are both revered and feared by men?

Are you merely a legend?
A shadow in the night?
Are your unearthly feats recited just to inspire fright?

Some call you the great defender
and others terror of the night.
Which of this true?
Which of this is you?

Devourer of infinite light,
master of silence.
If in this world you do exist,
why did God create you great like this?
With all this might;
you swim,
you climb,
with movements quite sublime.
Blessed with paws so strong,
teeth so long,
that none can hope to match you
let alone catch you.

Why is it that from darkness you appear
and at your whim can disappear?
You make me wonder,
and even ponder;
If you’re merely a trick of light,
what manner of magic keeps you out of sight?
How Is it that you inspire fear without even being near?

Oh, terror of night.
Sleek and slender.
Mighty defender.

What manner of beast are you?

 

 

J M Lysun

Summary of my exploration

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Week 4

Week 4:  A summary of my exploration, to boldly go where others have gone before, but with a different set of eyes and ears.

Looking out across from my apartment, it’s another beautiful sunny day and here I am indoors writing my blog. Try and beat that for dedication?! Since most of you are probably too busy, getting on with your interesting lives or writing for your own blogs, to care for my idle taunts, I rest easily knowing that I won’t be chastised online for my arrogance. I hope.

If you have been following my blog, you would have noticed the gradual change in its appearance and my continued growing number of experiments. I was even tempted to change my style of writing at one point to try to emulate some of the more accomplished writers I have come across but I realised that it wouldn’t be me and as such it would be difficult to sustain. So, I have decided to patiently continue my gradual development of my own style and see how far it can take me. Following guidance once more:

Insist on yourself; never imitate. Your own gift you can offer with the cumulative force of a whole life’s cultivation, but of the adopted talent of another, you have only an extemporaneous, half possession.”   – Ralph Waldo Emerson

A number of you have written to me with words of encouragement, and dare I say it, even praise. You have my sincerest thanks for taking time to share your thoughts. I also thank everyone visiting my blog and “liking” my poems.

Although I welcome comments, as a relative newbie to the blog writing scene, at the back of my mind is this picture of waking up and finding a mail box full of negative critiques; advising me to hang up my pen and take up archery instead or something like that. So far, I have been spared this indignity, so I continue to write in ignorance. I would definitely appreciate constructive comments from fellow bloggers to steer me towards improving my work but I do not want to be graded and be given blog awards etc. If you don’t have anything positive to say by merely not commenting and/or not liking is sufficient to grab my attention.

“Even those who write against fame wish for the fame of having written well, and those who read their works desire the fame of having read them.” – Blaise Pascal

Of the pieces I’ve written so far, my personal favourites are Play , My reflection , Light , Rainbows , Calmness and Original me for their  lightness, simplicity and fun. I also enjoyed creating Self esteem and Unwanted for the twist at the end. The Master, for its sheer reverence; reflecting what I feel when I see great work.  In search of Genius for lighting the way.

My deeper observation in The Silent Mind, Culture, Respect, Goodwill felt good to put on paper. When I first posted the “The Silent Mind”, I attached a picture of Buddha but changed it soon after that when it occurred to me I was being less than honest as to the source of what I wrote. The “Silent Mind” wasn’t written with any religious connotations in mind or any specific cultural reference. I wrote this in a moment of deep contemplation, focusing on what “silence” meant to me and what I thought it could contribute. Like many before me, I sincerely believe that hidden knowledge waits to be unlocked and found if we only opened our ears to listen and our eyes to observe and our hearts to absorb. We’re often so busy in our everyday lives that even if something of utter beauty and perfection appears in front of us, we would be too distracted to appreciate it.

As for Eternal love, The moon I love and Timeless Moments they were written to appease my heart; written to reflect emotional attachment to people, moments, spiritual or godly influences. I wanted to test whether I could encapsulate some of these feelings.

You will also probably have noticed the fun I was having playing with words when creating modern Haikus or playing with words in general. It was clearly a hit and miss, but I feel I am getting more and more used to the form and mindset.  I hope that I managed to capture a real haiku moment in one of them.

Last but not least, my historic “Poems” were also fun to write. It’s fun to spread historic awareness and encourage deeper involvement in Philosophy and Science. Science doesn’t have to be boring or difficult to absorb; the difficulty only comes in making the great observations! I was trying to instil this belief in my writing.

I thought I’d give you this summary to give you a better picture of what I am up to in my writings, that there is method in my madness.

Having fun writing is the main theme I cling to. I am not expecting or after any accolades. I am happy enough to know that what I write can touch some of you. It may inspire you to pick up a history book or to double check my science facts or even explore the topics that I am writing about in your own way.

One thing is for certain; my appreciation of the talents that surround me continues to grow.

That’s my thoughts for this week.

 

From J M Lysun, A curious mind.

The nature of truth

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What I hear of I cannot see,
what I see I know it cannot be,
why is it so?

A promise is made,
yet when I grasp it,
it fades leaving me with nothing to show.

I try to hold it in my heart,
but that was futile from the very start.

Though it is there for all to see,
the powers that be will never set it free.

Concealed and abandoned by deceitful words and minds,
its presence they do their best to undermine.

What is revealed by words is seldom true,
for what is made known is seen by very few.

Masked by those who care and those who fear,
its essence is sometimes never clear.

 But  never fear,

its always near.

If you truly seek it you will find it.

THE TRUTH

 

 

J M Lysun

Lord Admiral Nelson’s column Trafalgar square

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To be seen and not heard
is a destiny that I did not seek.
Towering as I do.
Commanding the vista in my best suit.
Forever immortalised in stone.
Forever revered for duties performed for God, King and Country.
But cold and silent.

The only company I have, at this lofty
height, are the birds that traverse the sky
and anoint me with their passing.
I do not mind the indignity as I
know none can see.

But to be no longer flesh and blood.
With my true mortal shell long gone
and to know my spirit dwells in stone
irks me some.

Once I had a voice,
I could feel the breeze,
the scorching sun,
the rain.

Now I feel nothing;
Neither the cold of winter,
nor the warmth of summer can stir me.

I am no more than a shell.
A poor representation of what I was.

Though I owe the artist much,
I wish he could have been more generous
and returned my arm.

What good is it to be immortalised
and yet be denied the vitality that use to be mine.

And as for those damned lions,
that ring the column that support me,
why do they roar so loudly in the night?

Have I not earned my peace?

For ” God and my Country,” here I stand.

 

 

J M Lysun