21 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 086 Smoldering incense


Smoldering incense, perfumes the darkness, murmured chanting, ripples across the silence
where offerings, of the faithful spread the roots, which actually hold the stones in place

Shadows dance, to the rhythms of the candles, living today’s memories, of yesterday’s prayer
Merit, for the lives yet to come

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24 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 087 Many times desires


Many times desires, have conquered me, changing the objects of my will,
but this continues to enlighten me, just and how I feel

God shows me love, a debt to pay, while unthrift fools, throws theirs away

I’m learning to heal, this given pain, a captive’s captive I remain
The height of it all, I know will be, to cry for those who wait to see
those allowing their love to still and search no more, only beggars at a beggars door

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26 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 088 There’s always a place


There’s always a place, I find in the day, where I turn my eyes, to keep it away
another just wishin, for a little less pain …..  Just like the others, I’ll never complain

I pass by so many, who know not my smile, who look once, then away, with all their own style
I don’t want to understand and what’s to explain …..  I’ll never be, the one to complain

(more…)

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28 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 089 Pools rise up in steps


Pools rise up in steps, one above the other, a frozen waterfall of quiet meditation

they cascade down over slopes, like my memories, impeded only by clumps of oleanders

looking out over the deep silence of the tombs lay scattered over the countryside

along side, where Apollo once sat, I pondered where they all went

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30 Nov 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 090 Forbidden are such mountains


Forbidden are such mountains, in the shadow of the light, to hold faith that it’s the fountains that lay forth its delight.  And there paused above the mirror, in the reflection, I saw a glance and the breath of a faint murmur, like me she seeks romance.

 

Deep within the garden, we cared but not for time, where I was more than a friend and she was nobody’s but mine

 

(more…)

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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