Poetry – I Hold My Breath

I Hold My Breath

I find it amazing that I can have ideas, thoughts and images in my head that I transform into solid words. I can write those words as symbols using letters. Someone else who I have never seen can come along and scan those symbols, fused in ink upon a page, and translate them back into thoughts, ideas and images. They can communicate the same visions and feelings I was having at the time.

My visions are frozen into concrete meaning forever.

Long after I am gone people will be able to scan those symbols and understand what was going on in my head.

Isn’t that astounding?

From the universe within my head I speak to the universe within your head via coded messages.

I hope we see the same pictures!

I  Hold my Breath

I hold my breath

And exhale it into these words

Trapped in ink upon a page.

I scan my thoughts

And pour them out

To be imprisoned in symbols.

I snare the moments

In my mind and freeze them

Forever into this ice.

I sense my feelings

And express them in inadequate

Markings on paper.

I speak from here

Inside the depths of my head

To you who might be reading.

Somehow against all the odds

You see the black and white

And recreate the colour pictures

That I envisaged.

Communication is the wonder of life!

Opher 23.8.2015

Poetry – Communication

Communication

Communicate with me

For that is how we grow.

Open your mind

For me to see

And delight

In what we find.

Share your thoughts

And hear mine

And we will nod our heads

As we ponder

Upon the truths

Of what we both have said.

Opher 3.7.2015

Communication

There is nothing better than a debate, discussion and argument between friends as we pierce the truth of all we know and hit the limits of our knowledge and deduction.

For only in the sharing, thinking through and weighing up can we hope to grow.

Our minds illuminate the truths that grow inside our heads as our brains are stimulated by the concepts of others. Ideas and thoughts chase each other and, like  snooker balls, they collide and spark new, exciting answers.

Talk is the nourishment of the neurons. It gives birth to new delights.

Words? What do they mean? Do they mean the same for you and me?

DSC_0457

We are all artists. We paint with words.

We start as babies with the spoken word and learn the rudiments of language.

As children we learn the letters and conventions of grammar, we memorise the various punctuation and put them together into the patterns that communicate.

Each word is a symbol. It is no more than an abstract idea.

We each live in our own personal universe and have to hope that the contents of that universe, and consequently the symbols we apply to that content, bear resemblance to the feelings, moods, colours and forms that reside in the universes of everyone else.

How can we be sure?

When I talk of sadness it is of a mood within myself. I must assume you attach the same emotion to that word. Every sadness is different. We apply our empathy.

English is a good language to have as it is such a mongrel of a language. We have purloined words from every culture round the globe and brought them into play. It is rich with great variety. There are many different words for the same thing. When I write I am able to choose the word with the correct nuance and intonation. It gives me scope and choice.

By combining these symbols and arranging them I am able to describe the full gamut of my universe. I am able to combine the symbols as one would combine colours from a pallet, to create hues of emotion, description and imagination. They communicate and so must mean that our universes (created by the range of our senses and operations of our brain) are similar. When I speak of red you can picture that in your head.

That is remarkable.

Yet I must always remember that symbols are not the real thing; they are not the experience. Our communication must, at best, be partial. The world’s we see and the minds we inhabit are unique. We are all so much more that the words we use.

But through writing, using these symbols, we not only see ourselves more vividly but also glimpse the truths of others like us.

Communication is good. Let us hope that we will always share our worlds. You are always welcome in mine!

Poetry – Read me – A poem for love, trust and communication – reach out to me and I’ll let you in, give you all I’ve got to give.

We are all alone in this universe; islands of minds, who think we connect. Yet we are marooned in the distance of our thoughts and being. We do not even know for certain if anyone else exists.

We are figments of our own imagination.

Yet, even so I try to communicate, to cross bridges, to relate. Reach out to me and I will take you on trust.

I am alone but I would be together. Reach out to me, read my thoughts and I will reach out to you and give you all I’ve got to give.

I hold nothing back. Read me.

 

Read me

 

Read me

I am chaos.

My world is full of atoms

And stars.

Read me

For I tell of futures;

Possibilities that collide

With Quasars.

Read me

I am all possibility

Found in minds

And bars.

 

For I do not conform

To the limits imposed.

I explode the myths

Of those opposed.

 

Read me and you might learn

As I teach,

I reach

To those who are

Out of reach.

 

Opher  12.7.2015

Poetry – Communication – a poem to the expansion of minds that takes place when we talk and listen to each other.

There is nothing better than a debate, discussion and argument between friends as we pierce the truth of all we know.

For only in the sharing, thinking through and weighing up can we hope to grow.

Our minds illuminate the truths that grow inside our heads as our brains are stimulated by the concepts of others. Ideas and thoughts chase each other and, like pinballs, they collide and spark new, exciting answers.

Talk is the nourishment of the neurones. It gives birth to new delights.

Communication

Communicate with me

For that is how we grow.

Open your mind

For me to see

And delight

In what we find.

 

Share your thoughts

And hear mine

And we will nod our heads

As we ponder

Upon the truths

Of what we both have said.

 

Opher 3.7.2015