Tag Archives: repetition

Two-fer today!

Sometimes I write things down in my little fat notebook and promptly forget them, because gawd-damn they are depressing. I thought I’d share two of them today!

Untitled #1
Or, whoa did I watch Metropolis (1927 film) that day?

The grime smothers the city
From thousands of pounding feet
And spinning wheels daily
The lives of the workers are bleak
Forever in motion, without rest
No hope of something greater.
The cold bites their fingers
Numb to everything but the
Endless expanse of grey sky, black dirt.
Is there anything more than this,
The vast suffering of faceless drones?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.

Untitled #2
Or, apparently I was not happy with humanity

just another pointless lament
listless animalistic stereotype
bored with endless ennui
cloudy of mind, purposeless
a wandering soul searching for
the next thing to live for
and the next and the next
a quest for the newest stimulation
ultimately in vain, because
it too shall becomes tiresome
and the cycle shall repeat and repeat
the quest the resolution and again
why the unsatisfactory quest
just to be doomed to seek, find and lose?

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2012.


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Filed under Poetry

The Butterfly and Bee

“Maybe I’ve been here before/ I know this room, I’ve walked this floor/ I used to live alone before I knew you.”

🙂 I like Leonard Cohen. Famous Blue Raincoat is probably my favourite, but Hallelujah is rather well-known, at least through the many covers that have been done. Rufus Wainwright’s was excellent, and k.d. lang’s was pretty good too. Can’t forget Jeff Buckley’s either. Dang, there are so many.

In any case. This is about poetry. Poetry that was kind of inspired by Zhuangzi’s butterfly dream, and I believe might have been written with marker on a piece of cardboard that got rescued from the kindling box. This was on that same trip I took up with the fam-damily up to Balsam Lake.

The Butterfly and Bee

I felt the strangest sense of deja-vu
The other night around the fire
I knew I had been there
Before, I knew that smell,
I heard the same conversation
In the same words, tones and voices,
Felt that very same wind.

I took a moment, frozen
In that sameness of space and time
As though this place was the dream
And the place before, a place
Half-remembered, half-dreamt,
Was the reality.

© Bridget Noonan, 2010, 2011.


Filed under Poetry

The Power of a Word

I’m a pretty firm believer in the power of language to shape life. Sometimes it gets a little crowded in my head, and things like this poem happen.

The Power of a Word

hasten onward
moving talking breathing
thinking always thinking
thinking think think think

the texture of words
invoking their meaning through
enunciation so crucial-

not flat as words on a page;
it’s a trap it’s a trap it’s a
trap it’s a trap it is

eyes closed breathing even
impeccable picture of repose
yet not asleep;
deep in thought perhaps
absorbing all else through
deprivation of sight
lost in a private world

hasten on, yes it is time
you’ll be late, late! for a very important
thinking thinking think think

mentally framing and rephrasing-
de-liberating, un-freeing-
trapping thoughts by giving them words.

think-think doublethink
the power of the mind to delude oneself
is that what this is?

the power of a word
what is the point in
thinking always thinking
think think Think.

© Bridget Noonan, 2009, 2011.


Filed under Poetry