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Category Archives: Metaphysical Poetry
Rapping
RAPPING A blank piece of paper, A pencil or pen: A thought in my mind Jumped out at me when I least had expected A sentence to form. I can tell that it isn’t My habit, or norm. It’s like … Continue reading →
Mother Earth
MOTHER EARTH 5-13-2007=18 In a year that sums to nine, A number cherished and divine, Mother’s Day, It can be seen, Falls on Sunday, May thirteen, Which, of course, Is another nine And makes this day Especially fine. The total, … Continue reading →
Father Time
FATHER TIME 6-17-2007=23=5 In a year that sums to 9, A number cherished and divine, Father’s Day – it can be seen – Falls on June, the seventeenth. 6-17 sums to 14, Which sums to five, a number pristine. Now, … Continue reading →
Der Glaube
DER GLAUBE Der Glaube faellt wie’s Laub vom Baum. Ein neuer spriesst hervor im Traum. Denn glauben muss man, um zu leben. Drum graemt Euch nicht. So ist es eben.
Beliefs (II)
B E L I E F S (II) They fall like leaves from trees. In due course, others follow these. As a tree needs leaves To live and to be, So beliefs are the leaves of humanity. One leaf, or … Continue reading →
Beliefs (I)
B E L I E F S (I) They fall like leaves from trees. In due course, others follow these. As a tree needs leaves to live and to be, So beliefs are the leaves of humanity. A belief in … Continue reading →
Lost Key
LOST KEY How strange that I don’t see Into the inner self, Into the inner me. I’d find the wealth of ages, Knowledge of the sages, The world, the universe and more: I’d find myself. I’ve lost the key to … Continue reading →
Dreams
DREAMS To hear the author reciting her poem, accompanied by Wayne Thiel on guitar, click here ((visual effects also by Wayne) The day is done, three times over. I am wrung out. My limbs are deliciously aching. But my mind needs … Continue reading →
Words
WORDS To hear the author reciting her poem, accompanied by Wayne Thiel on guitar, click here (visual effects also by Wayne) Without ink not a single word can be read Though the light shines on writer and pen. But traces are … Continue reading →
Monday Morning
Monday Morning I am awake, yet not awake. I’m sort of in between. Drowsy, cosy, still in bed Dream glimpses to be seen With inner vision. Outwardly, the rain is pouring down, And radiator mutterings like babbling brooks that drown … Continue reading →
Ute's Poetry and Musings 