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The Orange Good and The White Sun_1
I had gotten an odd present for my birthday.
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?
To be continued...
That was a huge box, covered in bright and shining paper, with a big red bow.
I had been so curious and finally I decided to open the box next day.
I was looking at it, fidgeting with it.
Suddenly it seemed to me that there was something moving inside the box.
I knocked at the box with my forefinger.
Then I put my ear to the bright paper.
I heard the funny husky voice from there:
- Don't knock, please!
I got scared and recoiled from the table.
The box fell down.
- O-o-oh! - the voice said from the box.
Then there was some fuss for a while, and finally the same husky voice asked:
- Let me get out of here please, there is no space and no air to breath.
- Who are you?
- I am a Good, - the voice said from the box.
- ???
There began some fuss in the box again.
And I hastily untied the bow.
I took the paper away and carefully touched the cover.
Something small and orange fell from the box.
It jumped to the windowsill and almost fell outside.
- Be careful! - I pulled it to the floor, - you could hurt yourself!
- “Hurt”? - the Good asked, - what does “hurt” mean?
That simple and straight question made me confused.
- Well, it means that you could die...
- What does “die” mean? - the funny orange Good jumped onto my lap.
How could I explain to this little one what is death?
And I said:
- Forget!
The Good laughed and rolled down from my lap.
- Where did you come from, such an odd thing?
My new friend laughed again but didn't answer.
Then it flooded me with questions “What is that white on the trees and windows? What is there outside that nips my cheeks?”
I had no time even comprehend those simple and innocent questions, and then it asked new ones.
Finally the list of questions was over and my new little friend started to walk around the room, looking at the souvenirs which probably were its weakness.
I sighed with relief, at the chance to rest but then it startled me with the next questions:
- What is so noisy?
- Those are cars, - I said.
- What are they for?
- To drive people.
- Some kind of horses?
- Mmm, something... sort of... But they are much faster, complicated and dangerous.
- Dangerous? What does it mean?
- Well, danger is something that we are afraid of.
- Why are you afraid of it?
- Oh my God! Please stop asking these questions, your what's and why's!
- Why are you afraid of it? - the Good asked its question again, it wasn't even paying attention at my words.
- Because everybody is afraid of death! - I said it a bit irritated.
- Hm-m, the death... perhaps it is pleasure!
- No! - I got frown. - it is very bad.
- Then what is bad?
I got lost and babbled something:
- Well, bad... bad is not good...
I was really wondered because the Good came to me and gravely nodded.
It was thinking of something for a while.
Then it called me:
- Hey, if the death is not good then why is there so much of it?
To be continued...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
Post CommentThe Orange Good and The White Sun_2
I stopped and thought, and honestly I didn't know what to say.
The one silly conclusion hanging in my mind was if there is so much of death, then it must be good!
But then what is good? What is the Good?
I looked at it.
Something small, shining and orange, without any stable shape.
Something as innocent as probably I was a long time ago...
Or was I still?
Otherwise it couldn't get to me at all...
I took the Good and put it on the table.
It was looking at me with its pure blue eyes and waiting.
I don't know what happened to my voice because I whispered:
- You are right friend, but I don't really understand it.
- Why don't you understand?
- Why? - I turned around, - nobody understands.
- Hm, - the Good stopped talking.
It kept silent till noon.
And it got confused when I invited it for lunch.
It started to ask me the questions again.
A funny and curious little one which was itself a proof that anything good cannot be bigger than this my odd orange friend.
So, I realized that it didn't need food.
- Why do you eat? - the Good queried, - for what?
- Well, everybody has to eat to be alive.
- What is alive?
- Mmm, alive is not dead... - I wished I didn't say it.
- The death... again death... death, - the Good was repeating this word being climbing on the cabinet.
- Hey little one! Come down! - I called it when I finished lunch but it was silent, - ok, as you wish!
It stayed there till the end of the day.
I called it a few more times and then left it alone.
The Good woke me in the morning:
- You know, the stars sometimes also didn't understand me, but they used to say why. When the sun threw me to the space, the stars were so glad that they finally had somebody to talk to... you know, they are very talkative! You can't imagine how easily they get bored if they have to keep quiet for a few minutes. Ah, so they were so happy to have me. But since that moment I was thrown to the space, the sun became white. And it will be white forever. It was already too tired.
I suddenly figured out that the bright orange colour of my friend had become paler.
- What's wrong with you? - I asked, but it didn't answer.
It was getting lighter and lighter day after day.
I didn't hear its clear and infectious laughter anymore.
The Good was getting more and more quiet and passive.
Then I realized that it was sick.
I didn't know how to treat it, I have never treated the Good.
I left it on the shelf and went to the pharmacy for some advice in this strange situation.
When I came back, I didn't find the light-orange blemish among the books.
The window was opened and there was a mark on the windowsill.
I realized that the Good had flown away.
Perhaps, the stars were calling for it.
To be continued...
The one silly conclusion hanging in my mind was if there is so much of death, then it must be good!
But then what is good? What is the Good?
I looked at it.
Something small, shining and orange, without any stable shape.
Something as innocent as probably I was a long time ago...
Or was I still?
Otherwise it couldn't get to me at all...
I took the Good and put it on the table.
It was looking at me with its pure blue eyes and waiting.
I don't know what happened to my voice because I whispered:
- You are right friend, but I don't really understand it.
- Why don't you understand?
- Why? - I turned around, - nobody understands.
- Hm, - the Good stopped talking.
It kept silent till noon.
And it got confused when I invited it for lunch.
It started to ask me the questions again.
A funny and curious little one which was itself a proof that anything good cannot be bigger than this my odd orange friend.
So, I realized that it didn't need food.
- Why do you eat? - the Good queried, - for what?
- Well, everybody has to eat to be alive.
- What is alive?
- Mmm, alive is not dead... - I wished I didn't say it.
- The death... again death... death, - the Good was repeating this word being climbing on the cabinet.
- Hey little one! Come down! - I called it when I finished lunch but it was silent, - ok, as you wish!
It stayed there till the end of the day.
I called it a few more times and then left it alone.
The Good woke me in the morning:
- You know, the stars sometimes also didn't understand me, but they used to say why. When the sun threw me to the space, the stars were so glad that they finally had somebody to talk to... you know, they are very talkative! You can't imagine how easily they get bored if they have to keep quiet for a few minutes. Ah, so they were so happy to have me. But since that moment I was thrown to the space, the sun became white. And it will be white forever. It was already too tired.
I suddenly figured out that the bright orange colour of my friend had become paler.
- What's wrong with you? - I asked, but it didn't answer.
It was getting lighter and lighter day after day.
I didn't hear its clear and infectious laughter anymore.
The Good was getting more and more quiet and passive.
Then I realized that it was sick.
I didn't know how to treat it, I have never treated the Good.
I left it on the shelf and went to the pharmacy for some advice in this strange situation.
When I came back, I didn't find the light-orange blemish among the books.
The window was opened and there was a mark on the windowsill.
I realized that the Good had flown away.
Perhaps, the stars were calling for it.
To be continued...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
Post CommentThe Orange Good and The White Sun_3
I looked at the sun.
It was the same white.
And suddenly I imagined the whole Universe with the white sun in the middle and a little orange Good that was jumping from one planet to another.
And the whole Universe was its home.
It has been many years since the Good left me, but I'm still waiting for it.
Maybe it will come back...
Not forever...
I know it can't live in our world...
But just for a while, to see each other.
And I look at the white sun, and I hear its whispering: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And I ask for how long should I wait, but it just repeats: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And something ugly hides from me the white sun...
It's hanging and laughing in the clouds.
And I'm pretty sure that the Good will come back.
It won't forget me.
But what if it can't find my house or my city?
When I think of it I feel so cold and scared.
It might be that a little orange Good is walking now somewhere on this planet.
So, if you meet it, please say that I'm missing my little friend.
Perhaps, it doesn't know what it is “to miss”, but it doesn't matter.
It will ask you: “What is missing?”, and maybe the white sun will smile and become yellow again.
Kiev,
2003
It was the same white.
And suddenly I imagined the whole Universe with the white sun in the middle and a little orange Good that was jumping from one planet to another.
And the whole Universe was its home.
It has been many years since the Good left me, but I'm still waiting for it.
Maybe it will come back...
Not forever...
I know it can't live in our world...
But just for a while, to see each other.
And I look at the white sun, and I hear its whispering: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And I ask for how long should I wait, but it just repeats: “Wait, wait... wait...”
And something ugly hides from me the white sun...
It's hanging and laughing in the clouds.
And I'm pretty sure that the Good will come back.
It won't forget me.
But what if it can't find my house or my city?
When I think of it I feel so cold and scared.
It might be that a little orange Good is walking now somewhere on this planet.
So, if you meet it, please say that I'm missing my little friend.
Perhaps, it doesn't know what it is “to miss”, but it doesn't matter.
It will ask you: “What is missing?”, and maybe the white sun will smile and become yellow again.
Kiev,
2003
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
Post CommentSynergize:
Everything happens for it’s own reason
All things have closure, a change of season
Love has a way of working it’s way into a paradigm
Of loveless scarcity in it’s own good time.
Yesterdays of romance fade away.
To unconditional love gone astray.
You realize what matters most is there
All others fade away without a care.
Conflict and duress become a blessing in disguise
Bridges are repaired regardless of who or why’s.
Manifestation of dreams that you forget about
Come together, the universe unfolds without doubt.
Letting go the past to allow the future to take hold
As the years pass by in the raining, torrid tears of old
Perhaps we really do get the chance
With life, birth and death to really dance.
The dance of prosperity, abundance and peace
As all is forgiven in heart and mind with ease.
Many thanks I give for all my miracles and blessings
As they have been plentiful, as my spirit sings
Harmony from dissonance, order from chaos
Complete bliss from deep despair without any loss
All things come full circle as I always knew they would
Obvious possibilities that synergize as they should.
All things have closure, a change of season
Love has a way of working it’s way into a paradigm
Of loveless scarcity in it’s own good time.
Yesterdays of romance fade away.
To unconditional love gone astray.
You realize what matters most is there
All others fade away without a care.
Conflict and duress become a blessing in disguise
Bridges are repaired regardless of who or why’s.
Manifestation of dreams that you forget about
Come together, the universe unfolds without doubt.
Letting go the past to allow the future to take hold
As the years pass by in the raining, torrid tears of old
Perhaps we really do get the chance
With life, birth and death to really dance.
The dance of prosperity, abundance and peace
As all is forgiven in heart and mind with ease.
Many thanks I give for all my miracles and blessings
As they have been plentiful, as my spirit sings
Harmony from dissonance, order from chaos
Complete bliss from deep despair without any loss
All things come full circle as I always knew they would
Obvious possibilities that synergize as they should.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Synergize: the sum of the whole is greater than each individual combinedI dare you to hit me again…
So I have a legal reason
To kill you without regret.
The time is of the season
And your due paid and met.
You’ve struck me with words
With insults, now with your fists
So now it’s time for the all but absurd
From your chest, I will rip
Your heart with my bare hands
Do not even try to demand
What I will do; or how I will do it
You just met your match and lit
Upon a force to be reckoned with
Now we will see justice prevail
Not an old wife’s tale or myth
Just your reward for all the hell
You have showered upon another’s soul
Over and over again, above and below.
The reaper has come to call, and it will be done
What you have done returned ten fold in full sum.
To kill you without regret.
The time is of the season
And your due paid and met.
You’ve struck me with words
With insults, now with your fists
So now it’s time for the all but absurd
From your chest, I will rip
Your heart with my bare hands
Do not even try to demand
What I will do; or how I will do it
You just met your match and lit
Upon a force to be reckoned with
Now we will see justice prevail
Not an old wife’s tale or myth
Just your reward for all the hell
You have showered upon another’s soul
Over and over again, above and below.
The reaper has come to call, and it will be done
What you have done returned ten fold in full sum.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
Abusive relationships are very sharp in my mind while writing this pen.After The Fall
Anticipation of the consequences is killing our soul
Forfeiture of all we believe in will become our goal
Truth, Honor, Integrity and Justice are nil upon the table
Ever changing our destiny by leaving the scars of the label
Reaching nothing more than a false destination.
Thinking with closed minds and preconceived paradigms
Hinders our recovery from pestilence and hate crimes
Exchanging our free essence for one that is continually bound.
Fastened to the unrealistic knowledge that all will be forgiven
After the fall of the human race; we learn that absolution
Leads not to freedom from paying the reaper in full sum
Love is not for sale, nor may it be unraveled or undone.
Forfeiture of all we believe in will become our goal
Truth, Honor, Integrity and Justice are nil upon the table
Ever changing our destiny by leaving the scars of the label
Reaching nothing more than a false destination.
Thinking with closed minds and preconceived paradigms
Hinders our recovery from pestilence and hate crimes
Exchanging our free essence for one that is continually bound.
Fastened to the unrealistic knowledge that all will be forgiven
After the fall of the human race; we learn that absolution
Leads not to freedom from paying the reaper in full sum
Love is not for sale, nor may it be unraveled or undone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
An Acrostic about today's society and political flavorings...love is...(2)
Love is the most wonderful symphony which the destiny make it and the feelings play it and the lovers dance with it ,the love can make the human is a poet,we do not feel the strong of love and the severe of it until the time of farewell coming,the most beauty moments in love is when u wait and the language which the lovers clevers with it, is the eyes language,the screams of the lovers are whispers and their tears is sighs ,the talking of lovers is speak between 2 hearts .
In religation,love is the home which the 2 souls settle in it .
In geography ,love is found in the soul and his capital is the heart .
In history , love is the most firmly time and the most old time .
In chemistry , love is a timer bomb the destiny fix it inside the human and this bomb not have an exact time or date to blow up .
In physics , love is a magnetic case which make attraction between 2 souls and make them live in one body .
In philiosiphy , the love is the holy of souls and the exchange of loyalty between 2 souls and love can make the 2 souls settle in the temple of love for ever .
Love is as war ,it is very easy to start it ,but after that it is very hard to stop it .
Love is the only game which share by 2 persons and they win toghter or lost together .
Maybe love born with one word but it can not end with one word,love do not kill the lovers but it make them live the suspension between the case of life and death .
And who love in true way , will be love for ever
regards,
khaled
In religation,love is the home which the 2 souls settle in it .
In geography ,love is found in the soul and his capital is the heart .
In history , love is the most firmly time and the most old time .
In chemistry , love is a timer bomb the destiny fix it inside the human and this bomb not have an exact time or date to blow up .
In physics , love is a magnetic case which make attraction between 2 souls and make them live in one body .
In philiosiphy , the love is the holy of souls and the exchange of loyalty between 2 souls and love can make the 2 souls settle in the temple of love for ever .
Love is as war ,it is very easy to start it ,but after that it is very hard to stop it .
Love is the only game which share by 2 persons and they win toghter or lost together .
Maybe love born with one word but it can not end with one word,love do not kill the lovers but it make them live the suspension between the case of life and death .
And who love in true way , will be love for ever
regards,
khaled
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2009
About this poem:
little thoughts about love ( in my special opinion )She listens
She stands and listens to the wind
sing a tune across time and space
the gentle throb of a lonely ache
she listens to his beating heart
She stands and sings to the wind
a quiet song about space and time
the ebb and flow of a restless soul
she speaks to his anxious mind
sing a tune across time and space
the gentle throb of a lonely ache
she listens to his beating heart
She stands and sings to the wind
a quiet song about space and time
the ebb and flow of a restless soul
she speaks to his anxious mind
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2010
Post CommentFocus
Bringing into sharp clarity a single image
While all else fades and blurs
The vision of you sears my mind
Causing all other pictures to fade and crumble
I see you everywhere I look
I hear your voice in every conversation
Longing for the touch of you
To feel you pressed against me
Your lips brushing mine
The sensation of your breath on my cheek
Every fibre of my being coming into clarity
Focused on the image of you and me
While all else fades and blurs
The vision of you sears my mind
Causing all other pictures to fade and crumble
I see you everywhere I look
I hear your voice in every conversation
Longing for the touch of you
To feel you pressed against me
Your lips brushing mine
The sensation of your breath on my cheek
Every fibre of my being coming into clarity
Focused on the image of you and me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2010
Post CommentThis side of me
Seeking fun and adventure at every turn
Quick to laugh and the champ of one-liners
Easy-going, one day at a time
I am free to show
This side of me
Enthralled by the sunset on the water
Listening to the sounds of silence
Touched by the beauty that surrounds
I will gladly show
This side of me
Constantly striving to fill the need to know
Searching and thirsting for knowledge
A deep need to understand my world
I can show to you
This side of me
Faith that has found its resting place
Firmly placed in the hands of God
Sustaining me through tempest seas
I hopefully can show
This side of me
Gentle mother rocking her child
Crooning softly to her dear little one
Teaching, training, raising to maturity
Showing a part of
This side of me
Strong-headed, strong-willed woman
Tough as stone, stand my ground
No compromise of my values
Can I show you
This side of me
Buried deep the hidden dreams
The aching heart and arms
That long to hold a matching soul
I do not dare show
This side of me
Pain and sorrow have left their marks
Tears have etched ravines across my heart
Battle scars mar my life
No one can know
This side of me
Quick to laugh and the champ of one-liners
Easy-going, one day at a time
I am free to show
This side of me
Enthralled by the sunset on the water
Listening to the sounds of silence
Touched by the beauty that surrounds
I will gladly show
This side of me
Constantly striving to fill the need to know
Searching and thirsting for knowledge
A deep need to understand my world
I can show to you
This side of me
Faith that has found its resting place
Firmly placed in the hands of God
Sustaining me through tempest seas
I hopefully can show
This side of me
Gentle mother rocking her child
Crooning softly to her dear little one
Teaching, training, raising to maturity
Showing a part of
This side of me
Strong-headed, strong-willed woman
Tough as stone, stand my ground
No compromise of my values
Can I show you
This side of me
Buried deep the hidden dreams
The aching heart and arms
That long to hold a matching soul
I do not dare show
This side of me
Pain and sorrow have left their marks
Tears have etched ravines across my heart
Battle scars mar my life
No one can know
This side of me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2010
About this poem:
it is about the things we will and will not show each otherPoems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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