"Poem for the New Year 2015"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

12/31/14 5:15pm

 

 

Look, a squirrel 

er

poem for the new year

 

2015

 

There's the two. I'm sort of getting used to it now

and aughts been around for over a decade

 

let that sink in for a moment or so

 

 

It's the 15

 

I had a premonition driving to work

(ah the commute, so mundane when 

not 

getting

into wrecks and such)

that

(the premonition)

this might be the year

I physically cease to exist

the annum I exit

the last words on the last day

 

then I shuddered, 

made my left turn

and began thinking 

more positive thoughts

 

or

 

at least making the attempt

 

 

what was I saying

 

?

 

words were voluminously important once

but as these decades keep piling up

I find I forget the words

and 

(remember, remember)

so I tend to keep away from the pen

er the typewriter

I mean the computer

 

was it the words which fled

as (typed into the ether)

they

1. ceased to matter

2. became mere facebook fodder

3. couldn't be remembered

 

or are the memories the 

words describe going to

 

disappear

 

as well

 

hence (as usual) a bit torrent of words

to mark the end of another decade,

er, I mean year

 

will I type 2025

2035

 

?

 

it's true

your mind seems to need to 

forget some things as you 

find these decades piling up 

a bit faster than you'd 

ever imagined

 

and you look on the wall

(or the screen)

and the calendar dates

begin looking strange

 

it's not the two

I knew

and not the aught

but

 

It's the 15

 

look, a squirrel...

 

 

"Legacy For Myself"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

started 03/04/15 5:30 am pst 

finished 03/10/15 7:00 am pst 

 

 

What will my legacy be when I'm gone?

I have no children, this life to pass on

I have not the funds for philanthropy

I'm just content to gaze at clouds and the sea

 

I'm a guy who takes pictures (and writes verses too)

I enjoy watching movies, and reading books through

Seems like I've always been there and here

As family faded, and friends fast fall from my sphere

 

I like to draw pictures, but they're only cartoons

No paintings or artwork or musical tunes

Will be left when I exit this grand mortality

So I question what will be my last legacy

 

When I die just sweep me under the rug

Never liked to be touched but I'll treasure your hug

The Universal Mind holds the godhead and cosmos, I know

So afraid of death, I'm not, It's the Universal flow

 

What will my legacy be here on earth?

I feel loved by a few, for what it's worth

Don't know if they'll miss me, or how long it'll take

As I lose my last breath and pull up life's last stake

 

For now and the meantime (as I've written before)

There's just too much life left for me in store

There's just too much to do, and so little time

And someday I still hope to find one to help finish my rhyme

 

You can turn off the internet I won't miss the distraction

You can take away my senses, my limbs, just a fraction

Of mighty existence, the here and the now

I'll write one last verse, cry one last tear, and how

 

Will the end be just like the beginning my friends

I am still aging backwards, childlike wonder it tends

The clouds float by easy, I hear the sound of the sea

And yet I wonder still, what will be my legacy?

 

 

 

"Nowhere Man"

poetry by MIchael F. Nyiri

04-28-15 6:00am pst

 

 

I don't have the power to heal the sick, 

cure man's ills, 

take your pick

 

My worldview may have once been inspired, 

but after over sixty years, 

I just feel tired

 

I have felt this deep pain, 

I have cried for humanity, 

to God's utter disdain

 

The words I have have written will never be read

The thoughts I have harbored have never been said

And I fear sometime soon I too will lay dead

and the winds will wash over my soul

yes the sands of time swirl taking toll 

 

I seem only to preach to the choir

singing praises for a commonsense time

but optimism and spirituality are the themes of a liar

and nothing ever seems to make reason or rhyme

 

the rhythms are off and the poems rot away

the more feelings which crowd me the less I can say

upset and anger fill me with pain

and I cry for humanity 

yet again and again

 

No I don't have the power to raise the dead,

walk on water,

ease the doubt in my head

 

My worldview gets darker as the days advance

Over sixty years

dimming positive stance

 

I still believe in a universal mind

Yet here I stand alone

Salvation never seeming to find

 

The words I have have written will never be read

The thoughts I have harbored have never been said

And I fear sometime soon I too will lay dead

and the winds will wash over my soul

yes the sands of time swirl taking toll 

 

 

 

"Chessboard (b&w)"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

07-19-15 4:30am pdt

 

 

The lines were drawn, straight standing for years

Through bitter bludgeon, and raging tears

Squared off and sanquine, and squarely distinct

Through eons compartments no barriers chinked

 

The chessmen lined up, white with white, black with black

One moved to another's square, engaging attack

Vicious but orderly, eradication by design

War as a game, square by square, line by line

 

Existence as if each side is in jeopardy

 

Calculate chaos culminating in victory

 

One war shall end and another start quickly

 

The intent is insane and the outcome quite prickly

 

Why can't lines blur, and the colors converge?

Existence is not metaphor

Do the pieces go blind so that harmony emerge?

The battle seems sorrowful sore

Could the squares on the chessboard of life melt away

And the chessmen just stop this old game that they play

Mix up the pieces and march off the board

Peace love and harmony?

Would that be untoward?

 

 

 

"Love and Epiphany"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

07-28-15 7:00am pdt

 

 

Losing respect for segments of humanity

Over illogical and obstinate hatred

Verily, I've preached tolerance

Ever so long my heart hurts

 

Eradications, espousals of exegesis gone awry

Pluck one's confusions but not one's faith

I pause, take a deep breath and sing the

Praise of the Universal

Here, now, always, forever, beyond

And the little inconsistencies of life abounding

Never shall sway my belief in the human spirit

Yet daily life sometimes bears witness to madness

 

 

 

"Those Who Remember History"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

08-01-15 3:30pm pdt

 

 

Two months ago a treasured friend 

passed into history

He favored history, he embraced history

and now he's become history

History is best remembered 

by us all

and as long as I remain

a part of history

I shall remember our shared history

on the blogs

in cyberspace

and in heaven

 

My friend would hang out with me

at Socrates Cafe,

asking questions

considering the possibilities

embracing the wholeness

of eternity

Now he is able

to greet and ask 

questions

of the 

master 

himself

 

Rest well, Richard

You came to me

just last week

in a vision

I'd been thinking

of death

and the fact that

it's not the 

final curtain on our lives

just the end to the first act

 

I'll wait out the intermission

and join you in the 

play of history

 

possibly much sooner than 

I ever planned

but who knows

?

 

You wrote about the 

last summer in Maine

the cabin you built

with your hands

and your will

before the hands

and the will 

aged 

I will ponder our souls

together in history

as I think of 

Maine 

in the summer

​

​

"Untitled"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

11-24-15 4:38am pst

​

​

​

We only know that He's prepared a place
And we know not it's real estate in space
At lif'e's short end a new beginning's nigh
Alongside Jesus with the Glory in Heaven's sky

​

This doesn't help to soothe us still alive
We cannot hold back grief a life deprived
Remember sadness full and sow thy bounty
Reflect on life's great mystery and beauty

​

One soul will fade from view but join with God
The everlasting promise forever told