Fascination With Facts and Facets
58
We feel we need
To ask for reasons
When there are
No reasons.
When the reasons
Are within
The thing itself,
We need
To ask it not.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
What is time or space
In moments
Of shared caring?
Does the ocean exist
To separate
Heart from heart?
I think not!
Is not a moment
Fully lived
The closest thing
To paradise?
I think it is!
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
written for a someone special - who knows who he is.
Your unconditional friendship offer
Totally disarms me.
Please don't spoil it
With conditions.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
Winter comes
Abruptly
None too soon.
And afterwards
Its harvest
Sprawls
Upon the loom
Of life
We call a brain.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
The morning's world's
Indifferent
To the inner state of me.
I could be dying here,
And even so, -
In that same moment,
Through glistening dew,
A bird sings.
Breezes blow.
A sun arises.
Cocks crow.
A squirrel listens,
A church bell rings.
Roaches endure.
Surprises ~ few.
But this, I know -
There is a kind of comfort in it.
Life is securely insecure!
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
Yet when the clouds have passed,
We find we’re still alive,
Still in one piece.
No cause to strive!
As emptiness begins to fill again
There need be no regret.
For - where love was,
It lingers, yet.
It visited then,
Refreshed itself
And now has taken flight,
For love's a wing´d thing!-
To taste, but not to cling.
It stays most often
Where it is free.
Fulfills its time,
Is so sublime.
But will not be contained.
It gives to us its ecstasy
Which will not be detained
Past its prime,
Though such as we
May wonder why.
When we realize it's over,
What is there to do?
If we were not the first to know,
We've our raw feelings
Showing through.
Should we then kick and scream,
Hurl blame, spout scorching steam,
And weep and wail
As if to bring it back ?But, no ~ to no avail.
Of course we're sad,
Depressed.
We feel bereft, adrift.
We tried, it left
Without a word.
We're crushed.
We find no rest.
Come back, we shout!
Let’s have it out!
We want no rift.
We cry aloud.
Repeat our hurt.
Defining anguish,
Beat our chest.
Ah! It’s so bittersweet!
To be a part of it,
We let it flee,
So we also can fly
The path it blazed
To its own realm.
We can not bid it,
Hold it down,
Or overwhelm.
When it is ripe it will alight
Where it finds welcome, -
Where it is right.
The morning sky
Is bluest
In the west,
Though farthest
From itself
And its sunrise.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
I've grown a garden
And picked its flowers,
As blossoms out of air.
But days and hours
Of drought impede
Their normal progress there.
This season the daisies
May be scrawny
And roses, all too rare.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
Heavens, open up
Your floors
And shower Earth below.
The dwindled dreams
Await your flow.
Fields and streams
Are thirsty,
So ~
Open up
To wanting Earth below.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
The dawn is drenched
In rain today
No glow shows through
The cracks in space.
The Earth is kissed in mist.
Stream, stretched,
Fields, fattened,
And birds, perhaps
Leave minute tracks
Upon the lmbs
Beside their nests.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
You could be
My Santa Claus
And pause
Some evening
From your holiday
To make my
Wish come true.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
Youth
and age
Intermingle
Without
Complexity.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
We gaze
Back on history
With today's
New jaded eyes,
Seeing men in ruffled shirts
Making laws and starting wars,
Telling bold-faced lies,
Making fools of all of us
When truth they did despise.
Our thoughts fix on our precious goals,
Theirs, on elegant indulgence,
Each, only to disguise
All the shabby grime beneath
The grim and nasty truth.
It's no surprise
If we prefer not knowing them
And wish to charge ahead.
But, - alas, - instead,
We realize and prove, -
From every place of view, -
That we're all simply human too.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
Sylvia Syms sings Noel Coward's "Mad About The Boy"
Love is
The sustenance of angels
And if we mortals
Thrive on it
A little bit,
Perhaps
We're more divine
Than we supposed.
______© Nellieanna H. Hay
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Agree with 'snakeslane', had a great time 'tasting your cabaret style poetry':)
I love the way you present your excellent poetry! It really flows. I hope you put all your poetry hubs into a book some day.
Absolutely, positively beautiful. But then ALL your poetry is! Particularly enjoyed that video of Gary Cooper. Had no idea he was so good-looking as a young man. Even with the ridiculous eye makeup that was used in his earliest films.
Thanks for this treat. Voted way up.
Very beautiful hub, and wonderful poems.
Nellieanna,
Greetings from MAKUSR. Your poetry is like a long distance race. It warms up in the beginning, gathers pace and keeps the momentum and then eases off as it touches the tape. Your choice of illustrations is very good. Voted up!
Lots of Love,
MAKUSR
P.S:- Thanks to Snakeslane for introducing a new poetic form. Cabaret Poetry
Your poetry takes me to a place where time lays still. Really can't describe how your prose makes me feel. Utterly beautiful...
You have such gift and such a perfect gift to put everything so pleasantly. It is always a pleasure reading and seeing your hubs. Thank you, Nellieanna.
If There Is No Obvious Reason,
Hopefully The Question Can Co-Exist....
An Utopia Of Reasons For Me To Find Your Poem To Have Reason Nellianna!;)
Snakeslane - welcome to my hub site! It's lovely to have a new unjaundiced point of view. I sense your brilliance and your response is refreshing! May I discuss it a bit, poet to poet?
You see, I hadn't heard the term "cabaret poetry" and if I had, I doubt I'd have associated with it since most of mine has been wholly private over many decades when the last thing I wanted was to publish it until recently, here on HubPages. I hadn't even intended to publish it here when I first joined.
So my curiosity is piqued. Looking it up, I see that the term is loosely associated with the term "poetry slam" in which apparently amateur poets present their works on stage at bars set up for the purpose, often reciting spontaneously in a manner similar to karaoke singers at bars where wannabes have a chance to show their talents before live audiences. Again, that seems rather unlike my style - but then, I've never really classified my style. Perhaps you're onto something! :-)
Whatever I do, I have a habit of coordinating various ideas that come to me if they seem related, as in a bunch of my poetry hubs here. Hubpages has been virtually my first public showing of any of them. Perhaps it qualifies as sort of a cabaret for the amateur performance of unknown writers such as I. Interesting thought.
I did find a reference to esteemed poet Maya Angelou in the context of her early cabaret experience, so I can't quibble with that. In her youth she performed as a dancer in the Purple Onion cabaret and perhaps garnered some attention for her poetic talents while there. Also in the Elizabethan Age writers performed their works on stages in raucous establishments, not unlike modern cabarets! I'm thinking this may be becoming a new genre, if not of the poetry itself, at least of its mode of presentation! Amazing. Just amazing.
Thank you for the whole comment. I was so pleased to unearth those videos of the Noel Coward song. I had been browsing a site about beautiful balinese cats and when they showed a male "King", they played the song and I thought, "That's IT !"- just what I wanted for the hub that was materializing. I had to 'kiss a lot of frogs' to find those versions that suited. One of my criteria for music on a hub is that it can be played right on the hub, rather than referring my readers to the utube site, as many of their selections now do. Somehow that defeats the purpose, from my standpoint. So if I can't find a suitable version which I like which can be opened here, I just skip it. So these were both real 'finds'!
Thank YOU so much for coming and giving me so much good food for thought!
Beata - Thank you! I always picture Western Australia's magnificence when I see your name! It's a visit on my bucket list! I appreciate your visiting and having fun with this!
Lela - I value your opinion highly. Thank you for that strong vote of confidence in my poetry! One reason I present it as I do is that it actually flowed as it came forth. Seldom have I just sat down to 'write a poem'. Instead, when one flows forth, often there are many more in its wake. One reason I waited so long to share any of them was that it seemed necessary to isolate them and they just aren't as realistic to me as individual poems for the most part. Hugs for that comment.
DRBJ - When I was a kid, I usually saw Gary Cooper only in his western cowboy roles. His roles before my era were more along the line of the Valentino's and other 'pretty boys' who were all the rage. The actors were groomed for those parts so they had to make him up that way - haha. They never could quite manage it with Clark Gable - his ruggedness always came through. (wink). But yes, Gary Cooper was quite a handsome lad! I enjoyed these photos of him so much, too! Thank you for sharing your enjoyment of them!
Uninvited writer, thank you for the comment and for your own hub on copyrighting! Very valuable! I can't thank you enough for both! Hope to see more of you!
Majusr, dear sweet person! What lovely words. I feel so honored - and happy that you enjoyed my poetry. And yes - the new term for poetry from Snakeslane is so interesting! :-)
Augustine, I'm blown away by that. How wonderful to make such a connection!
Thank you for sharing your responses with me. Hugs. . .
Hello, hello - How pleased I am to see you here! Thank you for that lovely praise!
It's always my pleasure to see you have read and seen my hubs! Big Hugs.
Bryan, thank you. You always make me think! Yes, of course, the question can and will co-exist. But the poem doesn't say there is no MEANING in it, only that reasons exist within what is questioned itself. In fact 'reason' implies a mind-thing and meanings simply ARE. Often the mind questioning also supplies the answers, rather than looking into the 'thing' for them, for the meaning within it.
But there can and should be a kind of acceptance of that 'thing' as its own authority. The human mind is a bit proprietary about everything it takes in or observe, as though it then belongs to it and therefore can be sorted out in the mind, as though our explanations are better than the reality we are observing and what it actually means, itself.
One thing I love about real haiku is that it channels the thought of the poet into that simple reality in observances without benefit of putting it through the maze of so much explanation & elaboration. I've read that a great Zen master, when asked a question by a student about the meaning of life, simply pointed to a frog on a lily pad. Nothing more needed be said or explained, if one but observe with clear vision and let ITSELF demonstrate what IT IS without distortion. . .
It is so nice to be back, to enjoy the beautiful pleasure of getting lost in your words. You are a true delight.
Hello Nellieanna, when I used the word cabaret, I was referring to the staged atmosphere of your presentation, the venue if you will, and not the style of your poetry. These poems do have a musical quality though, like wind chimes moved gently by a fresh breeze, then silence again, and the reader is left to ponder about what's just been heard.
Dave - and it's good to have you back!! I remember our coffee visit with much nostalgia. Maybe if some of us actually do plan and carry off a get-together around here in the future as has been tossed around, you can get back for it. Everyone is so busy, though -no telling when it may happen.
Hugs and thank you for the lovely comment, dear friend.
snakeslane, Ah -I can truly understand that, though I hadn't really thought about it that way. But I suppose it is staged, though the way I develop it, it feels almost organic to me. But of course, it involves choices and sensing preferable relationships as one would in a staging, I'm sure.
Besides when it is offered up to readers, their impressions and effects belong to them, as they should. I'm honored that you have chosen to share yours with me!
I must admit that performing has been foreign to me. I tend to 'stage fright' in such situations, especially involving creative rather than factual presentations, though there's much less of that fright than earlier in my life. I'm no shy violet! :-)
What a lovely simile, - the chimes. And I like when my poetry leaves a reader pondering. Thank you for returning and reading my response - . Yours is rich and much appreciated.
nice collection....some of them really touching
I am simply blown away by your elegance.
Dyhannah - wow - thank you. I am pleased that you think me elegant and how gracious of you to say so!
Thank you for comng by and for leaving your comment, Moneycop. Glad that some of these touched your heart. It's always a poet's hope that some of one's own heart will 'speak' to another's. :-)
Hello Nellieanna. I just had an odd thought. If I comment on a Hub, I feel I am done with it. By not commenting on this Hub, I have been able to come back three times to read your splendid work.
Mike
I'm really flattered, Mike! However, I must disclose the secret: tickets to visit and/or to comment not at all, or repeatedly, impose no requirements nor carry any expiration dates! :-) But when you do choose to comment, you're almost guaranteed a response; - so you can either just read the hub and/or, if any of it interests you, feel free to leave a first or another comment - or even none! ;-)
Please be assured: I do understand that this may be a mental neuron connection pattern of your own, so that if it dictates that you must never return, once you comment, you must feel quite impelled to abide thereby. There, there. . . .
I would not want to interfere in that process, for fear of causing anxiety. You may come and go as you like, with or without commenting or responding to replies to any comments you may or may not choose to post. Is that fair, or what? hehe :->
Thank you for the lovely compliment! I'm honored that you like to - and feel your standards allow you to - return three times and re-read my work! How flattering is that! Um Hum! - Hugs.
Hi, this are beautiful, you always manage to say in few words what others would take a page to write, I particularly liked this one though,
Love is
The sustenance of angels
And if we mortals
Thrive on it
A little bit,
Perhaps
We're more divine
Than we supposed.
That was fantastic, loved them all, nell
Thank you, Nell! That little poem is one of my personal most favorites, too. I'm pleased you like it! Big hugs!
Voted up and beautiful! I love the last little tidbit the most! Your poems are inspiring and thought provoking. Keep it up! :)
Kitty, I appreciate your kind comments and encouragement. Thank you for coming by and reading! Hugs. Glad you enjoyed it. I love that little poem too.
The layout of this page is wonderful. I am impressed by the way you have mastered the art of making your poems look as good on a HubPage as they would in a book.
Story Page, Thank you! I appreciate your taking time to notice my layout. I'm such a combination, I seem impelled to 'pretty it up'.
I've visited your hubpage too, and am quite swept away by the lovely poem I read there! Welcome to Hubpages and I am looking forward t reading more of your work!
I enjoyed the different style voices in the videos while reading your lovely poetry. You have such a beauty in simplicity, and that brings many touching memories, scenes, creativity to mind. Your word expressions are wonderful pathways to many places...
Frogyfish, it pleases me so that you enjoyed the music with the poetry. Thank you for letting me know.
It is so wonderful to know that your Muse lives in you and guides your quill to verse. I am simply a man who writes from my soul, you my dear write from your brain and heart. Your passion is unique, your spirit is amazing. I have followed you for over a year and left comments that you have answered back in content that would fill a hub.
I know this,you are gifted beyond words. Your poetry is heaven sent, your Muse is you. Emily has talent no doubt, but my god, Nellieana Hay will be a remembered name in poetry books in the future. You are majestic, talented, inspirational and much more.
Your praise given to you by us your loyal and dedicated fans are beyond approach. I am blown away by your gifts. Nellieanna keep blessing us with your talent, you inspire me to write. Simply beautiful, I bathe in your words.
Oh, my, Ken! You're such a shot of adrenaline! I am dwarfed among some giants of the pen here. I just do my little thing, but i do it with heart and authenticity. That's what one must do, isn't it?
When it's well received, it is a total joy. So thank you, thank you, thank you. You have been a wonderful follower and fan for all this time, it is so true. And I've been loving watching your poetic muse emerge with such strength and honesty, too. Seems you give whatever you write a unique texture that is all Ken Snowden. Vincent Moore is a mere sidekick, I think ;-> It's Ken who will be remembered with great love and respect for who he is.
Hugs and thank you!
Nellieanna...
I had no idea cabaret style poetry was even a thing...you have rocked it however. I was most pleased to not see any offending ads...I know how you feel about those! You my friend...are quite classy and it shows in your work!
Thomas
Well, Thomas - neither did I! But one must embrace what materializes. ;->
Ads - ugh. Maybe they finally got the hint when I said I didn't want any! It's terribly unnerving to write some ethereal poetry and find an ad for tattoos or hives right next to it. At times I've knocked myself out to try to get those ads to stay in some obscure corner of my hub, to no avail.
I am delighted with your visit and kind words. If you consider me and my work classy, it must be so! Hugs.
Nellieanna, I came laughing from one of your other hubs (the latest), just to be captured in here by such deep truth about another facet of life that – so deep and profound that I simply exploded with tears. Your poems, dearest woman, truly touch the very core of my soul. Always! I will pay a lot of money for them in any kind of book. I will read them like a Bible. You are truly stuffed with wisdom, so able to see right through and down to the bottom of the root of every human issue.
Have a lovely weekend, my dearest mother in Hubland. I know you are loved by many, but I’m sure my love for you is the deepest. Bags and bags of hugs from me to you.
Oh my dear Nellie, how I have missed reading your work and I see you write even more beautifully each day; from where does your inspiration come, I will never know but God may it always be with you for you enlighten our hearts.
Nellie, i am very happy, i am in love; I have found my soul twin, his name is Ragnar; he is my everything and I have never felt this happy or complete. Just last night we were talking about our unconditional love and realising how it is a rarity. As always I loved your collection but two of them particularly touched me:
Love is
The sustenance of angels
And if we mortals
Thrive on it
A little bit,
Perhaps
We're more divine
Than we supposed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your unconditional friendship offer
Totally disarms me.
Please don't spoil it
With conditions.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Martie, my dear! I thought I'd replied to this lovely comment of yours! But I don't see it here! I certainly remember feeling a surge of love and appreciation for you and your sweet words. If I ever get some poems published, you'll get an autographed copy hot off the press! I still plan to make you a handwritten selection as I promised. I don't know about my wisdom but sometimes my muse amazes me with hers. You know that at one time I felt I was called to finish her work and expand on her confines. It gave me some of my purpose in getting out and beyond my own confines. Of course, I realized that was mostly indulgent fantasy but I still feel she's "there" and inspires me at times.
Now I can report that my weekend was lovely but for one event: we had a sudden, swift and damaging hail storm in the night Saturday-Sunday. I didn't realize there was roof damage till some roofers came by, telling me and they got up and inspected it. I just called my insurance folks and set up an appointment for their inspector to come out. So we'll see. At best, I might get the roof replaced and it would take care of some of the squirrel entries. haha. We shall see.
QudsiaP1 - Thank you, dear heart! I don't question where it comes from when I write. If it comes, there it is. If it doesn't - well, I am silent! :-) It's the only way I know to write, especially poetry. The few times I've "tried" produced some of the most awful, trite, boring stuff!
And now! WOW! I could not be any happier to hear you have met your soulmate! How wonderful!
Yes, unconditional real love is a rarity and a treasure. The KEY is "unconditional". So the only thing to be aware of is to avoid making his being your 'everything' a binding - on him or on yourself. One of my favorite accounts comes from a precious little book,"Gift From The Sea", by Anne Morrow Lindberg.
In it, she walks the beach with her daughter and uses the shells and other sea-features to illustrate important life-truths for her. I paraphrased one of these on one of my webpages I did about love:
__________________
"There was a mother who walked along a beach with her teenage daughter.?"They picked up shells and talked of many things.?The subject eventually turned to love.
"After awhile, the girl paused and said,?'OK, there are various ways to attract love.?But, Mother, once one has attracted it, then what??How does one keep it?'
"Still walking along, the mother fell silent.?Then she reached down and scooped up a handful of sand.?She held it forth on her palm toward her daughter,?who looked first at the sand,?then at the enigmatic face of her mother,?then back at the sand as though expecting it to speak,?as it lay there so contentedly.
"Instead she saw her mother's fingers begin to close around the sand?until her hand was becoming a fist.?"The daughter soon began to see sand sifting, ?escaping between her mother's fingers. ?The more tightly her mother squeezed,?the more rapidly the sand ran out and fell to the ground from whence it came.
"Finally, the mother relaxed her grip -?began to unfold her fist and to open her fingers ?- to expose her palm once more.
"But - alas! - on it lay?only a few errant grains sticking to her skin,?of the multitude of sand with which she had begun!
"The daughter gazed at the empty palm.?Then she raised her eyes back to her mother's face,?looked into her eyes as they exchanged knowing looks. ?The daughter finally simply said, 'I see!' "
__________________
In another passage in the little book which is full of great quotes, here is this directly from Anne Morrow Lindberg:
__________________
"When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity – in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.
"The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits – islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides."
__________________
Love is such a wondrous experience and it can last throughout a lifetime. When I found my George, it was like that - and lasted from then till his death, almost 30 years. It does rise and ebb but it always rises again when it is real love. We let each other "be" and didn't demand changes. We did change but it was voluntary and natural, never by expectation or demand on either of our parts. This is the rarity. We had both experienced different kinds of stifling relationships in which demands were the rule and love was snuffed out. Demands needn't be cruel be stifling, though they become felt as cruel. This was a lesson my George and I knew all too well.
snakeslane Level 7 Commenter 7 months ago
Hello Nellieanna I am Mad about your cabaret style poetry presentation complete with lovely photo video of Hollywood heart throb Gary Cooper and two really different versions of a Noel Coward song I've never heard before, but loving it now. Such a gorgeous melange of images and sound. Thank you so much for sharing this.