Poetry Hour: Recent Episodes
Jen Nguyen
If my heart can speak, these are the words. Tune in daily to listen to poetry reading. Do you have a poem you will like to be feature on our podcast? Send it here and I will read it.
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Lim Hyunsik - Dear Love English Translation Dear love, you, who is involved with me Please don't be in pain because I'll be in pain too Oh my love, how is the sky where you are? Are you also looking at the moon And longing for me? Across the vast universe, far away Wherever in the world we are We can see and feel love, faster than the speed of light My love We will hold each other once again And become the perfect love In the end, we will meet As we did when we first met We should be in love There is no space between us Don't worry Because we're not coincidence, we're destiny Dear love, you, who is involved with me Don't change, I don't wanna change My love Across the vast universe, far away Wherever in the world we are We can see and feel love, faster than the speed of light My love We will hold each other once again And become the perfect love In the end, we will meet As we did when we first met We should be in love Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah We should be in love
COPYRIGHT: Writer(s): Hyun Sik Lim
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, ‘Yes.’
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. By Oriah Mountain Dreamer
Before I go on with this short history, let me make a general observation– the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise. This philosophy fitted on to my early adult life, when I saw the improbable, the implausible, often the "impossible," come true. F. Scott Fitgerald
For what it’s worth... it’s never too late, or in my case too early, to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. Start whenever you want. You can change or stay the same. There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before. I hope you meet people who have a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of, and if you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start over again. F. Scott Fitzgerald
I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything. F. Scott Fitzgerald
All I Ever Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten," by Robert Fulgham All of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in Kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school. These are the things I learned... Share everything. Play fair. Don't hit people. Put things back where you found them. Clean up your own mess. Don't take things that aren't yours. Say sorry when you hurt somebody. Wash your hands before you eat. Flush. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you. Give them to someone who feels sad. Live a balanced life. Learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day. Take a nap every afternoon. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the plastic cup? The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that. Everything you need to know is in there somewhere. And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out into the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together.
“If Life is a Question Mark” by Tyler Knott Gregson What if all we have ever wanted isn’t hiding in some secret and far away dream but inside of us now as we breathe one another and find home in the way our arms always seem to fit perfectly around the spaces between us? What if we are the answer and love is the question? What if all this time it was us you were supposed to find? I am filled with wonderings and questions and doubt but of one thing I am certain: it will always be you that gives flight to the butterflies inside me, calm to the sea I have become and hope to the darkness all around us. It is you and it has always been you... You that soothes and excites and spreads joy like rainfall on the already damp earth; You that pulled me from the longest sleep and kissed my tired eyelids awake. If life were a question mark, then you my love are the proud and bold period that is typed with certainty.
From “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coehlo “We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.”
Promise Yourself
To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.
To make all your friends feel that there is something in them To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.
To think only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best. To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.
To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words but great deeds. To live in faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you. Christian D. Larson, Your Forces and How to Use Them
“Only once in your life, I truly believe, you find someone who can completely turn your world around. You tell them things that you’ve never shared with another soul and they absorb everything you say and actually want to hear more. You share hopes for the future, dreams that will never come true, goals that were never achieved and the many disappointments life has thrown at you. When something wonderful happens, you can’t wait to tell them about it, knowing they will share in your excitement. They are not embarrassed to cry with you when you are hurting or laugh with you when you make a fool of yourself. Never do they hurt your feelings or make you feel like you are not good enough, but rather they build you up and show you the things about yourself that make you special and even beautiful. There is never any pressure, jealousy or competition but only a quiet calmness when they are around. You can be yourself and not worry about what they will think of you because they love you for who you are. The things that seem insignificant to most people such as a note, song or walk become invaluable treasures kept safe in your heart to cherish forever. Memories of your childhood come back and are so clear and vivid it’s like being young again. Colours seem brighter and more brilliant. Laughter seems part of daily life where before it was infrequent or didn’t exist at all. A phone call or two during the day helps to get you through a long day’s work and always brings a smile to your face. In their presence, there’s no need for continuous conversation, but you find you’re quite content in just having them nearby. Things that never interested you before become fascinating because you know they are important to this person who is so special to you. You think of this person on every occasion and in everything you do. Simple things bring them to mind like a pale blue sky, gentle wind or even a storm cloud on the horizon. You open your heart knowing that there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible. You find that being vulnerable is the only way to allow your heart to feel true pleasure that’s so real it scares you. You find strength in knowing you have a true friend and possibly a soul mate who will remain loyal to the end. Life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile. Your only hope and security is in knowing that they are a part of your life.” Bob Marley
Seo In Guk – Seasons of the Heart English Translation
Like a seasonal cold, I’m sick over you Without fail, without exception It’s hard even to breathe So how can I smile? How can I forget you? I won’t expect anything You just need to come to me as if nothing happened You’re my yesterday, today and tomorrow Like the sunlight of memories, like the stars that protect the night You come to me familiarly, every day You’re my spring, summer, fall and winter In between the seasons, I’m left all alone Far away without a single trace Cause I Love You Cause I Love You The wind that blows between us Will it connect us even after time passes? I won’t expect anything You just need to come to me as if nothing happened You’re my yesterday, today and tomorrow Like the sunlight of memories, like the stars that protect the night You come to me familiarly, every day You’re my spring, summer, fall and winter In between the seasons, I’m left all alone Far away without a single trace Cause I Love love love love love love This moment Cause I Love love love love love love You’re My Love My heart that I barely emptied, it’s filled again It shakes up my heart The more I hurt, the more I want you You’re my eyes, words, breath Without you I can’t live a single day I’m calling out to you like this After the long spring, summer, fall and winter As long as the wind quickly runs over I hope you’ll long for me, though we’re far apart Cause I Love love love love love love This moment Cause I Love love love love love love You’re My Love
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
“Maybe home is somebody’s smile when they look at you for the first time, and it’s like they want to love loving you for the rest of their life. Maybe home is someone’s arms after a long tiring day, and all they need to say is that you’re okay for their words to find a home in your heart. Maybe home is a person’s heartbeat, and you feel happy that this person that you love so much is alive and lying in bed next to you with nothing else to do because it’s a rainy Sunday afternoon. Maybe home is listening to the lyrics of your favorite songs and think they make so much sense than what you write in your diary, your text messages, or your list of gentle reminders for yourself when you can’t seem to get a grip on things. Maybe home is a warm puppy in your hands, and you never want to let go because you never touched something so beautiful, so tender, so precious. Maybe home is being a home to something you love and adore with all your heart, and that’s what life, friendship, and romance are all about. Or maybe home is walking down the street, and you see an old friend and nothing has changed, and for the moment you are reminiscing about the past how it felt simple, more understandable, and it was like time was infinite, like there was more of it than your present days. Maybe home is the way you see things, love things, and make them better than you have found them because you care for them, and that’s why you find yourself lost in all the love that you keep overgiving. Because maybe after all this time, home has been inside your loving heart all along.”
“Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This new day is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson
Smiling is infectious, you catch it like the flu. When someone smiled at me today I started smiling, too.
I passed around the corner and someone saw my grin. When he smiled, I realized, I'd passed it on to him.
I thought about my smile and then I realized its worth. A single smile like mine could travel right around the earth.
If you feel a smile begin don't leave it undetected. Let's start an epidemic quick and get the world infected.
When things go wrong as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all up hill, When the funds are low and the debts are high And you want to smile, but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit, Rest if you must, but don't you quit. Life is strange with its twists and turns As every one of us sometimes learns And many a failure comes about When he might have won had he stuck it out; Don't give up though the pace seems slow— You may succeed with another blow. Success is failure turned inside out— The silver tint of the clouds of doubt, And you never can tell just how close you are, It may be near when it seems so far; So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit— It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.
Awakening Now (Danna Faulds)
Why wait for your awakening? Do you value your reasons for staying small more than the light shining through the open door? Forgive yourself, Forgive yourself. Now is the only time you have to be whole. Now. Now is the sole moment that exists to live in the light of your true nature. Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain. Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain. Please, oh please, don't continue to believe in your stories of deficiency and failure. This is the day of your awakening.
Picking Blueberries (Mary Oliver)
Once, in summer, In the blueberries, I fell asleep, and woke When a deer stumbled against me.
I guess She was so busy with her own happiness She had grown careless And was just wandering along
Listening To the wind as she leaned down To lip up the sweetness. So, there we were
With nothing between us But a few leaves, and the wind's Glossy voice Shouting instructions.
The deer Backed away finally And flung up her white tail And went floating off toward the trees -
But the moment before she did that Was so wide and so deep It has lasted to this day; I have only to think of her -
The flower of her amazement And the stalled breath of her curiosity, And even the damp touch of her solicitude Before she took flight-
To be absent again from this world And alive, again, in another, For thirty years sleepy and amazed,
Rising out of the rough weeds Listening and looking. Beautiful girl, Where are you?
Self-Observation Without Judgment (Danna Faulds)
Release the harsh and pointed inner voice. it's just a throwback to the past, and holds no truth about this moment.
Let go of self-judgment, the old, learned ways of beating yourself up for each imagined inadequacy.
Allow the dialogue within the mind to grow friendlier, and quiet. Shift out of inner criticism and life suddenly looks very different.
i can say this only because I make the choice a hundred times a day to release the voice that refuses to acknowledge the real me.
What's needed here isn't more prodding toward perfection, but intimacy - seeing clearly, and embracing what I see.
Love, not judgment, sows the seeds of tranquility and change. From “One Soul”
The Journey
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do– determined to save the only life you could save.
–Mary Oliver
THE PROMISE
In this presence beyond presence,
In this place that is no place at all,
In this warm embrace I call myself,
Even a ‘no’ is a secret yes,
Even resistance is deeply allowed,
Even doubt is a celebration of life.
Come, all you unloved creatures,
All you homeless waves in life’s vast ocean,
Pain, doubt, shame, guilt,
All you frightened orphans of light,
Crawl out of your hiding places,
Shuffle out of the darkness,
You are invited to a great feast.
Come, uncertainty, sit by my side,
Come, despair, drink from my cup,
Come, fear, do not be afraid of me,
I will not turn away from you,
I will not deny you a place at this table,
Now that I know the truth of myself.
I invited you here, long ago.
I have an ancient promise to keep.
A POEM FOR NO-ONE
Who has been wearing these shoes?
Who has been walking in these footsteps?
Who eats this breakfast?
Speaks these words? Breathes? Moves as I do?
Who has known both the mountains of bliss and the valleys of total disillusionment?
Who has journeyed into the abyss and come out unbroken on the other side?
Who has suffered both the joy of pain and the pain of ecstasy?
Who has never abandoned me, throughout nirvana, samsara and those unspeakable realms of light?
Who has taken the hand of the child, the unloved one, the frightened one, the dying one?
Who is both the lover and the beloved and the imaginary gulf between them?
Who has cradled the entire universe in its arms?
Who is closer than the most intimate sensation?
Who asks these questions that cannot ever be answered, and delights in asking them anyway?
Whose music is it that I hear from dawn until dusk?
Is it You who wears these shoes?
Is it You who breathes these dying breaths?
Is it You I return to?
Is it You I never left?
Once, in pursuit of You, I ran from You.
I ran from these shoes and from the surfaces of things.
I ran from all that I judged as mere appearance.
I ran from the simple wonder of waking up in the morning to a fresh new day, not knowing what was to come.
But now, I run no more.
I can no longer seek, or escape, what I already am.
I have been gutted, turned inside out, replaced by gratitude,
and left not knowing why I ever doubted this miracle in the first place.
Love, knowing that the one you love may not be here tomorrow,
knowing that today may be your last day to truly meet,
knowing that you cannot know how the story ends.
For what is left in this life if you have nothing to lose?
Care, care deeply, care until it hurts, care in spite of what people say,
in spite of ridicule and rejection and being misunderstood,
care so much that you no longer care what happens to you.
Sink, sink willingly, into this bitter-sweet mystery of love,
never knowing what love is and loving anyway,
like a fool, like a fascinated child, like a madman,
like one who has forgotten how to be cynical, or how to be right.
Love until your voice trembles, and your heart pounds, and your legs shake,
and your philosophies crumble to dust, and your cleverness bows its head in shame and in reverence.
And you will be taken to the darkest places,
and your heart will be set on fire by the ones to whom you were never able to open your heart,
and you will be reminded of what you have always, secretly, known:
That in time, you will forget everything, except how to die, and how to love.
The Promise of a Shaman
If you come to me as a victim I will not support you. But, I will have the courage to walk with you through the pain that you are suffering.
I will put you in the fire, I will undress you, and I will sit you on the earth.
I will bathe you with herbs, I will purge you, and you will vomit the rage and the darkness inside you.
I’ll bang your body with good herbs, and I’ll put you to lay in the grass, face up to the sky.
Then, I will blow your crown with sacred ceremonial tobacco to clean the old memories that make you repeat the same behavior.
I will blow your forehead to scare away the thoughts that cloud your vision.
I will blow your throat to release the knot that won’t let you talk.
I will blow your heart to scare away fear, so that it goes far away where it cannot find you.
I will blow your solar plexus to extinguish the fire of the hell you carry inside, and you will know peace.
I will blow with fire your belly to burn the attachments, and the love that was not.
I will blow away the lovers that left you, the children that never came.
I will blow your heart to make you warm, to rekindle your desire to feel, create and start again.
I will blow with force your over your vagina or your penis, to clean the sexual door to your soul.
I will blow away the garbage that you collected trying to love what did not wanted to be loved.
I will use the broom, and the sponge, and the rag, and safely clean all the bitterness inside you.
I will blow your hands to destroy the ties that prevent you from creating.
I will blow your feet to dust and erase the footprints memories, so you can never return to that bad place.
I will turn your body, so your face will kiss the earth.
I will blow your spine from the root to the neck to increase your strength and help you walk upright.
And...I will let you rest. After this... you will cry, and after crying you will sleep and you will dream beautiful and meaningful dreams, and when you wake up, I’ll be waiting for you.
I will smile at you, and you will smile back.
I will offer you food that you will eat with pleasure, tasting life, and I will thank you. Because... what I’m offering today, was offered to me before...when darkness lived within me.
And,after I was healed, I felt the darkness leaving, and I cried.
Then we will walk together, and I will show you my garden, and my plants, and I will take you to the fire again.
And will talk together in a single voice with the blessing of the earth.
And we will shout to the forest the desires of your heart.
And the fire will listen and whisper the echo, and we will create hope together.
And the mountains will listen and whisper the echo, and we will create hope together.
And the rivers will listen and whisper the echo, and we will create hope together.
And the wind will listen and whisper the echo, and we will create hope together.
And then we will bow before the fire, and we will call upon all the visible and invisible guardians.
And you will say thank you to all of them.
And you will say thank you to yourself. And you will say thank you to yourself. And you will say thank you to yourself. ~Author Unknown
I will never be the first of so many things for you. I came too late, after life and love were woven into the tapestry of your existence. I care not about lost firsts, but I will fight, knuckles bloody and teeth sharpened, for your lasts. Take the old firsts and put them to rest, silent below the dirt and ash of all the new ones we will burn through. Take them, but give me the lasts." — Tyler Knott Gregson
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard.
You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves, no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
I believe in love at first sight but I will always believe that the people we love we have loved before. Many, many, many times before and when we stumble through grace and circumstance and that brilliant illusion of choice to finally meet them again, we feel it faster each time through. The one glance that set life alight is two sets of two eyes staring through the layers of lifetimes and stolen glances and first kisses and hands held; the brace against the weight and unrelenting tide of waiting. I believe in love at first sight but am not burdened with the misconception that it's a first sight at all. ~Tyler Knott Gregson
A poem on mindfulness The Guest House
This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they are a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably. He may be clearing you out for some new delight. The dark thought, the shame, the malice. meet them at the door laughing and invite them in. Be grateful for whatever comes. because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
— Jellaludin Rumi,