Green Turtle
Oh green green turtle
So hard is your shell
Which covers but cannot protect
Happy, you say, Alive
Yet how would you know
Folded up and tucked away
Existing
Moving but only enough to
Strengthen your shell
Oh green green turtle
Snapping at foliage
Without ever seeing its beauty
You digest it
It sustains you-Yet for what
Your existence is but reflections in a lake
To easily destroyed
Out, I’ve seen you out
Meandering slowly along
Preparing at every turn to vanish
Inside that hard green shell
Scared, cracked, squared, happy, you say
Yet you hide from raindrops and ravens
From eagles that rush down only to, “say move or die.”
Turtle green green turtle Ohhhh
So hard is your shell.
Richard Nedervelt
1996
Fanning the Flames
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Back to the Beat
Back to the Beat
So many times have I feed lines onto paper,
mixing metaphors like hard drinks that intoxicate.
How many times have I spoke of waking,
breathing, living, and understanding?
But in verse, I’ve fought so hard within myself,
that I forgot the beat.
I forgot the pulse of this world and the tragedies
that scrape us along un-leveled sidewalks like leaves,
lifting us up only to let us plummet to the man made plains below.
I’ve shared my awakening, and poetic stance, but did I stretch my ideas out
or feed parchment with anything that would last longer than a moment
of passionate theories and thought which I’ve written.
Political entities speak of change then jump on bullet trains to nowhere.
They break promises like breaking bread and see no difference in doing either.
On Sunday the blood of the Father is forgotten and varying bottles are held
in deep embrace as if these particular lovers will return their tight embrace.
I forgot to gather on the streets,and in the pubs,
and on top of overturned soap boxes.
I forgot to get angry, and fight back, and to gather together an army of minds to start change, create change, to be change.
As I sit here reading the voices of the past,
I remember that I too have so much I’d like to say, and do,and write of, until my lead hits erasure or my pen runs dry, or that my computer runs out of memory.
I need to find my own beat, to my own song, to share in my life time.
I want to live big, fight hard, and Love deeply
until minds and paper and heart are filled
so we never forget
and the beat goes on.....
Richard Nedervelt
So many times have I feed lines onto paper,
mixing metaphors like hard drinks that intoxicate.
How many times have I spoke of waking,
breathing, living, and understanding?
But in verse, I’ve fought so hard within myself,
that I forgot the beat.
I forgot the pulse of this world and the tragedies
that scrape us along un-leveled sidewalks like leaves,
lifting us up only to let us plummet to the man made plains below.
I’ve shared my awakening, and poetic stance, but did I stretch my ideas out
or feed parchment with anything that would last longer than a moment
of passionate theories and thought which I’ve written.
Political entities speak of change then jump on bullet trains to nowhere.
They break promises like breaking bread and see no difference in doing either.
On Sunday the blood of the Father is forgotten and varying bottles are held
in deep embrace as if these particular lovers will return their tight embrace.
I forgot to gather on the streets,and in the pubs,
and on top of overturned soap boxes.
I forgot to get angry, and fight back, and to gather together an army of minds to start change, create change, to be change.
As I sit here reading the voices of the past,
I remember that I too have so much I’d like to say, and do,and write of, until my lead hits erasure or my pen runs dry, or that my computer runs out of memory.
I need to find my own beat, to my own song, to share in my life time.
I want to live big, fight hard, and Love deeply
until minds and paper and heart are filled
so we never forget
and the beat goes on.....
Richard Nedervelt
What if I Forgot?
What if I Forgot
What if I forgot everything and nothing was the same?
What if I closed my eyes and let go of the pain?
What if I remembered a different time and place?
What if I created a new outer space?
What if mother never did and father never said?
What if all my brothers were erased from my head?
What if all the pets I knew were never given names?
What if all my life so far -vanished- and my stories were not claimed?
What if I turned back the clocks or changed red into green?
What if I replayed a movie and rearranged each scene?
What if I believe that who - I am - I’m not.
And I transform my life, right here in this very spot?
Who would ever question what is false and what is real?
Could I change all that I know, and would I possibly be healed?
What if I imagine new thoughts and believe them with my heart?
Could I metamorphosis what’s broke- into a work of art?
What if I refuse my past without ever looking back?
Could I be?
Could I see?
A new me....... Perfectly intact
Richard Nedervelt
Sept 7, 2008
What if I forgot everything and nothing was the same?
What if I closed my eyes and let go of the pain?
What if I remembered a different time and place?
What if I created a new outer space?
What if mother never did and father never said?
What if all my brothers were erased from my head?
What if all the pets I knew were never given names?
What if all my life so far -vanished- and my stories were not claimed?
What if I turned back the clocks or changed red into green?
What if I replayed a movie and rearranged each scene?
What if I believe that who - I am - I’m not.
And I transform my life, right here in this very spot?
Who would ever question what is false and what is real?
Could I change all that I know, and would I possibly be healed?
What if I imagine new thoughts and believe them with my heart?
Could I metamorphosis what’s broke- into a work of art?
What if I refuse my past without ever looking back?
Could I be?
Could I see?
A new me....... Perfectly intact
Richard Nedervelt
Sept 7, 2008
Sunday, August 29, 2010
The Truth
The Truth
Truth is a smile not a story.
It is in this moment and not in the
Retelling of what has passed.
Stories
Are memories that remind us that we are alive.
They remind of us that we have lived and
They remind us that we are not alone.
Lies
Are when we deceive ourselves
That living is anything but beautiful...
Even in a monsoon.
Richard J, Nedervelt
Truth is a smile not a story.
It is in this moment and not in the
Retelling of what has passed.
Stories
Are memories that remind us that we are alive.
They remind of us that we have lived and
They remind us that we are not alone.
Lies
Are when we deceive ourselves
That living is anything but beautiful...
Even in a monsoon.
Richard J, Nedervelt
The Power in Me.
The Power in Me
(Emmanuel)
Look what I’ve found
Can you believe?
All this time right here with me.
The Power to be, the Power in me
To be whatever, I choose to be.
Ten times stronger and just as wise
By loving myself, I’ve learned how to fly.
No longer filled with doubt and hate
I’ve changed my mind, and so changed my fate.
Listen now as the morning lark sings
And take flight as he spreads his wings
For whatever I ask will come to be
If, I simply trust the Power in Me.
Richard Nedervelt
Code of Silence Deep Within 1988
(Emmanuel)
Look what I’ve found
Can you believe?
All this time right here with me.
The Power to be, the Power in me
To be whatever, I choose to be.
Ten times stronger and just as wise
By loving myself, I’ve learned how to fly.
No longer filled with doubt and hate
I’ve changed my mind, and so changed my fate.
Listen now as the morning lark sings
And take flight as he spreads his wings
For whatever I ask will come to be
If, I simply trust the Power in Me.
Richard Nedervelt
Code of Silence Deep Within 1988
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Living in the Breath
I was thinking about the energy here in Hawaii and the beliefs of the people and their ancestors. The next thing I knew these words came forth, I hope you, the reader, enjoy them.
"Living in the breath, standing in the waters, the Divine presence is all around us.
"Living in the breath, standing in the waters, the Divine presence is all around us.
It is like a cool strong breeze flowing around, beside, and through me."
When I am balanced within, even the strongest storm cannot move me from where I stand, for I am purified by my thoughts, forgiven by myself, and loved by the Beloved. I stand on the land as if resting in the hand of the Creator, and do nothing to the land I would not do to the Beloved. Here in this moment, I am like night and day sharing the Heavens. In sharing my space, my breath rises and falls, like a deep breathe uttering, “ALOHA…”
Richard Nedervelt 08/17/2010
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