Our feet sinking softly on the white sands,
of the peninsula's carbonate shore,
our loving clasping hands,
we all of each other so adore.
Walking on land that the Miocene Epoch brought,
where rock is ground offshore, onshore and alongshore,
for each other we are fraught,
with gems of heart and mind, loving to explore more and more.
The ocean tide gently rippling o'er our feet,
and Helios gently kissing our skin aglow,
when we're together, all is so complete,
and our feelings and thoughts simply flow.
The ocean air caressing our senses,
the sound of waves falling and nearing
the ocean mists on our cool skin condenses,
despite passions deep within us searing.
When Uranus is farthest from our Earth,
we shall stride together in harmony,
basking in each other's mirth,
rivalling even the holiest matrimony.
At sunset, one of the gentlest kisses we shall share,
to each other we are eternally drawn,
resting upon our shoulders all of my longer hair,
until, emerging in the sky, the son of the Titanic goddess of dawn.
Hesperus, the evening star, mirroring our own beaming,
and later the waxing moon visits,
touching each other, proof of our not dreaming.
Eos, with her rosy fingers fidgets.
She opens the gates of heaven,
so that Apollo can ride his chariot across the sky,
the beauty of the night to us god-given,
our exquisite love as perfect as infinity and pi.
by
Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Mein Gedankenabenteuer
Der Geruch von Graphit und Holz.
Der sanfte Klang von Gekritzel auf Papier
hörbar über dem Summen der Fliegen
und getrennt von dem Ticken der Uhr.
Die Stille dazwischen ist erkennbar
wie die Vakuumräume zwischen Atomen der Materie.
Wenn ich mich noch mehr konzentrieren könnte
würde ich den Klang der Gedanken hören.
Mit jedem Atemzug von ruhiger Luft
und jeden Strahl von Sonnenlicht auf meinen Augen,
ist den Gehirn angetrieben.
Und dann ein Seufzer—das Produkt der Gedanken ausgeatmet.
Gedanken unterbrechen die enorme Stille.
Jeder Gedanke, pur und ungetrübt.
Nervenzellen von diversen zerebralen Räumen
finden einen Weg sich klar zu verbinden.
Dieser Einsamkeit ermöglicht die Freude
mit der ich immer tiefer in der Mathematik eintauchen.
Bei jeder Ebene tauscht man durch Abstraktion
das Konkrete für mentale Mobilität.
Zahlen werden eigentlich weniger.
Es handelt sich mehr über symbolisierter Ideen und Zusammenhängen.
Das Abenteuer ist das Finden eines Weges von etwas Bekanntem
durch das Unbekannte vielleicht zurück zu einem anderen Bekannten.
von
Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
31 August 2009
Der sanfte Klang von Gekritzel auf Papier
hörbar über dem Summen der Fliegen
und getrennt von dem Ticken der Uhr.
Die Stille dazwischen ist erkennbar
wie die Vakuumräume zwischen Atomen der Materie.
Wenn ich mich noch mehr konzentrieren könnte
würde ich den Klang der Gedanken hören.
Mit jedem Atemzug von ruhiger Luft
und jeden Strahl von Sonnenlicht auf meinen Augen,
ist den Gehirn angetrieben.
Und dann ein Seufzer—das Produkt der Gedanken ausgeatmet.
Gedanken unterbrechen die enorme Stille.
Jeder Gedanke, pur und ungetrübt.
Nervenzellen von diversen zerebralen Räumen
finden einen Weg sich klar zu verbinden.
Dieser Einsamkeit ermöglicht die Freude
mit der ich immer tiefer in der Mathematik eintauchen.
Bei jeder Ebene tauscht man durch Abstraktion
das Konkrete für mentale Mobilität.
Zahlen werden eigentlich weniger.
Es handelt sich mehr über symbolisierter Ideen und Zusammenhängen.
Das Abenteuer ist das Finden eines Weges von etwas Bekanntem
durch das Unbekannte vielleicht zurück zu einem anderen Bekannten.
von
Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
31 August 2009
Monday, 7 February 2011
The finest gold is in our hearts to hold
Fractal divine trees defining the horizon,
Silhouetted black against the golden glow of eventide,
With Helios, most precious liaison,
To thee, god of sun, I abide.
I forfeit the splendour of landscape colour, to glory in your gold,
So colourful your glory, backscattered circular in the fine mist,
Handsome Titan with shining halo I so dearly behold,
The depths of my soul feel so kissed.
So precious is this, within us the alchemist
Strives to distill this divine elixir,
Contain it in flagons, so that in darkness we spray its mist,
In our illusion that we could harness the powers of Excalibur.
We crave its tangibility and bow to Khrysos, god of gold,
The metal, cold to hold, soft and noble, brilliantly gleams,
Mining deep the dark earth for its treasures gold, toiling hard and bold,
To all our material urges quelling it seems.
But those that greed to own it, possessing
like Midas, that everything turn golden that he touches,
becoming starved of what truly is nurturing and progressing,
and for the antithesis thereafter he beseeches.
Pindar says of gold: “…neither moth nor rust devoureth it;
But the mind of man is devoured by this supreme possession.”
The dark Brocken spectre is but a shadow of a summit unlit,
No gold that we in our hands can hold can defy the darkness demon procession.
We seek and seek, seeking the philosopher’s stone,
As we seek, we perpetuate our torment,
For the jewel of happiness is realized in the serenity of being alone,
And in not seeking, and not grasping; by letting be, inviting enlightenment.
Redemption of Midas’ curse,
The river sands turn to gold,
Making light the purse,
So that light can fill the heart of fortunes untold.
Facing our darkness demons ,
Having the courage to be with the pain,
Summoning the wealth of our acumens,
To liberate us from being possessed by demons of gain.
Having gratitude for time and fortitude for patience,
Helios will again ride his chariot across Theia’s canvas,
Without suffering we could not be granted our sentience,
Without blackness we cannot know lightness.
But even in the darkness of the universe,
Selene brings the sun’s light from other people’s day,
In her silver chariot, dragon-pulled, across the sky she will traverse,
And stars twinkle their old light, red, blue and gold, from far far away.
Often we will be embraced by Helios on one side and Selene on the other,
And then she radiates Helios’ glory to us in the dark,
Reflecting the beauty of her brother, who is illuminating the beauty of their mother,
But she will cycle herself between us and her brother, and be dark.
When we are embraced by her, she will end her journey spectacular,
On the horizon, all her beautiful cratered features bathed in the pink of dawning,
Solar gold splendour like a rose unfolding, rays through clouds heavenly crepuscular,
And the day is born to us, all its possibilities to us yawning.
by
Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
13 December 2009
Silhouetted black against the golden glow of eventide,
With Helios, most precious liaison,
To thee, god of sun, I abide.
I forfeit the splendour of landscape colour, to glory in your gold,
So colourful your glory, backscattered circular in the fine mist,
Handsome Titan with shining halo I so dearly behold,
The depths of my soul feel so kissed.
So precious is this, within us the alchemist
Strives to distill this divine elixir,
Contain it in flagons, so that in darkness we spray its mist,
In our illusion that we could harness the powers of Excalibur.
We crave its tangibility and bow to Khrysos, god of gold,
The metal, cold to hold, soft and noble, brilliantly gleams,
Mining deep the dark earth for its treasures gold, toiling hard and bold,
To all our material urges quelling it seems.
But those that greed to own it, possessing
like Midas, that everything turn golden that he touches,
becoming starved of what truly is nurturing and progressing,
and for the antithesis thereafter he beseeches.
Pindar says of gold: “…neither moth nor rust devoureth it;
But the mind of man is devoured by this supreme possession.”
The dark Brocken spectre is but a shadow of a summit unlit,
No gold that we in our hands can hold can defy the darkness demon procession.
We seek and seek, seeking the philosopher’s stone,
As we seek, we perpetuate our torment,
For the jewel of happiness is realized in the serenity of being alone,
And in not seeking, and not grasping; by letting be, inviting enlightenment.
Redemption of Midas’ curse,
The river sands turn to gold,
Making light the purse,
So that light can fill the heart of fortunes untold.
Facing our darkness demons ,
Having the courage to be with the pain,
Summoning the wealth of our acumens,
To liberate us from being possessed by demons of gain.
Having gratitude for time and fortitude for patience,
Helios will again ride his chariot across Theia’s canvas,
Without suffering we could not be granted our sentience,
Without blackness we cannot know lightness.
But even in the darkness of the universe,
Selene brings the sun’s light from other people’s day,
In her silver chariot, dragon-pulled, across the sky she will traverse,
And stars twinkle their old light, red, blue and gold, from far far away.
Often we will be embraced by Helios on one side and Selene on the other,
And then she radiates Helios’ glory to us in the dark,
Reflecting the beauty of her brother, who is illuminating the beauty of their mother,
But she will cycle herself between us and her brother, and be dark.
When we are embraced by her, she will end her journey spectacular,
On the horizon, all her beautiful cratered features bathed in the pink of dawning,
Solar gold splendour like a rose unfolding, rays through clouds heavenly crepuscular,
And the day is born to us, all its possibilities to us yawning.
by
Quirina Roode-Gutzmer
13 December 2009
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