"Woman's Eyes" (short poem)

"Woman's Eyes"
by Tim Kavi

eyes of the enchantress
others must answer in truth

eyes of a goddess
lit up by love's mercy
kindness and compassion

who can help but be
touched
and moved

to respond in dialogue
with open arms
to say I and Thou!

Poet's Suggestion:  IF you liked this poem, I also penned another special poem about a woman and her pretty eyes-- 'Soft Eyes'-- Click Here to view it.

Dreaming by the Fire (Poem based on a dream from 1988)

"Dreaming by the Fire" (1988)
by Tim Kavi

passionate poets
blown by the wind
old man's vision
reality does bend

into places
you know not
revelealed
like a new truth
in the smoke

everyone was silent
when the
old man
first spoke

circles in the trees
predestined
symmetries
nature's worship
no cruel joke

the patterns are
there
waiting to be
found
if we dare

in the mist
traveling
I beheld
asin a dream

(the Old Man
was in a trance
no one knew
what was meant
as in the fire
winter was about
to be spent)

so we turned
inward
into the collective
dream
among the community
of healers
by the shamanic fire

where I traveled
in the air
across a desert
scene

looking outside
me, down
and above
a sacred place
I felt outside
my body

there was
a temple
with laid stones
in the pathways

where three
medicine men
approached
and did surround

holding forth
their tokens
of healing
in their sacred ground

their hands passed
right through me
into my very being

like phantoms
in the mist
they imparted

their tools
to bring life
and heal the
broken hearted.

Poet's Afterword:

This poem is based on a true dream I had over 20 years ago. I share this special experience in the greatest humility. After the dream and finding a new path in my own life as a mystic, I responded to the call to work as a healer.

I have done that work in a variety of community clinics and hospitals ever since.

Now my words seek through love and restoration to bring peace, love, and healing. I only ask to be used by divine grace to help someone in need, to honor my Native American heritage, and my calling.--T.K.

Power of the Human Kiss

power of the human kiss

Assuredly I say we should never underestimate the power of a human kiss!!

If we kiss we shouldn't always expect a kiss back, but ahhhh..a returned kiss is very powerful I think.

one time I wrote the following poem. A lady read it when it got published. she wrote me afterwards, deeply moved, and said she was a Widow.... it reminded her of the kiss of her dear love now departed. she said she could still feel his kiss...

and when you stop and pause can you feel (even in memory) any mighty kisses in your life?

we start out with the kisses of our mothers (or others who cared for us), then the kisses of a bride might grace our lives, and all along we are kissed by Nature and life...yet human kisses can even transcend time and death!

your kiss
by tim kavi

the absence of your kisses
makes a heart grow more fond
stronger

a new moon
lights the night
I try to make the way

back to your door
my love transcends
the space
and distance
even across time

it finds you again
even if a windy kiss
an embrace
of lovers that are missed

sweet solace
your felt embrace
tells me I have been kissed.

Money Making Opportunities (Poem) with brief Comment

"Money Making Opportunities"
by Tim Kavi

rage
rage against the age
when all the machines
make us a slouch
while
pretending to be happy
credit card
debt
makes us a grouch

lobbies so strong
that we can
no longer afford
medicine's healing song

there's a cave man in the gulch

gentle ones ignored
sitting in brown and red
longing for peace
lines so long
where their money is stored
working till the day before they're dead!

rage
rage
though we sit in quiet still
marching to a drum
of some peaceful man's vigil
we long to see his face again
but he is not there
working man's empty stare
gone to the graveyards where
the great ones rot

there's a cave man in the gulch

so much seriousness
money making deliriousness
stop the presses
I own real estate
stocks and bonds
someone take me serious
clean up my messes
will you?

I can't stop
bleeding money
puking rare bones
passed like kidney stones
they won't let me
it's not funny

there's a laughing man in the gulch

rushing and screaming
shopkeepers and merchants
go scheming
their success
leaves them beaming
as they count
their spoils
who needs war
money is their whore!

sweep the walk
scrub the counters
sweet talk
what for
there's a customer in the store!

there's a laughing man in the gulch

rage
rage
stop this shit
guaranteed unlimited
income is assured
and cemented
just nineteen ninety five
send it to me today
oh happy day

there's a laughing man in the gulch!

poet's brief note:

this poem was written in October of 2007. Well before the economic mess of a year later, and look at this stanza:

so much seriousness
money making deliriousness
stop the presses
I own real estate
stocks and bonds
someone take me serious
clean up my messes
will you?

Now, in light of the mortgage and lending scandal for real estate, this looks almost prophetic? ;-) It also reminds me of my short story American Crow (currently unpublished) also written over a year ago where one of the names of the characters "Ryan Newhouse" is an indictment of the whole real estate thing as a dying corpse, at a time when the media didn't know about it, or report it like they are now. Among the points that this story makes, is an inditement of American capitalism and youth that is being destroyed by an erosion of basic human values such as personal interconnectedness. American capitalism is marked by a black crow like nature seeking, its former greatness that has been compromised by enemies that are more subtle than those the armies are fighting. Among the enemies are blind materialism and a byproduct of overinflated wealth, the laziness of a culture of leisure. --T.K.

Blog Special: Homecoming. A New Poem About Loss in War.

"Homecoming"
by Tim Kavi

in the streets
there was once happpy
gladness
now there are endless
mourning songs
making what's
left to life
seem like
eternal sadness

bleeding wrongs
for what is right?

what songs
are these

but those who come
home from war?
(all wars)

in a land
far away
where treated
like strangers

there is so unwelcome
a rest
as this?

death speaks truth
but I want
the lies of love

I want them
to tell me you
came home to me
that this
is all just
some big mistake

I have only
your memories
as a felt embrace
and an empty bed
where once you
took your place

but let me not
be selfish
and tell you
for sure
I still love
you

and never forget
that you loved
me too

to the very
last breath.

Poet's Afterword:
This poem was previously unpublished. It was very emotional to write. I was consumed with depression and loss. Yes it is about loss in war, but it could also be about a lost love, which is a war sometimes, of another sort. -- T.K.

gentle mother (new poem with Poet's comments)

"gentle mother"
by tim kavi

(a poem for my mother on her 80th birthday)

gentle mother
sings softly
her smiling face
in view

pink babies
look back
gentle mother
grateful for the likes
of you

breezes soft
as rose petals
with garments
warm and blue

as my gentle
mother guides
each day anew

later I watch
graceful dealings
constant revealings
of a love
so true

always life long
we remember
our mothers

for how can we
forget
their comforts
when away
our troubles flew?

oh my gentle
mother
without you
what would I do?

lost hopelessly
in flight
from the nest
but your sweet guidance
is always there,

from the one who
loves me the best!

Poet's comment's

this poem was written live on my mother's 80th birthday. After writing it on her birthday, I then read it aloud to her on her special day. (Now about five weeks ago). My mom has been a very important person in my life. Much of my compassion for others comes from her.

There is a change in person in the middle of this poem and it is intentional. It switches from a third person point of view (babies) to an assertion of self (first person), and how a mother is perceived. It is an intentional shift, because in a sense we assert an independent identity and sense of self as we relate to our mothers and other early caregivers.

You can see that shift in the last few stanzas of the poem which includes terms like 'I" and "me". In psychology, there is a theoiry called object relations theory. Although I cannot discuss the theory itself in a fuller sense, it basically states that the role of the mother (or a nurturing other) is so important to infantile development that the baby's sense of self begins to develop as he or she peers/experiences the mother and begins to see her as another person distinct and seperate from themselves. As the infant develops and this is a loving interaction, the infant feels more secure in their separation from others and begins also to define themselves as a separate person.

In this poem, when I sat down to write I tried to imagine this process in a sense, how it might feel to be a loved baby and then to feel that sense of perceiving a loved and loving mother.

That is why the poem ends the way it does with a sense of self asserted so strongly. There is much more sentiment of appreciation in the poem such as a lifelong sense of feeling cared for as well. -- T.K.

Blog Special: "Immigrant's Journey" (New Previously Unpublished Poem) with Comments by Poet

"Immigrant's Journey"
by Tim Kavi

treacherous journey
nature itself
fought her in elements
as barriers
to her own progress

languages disparate
cultures askew
she embraced
the edge of all of it

the dazzling beauty
saw her
tears in the snow

the sled continued
the dogs pulled
it to the
horizon

where the dawn's
sun
was gracefully appearing

all her disappointments
must melt
in the light

of the upcoming spring
as she advanced
to the newland

of hope
and promise
and love

if that was found
it was all
she could hope for

the founding
the discovering
the happiness

of a new place
called home.

poet's comment:

this poem can be described thus:

answering a poem with a briefer poem

in the painted
landscapes of
consciousness
we are all like this

but to the lovely
immigrant we know the
sure dance
of the sure acceptance
of new identity and consciousness!

I say this:

this poem is really about the journeys of consciousness and human strivings for and achievement of potential and development
life is a journey
love is a journey
many aspects of life are journeys

yet it is also the conscious unfolding of our unconscious aspects
of identity
moving from winter to spring
from night to day
from shadow to light

it is the attainment of that which is hoped for!

this poem is as much about the uncovering of the anima in men and the animus in women as anything else...

by the way, I am touched by my own immigrants who came here from other lands to America. In fact my grandfather's family the 'Newlands' knew what it was like to come to a New Land. My grandma Newland one of the poetic goddesses in my own life taught me much about hope in everyday existence! (hence the term Newland used in the poem has a double meaning (double entendre)--as it shows the two words together "New" and "Land" as 'newland' in the poem this is by design. as this stanza shows:

of the upcoming spring
as she advanced
to the newland


as such this poem is not only a testament to all immigrants, (and immigrants of the soul's journey), but also to my Ancestors and their struggles to come here.

--T.K.