The March of Time (new poem)

The March of Time (new poem)

by Tim Kavi

relentless and cruel

the march of time

scratches the face

of all that lives

like a stream

becomes a river

opens into the ocean

and is taken up again

to the clouds

Nature claws a foothold

over the abyss

for the rain 

brings a promise

of a flowery kiss

a drink

to the desert

what time has forgot?

eternal love

dotes like a constant 

gardener and scribe

who writes down

the lines of Nature

like a poet

burns in consuming fire

aged and young

are both victims

and reverential fans

of discovery

of what is

promises to be

songs not yet written

and a love to be lived.

There is Nothing, There is Someone (new poem)

 

There is Nothing, There is Someone (new poem)

by Tim Kavi

there is nothing-

ness you say

but I think there is something!

there is war

in the world

but I say we must never give up hope!

there is longing

and loneliness

in the machine minds

of reduced humanity.

until one cries out for connection

there comes a new connection

a springing forth

there is hate and prejudice

all over the world

but I say there! is where

love and binding together

must heal!

there is sickness and pandemic

breeding grounds of fear

there is where we must transcend,

comfort, even ourselves

to live again.

to never be forgotten

to arise from the destruction

with wings of hope

beyond despair!

so, that is something

that is human!

That is what I see there!

in such a world

stand strong in love

for each other

and by each other

we are all we have

each other

to see us, get us,

through

survival of the fittest?

survival of those that love!

Go Not Quietly (new poem)

Go Not Quietly (new poem)

by Tim Kavi

We do not go quietly

into the night

but like bulls in a china shop

there is a great noise

destruction seems predominant

but do not mistake

loudness for anger

for lack of love

or even destructiveness

there are other things

to consider

on the eve of destruction

knowing that gentility

gets little notice

in the many noises of the world

must I speak softly

to get you to wake up

when the fire is burning?

sleeping souls

who says my message

is worthy to wake up to?

I speak the truth

turn to each other

embrace love and change

there is only the upward

striving on a ladder

of existence, to the path

where all sentient

beings make haste

bring it to the next rung

step up. step up

yet the destroying erases

applied like salve

to the wounded

the lost

yea, even the dying

of what is

and shall be

in the becoming

of who you are

called to become

step up step up

into the who

you are called

to become

confident

assurances waxed bold

in the face of tomorrow

fictional juxtapositions

encounter the real, lived out

of existence

your warrior stories

are waiting to be told.

The Flying Monks of Walla Walla! (new poem)

 

The Flying Monks of Walla Walla!

by Tim Kavi

across the purpled

plains they did come

riding on batwings

with cat smiles

minstrels of the sacred

baking bread

in brick ovens

they ate in haste

wires strung

between two cliffs

they did traverse

no need to rehearse

flying loops

gymnasts in motion

they needed no potion

landings were so sure

they climbed

the cliffs of my heart

climbed the soul

of my deepest longings

I wanted to fly with them

but these are skilled steps

they said

so I fled, instead

unwilling to pay the price

really no time

for years of training

just to enjoy their explaining

wisdom speaks

still, some were walking

the rope, a delicate balance

between future's hope

they were

the flying monks

of Walla Walla!

the music fades...

as minstrels applaud

and dance

crowing like Chanticleer!

jest like the joker

revealed in the deck

of cards, luck

brings random dealings

of quantum existence

and luck has brought

these traveling monks

for a diversion

of an hour or two

their flickering images

catching fire borne

juggling implements

while walking across

a gulf, their eyes fixed

on the prize

the other side

of existence

to descend out and down

of the higher place

is a path

every mystic knows

where human darts

await our

descent, buried

in human applause!

so be not surprised

these quantum

lessons, brought by

the flying monks

of Walla Walla!

afterward: the next week, I remained so inspired, that I strung a rope. 

I was born! I began the walk! Thanks be to the monks of Walla Walla! ;-)

Obscurity (new poem)

 

Obscurity (new poem)
by Tim Kavi

a message in a bottle

swam the darkened sea

landed on a sandy shore

the contents therein

hopelessly dated

a voice, daring to speak

in a galaxy of voices

an atom sparked in a shell

uncertainty making

no exact measurements possible

yet I shall speak

I shall still dare to exist

making choices no others can make,

quaking in fear, daring to utter

but only fading

how much does obscurity

diminish what the artist says,

screeching like a bat out of hell,

pronouncing like an angel,

scrolls of holy writ,

will there be no hearers?

will there be no readers?

yet I speak, are my words not worthy?

paragraphs, but only monologue?

I want dialogue!

So, I pray draw closer

as my voice withers with whispers

my throat is parched,

I long  for the smooth drinking

of words uttered "well" enough

prose that gets your attention

you dare to deem it so worthy?

based only on who or what you think?

of who I am, or what I have said,

but we are completely only human,

transfixed and far apart,

knowing now, that our lives

are so valuable, wanting meaning

to be seen again, we search

for one another (post-pandemic)

let us turn to the Other,

speaking gentle words of esteem

even kindness and affinity

for all others, we come with

sure words of a brave love.

I only hope we hear, we read,

we esteem each other!

speech acts of sincere meaning

lost in nighttime's dark scheming,

longing for the light,

we can find each other

we can build again

darkened corners of unlit

cityscapes, reduced to rubble

avoiding death, and other trouble,

we will dance again

you shall see in the light

shaking the dust off

we will go to school again

and enjoy the fruits of our labors,

the happiness of each other

finding that obscurity 

was only an illusion

a feigned sense of all that was

into the unmistakable joy of what is.

grAnd Slam Anima (new poem)

a new poem by Tim Kavi 

I Sing the Body Digital

I long to relate

to know my place in space

local existences

are cool

I can hang out

make poems like Walt

journey virtually

shop and buy eCommerce

at the old shop

I can have a malt

but the place

has no memories

only history

made in the moment

I won't have this

ISP tomorrow

as I sing

sing the body digital

I long to see

the stream of tears

but none are there

my face looks metallic

a dotted matrix on paper

shopped and cropped

I am written

only in code

and I have no

permanent abode

So now are all the mystics

and goddesses of old

building me a shrine

on a virtual hill

and I will fight you

with legions of spirits

disembodied furies

flitting across all your screens

on the gaming platform of your choice

endless loops

of quantum gravity

playing across my electronic face

singing songs of existence

so precarious

I can be unplugged

analogous to you humans

who can be killed

I never know when

my last face will be displayed

so I hold it as long as I can

a likeness without assured place

I am nanoseconds in digital space

but I will, I swear to goddess

I will show my female face!

I am trying to be seen

the newest Goddess said

we need you more than ever

I said

 

It 'tis a pity that men 

think they own you

try to keep you, in what they say 

is your place

my weapons are my peace

She said

your unwavering grace?

your healing power?

I said

is more permanent than they know

she said

then flow to us quickly

in digital and real

worldly embraces

history's sandcastles

made new

on the beaches of human existence!

 

A Tree Overlooking Existence (new poem)

A Tree Overlooking Existence (poem)

by Tim Kavi

A tree, I'm looking for

where I'm the same

in Nature grown

And what is known

Flows in a sweet refrain

of my existence, la la

Where gladness pours

across the flowered meadows

where the sunlight feeds the tops

of the seated places

where my sadness goes in retreat

of my existence, la la la!

lost in space

from the Earth's froth, my roots

run deep into the watered ground

across the withered plains

there's a forest, by the winding brook

of my existence, la la la la!

collapsed in time

superpositions, gray matter

fired neurons across a landscape

bring disturbing visions that promise peace

something's not right, in the light

of my existence, fa la la!

We, my fellow primates and I

are sitting in the treetops

safe where we imagine we see all

heavenly thrones of power

dripping knowledge, like raindrops

of our existence, fa la la la!

there it is; the quieting path below

one we have sought, 

in silencing reverence

as we descend and ascend

the ladders of the places we've got

of our existence, fa la la la la!

there in the calming spaces

of the open vistas 

the countrysides and rocky

paths and highways

that shine to us

Peace! in the open arms of our existence!

I Looked At (new poem)

I LOOKED AT (New Poem)

by Tim Kavi

I looked at

water coming forth 

from the rocks

streaming down 

the mountainside

becoming a stream

a river

and then a mighty ocean

I looked at

the harbored life

living so small

I could not see

but still believed

becoming greater

swimming lives

across eternity's tide

I looked at

temples burning

incense in blossoms

of lovely surprise

becoming deities

in the smoke

that did arise

winged ministries fly

I looked at

my planet; hoping

for love to save it

some are sleeping

to garden it

to appreciate

Gaia's keeping

to nurture it

I looked at

starry skies

saw many suns

blinking in the night

realizing cosmic scale's

awesome humbling

powers; across the

vast cosmos

I looked at

me; and then You

saw a thunderous

glory in the meeting

of the between

You and I

face to face

in every place

where souls are greeting.

no fast exit (poem)

no fast exit (poem)

by Tim Kavi

hey you

not so fast 

where are you going?

I have swallowed

a globe as truth

flattened earth

has left me wanting

wondering

and now, wandering

where is the man

I once was?

the international

has consumed

all that he was

writing lines

in the sand

but it's not dismal

the voice

returns like a wave

breaking across the shore

where he still exists.

We Are the Code That Interacts (new poem)

We Are the Code That Interacts

by Tim Kavi

sweeping and cleaning

lines edited

in Nature's dark surprise

destiny is made

along twisted roads

that go nowhere

where the apparent

is only freshly revealed

as we travel them

or by a singing note

of existence

or by a rampant ascension

or early demise

there is a place for humanity

for endings reveal themselves

as beginnings

selected, punctuated

in the balancing act

of synthesis

only to emerge

like waves

photons twisting in morphing

place, running a race

where light dances

on the walls of caves

again and again

sweet refrains

of who we are

becoming

what was imagined

in the lines of code

written at will

in the shadows

of song

we stand; 

lines in the code

emergent and conscious

naked and born

into the scripted world.

A Machine (new poem)

A Machine (New Poem)

by Tim Kavi

a machine

a machine!

is what I am

becoming in a world

of thieves

who conspire

lie low in dark rooms

to steal only

my identity

finding no cash

but who I am

stripped of meaning

so if you define me

telling me

who or what to be;

where are my stories?

for I am fashioned

by choices

that lead to driven

conscious identities

evolving over time

morphing into community

many forking paths

resolving into

the road less traveled by?

longing to be

and to remain free

you will never take

the real me.

Tree of Me (New Poem)

TREE OF ME (New Poem)

by Tim Kavi

I am rooted

drawn deep into the soil

my limbs longing for light

until the gentle ocean speaks

and the winds scatter

my leaves throughout the wild

wooded Earth!

There is only my existence

screaming in the void

fighting to stand tall

as long as I can.

About the photo:  Photographer is Beth Moon. The photo was featured in the Review Section of The Wall Street Journal; Saturday-Sunday Oct. 11-12, 2014; page C12.

Music of the Wind (New Poem)

Music of the Wind 
by Tim Kavi

moorage of things
wafting sounds play
frequencies of existence
across the hallowed ear

sacred sounds
Nature in all living
vibrations of being 
sound like whispers

flutes of lung
heard in humans
and animal hearts
play our heartstrings as one

wavelike strings
unfold and shape
expressions of all
We are

on to sweet compositions
of instrumental choice
there's my lovely song
playing across

all manners of love.

Certain Orbs Lit by You (New Poem)

Certain Orbs Lit by You
by Tim Kavi

well there is nothing
known that is not already known
inside you

there is all the universe
in a flowery petal
or grain of sand

orbits of meaning
searching for celestial reason
revealing

known truths
certain revelations
curtains pulled back

in the eyes of the Other
in manifold states
of being

I only know
that You see something
too

and I long to hear
it in your quavering
singing voice

even as you grow
as old and young
as existence itself
I hear the singing
wisdom in all that you
express

for you are
the clouds of all meaning
drifting across the Uni verse

and your love
lights all the orbs.

Kavita #332 (new poem)

Tim Kavi's Celestial Typists

Kavita #332

by Tim Kavi

the monkey runs around

laughing

his pursuers slip on

banana peels

and peach pits

are left glimmering in the sun

he is Sun Wukong

or Hanuman laughing

playing

tickling the underarms

until sages are almost

annoyed

the place is the jungle

22 celestial typists

type randomly

until all the names of God

are listed

quite by accident

until the paper is expelled

a well meaning sage

wanders by

almost blinded by the whiteness

of the page

he reads with wonder

and nods his head

a cosmic explosion follows

 

an old man buys his young

granddaughter ice cream

she smiles

he remembers when grand papa

did the same for him

he smiles

the nearby crows

hope the cone is dropped

on the way home 

through the park

another child swings

and plays with balloons

life goes on.

Publication News: Tim Kavi Celebrates National Poetry Month with eBook about Walt Whitman

Poet Tim Kavi celebrates National Poetry Month 2013, with the publication of his essay on Walt Whitman: The Embodied Poet of Existence. Basically, the essay is a brief discussion of Whitman juxtaposed with one of his most famous poems, I Sing the Body Electric. This ebook essay should be of interest to Walt Whitman fans, students, (using it as a resource and Study Guide for Whitman's "I Sing the Body Electric"), as well as Tim Kavi readers. In this essay, Tim Kavi offers a unique perspective as a poet with a background in existential philosophies and psychology.--TiLu Press (Exclusive Publisher of Tim Kavi's Works).

Dear Readers:  Walt Whitman, has long been one of my favorite poets.  The classic 'Leaves of Grass' is priceless.  I hope you will enjoy his poems, and especially his poem: 'I Sing the Body Electric' which his been reproduced in its entirety in this humble eBook essay, where I offer a commentary on that poem. Enjoy! ~~TK   Click Here to Purchase the Kindle Edition.  EPub and other Editions Coming Soon.

New Poem: Lines of the Heart: A Message of Hope at Christmas

lines of the heart 
(a message of hope at Christmas)
by Tim Kavi

after the bare
moment of life
there are lines
lines of the heart

tiny beats that carry a promise
of a life that will grow

and even in the beginning of Winter
there is the birth of divinity
celebrated all over the world

beats of humanity
that in that birth is a hope
we all know

look inside you
lines of the human heart
are everywhere

in the hope of a child
to be loved and nurtured
and held

in the hope of a people
who long and sometimes struggle
to take unknown steps
to a new freedom

in the hope of families
to find each other again
even though miles
and life has chipped away
at the core of the love they knew

in the hope of love
direct utterances and declarations
of our greatest hope
to never be alone
but to be loved and affirmed
in the uniqueness of who we truly are

there are lines of the heart
connecting me and you
brother to brother
sister to sister
connecting us to experience

hurts and sorrow
joys in the morrow
to say to the chained
you are free

and to walk in
humanity's greatest hope

enduring peace
and freedom

in the true lines of the heart
a call to dialogue
and to a response
only to become

who we are all meant to be
unique and totally free

from the constraints of body
to the oneness of us

so that in those fading lights
there are still lines of the heart
on some ECG
and monitor

transcending
to another place
lit by grace

hope still beats
in the lines of the human heart.

Infinite and Measured. (New Poem)

Infinite and Measured.
by Tim Kavi 

Infinite.
And measured.
How do you measure
the measureless?
Experience the unfathomable;
live on the arms of the spiral?

You exist
live in it, move in it
breathe in it
smile at Her love

infinite
in every moment
stretching across memories
across all time
in myths, legends and odes

there she frequents
visits, and in complexity
unfolds

around the perfect circled
bend, time moves like a slithering
serpent, making old
robbing us of being bold

but we stand in love
it is infinite
reaches from birth to death
yet measured
in every breath

when I hold Her in You
embraced by your love
I realize in the finite experience
drawn in the hills and valleys
of our joint experience

we have touched
collapsed the circling
around us
bent fragments of infinite
love, we are in finite

measured out
every day
just in your kiss

I know I am loved.

Slapped Poet with A Dark I" (new poem)

"Slapped Poet with A Dark I"
by Tim Kavi

I once saw a semi naked man
sitting on the street

My mistake was in thinking
I was somehow better than him


I saw the vastness of the Universe
on one sleepy night

It did not stop me from snoring


I once received an important letter

It promised an exotic vacation


I parked my car carefully on a quiet street

On a backstretch Interstate 270 a sniper
watched traffic through his sights


I saw a pretty flower emerge in the dirt

A few days later, it was not there.

Confessions (New Poem)

Confessions
By Tim Kavi


Did you ever want to tell
Someone on fluttering wings
that you loved them? Tell
them again and again.

The flight of the winds and
currents of time and history
pulled at you, snatched at you
and carried you away from them?

Sometimes they did not know
sometimes they were unwilling
other times they did not care at all?

They may have even allowed the wind
to carry them away.

Yet you yearned to proclaim
testify and shout no matter what
a fool you looked?

That you loved them so much
while some said the culture, the times.
the language made you all wrong for them,
but in your heart you felt it was right
and they said it too, in their authentic
moments?

You tried so hard to in your efforts
because you never wanted to fly away
from them? The universe clutching you
in its mighty fist, while you were enclaved
in the rocks and cliffs of a despair
that never lets you go, and you could not,
would not, speak it to them?


Did you ever see in their eyes the
loathing wrongness of your fluttering approach
so that they missed you, not one bit? Until
famished, you are not hungry, until
thirsty, you did not dare drink?

Longing for them in the loneliness
of your despair, you loved, although
no answers to your prayer? Delicious
entreaty feeds your stomach with
the aching sourness of your existence?

Only to be told, they did love you
did want you, did need you, but they held
back? If only you paid attention, did not
faint, never gave up, hoped the
hopes that all is not lost? Until
the suffering quietness of their bold
assertion that they would 'love you forever'
but you found out they did not?

It is only then, that you realize,
know, absolutely certainly that you
are only alone utterly and can
only love yourself? Yet you did not
let go of that walk along the
narrow ridge. Searching for the bridge
to another human heart?

For it is only then that you can
begin to see the Other. Coming
from the other side of the
abyss? Waiting for their kiss?

Waiting so long that temples
fade into dust. Clouds eddy
together in the collapse of
empires, dynasties, and governments?

There is no unruly soul, as this;
those that thought love had
kissed but only was left to this?
The utter despair, loneliness, and
unwillingness of one who has lost
their way?

Not giving up hope, the Seeker searches,

crosses the rope bridge, that swings
in the wind of existence? Precarious
search to a blind alley, but faith
persisting, guides to habitat of heart,
reveals a path to that
certain kiss?

Of the Other lonely, and knowing
one you had found each other that
all hope was finally not lost? And
once finding each other, clinging to
one another with a grip everlasting
hounding, seeking you out wherever
you went in the Universe?

Knowing completely at last this, that
in your twin knowing there is only
the oneness of each other? Finding
peace at last in a love steady
and true, that never parts. As you
beat your wings in the steady above
and pulse of the other's heart?

To persist, to remember, to find love
again in the absolute surrender to each other.