Thursday, November 11, 2010
LIMITED EDITIONS PRESS™'s Profile my new poetry book
LIMITED EDITIONS PRESS™'s Profile THE RHYTHMIC CYCLE -http//dianne.limitededitionspress.com
Monday, November 8, 2010
THE SHADOWS OF DEATH
When we walk with
wooden legs &
have no arms to
hold each other &
our flesh burns
Are we brothers
of war?
Inside my head, the blast raises
blood hot clouds
children shriek
entombed in their beds
i hide with war
that takes no limbs but
cuts as paper to my flesh
a lethal holocaust
i fear these long fingers
executing and extinguishing
LIFE
i silently listen for
the pulse of peace
copyright: Dianne Tchir from THE RYTHMIC CYCLE
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Facebook (67) | THE TURNING POINT- CONTINUED
Facebook (67) THE TURNING POINT- CONTINUED: "THE TURNING POINT- CONTINUED
by Dianne Tchir on Saturday, July 24, 2010 at 10:01pm
later/now split tongues language
formulae, classification,legitimation
magical boxes spin, dissect, divorce
misfit parts from wholes to isolate
& synchronize language with
space/time
copyrighted: D.M.Tchir July 25,2010"
by Dianne Tchir on Saturday, July 24, 2010 at 10:01pm
later/now split tongues language
formulae, classification,legitimation
magical boxes spin, dissect, divorce
misfit parts from wholes to isolate
& synchronize language with
space/time
copyrighted: D.M.Tchir July 25,2010"
Facebook (67) | The Turning Point
Facebook (67) The Turning Point: "The Turning Point
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:50pm
i search word strings
images of my historicity
texts reveal yesteryears'
fathers of theology/science
philosophy/REALITY
mothers' silent tongues
curled back inside
stringing life's journey
in retrospect, a child is born
into a world already named
i mused my world, being~
seeing seasons yoke to cycles
of life~death ~rebirth
i wanted to know mother
nature's secrets
continued
copyright: Dianne M. Tchir
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:50pm
i search word strings
images of my historicity
texts reveal yesteryears'
fathers of theology/science
philosophy/REALITY
mothers' silent tongues
curled back inside
stringing life's journey
in retrospect, a child is born
into a world already named
i mused my world, being~
seeing seasons yoke to cycles
of life~death ~rebirth
i wanted to know mother
nature's secrets
continued
copyright: Dianne M. Tchir
Facebook (67) | My Notes
Facebook (67) My Notes: "haiku
By Dianne Tchir · Sunday, August 29, 2010
misty waters flow
dew licks quiet grassy fields
sun salutations
lady butterfly
perfumes lilac spring morning
settles on the slough
the down pouring sheets
cover my naked window
my heart fibrillates
copyright: Dianne Tchir
By Dianne Tchir · Sunday, August 29, 2010
misty waters flow
dew licks quiet grassy fields
sun salutations
lady butterfly
perfumes lilac spring morning
settles on the slough
the down pouring sheets
cover my naked window
my heart fibrillates
copyright: Dianne Tchir
Facebook (67) | Timeless Beauty
Facebook (67) Timeless Beauty: "Timeless Beauty
by Dianne Tchir on Monday, July 26, 2010 at 11:27pm There is a timeless beauty in death
Splashes of gold and red weave
between lone pines that
stand untouched by frigid evening frost.
A full moon finds its reflection
bouncing beams across the glassy lake
crisp, cool yesterday whips white caps
shatters glass droplets that
crawl like stunned flies
The icy gusting wind grips gold and red
leaving poplar trees shivering
standing naked among the lone pines.
copyright: D.M. Tchir July26,2010"
by Dianne Tchir on Monday, July 26, 2010 at 11:27pm There is a timeless beauty in death
Splashes of gold and red weave
between lone pines that
stand untouched by frigid evening frost.
A full moon finds its reflection
bouncing beams across the glassy lake
crisp, cool yesterday whips white caps
shatters glass droplets that
crawl like stunned flies
The icy gusting wind grips gold and red
leaving poplar trees shivering
standing naked among the lone pines.
copyright: D.M. Tchir July26,2010"
Facebook (67) | Haiku
Facebook (67) Haiku: "Haiku
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:43pm
soft flakes sparkle white
diamonds on tall pine tree boughs
I steal with my eyes
golden sun rays flood
open fields of growing wheat
heads burst to feed people
copyright: Dianne Tchir August 3,2010"
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:43pm
soft flakes sparkle white
diamonds on tall pine tree boughs
I steal with my eyes
golden sun rays flood
open fields of growing wheat
heads burst to feed people
copyright: Dianne Tchir August 3,2010"
Facebook (66) | Dance Me
Facebook (66) Dance Me: "Dance Me
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:54pm
The music gyrates, the beat pulsates
the pace and rhythm tingle
i retreat to
the starlit moonstruck sky
my hips roll and sway
my arms stretch~branching upward
fingers like feathers float in
the warmspun night air
my feet glide and leap on
the cool covered grassy earth
A thin veil of air separates bodies
the fragrant night intoxicates me as
i grasp the handle
of the Big Dipper and drink
my lips thirst for more
Celestial bodies in motion
dance me
copyright: Dianne Tchir
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:54pm
The music gyrates, the beat pulsates
the pace and rhythm tingle
i retreat to
the starlit moonstruck sky
my hips roll and sway
my arms stretch~branching upward
fingers like feathers float in
the warmspun night air
my feet glide and leap on
the cool covered grassy earth
A thin veil of air separates bodies
the fragrant night intoxicates me as
i grasp the handle
of the Big Dipper and drink
my lips thirst for more
Celestial bodies in motion
dance me
copyright: Dianne Tchir
Facebook (66) | Magic Man
Facebook (66) Magic Man: "Magic Man
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:52pmMagic man
your altar is sustenance
the totem releases
a spirit of control
you beckon the winds,sky,
earth and water
filling your being with soul
you celebrate life, death & rebirth
transcend your pain to find
self worth in childlike games
contracting your soul
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.5, 2010
Comment ·LikeUnlike · Share"
by Dianne Tchir on Sunday, August 29, 2010 at 2:52pmMagic man
your altar is sustenance
the totem releases
a spirit of control
you beckon the winds,sky,
earth and water
filling your being with soul
you celebrate life, death & rebirth
transcend your pain to find
self worth in childlike games
contracting your soul
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.5, 2010
Comment ·LikeUnlike · Share"
Monday, October 18, 2010
HAIKU
fall tree colours blend
coexist under one canvas
synchronize life's concert
earth,sun, air, water
divine cycle of victual
cosmic mortal food
copyright: Dianne Tchir October 18,2010
coexist under one canvas
synchronize life's concert
earth,sun, air, water
divine cycle of victual
cosmic mortal food
copyright: Dianne Tchir October 18,2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
THE FOREST IS NEVER LOST
Then, my children aged two years
stepped back in time
with visions of a holy place
the Escarpment was a sanctuary
caves became home &
adventures rose up
from the forest floor
They laid on cold rocky shelves
concealed by green soft spongy moss
then summer's forest canopy
was teased by FALL FROST &
blushed red & orange & gold
black moss betrayed barren rock
My children escaped to the caves
silence echoes their cries of the past
they are unable to grasp the holy place
Today we walk in the Fall Forest
My son with his daughters
feast on cranberries
i eat pine needles
Prana air fills our beings
many shades of green moss
conceal trunks and cold rock
My granddaughters are swept
from tree to tree as they play
forest children
Quietly, my son places
each on a shoulder &
climbs to the top of the hill
they listen to the solitude
of this holy place..
copyright: Dianne Tchir October 9,2010
stepped back in time
with visions of a holy place
the Escarpment was a sanctuary
caves became home &
adventures rose up
from the forest floor
They laid on cold rocky shelves
concealed by green soft spongy moss
then summer's forest canopy
was teased by FALL FROST &
blushed red & orange & gold
black moss betrayed barren rock
My children escaped to the caves
silence echoes their cries of the past
they are unable to grasp the holy place
Today we walk in the Fall Forest
My son with his daughters
feast on cranberries
i eat pine needles
Prana air fills our beings
many shades of green moss
conceal trunks and cold rock
My granddaughters are swept
from tree to tree as they play
forest children
Quietly, my son places
each on a shoulder &
climbs to the top of the hill
they listen to the solitude
of this holy place..
copyright: Dianne Tchir October 9,2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Corpus Diem~Highway Poem
Paint brushes-magenta~deliquesce
into tarnished umber &
nuzzle the ditch close to
the highway's shoulder
lilies-copper orange~fade
trade places with green
leaves of poplar and birch trees
fuzzy fox tails brush
the crimson stained highway
the Mystic has been here
infusing
trembling gold and bronze
Black pools of ravens peck
at the blood trail
that leads to
the decapitated deer
coyotes zig~zag
criss~cross
wanting to feast
i push over the limit
yesterday the stag still
had his crown.
copyright: Dianne Tchir Sept.25,2010
into tarnished umber &
nuzzle the ditch close to
the highway's shoulder
lilies-copper orange~fade
trade places with green
leaves of poplar and birch trees
fuzzy fox tails brush
the crimson stained highway
the Mystic has been here
infusing
trembling gold and bronze
Black pools of ravens peck
at the blood trail
that leads to
the decapitated deer
coyotes zig~zag
criss~cross
wanting to feast
i push over the limit
yesterday the stag still
had his crown.
copyright: Dianne Tchir Sept.25,2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
THE CURSE
i fit tight jeans
with my 49 year old body
that feels 25
kindles sexual desires
mocks youthful flirtation
seduced by music & your
piercing eyes that
cut the chains of
limitations & boundaries
get me out of me
i am coming to you
i drink liquid gold, flaming red
molten copper through
my third eye
i lick the cold thin ice-
ing off the pond
your lips sear memories
steal my energy
your hands~arms pull me
close into your vortex
remind me now- the fall
of my life
your voice is brittle like glass
i go from bed to bed
not quite sure where to lay my head
you have become the bears you hunted
i lay in silence
arms flail, fists pound
with your roar~my tears flood
moans into fitful sleep
you are lost forever
still i yearn your viceral
your thoughtful mind~you
you are silent now
as you hold my hand
i hear the shrill grate of your sorrow
we are not immortal, invincible or immune
one in six will be cursed with dementia ruin
Copyright: Dianne Tchir September 12,2010
with my 49 year old body
that feels 25
kindles sexual desires
mocks youthful flirtation
seduced by music & your
piercing eyes that
cut the chains of
limitations & boundaries
get me out of me
i am coming to you
i drink liquid gold, flaming red
molten copper through
my third eye
i lick the cold thin ice-
ing off the pond
your lips sear memories
steal my energy
your hands~arms pull me
close into your vortex
remind me now- the fall
of my life
your voice is brittle like glass
i go from bed to bed
not quite sure where to lay my head
you have become the bears you hunted
i lay in silence
arms flail, fists pound
with your roar~my tears flood
moans into fitful sleep
you are lost forever
still i yearn your viceral
your thoughtful mind~you
you are silent now
as you hold my hand
i hear the shrill grate of your sorrow
we are not immortal, invincible or immune
one in six will be cursed with dementia ruin
Copyright: Dianne Tchir September 12,2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
THE DIG
Landscapes are what we have
the finds of physical human existence
the irony of fear, the loss of paradise
the cycles of pain and sorrow
intense sexual passions
dehumanization is
the lowest common denominator
of our world
Sacred images crumble
memory layers flake
optically present but
spiritually alien
separate histories
land of the dead~ watchers
of humanity's fragments
copyright: Dianne Tchir 9-11-2010
the finds of physical human existence
the irony of fear, the loss of paradise
the cycles of pain and sorrow
intense sexual passions
dehumanization is
the lowest common denominator
of our world
Sacred images crumble
memory layers flake
optically present but
spiritually alien
separate histories
land of the dead~ watchers
of humanity's fragments
copyright: Dianne Tchir 9-11-2010
~WAR IN/OUTSIDE WORLDS
The choice between two evils
no faces~desperate anxiety
no faces~dangerous power
formulae: efficiency & effectiveness
precision & paralysis
The threads of this worship
are the fabric of human genocide
copyright: Dianne Tchir September 11, 2010
no faces~desperate anxiety
no faces~dangerous power
formulae: efficiency & effectiveness
precision & paralysis
The threads of this worship
are the fabric of human genocide
copyright: Dianne Tchir September 11, 2010
Sunday, September 5, 2010
THE AGED ARE MANY
Children innocent of
wayward life
seek golden stairways
to rest the winter
of life
Cold rock & lifeless
porcelain forbid
aging bodies dignity
The crowded strairway
casts shadows of
bleak baby boomers
boxed DESOLATE
Copyright: Dianne Tchir Sept.5, 2010
wayward life
seek golden stairways
to rest the winter
of life
Cold rock & lifeless
porcelain forbid
aging bodies dignity
The crowded strairway
casts shadows of
bleak baby boomers
boxed DESOLATE
Copyright: Dianne Tchir Sept.5, 2010
IN SEARCH OF STRENGTH
we dwell within a fat man's block
built upon a human garbage dump
mortar echoes a screaming FREE-WAY
that promises a transformed wilderness
a winding vacuum of starved time
fills with feverish strangers
the spirit of a loping deer
extinguished by the profit
i chance the timothy fields
once ours, now raped
i lay facing the earth
suffocated by malignant time
a river meanders below the flat
poisoning~swallowing banks of earth
carving an abyss, filling with refuse
determing rights for patent death
the search for strength begins
in the abyss infested with human destruction
shadows get lost to the universe
showering the long painful climb
copyright: Dianne Tchir September 5, 2010
built upon a human garbage dump
mortar echoes a screaming FREE-WAY
that promises a transformed wilderness
a winding vacuum of starved time
fills with feverish strangers
the spirit of a loping deer
extinguished by the profit
i chance the timothy fields
once ours, now raped
i lay facing the earth
suffocated by malignant time
a river meanders below the flat
poisoning~swallowing banks of earth
carving an abyss, filling with refuse
determing rights for patent death
the search for strength begins
in the abyss infested with human destruction
shadows get lost to the universe
showering the long painful climb
copyright: Dianne Tchir September 5, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
NAKEDNESS
There is no glitter or shine
my nakedness grips the sand
THE UNIVERSE encompasses my past &
present, with gentle impunity
unconditionally
i am incomplete
a comet streaks across
the skylit stage, not
touching a single performer
The body of water
draws me into
its cold arms
quenching my burning skin
indulging my senses
The water's cadence
arrests my breath
i am one in this history of time
my nakedness returns to
the burning sand , as my hands
grasp the tail of
the streaking comet
copyright: Dianne Tchir August 31,2010
Saturday, August 28, 2010
GIFTS
The riches i treasur are
the lives who care
not afraid to take risks
not afraid to share
a gentle touch from
a meaningful thought &
a warm summer breeze
Not afraid to share
the silence of night
a murmuring stream
recycling hope & flowing with
spirit and the riches of dreams
Not afraid to share
a glimpse of the past
slip into my skin
connect with the present
explore visions of
the future
Not afraid to reciprocate
respect individuality
maintain the thread of humanity
&
endorse the exchange with sincerity.
Copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.28,2010
the lives who care
not afraid to take risks
not afraid to share
a gentle touch from
a meaningful thought &
a warm summer breeze
Not afraid to share
the silence of night
a murmuring stream
recycling hope & flowing with
spirit and the riches of dreams
Not afraid to share
a glimpse of the past
slip into my skin
connect with the present
explore visions of
the future
Not afraid to reciprocate
respect individuality
maintain the thread of humanity
&
endorse the exchange with sincerity.
Copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.28,2010
Disease of DECEPTION
The silhouettes wear
eyes of pallid glass
disguising the abyss
of tragedy
They quickly change
their masks
to fit the shadows
of reality
Deceptive eyes reflect
the gods of immortality
enslaving the audience
with mirrors of prosperity
The silhouettes stagger
children try their masks
closed glass eyes shatter
revealing shadows of death
The silhouettes perform
fear in pantomime
disguising the mirrors
of prosperity
The shadows encroach
unveiling reality
creating the abyss
of anxiety
Copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.28,2010
eyes of pallid glass
disguising the abyss
of tragedy
They quickly change
their masks
to fit the shadows
of reality
Deceptive eyes reflect
the gods of immortality
enslaving the audience
with mirrors of prosperity
The silhouettes stagger
children try their masks
closed glass eyes shatter
revealing shadows of death
The silhouettes perform
fear in pantomime
disguising the mirrors
of prosperity
The shadows encroach
unveiling reality
creating the abyss
of anxiety
Copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.28,2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
A CONVERSATION
You are a new face
i welcome your personhood
as i search behind
your speaking eyes.
I yoke myself to your matrix
in a dream i see
the mythical womb of BEAR
uniting with SKY SPIRIT
language stringing culture's beads
circumscribing your nature.
Your circle has no end , only
a beginning
i tune~you share talk
i knowingly feel your words.
We exchange our beads
enlarging our circle of living
understanding each other's
nature of being.
Within your circle
"I" is not centre
but shines when
the string resonates
pulsating images of others.
copyright: D.M. Tchir Aug.22,2010
i welcome your personhood
as i search behind
your speaking eyes.
I yoke myself to your matrix
in a dream i see
the mythical womb of BEAR
uniting with SKY SPIRIT
language stringing culture's beads
circumscribing your nature.
Your circle has no end , only
a beginning
i tune~you share talk
i knowingly feel your words.
We exchange our beads
enlarging our circle of living
understanding each other's
nature of being.
Within your circle
"I" is not centre
but shines when
the string resonates
pulsating images of others.
copyright: D.M. Tchir Aug.22,2010
CHANGE
CHANGE invades my future
temporary symbols & images
expose my convulsing language
i misread reality
our tightly wired world
zaps~place, space & time
alters the way i feel
the texture of my existence
POWER, SPEED & FORCE
discharge unfamiliar shapes
social fabric is replaced
we plug into modules
dispose of persons
redesign the human race
relearn reality & shop
for psychological baggage
to tightly wire our world
AGAIN
pending change
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug. 22,2010
temporary symbols & images
expose my convulsing language
i misread reality
our tightly wired world
zaps~place, space & time
alters the way i feel
the texture of my existence
POWER, SPEED & FORCE
discharge unfamiliar shapes
social fabric is replaced
we plug into modules
dispose of persons
redesign the human race
relearn reality & shop
for psychological baggage
to tightly wire our world
AGAIN
pending change
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug. 22,2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
ICY PROFUSION
I etch my painting
on frosted panes
that I may more than see
the icy fingers of winter
Sol invites play
as slivers of silver fall away
The fine brush strokes
feathery veins
concealing your fine
grey strands
your weathered face
your hidden sorrows
I want to return
to your precious womb
to start again
to rock you
inside of me
to take flight but
your spirit
slips away tranforming
icy profusion into bone
copyright: Dianne Tchir August 14,2010
on frosted panes
that I may more than see
the icy fingers of winter
Sol invites play
as slivers of silver fall away
The fine brush strokes
feathery veins
concealing your fine
grey strands
your weathered face
your hidden sorrows
I want to return
to your precious womb
to start again
to rock you
inside of me
to take flight but
your spirit
slips away tranforming
icy profusion into bone
copyright: Dianne Tchir August 14,2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
TANGIBLE
I had to make you concrete
you became the sketch
i made several strokes
on you
hoping you could feel
i curved, filled and feathered
crosshatched
stroked you diagonally
vertically and horizontally
I could feel your presence
desire to gain entry
i have finished you
but
cannot touch you
copyright: D.M. Tchir Aug. 12,2010
you became the sketch
i made several strokes
on you
hoping you could feel
i curved, filled and feathered
crosshatched
stroked you diagonally
vertically and horizontally
I could feel your presence
desire to gain entry
i have finished you
but
cannot touch you
copyright: D.M. Tchir Aug. 12,2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
THE UNIVERSITY'S AESTHETIC CANTEEN
The painted green room
has a real green plant
the leaves unfold dust
the roots sprout ashes
Voices pierce the thick air
as sounds deflect & mingle
off the walls
Flailing arms & open hands try
retrieving familiar sounds~words
symbols sign laughter ; while
angry compartments lock into
each other
The ceiling drops phonics
watering the confused
green plants
copyright: Dianne Tchir Aug.10, 2010
has a real green plant
the leaves unfold dust
the roots sprout ashes
Voices pierce the thick air
as sounds deflect & mingle
off the walls
Flailing arms & open hands try
retrieving familiar sounds~words
symbols sign laughter ; while
angry compartments lock into
each other
The ceiling drops phonics
watering the confused
green plants
copyright: Dianne Tchir Aug.10, 2010
FINGERS of GENTLENESS
We move through space
vacuum forces
sound stones
release nets of
cloudy feelings
We confuse life's destiny
shout refuge from
stormy skies
Empty hands join
showering rebirth
Weepy arms lend
solace to wavering hands
gently touching flesh
finding
malice gone
resting inside
outside of me
copyright: Dianne Tchir August10, 2010
vacuum forces
sound stones
release nets of
cloudy feelings
We confuse life's destiny
shout refuge from
stormy skies
Empty hands join
showering rebirth
Weepy arms lend
solace to wavering hands
gently touching flesh
finding
malice gone
resting inside
outside of me
copyright: Dianne Tchir August10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
HUBRIS
You slip into your head
safe
you're immortal like
Shakespeare's
word salads
never wilting
never souring
your photograph doesn't reveal
your HUBRIS
your face is lost to
ripples in the water
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.9, 2010
safe
you're immortal like
Shakespeare's
word salads
never wilting
never souring
your photograph doesn't reveal
your HUBRIS
your face is lost to
ripples in the water
copyright: D.M.Tchir Aug.9, 2010
Sunday, August 8, 2010
CULTURE'S SIN
i hide...inside...my cultural cocoon
peeking...outside...my alienated nature
the painted...illusions...dictate quality
i tuck ...inside...rehearse
the script daily
the mask...hides...the civilized evil
the umbilical cord of Legitimate Authority
precasts the embryos...seeding inequality
promissory notes pulsate the machinery
reduce my essence to superficiality
the toxic cocoon consumes my identity
copyright: D.M. Tchir August 8th, 2010
peeking...outside...my alienated nature
the painted...illusions...dictate quality
i tuck ...inside...rehearse
the script daily
the mask...hides...the civilized evil
the umbilical cord of Legitimate Authority
precasts the embryos...seeding inequality
promissory notes pulsate the machinery
reduce my essence to superficiality
the toxic cocoon consumes my identity
copyright: D.M. Tchir August 8th, 2010
Dianne's Wordshop
Dianne's Wordshop:
THE DIRECTOR
Today we try
cultural understanding
appeals for a better world
changes in content
physical structures
discharching anger at
cause & effect.
The actors are
without scripts
The roles mirror
everyman's security
The director diverts
cultural conflict.
The Play is here
where the masks hide
weary strained faces
The director ordains
the space for bodies
mulling them fit
for roles
Outside the bubble
the script unwinds
categorical boxes that
swell institutions
founded on justification.
copyright: D.M.Tchir August 8, 2010
THE DIRECTOR
Today we try
cultural understanding
appeals for a better world
changes in content
physical structures
discharching anger at
cause & effect.
The actors are
without scripts
The roles mirror
everyman's security
The director diverts
cultural conflict.
The Play is here
where the masks hide
weary strained faces
The director ordains
the space for bodies
mulling them fit
for roles
Outside the bubble
the script unwinds
categorical boxes that
swell institutions
founded on justification.
copyright: D.M.Tchir August 8, 2010
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