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Cleveland, Ohio
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Thought of the MomentKailashana is (1 year ago) Favorite Quote“"When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy." Rumi ” |
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Sex | female | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Favorite Poets | Rumi, Kabir, Kahlil Gibran, Tagore and a long list of contemporary poets, many of whom I can call *friend*. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Favorite Authors | Too many to mention. Dare I say everything I have ever read has left its imprint in my mind and heart? | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Greatest Influence | The Wayshowers...all those living and dead who pushed the envelope of how it is to effectively change what is. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| About me | I am a reformed seeker; my life has answered all my questions... yet I look forward to new experiences rising in this great theater I am. If I were to define myself it would be as a *Lover* of Life. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Recent Work
My bookshelf
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Did you know
Did you know your pen name reminds me very much of one of my favorite characters in Anne McCaffrey’s “Crytal Singer” series? Her name is Killashandra Ree. You have some lovely poetry here.
Rett
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Some call me lazy, I prefer Energy Conservationist~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That’s P.C. speak by the way.
I’m finally getting around
I’m finally getting around to answer you Rett. Thank you for your comment and I’ll have to read Anne McCaffrey’s “Crytal Singer” now won’t I?
Love.
Anna
UR VIEWS PLEASEE
ON MY POEM
THANKS IN ADVANCEE
THE ROAD IS TOO LONG
This is your favorite poem my friend 'kailashana"
Under Siege
by :Mahmoud Darwish
Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time
Close to the gardens of broken shadows,
We do what prisoners do,
And what the jobless do:
We cultivate hope.
A country preparing for dawn. We grow less intelligent
For we closely watch the hour of victory:
No night in our night lit up by the shelling
Our enemies are watchful and light the light for us
In the darkness of cellars.
Here there is no “I”.
Here Adam remembers the dust of his clay.
On the verge of death, he says:
I have no trace left to lose:
Free I am so close to my liberty. My future lies in my own hand.
Soon I shall penetrate my life,
I shall be born free and parentless,
And as my name I shall choose azure letters…
You who stand in the doorway, come in,
Drink Arabic coffee with us
And you will sense that you are men like us
You who stand in the doorways of houses
Come out of our morningtimes,
We shall feel reassured to be
Men like you!
When the planes disappear, the white, white doves
Fly off and wash the cheeks of heaven
With unbound wings taking radiance back again, taking possession
Of the ether and of play. Higher, higher still, the white, white doves
Fly off. Ah, if only the sky
Were real [a man passing between two bombs said to me].
Cypresses behind the soldiers, minarets protecting
The sky from collapse. Behind the hedge of steel
Soldiers piss—under the watchful eye of a tank—
And the autumnal day ends its golden wandering in
A street as wide as a church after Sunday mass…
[To a killer] If you had contemplated the victim’s face
And thought it through, you would have remembered your mother in the
Gas chamber, you would have been freed from the reason for the rifle
And you would have changed your mind: this is not the way
to find one’s identity again.
The siege is a waiting period
Waiting on the tilted ladder in the middle of the storm.
Alone, we are alone as far down as the sediment
Were it not for the visits of the rainbows.
We have brothers behind this expanse.
Excellent brothers. They love us. They watch us and weep.
Then, in secret, they tell each other:
“Ah! if this siege had been declared…” They do not finish their sentence:
“Don’t abandon us, don’t leave us.”
Our losses: between two and eight martyrs each day.
And ten wounded.
And twenty homes.
And fifty olive trees…
Added to this the structural flaw that
Will arrive at the poem, the play, and the unfinished canvas.
A woman told the cloud: cover my beloved
For my clothing is drenched with his blood.
If you are not rain, my love
Be tree
Sated with fertility, be tree
If you are not tree, my love
Be stone
Saturated with humidity, be stone
If you are not stone, my love
Be moon
In the dream of the beloved woman, be moon
[So spoke a woman
to her son at his funeral]
Oh watchmen! Are you not weary
Of lying in wait for the light in our salt
And of the incandescence of the rose in our wound
Are you not weary, oh watchmen?
A little of this absolute and blue infinity
Would be enough
To lighten the burden of these times
And to cleanse the mire of this place.
It is up to the soul to come down from its mount
And on its silken feet walk
By my side, hand in hand, like two longtime
Friends who share the ancient bread
And the antique glass of wine
May we walk this road together
And then our days will take different directions:
I, beyond nature, which in turn
Will choose to squat on a high-up rock.
On my rubble the shadow grows green,
And the wolf is dozing on the skin of my goat
He dreams as I do, as the angel does
That life is here…not over there.
In the state of siege, time becomes space
Transfixed in its eternity
In the state of siege, space becomes time
That has missed its yesterday and its tomorrow.
The martyr encircles me every time I live a new day
And questions me: Where were you? Take every word
You have given me back to the dictionaries
And relieve the sleepers from the echo’s buzz.
The martyr enlightens me: beyond the expanse
I did not look
For the virgins of immortality for I love life
On earth, amid fig trees and pines,
But I cannot reach it, and then, too, I took aim at it
With my last possession: the blood in the body of azure.
The martyr warned me: Do not believe their ululations
Believe my father when, weeping, he looks at my photograph
How did we trade roles, my son, how did you precede me.
I first, I the first one!
The martyr encircles me: my place and my crude furniture are all that I have changed.
I put a gazelle on my bed,
And a crescent of moon on my finger
To appease my sorrow.
The siege will last in order to convince us we must choose an enslavement that does no harm, in fullest liberty!
Resisting means assuring oneself of the heart’s health,
The health of the testicles and of your tenacious disease:
The disease of hope.
And in what remains of the dawn, I walk toward my exterior
And in what remains of the night, I hear the sound of footsteps inside me.
Greetings to the one who shares with me an attention to
The drunkenness of light, the light of the butterfly, in the
Blackness of this tunnel!
Greetings to the one who shares my glass with me
In the denseness of a night outflanking the two spaces:
Greetings to my apparition.
My friends are always preparing a farewell feast for me,
A soothing grave in the shade of oak trees
A marble epitaph of time
And always I anticipate them at the funeral:
Who then has died…who?
Writing is a puppy biting nothingness
Writing wounds without a trace of blood.
Our cups of coffee. Birds green trees
In the blue shade, the sun gambols from one wall
To another like a gazelle
The water in the clouds has the unlimited shape of what is left to us
Of the sky. And other things of suspended memories
Reveal that this morning is powerful and splendid,
And that we are the guests of eternity.
http://www.adab.com/en/modules.php?name=Sh3er&doWhat=lsq&shid=1&r=&start=15
One weak point of most of
One weak point of most of us; poets, is that we tell but not show. The poem Mango answers to this weakpoint and by merely reading it, one could really have a clear taste of Mango and not any Mango but specifically the one you were eating. I was suprised when I licked my lips after reading it.
Love and Respect.
weak point
Show not tell it’s not a mantra and can at time be overlooked
Apparently the first sense
Apparently the first sense we are really in tune with is our hunger/taste, our first cries are seeking milk from any nipple. The taste buds become fine-tuned depending on our *heritage*: who we are, where we live and how we have *educated* our tastes.
Love and Respect returned.
~A
I shall be your friend.
I shall be your friend.
Thank you. Friendship is
Thank you. Friendship is the highest regard.
~Anna
my logo
how do u like my poems and also now my logo
Let us see how it works.
As time goes on the impacts and aspects that we experience will bring out results.
evaluating our friendship.
I like your beautiful flower Anna
Your friend,
Patty
You need to update your profile
it’s difficult to respond correctly when you don’t know who you’re dealing with.
Respectfully, Tom
I had an updated file that
I had an updated file that was lost. However, don’t you think there is an element of mystery when you can’t put a finger on someone to say “oh, that’s why”. Our judgments based on sex, looks, education, religious persuasions, country of origin, age, favorite books, poetry etc.
I could be a man…even…. ever think about that? I’ll let my poetry and words speak for itself for now. I may even be manufacturing it all for the sake of novelty.
~A
I heartily second this reply-
not for the sake of mystery but for the sake of eliminating stereotyping. Besides, isn’t the correct response an honest, tactful response?
there is an element of mystery
and your poetry and words will speak for themselves.
It’s all these links and references you’ve been posting that require some degree of scrutiny.
I think we should know who and what we are dealing with, so we can decide how or whether or not to respond at all.
Respectfully, Tom
http://www.neopoet.com/node/12548
Who I am is not any opinion
Who I am is not any opinion based on fact or fancy history or my links or references. Take it or leave it. Take me or leave me.
Respectfully,
*me*…
~
I never said who you are is an opinion
Flooding this site with massive amounts of links deserves to be scrutinized.
Take off your mask, Zorro… or is this WeirdoElf?
You said “Take me or leave me”.
Until you reveal yourself, I’ll have to leave you.
Respectfully,
Tom
http://www.neopoet.com/node/12548
So be it..And let it be
So be it..
And let it be known that no matter what, all you will ever have of me is an opinion…
that’s all we ever have of anyone….be it on line or in our homes.
We LIVE and DIE for our opinions. Now go in peace my friend.. I’m not about to
castigated for including information for discerning minds. And think not that you are not doing so.
~~A
friends..?
Hi… Can v be friends…And I have added some poems in my blog… I would request You to read and give me feed back..
We’ve been friends before
We’ve been friends before time began, poet. I love your glass-winged butterfly. I’ve written many poems with them as a theme.
Hugs,
Anna
friens
It is my privilage to have you as my friend. cheers.
Added you as a buddy!
Hey there, Lady!
I’ve added you to my buddy list and I hope you might wish to add me also! I’ve enjoyed your comments on my work and I hope to continue to please you!
Lonnie
Your picture reminds me of
Your picture reminds me of an great old photo, Lonnie.. one of my first boyfriends was a 6’4” absolute outdoorsman… (sans beard & long hair though) he would drive his Norton 40 miles even in the snow to see me. He taught me archery & skeet shooting, a real gentle giant. Anyway we went to a party once and he was dressed as Daniel Boone… my mom took a picture of us. He had a tomahawk over my head… and I was giggling. Damn.. I wish I had a scanner and knew how to post some pictures here…
ask any of your friends who are remotely computer savvy,
Hey Anna, sorry to intrude, just a thought (I’d LOVE to see this pictrue too), You’re local community house or neighbourhood house (do you have these over there?), or a post office or a local school even might be happy to scan in a photo or two for you, it is so easy my friend, otherwise, just ask any of your friends who are remotely computer savvy, someone near you is bound to have a scanner.
Cheers
Anni ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“…We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?
… Your playing small doesn’t serve the world…”
poems and logo
how do u like my poems and new logo
Interesting. Do you bake?~A
Interesting. Do you bake?
~A
sleep comes comments
Kailashana, There’s trouble posting comments going on. Maybe that’s one
of the good reasons I spend many nights reading my ‘signpost’.
Actually I’m very good with communication. Not everybody wants to
hear it. Truth, that is.
I’de like to read one of your lessons in clean, adult, poetry.
Thanks for enjoying….wcw
African Proverb
If you’re going to tell the truth, keep a horse by the door.
Michael
I do so like this proverb.
I do so like this proverb. I have nothing by the door, not even a broom. ;-)
~A
“All in all, it’s just another brick in the wall.” Pink Floyd
There are no walls except for the ones we build. ~me~
*Truth*, anyone’s *truth*
*Truth*, anyone’s *truth* is always based on selective listening/hearing, imo.
That’s why I proudly wear the NEOPOET T-shirt with Salmon Rushdie’s (in)famous
quote: “A poet’s work; to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take
sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it going to sleep.”
Bless him for speaking it and upsetting the fundamentalist Islamic world– that world that begets terrorism.
~A
Hi Anna,
I´ve been meaning to catch up on your latest work, but I couldn´t decide where to start…You seem to have found a creative goldmine!
Catch you later,
~Nina
P.S. It´s time someone invented coffee-repelling screens and keyboards!
To share-
I just finished an immensely enjoyable little novel and ran across a quote I thought you might like: “‘love is a chain of love … when you can love one thing … you can love another, and that is owning, that is something to live with.” –The Grass Harp, Truman Capote
Lovely to meet you, been meaning to read you 4 ages from yr comm
After reading your wonderful last post I thought I best look at your profile & more laughter of recognition, we would have to be kindred in some way (I guess most of us here are at that!).
Lovely to meet you Anna, I look forward to reading much more of your work.
I hope you are ok with me adding you as buddy so I can keep track easier… feel free to let me know directly if you post something you would like me to look at.. you know what I mean…
Cheers
Anni
“Out beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field.
I will meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about ideas, language, and even the phrase, “each other” doesn’t make any sense.”
poems and logo
have u read any of my poems and how do u like my logo
Written,
witnessed and carried into silence. Maybe now I can listen and see more acutely and accurately.
Kailashana,
I am staying up too late to write this short note. I will get a verbal comment in the morning. What a tender, aching style you have. I have now read ten to twenty of your poems. The first one, just by chance, that caught my eye was “Mortally Wounded”. Then, I was off to do something else and had to search to find it again. Then “love-junkie” and “How Others Do It”. Well, I am in awe given the quality of these poems and the hungery quantity of your writing. Indeed, your drive to write is the equal of any love-junkie-ism. I am new to neopoet, and despite being Canadian, a little apprehensive at all the “nice” comments floating around. And don’t think that I am not a little intimidated by the self awareness that must be available to someone who writes as much as you do and writes the poem, How Others Do It. Nevertheless, I will show a twinge of courage and say that there are poems in your stable that contain terrific colours - turns of phase - the kind one always wants to write, but they are sometimes blanched by neighbouring line(s) and begging for a re-write. Is this kind of comment to the most readable poet I have found on neopoet out of line. I shall await the spears and short swords of at least your defenders.
bjp
P.S. I have taken the liberty of adding you as a buddy.
It’s funny bjp, to make a
It’s funny bjp, to make a long story short, after a cosmic awakening, so to speak, poetry reemerged… i have thousands in the past 4 years… most i have forgotten and when an editor writes to ask me to review for changes, I am surprised…. did I write that? Sometimes not in a good way….;-)
Nevertheless, sometime I will review my archive here if ever another book (my 2nd completed book is in limbo… financial issues for my local publisher). I once dreamed about having a co-conspirator… someone who will read my work and make suggestions for a rewrite for publication in a book form.
Between my work (as I am unfortunately, not the idle rich), takes time and energy, as of late…. and I am still blessed with writing and that is my *higher purpose* at the moment, taking precedence.
Perhaps someday after I’m gone, there will be 20 books (a la Bukowski, my hero!)
published posthumously.
But then again maybe not. And I, along with my poems will be annihilated in the cosmic drain.
Thank you for reading… I’ll take any suggestions… though (ask anyone here) I’m often loathe to implement them. (Mad laughter!)
Much love,
Anna
“The way you make love is the way God will be with you.” Rumi
hello from Scotland
no comment, just be happy - if you can’t be happy, be content.Remember, happiness is always found in retrospect (“we were happy then”) so enjoy life and keep writing those delicate, emotional, pictorial lines.
with love
Ian T
Butterfly (Nelly Sachs)
What beautiful beyond
is painted in your dust.
Through the earth’s fiery core,
through her stony chalice
you have been delivered,
parting web of transience’s measure.
Butterfly
all creatures’ good night!
Your wings carry
the weight of life and death
as you descend onto the rose
that is fading with the homewards ripening light.
What beautiful beyond
is painted in your dust.
What royal sign
in air’s secret.
One for you too Anna
You shine like nature’s art
the best
from north to south
and east to west
to us a butterfly so fine
as Anna Kailashana
thine oh Neopoets
watch this spot
she’s neither a comma (a butterfly too)
nor a dot
but words on words
so full of love
thrown to us in garlands
from above.
Love Anushka
song and logo
Ma’am
do u mean to say ur composing a song of my poem
or u have written one and have u noticed i have included my logo too howz it its from newyork some shops frontal view
in any case how will i hear ur song
some guy had also made one of my poems into a song on triond
www.triond.com
lovelyhoney
hi, i’m new to neopoet and
hi, i’m new to neopoet and i’m trying to meet some people :) your writing is really good, and i hope you can give me some criticism on mine.
hope to talk soon – britt
poems
have u read anu of my poems yet pl do and comment thanks
Dear Anna
My mother, bless her soul, taught me to be polite … would you mind if I added you to my buddy list ? lol … sorry I know its stupid but I cannot NOT ask :) love and biggest hugz Jayne x x x x x
the prophet calls, off to reread its got my mind in a vice and wont let go lol :P
“We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves.
Lynn Hall” …
Dear Anna,
Congradulations on your election to the AEC. I do hope you enjoy your term.
Brian
Dearest Anna
Congrates on your election to the AEC and I know your going to do a wonderful job and cannot wait to see the next three months unfold :)
love and higgest bugs Jayne x x
Don’t know if I ever
Don’t know if I ever answered, how could my heart’s daughter from Australia NOT be my bud?????
We’ll see…..
(My epitaph, however, will be: “I wonder what she sees.”
Hugs, Anna
Hi
Thankyou for your comment. What a compliment! :) I’ve added you to my buddy list. I’m going to read your poetry and I’ll try to give my best critiques.
Dearest Anna
Just wanted to share the poem I wrote for you,I wanted to surprise you lol read it first, then decide if its any good no one else has read it …
with my love my heart Jayne x x x
You shine the stars
with the sight of your smile,
pilgrims will walk
a long many mile
To hear the stories
you speak with love
with a grasp on meaning
most only dream off
Setting yourself free
from all form,
you blow in the winds
and glitter the storm
You calm the oceans
with your touch,
and nothing ever
is too much
You sing concertos
through my mind,
within the words
you lay sublime
You crash my heart
into the rocks,
as darkness calls you
sometimes we flock
A glint of light
stolen from the skies,
graces the iris
to brighten your eyes
In tales of lore
and truth in light,
you bring me peace
throughout all nights
with love Jayne-Chloe x x x
Thank you for this sweetest
Thank you for this sweetest gift….. paraphrasing the words of Bill & Ted (Excellent Adventure). “Be excellent to each another, and you always are.”
Now, my darling Lady Jayne, please gather the universal energy of healing love
and BE WELL. May your illness already have disappeared. THIS MOMENT.
Forever Love,
Anna
Huni I am just glad you
Huni I am just glad you liked it … its not edited yet but will do a full edit with a little help I have just received and put it in stream tomorrow night (huggles) you are loved beautiful lady more than you know
Love Jayne x x x
Short Story - The Burden of the Secret.
I wish, if you could read my short story and make your comments, so that it would be of immense help for me to improve my writing. Thank you. Albert.
You need a press secretary..:-)
Hi Anna,
I did add you as a buddy and didnt even bother to ask..how rude but i dont think you will mind.
I too have had all of my lifes questions answered (except 1 which is not terribly important at present). I once chewed on a spiritual question for ten years……got the answer though.
One of my favourite lines is from the Matrix - You sense that something is not quite right with the world ….like a splinter in your mind.
Thats how I felt until grabbed a bunch of keys and unlocked a few doors.
take care
Stuart (you nailed me on my profile comment….couldnt have written it better myself…shhh dont tell anyone lol)
Because I am terminally insane (:
Hello (:
Thank you for your comment.
As a worshipper of your poetry who only recently had the confidence to galvanise myself into action to say something (I may not be able to write a poem if anyone even thinks Diwali is bad… but I have my ways ;) ), I learned there is this thing called the buddy list.
Momma raised me polite, so I shall inquire if I may add you to my buddy list, and hasten to add that, good God, but it would make it a lot easier to keep finding your latest additions ;)
(Seek is a technological idiot. Is all.)
Sincerely,
-Seek
(Anything extremely odd may be attributed to my quirky sense of humor (: )
To all my fellow poets who
To all my fellow poets who have written words of love on my page, I say thank you.
I say, I am glad to meet you once again…
Love and Light,
Anna
“…when it agrees with reason and it will benefit one and all, then accept it and live by it.”
~ Buddha
words of love on the page...
Anna, I’ve been a Zendividual for much of my adult life.
It’s one of the reasons I am not more financially set up.
I feel silly to blow my own horn, or put myself above others.
Still, I am a seeker, and I put my learning into my work.
Therefor, I invite you to find any and all words of love,
either obvious or implied, in my poetry.
Know that they are for you, and people who try hard to partake
of the great principle of one.wcw
Dandelion
Hey, liking very much your dandelion–makes me think of Carl Sagan and Cosmos…
:-,?
Just getting my house in
Just getting my house in order … putting things where they should be
For my Annamomma (huggles)
Until the battle recedes
no more
and the earth has tilted
beyond its axis,
when the wind
gusts to appall
as in ancient
history,
forgotten
I shall remember,
As a muniment
of minutes
broke,
the sheath of silk
covering my id,
unveiled the majesty
and wonder,
ambrosia
energy flowing
in neon tubes
Revealed
in the pain
and suffering
an atom of joy,
You
————————
All my Love always Jaughter mwah x x x
Dear Kailashana
Dear Kailashana I would very much like to be buddies with you, I very much admire your work, and how prolific you are. My two favourites are (if I have to pick a favourite) “Dawn” and “Snake” The mudgods cooking in the noonday sun and the glassbacked serpent in the verdigree. I am also a snake in the I-Ching so maybe this is another reason for loving this poem. But seriously you have a descriptive power which is beautiful and rare these days. Hope to hear from you soon Love Dalton.
Dear Kailashana
Dear Kailashana that I think is the highest aim for any artist to create a religious experience within the heart of its reader. Thankyou for your praise it is especially significant coming from you. Someone with your gift. Love Dalton.
thank you for inviting me
thank you for inviting me in.
xT
Wow your comment to wierd
Wow your comment to wierd elf about his time poem blew me away, poem within a poem ; )
poems
have u not read any more of my poems as i see no comments kindly do and thanks now i am getting a hang around here i shall read urs too thanks
the mourning after
thank you for your kind words…..
Pardonez-moi, but I
Pardonez-moi, but I forgot… what were we disagreeing about?
Fingers….then, it’s all about letting the *it* flow through the digits, yes?
~A
Don’t let your victories go to your head, or your failures go to your heart.
I think I like you
I think I like you BillyLevine.
Is that good enough?
~A
Don’t let your victories go to your head, or your failures go to your heart.
Goodnight Mum … thank you
Goodnight Mum … thank you for everything … wont be round much today have the funeral in a few hours so I just wanted to thank you before bed and my email wouldnt load lol probably blew up
love you (((((((((((((((huggles)))))))))))
Jayne x x x
Hahaha,
I recognize the need to have the last say ;)
Sister soul! Feel embraced.
Yours,
~Nina
Dear Ms. Ruiz:
Where are the pantoum roses of which you speak? Please advise.
Expectantly,
Arrow