Revelation

By Scott Vanya

In around 1997 while working for a Texas state agency a dear friend of mine asked to see some of poetry. I told "I have more than I can show you after writing for 20 years." She said, "Well, pick out the best ones and show me those." So I took her at her word, and spent the better part of a few months going through all my work to get the ones I thought were my favorites and ones she would like.
"Revelation" is not so much nor intended to be religious but only that it is an accurate "revealing" of who I am and what I stand for.
So with that in mind (though some what outdated now), these poems represent my better nature and are an exploration of the soul as I see that to be.
From one heart, this one, to yours, that one.
The book I hope will give you food for thought and help you to lift your eyes sometime and see what a miraculous and wonderful place, this earth, we live in is.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott Vanya
• Release date: Apr 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311689047

Scott Vanya

I've been writing for a very long time, what seems like my whole life, taking it seriously from the time I was about 11. Now, at 46, I think I may be starting to get the hang of it: Say what you feel, as passionately as you can, but always with an ear turned to those who are listening.Most of my more serious work is done at live performances, which i do totally extemporaneously, channeling the mood of the room as my fingers play on the guitar. You can see some of that if you go to "my" website. (Open Mics Austin is a platform I created to showcase the Spoken Word scene here in Austin, TX. Only a small role in which i play.)As far as I can tell what makes good writing is LOVE. Love ,plainly simply, and with no strings attached.I put these words/books before you, not so much because I want something back from it, because I think and feel like I feel my bones and my soul, if you were to see the world, experience it like it do, for even a brief moment, you would walk away from that happier, more alive, compassionate and in tune with all those around you.Peace, good will, and harmony. Let those be your guiding light.Agape forever,Scott VanyaPublication Credits:Stepping Stones Magazine, The Main Street Rag, www.carcinogenicpoetry.com, Texas Art Initiative, Phoenix New Life Poetry, Walt’s Corner, Manna, Perigee, Chicago Literary Review, Mobius, Cosmic Trend, Pitchfork, Romantics Quarterly, Artisan, Pegasus, The Neovictorian, Red Owl, The Story Teller, The Blind Man's Rainbow, Atlantic Pacific Press

Book preview

REVELATION

 

Scott Vanya

 

Copyright Scott Vanya 2016

 

Published at Smashwords

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Seeing the set adriftWhat once was empty spaceParadiso Ad IncarnataeBefore Goingwhere is the water ripple freeChuckleI SingNo, I shall not curse TheeI am happy in this momentcarrier pigeonTomb of the Unknown SoldierIn the marginCould the nightWithout Fearlesson of a good thingWith this, this memory no morewill carry usZealot, Your wound I'm trying to healthere is such a cool and arid placeThis StudioThere Where the Tree Meets the GroundIn the margin (2)for every thought I have of LoveGruntAnvil and Forgeas the years passLike nothing elseTransbluesencyMy wife is with butterflyShangra-La is FallingHe leaned from the window's ledgeThe Music of the Knocking BoatsWith wings I cleaveMy Love for YouFlickerGod shed his graceWhen God nodded offOh, But How Do I Name TheeContinuingShort story you might have heard before . . .Hey You! Stand back from My CarcassHave made me cryWhat once was...memy love of sunlightIt is GoodEmpty chapel

Seeing the set adrift

 

 

On the cut of the umbilical chord

the boat is set adrift

never a captain

nor first mate

floating

eternally later

asking after the skipper

and his crew.

Oh, when, oh when

refrain it goes

will the shipmates

one or many come aboard.

 

And always later

where, oh, where

did the tow rope go

where, oh, where

is the anchor

the boat, only the boat,

I don't know

I just don't know.

 

This vessel

set adrift

whose shore exists

from disembark

in my center, in my belly

only the waves

the moon,

the moon, the waves,

the clouds

only empty boats

empty boats

knocking about.

 

-svanya

---

Previous:Next

What once was empty space

 

 

The Current of Time

is a creek bed meandering toward me.

The Present is a water spider

skitting as best she can

yet remaining here against the flow.

I am the death-cloaked shepherd

laying in a field of wild grass

with his life in the jaws of the wolf

all of which this stream

carries away

like the good would

tumbling past

the spider,

and disappearing

around the bent back

of the old river

who was once a shepherd.

I have stared past the precipice

of solitude

and found that God

is love of You.

In the moment of happiest

creation

my eyes are filled with your flowers blooming.

As young as Time is now

let us play the sheep

that gets away,

and go off searching

for water.

Whether we drink deep gulps

or allow our tongues to dangle there.

Perhaps our sighs

once we are quenched . . . ?

let God form

a fine fleece

of softest gray

and we will also nudge

our lambs to the udder.

If we continue

this journey

our flock will be a good one.

And any eddy or whorl

in time's flow

will disappear

and cause the spider no grievance.

 

How might I recline here

my arm around your shoulder

and count the stars with you,

and letting them too

arc across our faces

having no gut-feeling

for the small distances of recorded hatch marks

where the space of our unified

being,

Is As It Is.

As it has always been.

Love born prior

to heaven and earth

aging through heaving and tumblings

(aging of ours)

let us do it together,

and once we have delved

the two skin fabric of our breathings

and found good warmth there

forever pretend

to be no more

than flesh born.

Rapt

because time has no qualm with us

and Still because

hell has broken

granite and marble