Tag Archives: poetry

Blind-sighted

I see you every once in a while in the Otherwhere.
The place that isn’t here or there or somewhere or anywhere.
It’s just Other.

Soul pictures

Soul pictures

It has the pres(c)ents of Christmas trees and home cooked feasts.
It smells of beloved familial hugs, pas-s-s-sionately presented embraces
It laughs a babbling brook of foolish happiness punctuated with excitement marks!!!!
It offers kaleidoscopic shows of  vernacular laced paragraphs with buntings of (these)
Still, sometimes, I know (though I don’t know), I see both you and me.
Not in the way that makes you triple check your doors; throwing the deadbolt
Not in the way that keeps you window to window pacing floors; with naked paranoia
but in the way that allows the meditation of the forest to seep into the spirit of indulging ideas
reaping benefits of beauty as only gypsy tribe of poets can explore it.
I see you every once in a while in the Otherwhere.

(inspired by: http://urbanpoetrees.com/2014/12/31/disciple-less-prophets/ )

Ms. Marble

Marbles

Marbles

If I could be a marble in a bag around a child’s waist

propounding challenge to my peers like an alchemist

whose recipe for destruction lay in my bulging satchel

filled with conquests found in the sandpit battlefield

of my childhood playground, dominated by concentrated

versions of precisely aimed shots using one inch of glass

and stick drawn circles of boundaries no other should cross.

If I were a marble in a sack around my childhood waist

I would be a peerie of blue green that made them lose

as they wondered at my ocean colors splashing their spirits free

through the distractions of the wildly colored cat’s eyes

that stared back at them with deadened stares emptied

of life, unlike me, who shined and waved like the open sea

And they would avoid hitting me with their knocker’s sin

because who doesn’t want Mother Ocean to win?

being in the moment while being in the moment

This is not my work, but it struck me so I’m sharing. This is captured just right. I should remember this day…Isn’t that how it is? Just an ordinary day when an ordinary person sits up and realizes that today, like every other day, is the only day and this is the only moment.

This sings not with a note but with a melody. It dances on the staff of life and truth as it always has. Thank you for reminding me that today my job, like every other day, is to sit up and remember that today is the day. Now is the moment.

being in the moment while being in the moment.

i should remember
today
like i should recall each day.
as the day,
i changed a little,
i learned a little,
and got my soul
to being a little more whole,
not even concerned
with being holier,
as long as i learn, expand, develop and GROW
like the plants in our garden.
from beginning to the end
to be a part of the message
that’s going to change the world.

i should recall today
as not just any other day,
as how i should perceive each and every day
like the day, i chose to change the way
i saw everything and learned to finally
see everything.

02.15.11.

Rippled Reflections

He speaks his own language

one filled with nonsense

and fanciful words like “fisticuffs”

He speaks through snippets

short jokes with punctuation

obvious as a war zone

He speaks in varying voices

that change with the characters

telling the story of his truth

He speaks with the stones

but he doesn’t trust them

Their wisdom lost to self-doubt

He speaks with the voice of Kings

ruling the alleyways wearing

tin-foil crowns that are often trampled

secret messages passed through his paranoia

clipping words like newspaper headlines

He speaks of dreams imposed

impressed, imbibed, truly intimate

flourishing in friendly fanatacism

He speaks in questions queried

in response to what he requests

Directness skitters him on a hot skillet

running like a cockroach from the light

He speaks in the symbols of aliens

collected in straight line rainbows

elaborately and tediously assembled

He speaks through the silence of the unforgiven

lost to the world of good will and hope

to the world of dark despair disguised as survival

the foundations built on lies he tells himself

to secure the warmth of a lost memory

that never existed.

Unkempt

I hate that the wound I thought was scarred was torn open with Christmas glee

while his wreck of appearance desecrated my safe haven, my holy place, my privacy.

He pulled up a truck to my front windows and loaded it with trash from their home

While I made sure not to move the blinds but with caution because I’m alone.

Seeing him made my heart crumple up like worthless discarded paper

at least as far as he’s concerned,

All I wanted to be for him was a guide as his empowered future shaper.

I wanted to be a guardian of the light I saw within him,

but from his mind, and through his eyes, his light is just too dim.

And so I sit crying while he drives off across the grass of my house

with another bag of garbage leaving wisdom non-espoused.

Fire Walkers

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Once they were lost in pain and sorrow

Once they denied it, no joy to borrow

Once they’d forgotten who they were

Once they left for freedom unsure

Once they were nothing but frightened

Once they were hurting and raw

Once they were banished by self-induced exile

Once they were blind to what they saw

Once they rejected a healing touch

Once they gave in to what seemed too much

Once they refused of life to play a part

Once they closely guarded their jaded hearts.

We sing:

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Once they were left broken and crying

Once they were deluged with the lying

Once they felt left out in the cold

Once they were rejected for being so bold

Once they were chastised for their thinking

Once they were left to their addictions and drinking

Once they refused the hand that was offered

Once they had drained all of false-love’s coffers

Once they’d gotten lost in the days

Once they felt overcharged and way underpaid

Once they found comfort in self destructive ways

Once they refused to kneel and pray.

Now they sing:

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Now that freedom is here with you

Now we can help release pain from you

Come join in the dance of the Firewalkers

Come join in the song of the giving

Come join in the joy of the fearless talkers

Come join your hearts of the living

Pssst! I wanna show you something

Yesterday I worked hard on rearranging, moving, stuffing, cutting, thinking, and mostly trying to figure out my vision. At the end of several hours, I’m well on my way to getting things where I’d like them to be. With less than two months to go to modify, I want to make sure that I’ve done my homework, have it just so. 2014 has been a monumental year for me. I’ve collected my works, some previously unreleased work, and art from myself, friends, and some not-yet-met friends.

Sneak Peak at the numbers

Sneak Peak at the numbers

This doesn’t include the art or the graphics, just what I’ve created this year with a few surprises to myself. I’m so excited, I wanted to share this with you.

Professional Writer of Eulogies

I’ve started a business called Pro-WoE.

Pro-WoE was founded to aid distressed families facing the loss of a loved one. The daunting task of memorializing the deceased in a speech can make that absence even more difficult to bear. With compassionate heart, sincere sympathy, and gentle coaxing, Pro-WoE can help you create a memorable speech written for posterity to pass on to the generations so that they too can “know and love” your dear one.

We at Pro-WoE offer customized Eulogies, Life Tributes, Memorial Poems, and Life Story Obituaries that honor the time you and your family shared with your loved one. We thank you for considering Pro-Woe services to help ease the burden of your loss.

In addition, we also offer services to those who have lost a beloved four-legged family member. We feel that any loss should be honored appropriately and strive to give the families a written keepsake that acknowledges the absence.

You can contact me regarding pricing at: +1-877-820-8038 or by email at prowoefounder@gmail.com

First

http://sd.keepcalm-o-matic.co.uk/i/keep-calm-i-m-number-one.png

(Source)

 

A first kiss,

A first glance

a first I love you,

a first dance.

A first breath taken

a first naked sight,

a first cuddle session

a first all night

a first hand held

a first hugged tight

a first tear falling

a first real fight

a first point of forgiveness

a first letting go

a first remembrance

a first icy floe

a first heart joining

a first sacrifice

a first combining

a first paradise

a first real knowing

a first wedding band

a first adult growing

a first real stand

a first decade together

a first homestead

a first storm weathered

a first child bred

a first job taken

a first car bought

a first laugh sated

a first joke caught

a first illness battled

a first bill of cost

a first realization

a first fear of loss

a first grateful heart

a first hand held so tight

a first comfort given

a first done just right.