Cricket chirps folding
one over another
an endless rubbing

cicadas tap tap tap
a secret code
stop - start - clicking

cars swoosh past
one after the other
coming then leaving

owls who, who, whooo
asking for reply
always questioning

wind ruffling leaves
tousling the branches
affectionately brushing

this world sings
love songs to the stars
sounding in my ears

I fill with this love
adding my own part
my soul resonates

this is the song
God sings to me
because I listen

harmony settles over
chaos from the day
darkness brings peace

Artifice of Love

Don't fall in love with the you reflected in my eyes,
that's not fair to the me that falls in love with what's before me.

Don't tell me what I want to hear you say,
I'm just what you always wanted - you adore me.

Don't pave the path of days ahead with ideas of love,
I'll believe them seeing flaws in me when you ignore me.

Don't take my honest heart and words to feed your ego,
I'll give them sincerely in faith you understand me.

Don't weave a tale, idyllic, to keep from being lonely,
I'll feel it's true and think you truly love me.

Don't hurt the heart which believes despite what eye sees,
I'll mourn and grieve so hard it bleeds me.

Don't deceive - it's cruel to hurt a truthful soul,
Just let me be to live my dream alone - it suits me.

Don't paint for me your artifice of  love. 

Attic

Wooden stairs curve into mystery

sunlight's beams beckon the curious

through the doorway see possibility

relics of past lives hold secrets forgotten

calling to now - a shout to heart from memory

lump in throat holding desire to explore

excitement awaits with fear as its company

creaking first step announces the present

into the past, present seeks probability

learning truth through reflections concrete.

Sun Bring Peace

That stroke of morning
first moment of a new day
memory lives here like moving pictures
moving the heart to beat a little faster
moving the mind to wander into the next
moment.

Eye lids weighted
sleep creeps warmly over
dreams wait to sift through thoughts
thinking framed by perception
perception turns on its self, into the act of
transcendence.

Sun of tomorrow,
I pray,
Bring Peace.

Get Lost

Why am I punished for the sins of another?

Was Eve's sin so sinister?

Was it so evil to want knowledge?

Her sin was mistrust.

Mistrusting her maker.

Mistrusting her gut.

Mistrusting the truth.

Truth is so plain that it's hard to see.

You look for complexity,

but the simple truth is beautiful.

Wisdom is denying one's self,

accepting truth - simplicity.

Ignorance blunders and stumbles,

it misses the light while searching dark corners,

it wonders what it all means -

but it means nothing.

Love - that's what it is.

It's not a concept,

it's not what you think,

it's a feeling that flows like a tide,

the wise let go and ride,

sometimes they drown,

but they die happy.

The ignorant live miserable,

one scheme flows into another,

at the end of this effort there's a reward -

or so they believe -

but the simple fact that they fail to perceive?

It's that one must only stand still,

open themselves to the gifts they are given,

and take them and pass them along to the next,

then they find their place in the pattern,

the pattern that is simply happiness.

Lose yourself and find your way. 

Do You Feel It?

Do you know what it is to feel?

Not to touch and recognize a texture,

but to feel the grains of sand against your skin,

to absorb the warmth of them,

to consider the place from which they came,

to imagine the forces of nature that left them there,

to absorb the power of the earth through the soles of your feet.

To open your mind to the small and miraculous wonders of the world,

this is to live a life of fullness.

Do you feel me?

I feel the energy of the Universe surround me,

flowing through me,

depositing notions of greatness in my mind,

urging me to push forward and put them into action,

making me a portal for the greatness of humankind,

driving me to explore the earth and the heavens with my mind,

to feel it on my skin - dirt, air, flesh,

the soul of it is close to mine,

I'm never alone as long as I keep my heart open,

I'm in touch with the wisdom of those who came before,

I need it to take it a step further,

I feel. I feel. I feel.

Pain, pleasure, loss, joy -

I enjoy all of these emotions in the form of a swelling within,

They swell and seep out of me in words and deeds.

I'm human,

I celebrate this world with you and invite you to feel it with me. 

Tolerance

Extend grace to those who don't comprehend you,
wisdom is always simple,
seeing only your place in the pattern may leave you blind to its beauty,
your knowledge is for sharing - not overcoming,
be open to what others offer,
love is a the gateway to enlightened reality,
the tool for success is kindness,
love for an enemy doesn't diminish your strength,
it makes weakness obsolete,
open ears and minds to what others offer,
and find the path to peace that all hearts seek.

Sometimes I Dream

Sometimes I Dream.

I dream I'm living a life underwater,
all of my words are muffled
my screams emerge as bubbles
my limbs are restrained by pressure
my punches fly without force
my lungs empty
I breath in water and begin drowning
panic rules this dream.

I dream I can fly,
I take a deep breath in cool air
trees and houses become playthings
the world looks like a model below
I soar apart from the earth
light and free I look on - silent
I exhale and descend into reality
breath in and return to heaven
peace rules above chaos.

I dream I'm invisible,
I wander among strangers
watch them shop, eat, chat, complain
they walk among crowds longing to be alone
they ride alone in cars wishing for companions
busy with their own inventions
they stumble through the days
they look down and worry they'll drown
they look up and dream of flying away. 

The Reminder

I met a woman the other day from Vietnam, 

I asked her how she liked America.

She told me she liked it very much, 

she told me about her homeland,

she told me how her father longed to come here,

she told me how grateful she was to be raising her children here,

she told me about the poor in her country,

how they are turned away at the hospital for having no money,

how they die in the streets of simple infections,

how they must pay in cash for justice,

how the abandoned children are left to the pity of strangers,

how food is scarce and people are hungry,

how oppression has left her country in shambles,

a beautiful place she says - but not so nice. 

I asked her why she liked America, 

does it bother her when she hears people complain?

She smiled and said she is grateful to live here,

where poor children are fed and don't have to go hungry,

where doctors are there for all who are ill,

where opportunities for all allow her to succeed,

where justice is flawed - but served to all - just the same,

She didn't understand how any person, 

could live in such a wonderful country 

and ever complain. 

When you think of your country,

what comes to mind? 

Taxes? Laws? Scandals? Just Flaws?

I think of this woman, her father, her children,

and I'm grateful that she reminded of the true value of my freedom.

Desert of Days

I wander through this desert of these days,
surrounded by others, things, small pleasures -
this landscape where I'm seen - and overlooked,
remains unconcerned with what lurks below the surface -
below the calm.

A storm rages inside me - yet I keep my peace -
control is an illusion one must master.

I wander through this desert of these days,
seeking, yet concealing my search - from me, from them, from you -
this struggle lies below the tide of thinking - in the sea of feeling -
unable to extinguish burning questions only time can answer -
I wander on.

A thirst builds inside me - growing ever greater -
waiting to be quenched by your kiss. 

Melancholy

Ache, a bruise in the throat -
a hole in the heart,
radiates to the eyes - the flow starts -
release toxic pain of loss.

Past has power you give it,
recall it,
see lessons,
you don't have to relive it.

Today's not a day for joy,
it's a time to reflect -
let wisdom gained overpower
what pain tries to infect.

Mom, Mother, Mamma - For my Ma on Mother's Day!

Mom, mother, mamma - however you say it, it means love.

It's the kind of love that heals,

the kind of love that feels

the pain and joy of those it holds

in loving arms a mother folds

her child - be them big or small -

a mother's love can not recall

a record of past ills or wrongs,

a mother's love lasts all life long.

I love you mother and I pray,

that you find joy and peace in every day.

Happy Birthday on The Twelfth of May - for my big brother.

My brother, born on twelfth of May,

I'm thankful for you every day.

I'm thankful for your smiling eyes, 

for big bear hugs and long goodbyes,

for days spent under sunny skies,

and nights spent catching fire flies,

for a love that never, ever, dies,

for freckled noses and green eyes -

my brother, born on twelfth of May,

I'm thankful for you every day!

Organism

Scent of hair and flesh,

like dirt and trees and sky, 

fills lungs with water,

drowning in emotions,

mislead by tales of lovers,

on sugar coated oceans,

that never really were.

This animal of feeling,

which particles absorb,

filter through to blood

pump through lungs to heart,

two bodies - one plane,

sensory overload,

synapses in the brain

threaten to explode --

drown it out with sound,

beat it out in verbs,

adjectives abound,

dancing on the nerves,

travel through the soles

of feet upon life's path,

ragged, worn - disbelieving -

the pain in aftermath.

Left with shattered bits,

concepts once believed,

new realms of depth in feelings

in pleasures pain's perceived.

The Choice

Oh, Pride, you go before I fall,

you show me meaning in failings,

you tell me of my darkest side,

you leave me bleeding and wailing.

Oh, humility, you tell me who I am,

you enlighten me with wisdom,

you hold me in my foolishness,

you sooth my wounds and heal them. 

Oh, love, you show me why I live,

you carry me through trying days,

you wrap me in your perfect grace,

you transcend all imperfect ways.

Oh, hate, you linger in dark places,

you work at chinks in armor,

you pick and grind at sanity's door,

but you cannot match love's ardor.

 Though darkest forces pry at me,

I will purposefully rise above,

this life is mine to live as I please;

I choose humility and love,

 

 

???

Who are you?

Where do you dwell?

In my mind only?

In reality as well? 

Why do you plague me?

What do you fear?

Where did you come from?

Why do I hear

these voices and choices

that clutter my brain-

thoughts ramble on

like a run away train.

Mystery darkens 

the way on my path;

the fates know what's there

their mercy or wrath -

the joy of  their favor?

I stumble along

each day I grow stronger.

The bitter sweet flavor

of tragedy -- then joy-

I have only been seen

as a player's play toy.

I know that's not true,

I'm a diamond - not rough,

one day you will see me,

that must be enough.

The Generation of Disappointed

http://amoretdoesntdrawwell.deviantart.com/

This is the generation of disappointed,
with hearts of stone, and minds disjointed;
with belief of non-believers anointed;
their leaders of inverted virtue appointed.

They're all so different -
they're the same;
they make the rules and deny their game;
they dig their holes and others blame;
they light their fires and fear the flame.

They walk in darkness - fluorescent sun;
they live for gain - and leave with none;
their hope lies in lies - the truth they shun;
They can't see value, their game has won.

The prize? More lies to sooth the sorrow;
the cynical cycle starts again tomorrow;
few break free and most just borrow;
they're crippled by their soul's great cargo.

Broken Neck

Restless feeling visits,

chase it away with a pill,
soul - sad and broken,
with wine your spirit fill,
hide away -
your trouble stays,
so when in doubt
just count the days,
time will pass,
your soul attends
this solemn mass,
in tortured silence,
hope's neck broken
by  mind's violence.

Disapointed Dreams

There's comfort here,
yes, even here -
amidst uncertainty and fear -
melancholy - this disease,
here amongst green and budding trees
of spring who cry out natures hope,
all the while the hopeless rope
of sadness hugs my
fragile neck,
old friend of mine
he visits me and keeps my soul
from being free.
With sorrows disappointment brings
the death knell of my
childish dreams -
dreams concocted by girlish heart
whose demise began before the start,
yet, they start, and start, and start again -
oh, disappointment - lifelong friend,
you never fail me,
here you stay,
and keep those girlish dreams at bay.

Solemn Mass for the Sad of Heart

Skeleton trees hold dawn in their clutches.
Surreal and tenuous grasp on reality.
Eyes struggle to relate to the mind,
the earth spins and with it time.
What melancholy covers mirth?
Pull it off my soul,
this blinding control
the clock has over freedom.
Landscape stretches ahead.
The dark of night has had its say.
The challenge of the new day
lays before, draw a breath -
smoke burns my eyes and fills my chest.
Red blood wine pours down my throat,
It fills my brain's crimson mote,
numbs my soul so pain grows dim,
this is the saddest requiem,
be still - wait - time will pass
and end this melancholy mass.

Unreal Reality

Perception's limit expands to encompass

unfathomable magnitudes of existence

Art by Ben Heine

dreams barely recalled upon waking

clock draws us on in linear motion

mind lives inside a world untamed by time

thoughts tumble and travel forward and back

unencumbered by laws which rule the world

imagine the magic that lives in the atom

material life filled with mystery-unseen

felt in the soul of every human

longing to know that which is unknown

in the stars of night skies a feeling of wonder

we're so small, yet so vast our potential to feel

miracles of life fill every moment

soul's eyes see what this feeling reveals

This is reality - nothing is real. 

Miraculous You

Mind always reaching for connections,
in each of you I see a Universe-
a melody of elements converging
into a symphony unique - beautiful.

Eyes taking in the tangible reality,
hair, eyes, hands, body,
features combined making the visibly you,
I see parts of me, he, and she there - breathtaking.

Ears absorb the sound of your ideas,
music of who you are soothes me,
your thoughts expressed in language
composed into the you I know - amazing.

Arms folding you into embrace,
I hold the Universe of you close -
my emotion flows between us in harmony,
I enfold the whole that is you - miraculous.

Unceasingly surprised by your genius,
I take no credit for the wonder of you,
I thank God for the miracle that you are,
I count myself blessed to know you - love. 

Miss You

"Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there was
A time when it was not."
-Emily Dickinson

An element of blank.

That is what is left.

I pass it by and glance,

the void is hard to miss,

it rests upon my lips

where you left your kiss.

It walks beside my shadow,

calling to my heart,

it was born into existence

at the moment of your depart.

I try hard not to look

avert my glance to the horizon,

it will follow me I know

until I lay my eyes on

your sweet smiling face,

until then time shall pass,

I'll wait for your embrace,

and live the life I'm in,

until the moment comes

when you return again.

My Destiny, My Creation

In this world of chaos

I find myself often at a loss,

for those who leave me wounded

and never know the cost.

I take comfort in the happiness

that I find each day.

I pick up bits of joy

I find along my way,

with my friends, my family

those ones I hold so dear -

When I reach out to them

they are always near.

The comfort of the small things

the beauty of the sun

the rising of the moon

when this day is done

brings dreams I weave into

a tale that is my own.

Inside my own creation

is where I find my home. 

So here I leave you reader

with advice I give myself,

don't waste a moment wishing,

put grief on sorrow's shelf.

Take hold of that you wish for

and make it all your own.

Pave the road to your dreams

with your hands - and your's alone.

Love of Apollo

The sun radiates energy

refracted into heart

transformed into warmth

melting coldness from soul

waves of tranquility

fold over

chill departs

spectrum of energy

colored by glass

through mind

through body

these colors pass

unique chroma

reflect from these here

colors blend in this atmosphere

becoming you, becoming me

becoming who is meant to be.

My Irish Grandpa

Rows of plants in Mississippi sunshine,

tangles of dew berries hanging on thorny vine,

overalls stand tall, boots colored with rich soil,

bowls of fruit with sugar sprinkles,

hot coffee with oatmeal,

trips to city hall to talk about business,

trips to the mall for ice cream cones,

salt and pepper hair, skin quilted with wear,

rough hands and Sunday suits,

singing loud with voice so bold:

"Way down upon the Suwannee River,

far, far, away,

that's where my heart is turning ever,

that's where the old folks stay."

Far away is where he stays,

perhaps we'll meet again some day,

we will walk in the garden to pass through time,

we will eat from thorny dew berry vines,

we may sing or be silent - I can't be sure,

My Irish Grandpa, I adore.

The King of Green

This man.

This man who smelled of wood and coffee,

who loved his people and his friends,

who cared for creatures great and small,

who always had a hand or time to lend,

who listened slowly to other's stories,

who told his own with wit and grace,

who always had the kindest words,

who saw the silver lining first,

who had a soul sent straight from heaven,

who spoke to each as if the only,

who made time for play and sun and flowers,

who never hurried but did things quickly,

who fixed the broken while saving the parts,

This man had a lion's heart.

He had a patience never matched,

a humble soul, a mind so sharp,

he's missed by all who ever knew him.

He's missed by me, his life was art.

The Queen of Purple

The last kiss I pressed to her forehead,

surrounded by people in a sterile place,

lines of pain mark her face,

eyes clamped closed in restless sleep,

time her sweetness couldn't keep,

love colored pain filled me whole,

sorrow dug it's hateful hole,

Her wisdom, spirit, her grace did fill

my sun colored memories of her -

they will

continue on through me to mine,

I'll carry her through until such time

when I must go, must hold the hope,

that through my family's memory rope

her royal purple happy thread

will carry forward when I'm dead. 

The Narcissist

Garments of arrogance never flatter,

take off your pride and know your place.

Through your eyes your high above them, 

this leaves you in sub-level space.

Face forward, chin high, truth overlooks you,

her shadow colors you a fool.

A victim to your self deceptions, 

your image leaves you blind to all.

Such narcissistic self perceptions,

 raise you high for your steep fall.  

Humble

Memory stretches ahead

future blank

past filled

blonde heads

sunshine

broken spirit

trial

revival

fall again

get up

get stronger

ignorant, stumbling idiot

remember, you don't know

be humble

or you won't grow

dream careful

watch the heart

watch the tounge

dodge the dart

help the weak

reward you seek

will blossom

inside

when you lose pride.

White Picket Fence

Pretty portrait painted,
picket fences white,
yard full of flowers,
no sign of a fight,
cloudless blue sky,
smiling face,
I wanted to live in this place.

On the wall of my mind
picture is hung,
as insult and greed
through youth were flung,
kept my eye on ideals,
plotted my course,
not knowing
the real estate
of my mind was a farce.

Banked all my efforts,
eye on the prize,
not seeing truth
before my eyes.

 Beginning to dig
for what's real in this life,
I found myself truly
reborn through my strife.
Take a step back,
excavation reveals
all those old worn out
and tired ideals.
I throw in what's died
hold dear what remains
cover it over
and survey my gains:

Truth, Love, and Peace,
they live in this world.

This isn't the dream of a delusional girl. 

Contrary Evolution

I am a survivor,
I am defeated,
I am a dreamer
I am gifted with ideas,
I am a woman of intentions,
I am a student of the Universe,
I am a lover of things natural,
I am a mother of men,
I am a sister to warriors,
I am the daughter of  heroes,
I am the friend of all I find,
I am a gentle soul,
I am a fierce defender,
I am unworthy of my blessings,
I am grateful despite this,
I am a noble woman,
I am a humble servant,
I am a silly girl,
I am a wise human, 
I am a walking contradiction,
I am more than I can tell you,
I am less than I could be,
I am a being who contains a fragment of the divine,
I am a symphony of flaws and perfection,
I am evolving into the person I will be tomorrow.

Two a.m.

                                                     You have a heart that longs to settle,

a mind that begs to wander,

a wisdom that tells them both to accept

that control is an illusion,

the racket of this argument

leaves a constant state of confusion.