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Archive | Various Poetry

I Belong to this Moment

I belong to this moment.

All of it, every second

And every part of me.

I am totally in this now

As if my life depended on it

Because it does…

I belong to this moment.

Not any part of me is somewhere else

My thoughts are not on breakfast for tomorrow

I am not worrying about the stock market

Or how my hair will look after I take my hat off.

No part of me is fretting about something else

No part of me is thinking about someone else,

Or if I should be different than how I already am in this present moment,

No.

I am here.

I am Only here.

I belong to this moment.

And my life does depend on it

All of me is in All of this moment.

I feel my heart beating

I feel the blood moving through my veins

I feel the energy floating around me

And none of it is somewhere else.

In this crisp moment

There is only Here,

There is only Now

And I am in it

Totally!

Consumed!

In Awe!

I am not fragmented into shattered pieces, going a mile a minute

To every shore and every nation

Every cell a different place

Without focus on any one thing in particular.

No.

I am not scattered and shattered.

I find myself utterly here.

And I can breathe.

I can open my eyes further because they are both looking in the same direction

With me behind them.

I am in this moment so utterly complete

That I belong to it

And it belongs to me.

Lottery Loss Becomes Win/Win

Opulence, diamonds, golden dreams

of  Lottery Heaven….

– A quick way out

– A simple easy fix

– A Deus-ex-Machina

the kind in antiquated Greek dramas

where a God descends to save the day…

We weeped for the success

of the right numbers

that would instantly render life

completely fixed and perfect

in one Gigantic Instant,

like a shot of heroin

with only positive side effects.

I pulled for this.

I pulled so hard

my mind became a mush

of positive affirmations and Shangri La-like visualizations

Giving way to a Fantasy Reality

that would make any fairy tale pale in comparison.

I desired this.

I desired this so acutely

that my insides became

as intense as Victoria Falls.

 

The Quick Fix that

is like finding Happiness in a Box

in the middle of a barren desert

that instantly brings the oasis of Bliss.

But, the water to quench

the parched land

quickly became a Mirage.

An Illusion

like everything else

that gets me from day to day.

And yet this time….

I do get the Transformation.

I do get to see the

Addiction of the Quick Fix

And I get to lament instead

…on Reality

How it stares one in the face

even when we bow our heads

to avoid being blinded by it.

 

Yet, I know I’ll do this Again…

…and Again….

I know I’ll pull the Illusion

out from my heart

and put it into some Crazy Action

that I can Laugh at

when I am older and wiser.

 

In the meantime, I ride the illusion

like a surfer rides a wave,

Eager to catch the next one

for it to be perfect

and make life complete and neat,

in a well wrapped package

that makes sense and is orderly.

 

Instead, I go back to mine,

my life that is not orderly

and is at times incomprehensible.

But, here in the middle,

there is a heart

that still smiles when it has something to give.

 

And so Receiving from a Lottery Win

Becomes a warm, pleasant realization

that being able to Give

is the key to being Rich.

 

 

 

 

To the Little Girl

Little Girl, Beware and be weary

Do not believe what you hear from your friends

Who watch the movies and read the fairy tales that we forbid

Do not listen to their stories,

To their wishes and fancies, woes and complaints.

They will tell you about a world of love outside of themselves

Of men loving them and them only

Of their true love sweeping them off of their feet

Forever and ever and ever

Caught in a trance dance without feet

And no ground to call home

Just a whirlwind of wishes

Without realization nor reality.

Do not listen to their sorrows

To their sob stories of the aftermath of a high that has descended

To the destruction of their soul

Through the heart of pain and broken dreams.

Do not go where they go,

I forbid you to ruin your mind and taint your future.

You are not to find love outside of yourself in the whimsy of a hormonal male

Looking to fill his cup with an empty vase that can hold his essence

Do not be void of your own sense of fullness

Do not fall prey to the trance of chemical attraction

Wait and observe, witness and be patient

If love comes at all, let it come from a different place

Do not succumb to the death of your own will

By the mesmerizing dance of seduction

It is only temporary, but is like a poison that controls to no end

Stay steadfast on your own goal,

Stay strong in your own focus.

Love may come, if it comes at all

In a calmly cultivated package of meaningful truths

But never as a substitute for your own self-love

And never as a band aid to fill emptiness with illusion

 

 

No Rhyme, Just Reason

When we finally realize

that we’ve been given a life

-but for a long time

Lived it on another’s term

in another’s way

obligating our way to heaven

which never came anyway

Someday we realize

It’s all been a rhyme

we couldn’t wrap our beat around.

It seemed so trite and pointless,

rhyming words for no reason

just because they sounded the same

and looked similar

When we finally realize

ours doesn’t have to rhyme

nor does it have to have seams,

zippers, buttons, clasps and ties

to keep us all together

in seemingly one piece

I am not that.

But, I didn’t know it.

I didn’t know

that what really mattered to me

only mattered to me.

So I tried to make what mattered

stretch to other matters

Expand to matter to others.

When we finally realize

that some music

can only be heard by the one

playing it inside,

sometimes silently, sometimes loudly,

inside or outside,

it was only heard by the one.

When we finally realize

what matters

may only matter to us.

It Takes Courage

It took courage –

To let go of a past in a quick move forward,

A move that took forever to prepare for

But only a moment to take action.

There was a timely passage,

A now that pushed us

-Go!-

In that instant my two eyes became one

And I was able to “see” beyond

My mind’s preoccupation of pointless details of “what if…” fears.

Now the “what if’s” are “wouldn’t it be lovely if…”

As we now know

We create our own reality to feel Heaven

As I let go of the attachment to form,

I instead reinforce the attachment to Gratitude

And make that the religion I cling to.

Thankful for this moment,

Grateful for what brought me to this moment,

Giving Thanks for the next one.

‘Bout the Sea

I am reading about the sea

And I realize my life shares some parallels

With its non-linear space

That sort of fills every crack

with aqueous salty presence.

I felt that today

With no boundaries to define my life

It only existed because I was in it, in a body

Besides that, my life stretched

from one horizon to the next

Met islands and other land masses

Kissed rivers and slept on sandy beaches.

But, there were no definite lines to map its way

I could be put on a map, like the ocean

But, as a subject, I could not be mapped

My life was as a dog pees

Running multi-directional across many planes,

Shapeless, yet nonetheless nurturing the ground.

I hereby committed my life

To be like the sea

It had presence yet lacked a coherent story line

It had depth yet had no beginning, middle nor end

It had mystery and could not be understood.

It was a poem without rhyme

A book with no edges or words.

My life was like the sea.

And this time I embark on it –

This time without judgment

Yes, it should look like something

But even the mere mention of “should look like”

Connotes negative judgment

So, let’s just call me an experiment.

It will change and change again

But most of it has been the meantime.

I stop trying to make sense out of it

I stop trying to buy it clothes

So that I can see what it looks like

It just is an enigma, like the sea.

It has movement,

but who knows where it really goes,

Although I am told sometimes

it goes up to the clouds to hide

And then comes back down again in tears

Perhaps this time the tears have no emotion,

But simply are water droplets

That fall onto a face

Simply because the face is there.

Aged Well, but Not Fermented

I write poetry on the inside

Words of the heart

Exclamations of God.

It may not rhyme

(please, no empty meaningless rhyme)

But it’s rhythm is the heart beat

And I can hear mine

Until I wake up

Until they cajole me into waking

The words stir me

They often bother me

Or disturb the unshaken, stoic glass cover

That wants to be shattered

So that others can get underneath

“Let me in,” they say.

And the words immediately give one access

into the Self

“Here, come in. Let me expose myself,

Let me share the rawness that’s inside

So you don’t have to feel alone.”

Come with me, in here

Where the truth is loud or silent

But wants to be shared.

Share this realness with me

And let it take us Home.

Funny how being raw and vulnerable

Has Home in it.

Maybe, when we were younger, we had less clothes

To hide our smile lines, our sad lines,

Our knitted brow stress lines

– or there weren’t any to hide.

Rip open this heart

So that it can be shared

So that something feels real

Besides the sound of rain outside

As it tiptoes on the window pane

Like mice feet dancing to nursery rhymes.

Come in, it isn’t raining in here

Not within the depths, past the illusions of self-pity

Past the corners of old thoughts

And stale memories

Deeper than that has no sadness

But is dry,

Like a mudroom in August in the Midwest.

It is safe in here, only way inside this beating heart

That one day needs to be shared

Like a big Thanksgiving with the world

In the meantime, the table is set for two

Won’t you come in

And pour yourself a glass of my heart wine

Aged well, but not fermented

Sip with me on this romantic heart beat

But, this time, make it real.

Missing You

I thought you were real

I thought you were “the one”

I thought my day began and ended with you

I felt a connection to you

That surpassed so many other connections

And then the wind came

It blew my hair into a spin

For a moment my vision blurred

And when I cleared my space to look again

You were gone

And with you went my heart.

Despair, disappointment, sorrow and hope

Became my bedfellows

Taking turns consuming my mind

I managed some positive affirmation

To try to find some better feeling ground

But it was whip cream on top of trash

How could life spin me ‘round again

How could I be given

What I thought was the gift of a lifetime

Only for it to be taken away

But you tell me I never had it

That no one has anything

That for a moment we experience something

And there are no guarantees

This love that feels so good

But can cause so much pain

For a moment there, I wished I had never met you

Then I would have been spared the pain of you leaving

Just yesterday I was the apple pie of your eye

And today you prefer coffee.

I am done

No more.

I will never again allow my heart

To be like a rag dolly

Pushed and pulled and toyed with

My emotions taken so lightly

My depth squashed onto a shallow shore

Unable to express its love

Too painful….

Your “Hi Sweetie”

Turned into “Hi there”

You long lovely see-you-later

Turned into short goodbyes.

You tell me to be in the gift of the present

To let go of the past

But I liked the past

And feel uncomfortable in our present moments

Not knowing where to place my arms

Where they were always placed around you

Now they awkwardly dangle at my side

And my heart goes unfulfilled.

I don’t want this one sided love

That is now looking elsewhere to amuse itself.

Freedom is the lesson here

To set you free as you desire

So I have no place in your life, really

For my freedom was the soaring I felt

When your heart wrapped around mine.

I am counseled to understand where you are

You just came from another relationship

And I was your short transition

Into a new life

So keep this short

And say goodbye.

 

 

 

Today is a Sacred Day

Today is a Sacred Day

and I don’t know why.

Today is a Sacred Day

and I don’t know why.

I will not follow you

as you go to work,

bored to death

So looking forward to lunch,

glancing at the clock for the day to end.

Nor will I follow you to school

so sleepy in your stupor

of boredom to tears

that you eat your lunch at recess

stealing away any chance you get

to eat snacks in the restroom

while others obey in quiet madness.

I will not go with you to bars

while you drown out the time

distracting your wakefulness

with inebriating substances.

Did you forget that today is a Sacred Day?

But, I don’t know why.

I just know you forgot this.

You forgot the word “sacred”

as you crammed “normal” down your throats

and succumbed to another day of monotony,

planning a weekend of distraction,

but when you get there,

there is little left to celebrate.

You forgot that today is Sacred

So, I will not follow you

as you obey the world around you

as you conform to its rules and regulations

as you clock in and out

as you say “yes” to others’ demands

and forget you stand on sacred ground.

No, I will not follow you.

Today is a Sacred Day,

But I don’t know why.

I just know I will not follow you

As you try to strip away dignity and individual guidance.

I hear another call

and it is not your bells nor alarms

waking you to another day

that looks too much like the next.

You train your children

to be dead in their hearts,

But, I will not stop to watch you.

Today is a Sacred Day

And I will listen to my own guidance

Showing me a Sacred Way.

Bold Sharing

You wear your scar bravely on your face

for all to see

While most of us try to conceal our scars

on the inside

that sometimes leak out and create chaos.

If we haven’t processed our own inner scars

we may not know how to be around you

Who so boldly shares theirs with the world

while we try to pick up pieces of ourselves

and patch them up sloppily on the inside.

If we’ve healed our inner scars

then yours on your face is no big deal.

It is not a reminder of our own unfinished business

but rather an accomplishment of something we have healed.

If we wallow in our scars

we are spoiled brats in a luxury of grief,

We piss away our now

and take for granted the grace and glory

of what we have.

If we don’t appreciate what we have, it, too, might be taken away

So to lament in sorrow over even the worst spilt milk

is a luxury we cannot afford.

Better to be on our knees

Thankful we have food on our plates

and clean bathrooms,

the ability to get place to place on our own

and to describe the view in front of us.

Being ever so thankful

for what is given  to us, now.

Then we are not grieving snobs

and spoiled brats wallowing on what is missing

in a luxury of complaints,

Rather we are constantly humble,

Realizing what we do have.

We let go of our own proudness

of the scars we hold

as if we accomplished a ride to hell and back.

Bowing our heads now, humble,

no longer luxuriating in a grief we cannot afford

Instead we say “Thank You” to this moment

and eat our food with grace.

 

Your scar is on the outside for us to see

while we conceal ours.

Perhaps now we can heal

Because, after all, tomorrow is a new day.