Total Pageviews

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Charming

This week we write a “magic” poem...

Charming

Always be yourself,
unless you can be a magician.
Then be that.
It requires no one’s permission.
Magic can save the the world,
one starfish at a time,
also one flower, one tree, one human,
each precious to its kind.
Try saving the world,
transforming it with love,
with right action, too,
not just white magic from above.
Go ahead, save the planet,
but it’ll take a miracle, some say.
Well, then, we’d best get started.
Can’t think of a better day.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Stuff

Stuff

Not really hidden, available
for all who wish to see,
the things I need the least,
confronting me, taunting, 
still visible, 
even locked behind wood.
The poems never shown,
tucked away for some future edit,
the painted and penciled pictures,
not suitable for public display.
(or comment)
I must have thought I’d 
return to them someday,
but age flattens a man,
life shifts his priorities.
How things were,
even how they will be,
do not matter.
(nope)
There’s only how 
things are now.
Mostly I write and paint
to find out
what I’m thinking,
to check my mood,
(the current one)
to tell the truth,
(always)
which does indeed set me free,
but not until it sometimes
pisses me off.
I have a storage unit,
(costs a bundle)
monthly bills higher than 
the value of the stuff inside,
including that cedar chest
which holds all the scribblings,
the dabblings.
Who’s to judge, really?
(not me)
Someone besides me will 
throw all my stuff away,
(someday)
perhaps a semi-star of 
some sort of reality tv show.
They’ll open that chest,
maybe think about the contents,
or maybe they’ll just
bitch and groan, wonder why 
anyone would keep such junk.
One man’s treasure...

(oh, you know)

Saturday, September 22, 2018

Eclogue

Today we are invited to write a poem in the eclogue or pastoral form. I don’t know if I did so, but here’s my effort.

Morning in Rancho

It’s an early morning,
made so by the cat,
wanting to check backyard scents.

There’s a lingering fog,
but today my mind
sees only perfection.

Mount Woodson is still
out there, to the east,
unseen but felt.

There’s movement on
that big hill, four-legged
and winged.

Some critters are
hunkering down for the day,
others just now soaring.

I can’t see them,
yet I know they’re there.
It simply takes a little faith.

I have no need to suffer.
Pain is always a choice.
Peace is ever an option.

Thursday, September 20, 2018

I Get It

I Get the Trick Now

The trick
in writing is
to not write
the parts
readers don’t read.

The trick
in painting is
knowing where
to not
put the brush.

The trick
in life is
delighting in
both the
gots and nots.

Saturday, September 8, 2018

A Series of Zappai

Sometimes life’s empty.
No goals, no hopes, no purpose.
Let’s go play Scrabble.

————————


What the heck. I woke,
I’m breathing. I might as well
make the choice to love.

————————


Between who I was
and who I am becoming,
ah, there the work lies.

————————

Whosoever would
be named a poet must be
a reader as well.

————————-


Turning toward others,
living with an open heart.
Peace merging with love.

————————-


At all times, choose life.
Choose friends and love and sharing.
Most of all, choose peace.

————————-


One need not suffer.
Pain is forever a choice.
Elders opt for peace

————————


Today is the most
beautiful day. I choose to

see joy and beauty

Barbara

This week we are tasked with writing a “something wrong” poem...

Barbara

I thought I’d
used up all my luck
in Vietnam.
Wrong.
Just look at her.

Therapy

This week the Wednesday prompt is to write an “other side” poem.

Therapy

There is truth in pain,
and in painful memories,
both unable to be avoided.
Can’t walk around them,
have to go through them,
if one wants to get to
the other side.
A year of therapy
and now, for me,
I merely wish to be
seduced by the truth.
Oh, not all in one serving,
just a slice or dollop
at a time.
I need to taste it, smell it,
feel and savor
what new knowledge,
(maybe wisdom)
can be gleaned.
So I sit now,
hopefully,
in relaxed readiness,
defenses down,
more interested in
being wise
than in
being safe.

One Cure

Today, my wonder-filled friends at Poetic Bloomings are writing Anaphora Poetry.  My effort...

One Cure

One step is all one need take
One call for one official
One book for one tiny town
One brick for one new dike
One well for one sick village
One shot for one new life
One card for one sick child
One can for one food bank
One dollar for one small shelter
One gift for one hopeful world
One smile for one store clerk
One letter for one distant friend
One poem for one in prayer
One love for humanity
One peace for all time
One step is all one need take

Late Summer’s Daily Zen’s

Everyone I meet is a story

Telling stories can be healing. Listening to them, as well 

Grant yourself a day of peace. When you do that, trust me, you’ll want another.

I am listening. Take all the time you need.

I find that most music smooths my rough edges 

Let the music play on 

Religion can be too much like work. All that’s necessary are gratitude and humility

Light a candle for another and you get to bathe in it too

I pledge allegiance to myself. Oh, ok, and to you too.

Love is a function of communication

Health is a function of participation 

Spirituality is a function of flow, and harmony, and giving

Less force, more flow. Less stress, more ease. Less fear, more Grace

Happiness, joy, unicorns and butterflies

Just pause

Refuse to feel unbeautiful

Make room for happiness in your life today. You deserve it!

Time to bring out the big guns - compassion, prayer and, oh yes, laughter

Tough mind. Tender heart.

Trust your heart. You’ll be fine.


Goals are fine, but some things should be done just for the fun of it