Dear Perpetually Pissed Off People

Perhaps
Pernicious perspicacity
Proselytized petulantly
Prevents
Progressive progress.

Perhaps
Pigheaded poppycock
(Palliative painkiller)
Prevents
Pursuit of peace.

Perhaps
Persnickety perfectionism
Practiced penultimately
Prevents
Principled personhood.

Perhaps
Passive people
Purposefully programmed
Prevents
Populous permutation.

Perhaps
Powerful people
Perpetuate peace
Personifying
Palpable prognostication.

Finding My Voice

I went to a writing class on Wednesday evening and, as is usual for such a class, I came away with some fun work that I probably would never have come up with on my own.

One of the assignments was thus:

Write a 10 line poem, using a proverb, adage, or familiar saying, and include five of the following words:

Cliff  -   Needle  -   Voice  -   Whir  -   Blackberry  -  Cloud  -  Mother  -  Lick.

Using those instructions, here is what I came up with - which turned out more insightful than I had planned, but then my favorite ones always do.

Finding My Voice
Was a needle
In a haystack
Clouded by whirs
Of a Mother tongue
Advising
To keep my mouth shut.
Upending this sagacity
Took courage and commitment
With a splash of rebel yell.

Sometimes

Sometimes
When we are drowning

In our fear
We cling so hard
The rescuer
Has to let go.

If we are willing
This act of bravery
Can teach us
How to let go

And save ourselves.

Chase the Light

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My Heart's Desire

I love the sound of idling diesel
Its purring whisper soothes my soul

A long-nose Pete
Comes down my street

My knees get weak and shaky.

There's something about
Raw power within

That sets my soul on fire.

Coffee Shop

The man in the coffee shop
Watched young millennials
Swarm 'round his table

Intent on their Iphones
Insistently Instagramming

Obliviously obscured.

They tweeted their Twitters
Snapped silly selfies

Consumed carefree coffee.

The man in the coffee shop

Rubbed a silver coin
Held back his desire

For Jack instead of Joe

And won the battle

For today. 

I'm not here to bite

I'm not here to bite
I just want to write

The Muse is strong in you

I pour out Myself
Bottom drawer and top shelf

For all the world to see

It's scary as hell
But you tell me Oh Well

Do it anyway

You challenge and push and temper me
Unveiling my talent so I can see

The Way to find my Voice
I've never had a choice

Before.

You.

You.

Chewed me up and spit me out

My exoskeleton’s on the floor

Amongst the blood and mess I see

Something that looks more like me

Harshest muse I’ve ever known.

What is This Place

What is This Place?

I cannot tell just where I am

I’ve lost my mind somewhere back there.

Turn left three times on bended knee

Walk backwards thrice on tossed debris

Skirt through valley and dance in town

Wearing only your best night gown

Now stop the traffic in a jam

Open wide and holler WHERE???

That is how you’ll find me.

Do You Like to Dance?

Do You Like to Dance?

I love to feel the music

Moving in my body like it moves my soul

You’ve brought beauty back in my life

Words, Songs, Music…..all the things I’d forgotten

How can I help but dance?

Decided

Decided

I will not be defined by my sorrow

I will not be held hostage by pain

What’s YOUR superpower?

A Gardener's Philosophy

Dedicated to the one who knows

A Gardener’s Philosophy

Sometimes the Ivy hooks up with the thorns

Ensuring its safety from those who might scorn

“Discard those thorns and embrace your beauty!”

Commanded Gardener sternly; he felt ‘twas his duty.

The Gardener showed Ivy a better way

Freeing her gifts, so she could stay.