In the Blink of an Eye

It is said that the present is pregnant with the future.  ~Voltaire

Say "Hello"

Google images

I know that this choice was not on my last post, but a girl has a right to change her mind. :-)
 

Still I wanted to formally introduce you to my new blog name:


It is the title to a poem that I wrote many years ago.

"A Net Full of Butterflies"

I can hear it in your voice, the angry words you can't forget.  A heartache's anthem is echoing over and over in your head.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to hear the magic in the song.  You could dance around all day no matter what went wrong.  Just close your eyes and try,

for a child sets anger free like a net full of butterflies.

I can see it in the tears that you never cry, you are not as strong as the shield you hide behind.  But can you remember when you were just a child, and it was easy for the tears to fall like rain.  When you were upset it was written all over your face.  Just close your eyes and try,

 for a child lets pride go like a net full of butterflies. 

I can feel it in your touch you just can't let it go.  You are holding on to the past like a trophy of plated gold.  But can you remember when you were just a child, it was easy to forget the troubles of yesterday, leave them all behind and play the day away.  Just close your eyes and try,

for a child tells bitterness goodbye like a net full of butterflies.

A Cat Named Killer

google images

Tigers die and leave their skins; people die and leave their names. 
 ~Japanese Proverb




Call me fickle, or maybe just in need of diversity, but I have decided to change the name of my blog.  I have come across 3 other blogs with the same title, and I have a hankering to come up with something new. 
All my blog friends have become dear to my heart and inspire my mind, and I want to make you a part of my decision, so I am going to list all my ideas for names and ask that you comment and give me some feed back on what you prefer.
Here we go:

1. Planting Poems with Ink

2. Poems, Pens, and Kryptonite

3. Echoes of Hope

4. Whisper In a Hail Storm

5. Reflections of a Foolish Poet

6. Lessons=Poetry

7. Recovering Through Poetry

8. Your ideas are welcome (this is not a name) Laugh out loud

9.__________________________________

I look forward to seeing your thoughts and ideas.

Thank you dear blogger friends. :-)

 

Swift Bird

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Time is an old firmly rooted tree; we are the breeze rustling its leaves.
 ~Terri Guillemets

Time is a prudent yet swift bird
 that we all truly long to catch.
Though the feathers that it flies with
 carry it ever further beyond our grasp.
We rush awkwardly forward
as it touches back down upon a branch
and we reach out in a hurry
but still with a backward glance.
For no nets nor loaded guns
can catch this bird in hovered flight.
It tarries not for no beast nor human
as it takes each hour soft within the night.



Linking with dVerse for Mary's prompt "Time"



 

Spoon Fulls of The Moon (Magpie Memories)

Venus de Milo with drawers,1936,Salvador Dali

The Mag 157

(Now linking with #229 boy does time fly.)

"Venus demilo

In her half-baked shell

Understood the nature

Of love very well

She said, a good love is delicious

You can’t get enough too soon

It makes you so crazy

You want to swallow the moon"

~Lyrics of Jupiter written by Jewel

 

There are places hidden like drawers

 in a chest that only some will ever see

A thousand secrets of the great enigma

 that only one man can truly free

Inside each are longings sorted like bobby pens
 at the bottom of beauty's wealth

with different shades of gray and red

 that camouflage a woman's heart with stealth

for the hungers of love's deep wanting are contained

 yet they can be seen by the naked eye

as the beauty of longing and all it's charms

 spoon up the moon with just a sigh.

 

 

I have so many unfinished posts for Magpie Tale prompts that I started, but could not get finished before the following prompt started.  I hope it will be okay, but I have decided to link them in here and there on future weeks prompts, so that they will get finished and at least linked in the place they once belonged.  I am going to call them "Magpie Memories".  I probably have about 18 or so that I started and did not complete.  So this one is the first of many old ones to come.  Approval permitting of course.  Hope everyone has a wonderful week.  Thank you Tess.  Magpie Tales has been a wonderful inspiration for me. 

Life is a Passage of Grace

The Mag #228 Photo courtesy Tess

 

In life we all have an unspeakable secret, an irreversible regret, an unreachable dream and an unforgettable love. ~Diego Marchi

It is

an awkward

yet graceful journey

the trek that each man

treads in this life.  Where

the steps wind in different directions

but we all still head toward the same higher hall

Hoping for some joy and longing to be heard stepping ever

forward on steps our fathers forged. It is a passage worn with hardship

yet still remnants of the beautiful tapestry of life's estate.  

So climb it's steps with all your fervor and hold the banister how you dare,

for you will have to brave some falls if you are truly going to get somewhere.

A Place for Peace

google images


 linking with Poetry Jam for the "an impossible place" prompt.

Hope never abandons you, you abandon it. ~George Weinberg

It is strange how our view of things can change.  What once seemed like an impossible place for me to survive, has become a bearable place to linger that I can find refuge in and truly live.  I am not speaking of actual places nor shelter, I am referring to the mind and the stresses of life that we cannot escape.  There was a time when dealing with a grown child with alcohol and addiction problems would put me directly into a major panic attack.  I would be unable to calm my mind, and my peace was stolen like a timex watch left out in the street.  My mind would race with the chaos of dread.  All that could go wrong and all the worst that could happen danced around in my mind.  A ballroom waltz between peril and calamity.  They don't dance gracefully though.  It is an appalling sight where bunions get stepped on and all look on in misery.  Somehow, in the course of time and it's way of healing, I have learned to cope.  The deeds of another human dear to my heart are not internalized like my hand is the hand that pulled the trigger to a gun I never laid eyes on.  Things have improved, but when something does go wrong it does not have the same impact as before.  My mind is not at the end of a loaded weapon that can kill my peace with one bang.  It is not an impossible place to have any peace or sanity.  It is now a shelter with some peace and a warm blanket of hope that keeps my thoughts and cares warm. 
 

Life Is A Homage

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to."

  ~John Ed Pearce

The Soul's Watering Can

Courtesy Google Images

 

Linking with Poetry Jam for the "Thirst" prompt.

 

To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.  ~Emily Dickinson

I am wilted and parched in places
 that the sun and man shall never see
 in my heart's garden of utter regrets
 that grow wild on the plenty of complacency.
  Pick the roses step on the orchids
 pull the weeds if you dare,
but please God water the deepest roots
 before my outer foliage becomes bare.



People and plants both must have water to live and in many ways are very much alike.  If you nurture the roots, the outer foliage is always more lovely.  The same is true for a human heart.  If you feed the soul with the fruits of the spirit, then the evidence is always seen on the outside as well.  What goes in has a way of bearing witness on the outside as well.  We can hide many faults within our outer armor, but some things just cannot be hidden.  We can starve the soul for a while but sooner or later the malnourishment is visible for the world to see.  The different is that the garden relies on man to feed its fold, and man relies on God.  Yet there is still another difference; God allows us the choice to accept Him or deny Him.  He is the soul's watering can, but only we can choose to pour it in.

The Voice of Reason

courtesy google images

linking with dVerse for the "dadaism" prompt

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination. ~John Lennon

Sometimes the wars of life drown out the voice of reason and peace.  Everything that makes sense becomes distorted, like an images reflection in cut class. So the revolutionary that lives within the spirit of every man makes his way out to the surface and speaks out and demands to be heard.  Here is my attempt at an abstract "dadaism" piece of writing:

My voice has been swallowed by a lion
whose roar is flying with fallen stars
where light and dark make love to silence
and beauty looks on in longing to be touched
yes yes life says
take the lion and the shark with 2 hands
hold on to the grievance
let go of the loss
give it to the opera singer
and then cover your ears
and sing
la la la la la la la la.