Showing posts from 2013

Maniac With a Pen and Paper...

writ*r/ 'raiter/ -noun 1. a peculiar organism capable of transforming caffeine into books. 

Wild Goose Chase

Google Images "The gull sees the farthest who flies highest." ~Richard Bach, Jonathon Livingston Seagull My post for the prompt is on my other blog click here to view it.  I was not able to add it on Mr Linky so thought I would just link it the long way.  When I found a quote to add here for the post I realized that our minds are such amazing storage closets.  I read the book Jonathon Livingston Seagull when I was around 10 or 11 years old, and I wrote the poem I posted in my 30's.  I realized that the main line I have in the poem is truly this quote from the book up above.  I had no idea when I wrote it, I was copying it, but had no intentions to be doing so.  I guess my mind tucked that line away...and it came back out in my writing.  My apologies Mr Bach, but please consider it a compliment that your amazing lines have lingered patiently within my mind and heart.

Life Is God's Artistic Masterpiece

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. ~Stanley Horowitz

Don't Be a "Scaredy Cat"

Courtesy Google Images  Hope is much like a cat in the Dark — you only know it's there by the reflection of its eyes — which means there is Light nearby. ~Terri Guillemets

Wishing everyone in "blog-land" a wonderful Halloween.  May you eat too much candy and hear the giggling of children all night.

The Autumn Gateway Has Opened

Autumn bowed to place a beautiful crown on the Queen of Morning,  and her velvet robes sway merrily in the chilly breeze.  ~Terri Guillemets I welcome autumn with open arms once more!

Feast of the Moon

"As far as the Moon is concerned, he is always full." ~Terri Guillemets

Pickles and Peace on the Side

The Mag #185

 "Happiness cannot be traveled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed.  Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude."   ~Denis Waitley

I am life partake of me I am at your service I am your maitre-de I am the menu within your hands the choice is yours what will you have? Today's special is happiness on rye with pickles and peace
on the side or would you rather have discontent with a cup of soup? It's time to order it's up to you?

The Force of Feathers and Chains

artwork by Jeanie Tomanek The Mag #184
"God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages."
  ~Jacques Deval There is a force that feathers know  that ride together upon a wing in flight and so to do links of a rusty chain
that hold down and lock up tight. There is a might that bricks know when holding up a sturdy wall and so does the metal ball and crane that can make the building fall. Sometimes the chains that bind us are bound by our own hands

and in turn the liberty we so long for
becomes too heavy for us to withstand.

The soul possesses all the muscles
to carry a thousand pounds of woe

yet it also holds the skill and power
to courageously let it go.

Many years ago when I was going through the separation and divorce from my first husband, I left the home I had known for eight years and took off with a packed up car and a discouraged teenager heading to the home of a dear friend I had gone to church with years before.  We stayed under her co…

The Wings of Uncertainty

"Madness is the result not of uncertainty but of certainty." ~Frederich Nietzsche

Sometimes having some semblance of control of what happens in our lives is like a loosed canary from an open cage, we have it for a moment and once it escapes our hold, it could again light upon our finger or cross our path eventually, but we must face the fact that like a free bird we might never truly capture it within our grasp once more.

Directions Not Included

photo by Steven Kelly The Mag #183
"Men, like nails, lose their usefulness when they lose direction and begin to bend."   ~Walter Savage Landor

Sometimes I am rough like an old highway that is in desperate need of repair and I am stagnant like a puddle where there is no light to bring a glare. At times I am tattered like a worn hem on a dress no one will sew and I am meager like a garden where a careless gardener never goes. At times I am lost like a sparrow that has never built it's nest and I am lonely like a boring hostess that will never have a guest. Sometimes I am empty like a pew where the minister shall not preach and full of dust like antique furniture hidden beneath white sheets. At times my focus is for naught like an unused telescope on a starlit night and I am vacant like a building that it too damaged for someone to buy.  In this life there are no road signs to truly guide the way ahead and purpose can get lost if we drive like our foot is made of led. So …

A Hunger That Fills Buckets

photo by Elena Kalis The Mag #182 The ocean of the body crashes against the ocean of the heart. Between them is a barrier they cannot cross. ~Rumi Lost is the place my heart wanders nowhere that has an uttered name it's a choir that sings of loneliness a hunger that fills buckets like rain it's point of exact location cannot be found on any printed map it's a grain of sand to an ocean a skyscraper laying on its back  it's penciled in directions to a permanent destination that does not yet exist it's a doorbell to a deaf man a voice that shall forever have no lips the true logic of the code and boundaries is teardrops tied to a locked up gate it's a room that has no walls a fork that will never have a plate a broken heart is a manic hunter searching for candles inside the dark  it's a cure that has no potion a wound that will never leave a mark for love is a mighty fortress  that no human strength can truly lift it's a present we can only open if we ar…

Reaching for Wisdom with Foolish Hands

Drawing Hands, 1948 by M.C. Escher The Mag # 180 "Men are made stronger on realization that the helping hand they need is at the end of their own arm." ~Sidney J. Phillips I define my own ways at the sketching of my own hand,
drawing my own lines of reason like heritage defines a man.
The view that lies before me is a photo that only I can snap.
I can choose to capture the future or get tangled in the past.
All the expectations I hope to have unfold within my own arm's reach,
are not given by this world but earned painstakingly by only me.
For life is a pilgrimage of perspectives that I alone can observe and utilize
no other soul can grant it, my own hands must reach out and truly try.

Road Map of the Soul

painting by Andrew Wyeth
The Mag # 178

"The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the sun." ~John Greenleaf Whittier, My Psalm

We must truly bear our soul butt naked to the world  if we want to behold truth's vision upon our path. Yet we shroud it with robes and veils like Muslims do a girl, suffocating the bosom of all the answers we ever longed to have. For a welcomed visitor cannot enter into a fortress locked up tight, nor can a wealth of knowledge be payd for by bounty of the poor. Yet we search for fulfillment with eyes that have no sight trying to attain an answer we keep holding hostage for a cure. This life is a journey that each soul must ride solo with no map  and the directions cannot be given at the nearest corner store. So we chase meaning unknowing to what lies ahead and what has passed for our quest for purpose is not found beyond the horizon but at soul's core.

There is Still Life

To live remains an art which everyone must learn, and which no one can teach.   ~Havelock Ellis

There is still life in all the cracked places and areas we cannot see...

and yet there is still wonder spread out before us.... beauty exists there in the quiet light by our side...

and then it spread out before us like a banquet...
....and love has a way of coming back around....
....for through all of the darkness and hunger and hardship there is still life that we can eat upon for nurishment.

Breaking News

"Stress should be a powerful driving force, not an obstacle."  ~Bill Phillips

I interrupt this blog to inform you that the stress and day to day grievances of life have knocked me off my usual path and I am taking just a bit of a break for a while.  I promise I will return.  I just need to pull off the road and let the storm pass.  I miss you all very much and when the clouds have moved on I will step back out onto the sunlit highway once more.
Love you all!

Giggles and Snowflakes

Photo Credit

"Childhood is the most beautiful of all life's seasons."  ~Author Unknown

Well I guess this week we say farewell to winter and hello to spring....just thought I would post something in celebration of the seasons of life....Happy Spring everyone!

A Bigger Fish

The Mag #159

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."  ~T.S. Eliot

Mankind is the hunter of new horizons, the seeker of something more
pushing to greater lands as does the waves unto the shore.
He moves on ever further as a hardy ship upon the sea
hoping for fulfillment yet longing to be set free.
Sometimes it is a journey beyond the outskirts of the furthest town
and others it is a sojourn inward to reach what's lost and make it found.
Like the surfer hunts the perfect wave and the fisherman a bigger fish
so does the human spirit search for something greater...a purpose within his fists.

The Sheerest of Gowns

photo by The Fox And The Raven
The Mag #158
"You are a beautiful soul hidden by the trench coat of the ego."  ~Mike Dolan

If the flesh of this world
 was as thin as the sheerest of gowns,
 what of the soul would man's eyes see?
Would its essence penetrate through like a light
shining right into our own eyes
or float like air beyond our sight?
Could we see it dance embraced within our skin
or would it fly past our vision with us unaware?
And could one's hands clasp hold of it
and keep it in one place?
If possible would one soul touch another
like a caress of a lover's hand?
These are answers I long to hold
like soft satin within my hands
yet as the sheerest of gowns does
soon descend quietly to the floor undressed
so shall my questions go fallen
upon uncertainties profound fabric of silence.

A Beautiful Place To Stay

Courtesy Mark Kelly
"Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven

Linking with "Words Count"...with Mama Zen at Imaginary Gardens

Somewhere in the midst of a magnificent storm  my heart resides upon the most beautiful bridge. It so longs to hold a crazy profound love while the winds of chance make the beams unhinge. It hungers for a connection like a bridge between two lovely lands. A place to give homestead out in the wilds of naked openness  so ecstasy may be guarded within my own hips and another's hands. Above the raging waters of storms that no man could ever cease is a place my heart shall tarry in hope's own splendor  as my yearning for this one love will always increase.

The Endowment

Wind of History by Jacek Yerka
The Mag #156

"History is a cyclic poem written by Time upon the memories of man". ~Percy Bysshe Shelley

The place my grandmother came from
 is the place my child would be destined to go. 
There is no way I could not have foreseen it,
 but here in my sojourn backward I now know.
All the destruction of one bent affliction
of one searching for a cure of a hollowing ache
can leave a path filled with acres of ruin
 for the seeds of another generation to face.
For the legacy of this disease of suffering
is a gift no one in sanity would ever choose,
yet it is an inheritance granted with no favor
to the descendants of history's unsettling dues.

The Might of Just One Kiss

Artword by Joseph Lorusso
The Mag #155
"Ancient lovers believed a kiss would literally unite their souls, because the spirit was said to be carried in one's breath."  ~Eve Glicksman

It is not a meager tug this pull that love has upon a woman's soul.... drawing her lips to another's like a golden ember and charring coals.... it holds an utter splendor that is tender yet strong like cobalt steel.... capturing the strength of resistance not to reach out and want to feel.... it's ache lingers in growth that multiplies like big numbers within the heart... for the magnetic field of a deep kiss is a force no mortal might can pull apart.

An Anthem of Knowing

Central Library, Manchester, U.K., by Robin Gosnall
The Mag #154

"A library is but the soul's burial-ground. It is the land of shadows." ~Henry Ward Beecher

Like etchings carved upon stone
 these words linger amongst the breathing
hidden within covers of leather and dust
an anthem of knowing inhabits the empty spaces
pressing through to the far reaches of the world
everytime there is a turning of the page.

All That Can Be Saved

Google Images

"Dreams are excursions into the limbo of things, a semi-deliverance from the human prison."  ~Henri Amiel

This is the re-telling of a dream.  Not just any dream, but a dream that spoke to me like no other I have ever had.  You see I am an avid dreamer.  I always dream no matter how short the nap. There is a memory of walking another world while I sleep each and every time I am not awake in this one.  Remembering back to my dreams as a child, they were more often stressful or what one would call a nightmare most of the time.  That still holds true for me today.  Sometimes they are bizarre or inspiring, but the majority of the time they are just one big muddle of calamity.  From the time I was little I always would be trying to escape some kind of danger, and in that intense departure, I would at times be attempting to protect something else, when I was a kid it was the family dog; Pepi, a cantankerous little Chihuahua that my mother probably loved more than my b…

Broken Records

Charlotte Gainsbourg, AnOther
The Mag #153

"Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened" ~T.S. Eliot

The song of old regrets plays like nostalgic records inside my broken heart and weary mind. I carefully place each one on the player and replay each song until I have memorized every line.
Then I dance with each lament like lovers close enough to keep whispering in my ear.
So the breath of one hundred aches and grievances sing softly yet they sing clear,
with the cadence of a blues song it is an elegy and never rings with glory like a hymn.
All the records play only sad songs that speak to my heart a penance for my lost sins,
and I keep them deep in a forlorn place where my heart slips down into sorrows like too much wine,
for the dance of life has awkward steps that fall short of perfection each and every time.

I am generally a positive person and do not dwell on my mistakes and regrets as much as I probably could, but…

A Certain Warmth

The Mag #152

"If the world seems cold to you, kindle fires to warm it." ~Lucy Larcom

Each of us has a longing deep in our soul for the warmth of another's touch.
So we reach out our hands with a quivering want like winter's soldier by the camp fire hoping to quell loneliness's abysmal sting, for life is sometimes cold and the atmosphere around us can be lonely and parched no matter what direction we turn.  Yet, if we truly long to find warmth from outside of ourselves, and hold something more than an arsenal of empty sorrows by our side, then we need to learn how to relinquish our need to grasp it so tightly, and give some of what we hold away.  Like any great loving gift, the reward is always as lovely as the offering.  Karma always comes round full circle no matter how large the sphere.  So reach out to the world with the warmth of kindness.with all that you possess inside, and watch the beauty and warmth of the flickering flame spread like wild fire.

Dear lon…

The Loves of My Life

Love comes into our life so many ways, but it is the little ones that we give birth to in this world and hold utterly within our arms that capture our heart completely... ...and then God sends us more through ways we could not have planned or expected and our lives are even more blessed.... ....and each one of these wonderful grown children is the love of my life!

...and then there is the Grandchildren.....well they come along and we fall in love all over again....and they rule our heart and world!
Who is the love of your life?....and why?


"God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled."  ~Author Unknown

This life is an endless pool of wonders full of lessons at every splash we must dive in at the deep end with all the guts and strength we have life cannot be truly lived observing at the water's edge you have to utterly submerge until every fiber of your being is wet it is an exploration that carries one deeper as it goes a baptismal of guidance more profound as the heavier current flows so immerse yourself in life like a missionary with a mighty cause for no one else can swim it for you it's your own gain or your own loss.

The Indwelling

image by Daniel Murtagh
The Mag #150

"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." ~Anne Sexton

There is a certain beauty that surely dwells within the outermost door and it speaks to the deaf and mute reaching out to comfort the grieved and poor the blind detect its presence through its warmth like the laying on of praying hands still it stands there naked with a purity not seen by the mortal eyes of man faith is its companion as they lay on sheets that bear hope to a world in need it is an intimate miracle within the breast of every man's hopes and inherent creed somewhere between one's doubts and beliefs it comes out into a glimpse of the heart's eye a beauty beyond compare in grace it heals the broken and restores vision to all the blind.

The Journey

Life itself is an exile. The way home is not the way back. -Colin Wilson

The Present is the Inheritance of Now

"A day is Eternity's seed, and we are its Gardeners."  ~Erika Harris
If only we could grow time like corn in a field... for it does seem that time has wings of its own... and it wrinkles all in its path...
...but what a beautiful ride that it is...
...and at times it can be confusing and seem to spiral out of our grasp...   then pieces seem to get lost along the way...  and focus all we may the clock keeps ticking at the same pace...
as time ripples outward to tomorrow from yesterday...
yet, no matter how you look at it...time stops for no one, so listen to the words of dear Emily who said:

"Forever is composed of nows."  ~Emily Dickinson

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

All photos courtesy of Google Images. :-)