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Showing posts from 2015

Happy New Year

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courtesy Google Images






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






An Extravagant Place

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The Mag #299

It is an extravagant place where this memory resides like a precious relic on a velvet display at a museum that  only I can enter and truly view my footsteps alone echo upon the halls again and again to see you once more feel your touch my breath upon your skin our public display of affection that only true lovers know it was and in essence  is the longest of kisses my greatest longing it is an extravagant place I suppose long kisses always are.


The Transient

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Google Images
You don't have a soul.  You are a Soul.  You have a body.  ~C.S. Lewis

Everyday In Heaven

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"One Father's day when I was around 8, I asked my Dad why there was never a "kids day".  His response was timely and sure, he simply said, "because kid's day is everyday"!  I was certain he was trying to make me laugh and nothing more.   It was not until I was an adult that I really comprehended the truth in those words."
Amber and Seth Many years later I became a parent myself, and through all the sweat, tears, blood, pain, and squeezing my husbands hand so that he would not feel left out in the agony, I gave birth to a 7 pound baby boy.  At that very moment my view on everything was never the same.  What had mattered in the past was truly passed, all in one babies cry.  Nothing else mattered from then on.  It was like a slate had been wiped clean, or I had amnesia to everything that existed  before.  My focus was on a little one in my arms, and nothing more.  As time went by I came to understand the idea that was behind my father's words. 

What Remains

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Google Images I originally posted this 5 years ago.  In observation of Mother's Day and my birthday, I wanted to bring it back to life again.  Happy Mother's Day everyone. :-)
Linking with Imaginary Gardens for the Tuesday Platform. :-)
In search of my mother's garden, I found my own. ~Alice Walker Time burns her memory like a building on flame and my heart keeps re-entering to salvage what could be lost soft cuddles pushes on the swing thoughts shared all return to view I cradle them out of the wreckage with the tenderness of a mother yet fervor of an explorer certain I will retrieve something new that had been once consumed by time's tarnishing way one vision at a time relinquished like a photograph taken out from underneath the protective glass yet they still fade tattered at the edges and dust in between reflecting the weakness of my memory to capture every moment like a camera but I will carry on with the recovery holding on to each one like a child's hand afrai…

Love is a Supernova

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Google Images linking with Imaginary Gardens for the "Tuesday Platform" and "Seeing Stars".







"Yeah we all shine on, like the moon, and the stars, and the sun."  ~John Lennon





When a star sings the blues
man it sure is a glorious sight

like a tear soaked guitar
that you hear with your eyes

There is a certain rhythm
like the beating of the heart

It pulses ever outward
beyond galaxies of stars.

So hush my lost lover
no need to explain

My love is a supernova
and your love flies like a plane.






Trying To Touch The Sky

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Google Images


"The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision."  ~Helen Keller




All the objects within my view seem so easy to capture within my hands. The distance between their light and shade is reachable from wear I stand.
Yet, I feel the steps would turn into miles, if tomorrow I lost my sight. My ability to reach my destination would be like trying to touch the sky.
These hands of mine would certainly have another role to play. They would no longer just reach out to hold, but guide and lead the way.
My sense of trust would have to increase greater than what I know. Everything I take for granted now would have a value that would grow.
For sight and true vision are second cousins from distant stars. One sheds light upon the cornea and the other illuminates the heart.
Linking with Imaginary Gardens and all the beautiful toads. :-)


Clarity Is Future's Ghost

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Courtesy Pinterest

There is a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was. ~Jennifer Donnelly

Shades of Grey

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Google Images

 Life is life, and death is life, and everything in between. ~Terri Guillemets

Its all about the shades in between.  Nothing is completely black and white.  We draw the lines in black and the areas around are white but there is always shades of grey that connect the two and in the world of sketching where one tries to portray what they see, it is all about knowing what not to fill in and what to accentuate. Then there are the tools that help us do this.  The pencils of life that fill the page, and the erasers that help when there is a mistake.  One line connecting to the next in form to complete a picture for all to see.   So how we depict the artistry and what the world ends up seeing is ultimately at the end of our own pencils edge.
 Hold it how you will.


Linking with Imaginary Gardens "Tuesday Platform".

When Zombies Speak

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pic from Google Images
Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask.  ~X-Files


Sometimes there are things we go through in this life that roar like monsters, but in our struggle through the abyss of day to day living they seem to whisper like a shy child.  We become blinded and unaware of the battle within our hands. So we keep stumbling forward unaware of the danger of complacency that lurks around every corner of our lives.
It has been a while now, but I had a dream one night that I felt spoke to me loud and clear about boundaries and responsibilities.  I cannot recall all the details of the dream now, since I have waited so long to document it, but the gut of the meaning behind it is still fresh like a wound that needs tending.  So I will do my best to reveal it here.
As you may be expecting there were zombies in my dream.  Like I have said before, my dreams have many times been stressful if not borderline nightmares, and this one was no different.    I …

The Echo of Silence

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The Mag #258
Also linking with Poetry Jam for the prompt "Silence".



Silence is a text easy to misread.  ~A.A. Attanasio


Ignorance is a dark hall that seems to have no doors.
Where wisdom has no voice that fools can soon ignore.
And truth can be a luxury when it is nowhere to be found
as secrets can deceive like lies when they do abound.
For the truth holds a certain power like a shelter in the rain
and when it is abandoned it leaves one vulnerable to more pain.




When I was around 4 years old we had a gold fish that lived in a bowl on top of our console television.  One day I was left in the house alone while the family was doing some yard work.  I got the wonderful idea to feed the fish.  Everyone else was doing something productive and I wanted to do something to.  So I decided to get the little shaker bottle of fish food and make myself useful.  Once I started pouring it seemed that more would be better than less, after all, it was probably very hungry.  The rest of the story…

True Testament

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Emergence: Surreal Oil Painting by J. J. Long

Truth, like gold, is to be obtained not by its growth, but by washing away from it all that is not gold. ~Leo Tolstoy


Any man can tell the story of what he has learned upon his way and those around him will listen, but it is the account shared by the one that has emerged from the grips of the agony of life's hardest obstacles, faced their demons eye to eye and risen from the depths of deep despair that have a voice that reaches more than just ears.  They speak through the creaking of steps taken on the hardest of floors.  It is that sound that our soul  hears, and then hearkening begins.  It is the echo of sound that reoccurs from this that proves to me the miracles that are born from adversity.  For it seems that it is the evidence of recovery that comes from true redemption that reveals the greatest miracles of all.


Linking with Imaginary Gardens and "The Tuesday Platform".



Butterflies and Land Mines

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The Mag #255



Reason is our soul’s left hand, Faith her right. ~John Donne




Faith is a white horse that must run in the black of night
and the soul is the rider that must hold on with no reins in sight.
It is a treacherous journey that requires a lot of guts.
The kind that walks through land mines with eyes completely shut.
 So let go of your logistics and reach out for something true.
A credence that is mightier than any scientific proof.
For genuine conviction is a force that moves through hardy walls
and the voice that drives it onward has an ever gentle call.
 You see the cement of the soul is full of both tenderness and might.
For faith is a true force yet enigma like butterflies and land mines.

Recovery

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Google Images




At the bottom is always the best soil to sow and grow something new again.
In that sense, hitting (rock) bottom, while extremely painful, is also the perfect sowing ground. That being said, before we can begin to grow, we must first realize that we are bogged down. (Step 1)
WJM




My arms have grown weary and my back is all worn. My insides are crumbling and my outside is torn.
Life is a journey that requires some might
and rest becomes a luxury instead of a right.
So now I am in need of major repair.
God's needle and thread with love, hope, and care.




This was originally written for
Poetry Jam for the "One Word" prompt.
My word is:
Recover
Unfortunately I did not make it in time, so I am sharing it with Poet's United's Poetry Pantry #236



  Being the mother of a recovering addict alcoholic has made the last few years of my life rough in more ways than just a worn out arm chair.. I am blessed to be able to say that his ultimate rock bottom was 6 months a…