Tag Archives: Gratitude

Monthly Archives: June 2013

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There once was a boy named…

Posted on June 26, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Stepping through the round door

Walking into Bilbo’s lair;
Searching for the tome with all of the answers:
A trimmed leather book of pages

read over and over

Full of childhood memories
Explanations of yesterday and the

few days before that
Expanding awareness along the

country Shire lane of existence, to experience

and create something new

Even if it doesn’t mean anything to anyone,

but you and me.

Narrating into view a little tin roof to offer protection

from the elements in the physical being
Knowing that understanding is hearing

and that there is nothing to creating your own reality;

believing in a Tolkien story and then

pushing forward to read something new,

to imagine the impossible.

This whicker rocking chair lifting forward to front
Tossing back to feel the movement
Enjoying a summer’s storm and

reading happy novella stories;
Predictable beginnings starting with the one line announcement

of him or her
My current selection of hoarding

moments to remember, begins with
“There once was a boy named…”

Summer Storm

Posted on June 26, 2013 by MuseWriter

One quick flash and then it’s gone, the light ceasing to exist but lingering seconds later, leaving little stars in our eyes
Extinguished by embarrassment of the amount of power used to create what could never be heard unless it’s so close it ignites
A loner wondering who would chance pain on the undefinable expectations of understanding from a passing eye;
Never letting go of the hope that lightning can strike somewhere twice, to feel the familiarity

The clouds roll, boil, before the explosion of sound; the thundering escape of air
Bodies self-consciously tensing every muscle, constricting movement as if preparing for some unknown distraction or threat
Knowing what is to come but fearing it all the same
Eyes closed, all from the warning shine of mercy;
The bolt only collecting one victim, at one exact target spot;
a finger of redemption

The noise travels greedily, trying to consume as many as possible
A nuclear explosion spreading out in an invisible black wave of intimidation, annihilation
Releasing from the puff of breath that had been held in;
Always the dramatic entrance, successfully poisoning the silence
Shattering the protective covering of the recycled stale air

Such a childish mind paired with a devil’s grin; dangerous or normal?
(Defining normal as whatever it is right now)
Trying to decipher the thoughts of the clouds through their bipolar cries for help
Being forced into contemplation and reflection, kindness
Forgetting body and soul and focusing on the sacrifice:
Summer storms always offer plenty of rain.

Burn

Posted on June 19, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

The wounds are fresh, pulsating with heat
Friction on the heart, subtle reminders that claim to destroy
Sending the troops out to barrel through the floodgates
Breaking, dam, damage
A mind wanders, follows a path
Looping through the gumdrops and the lollipops of Candy Land
Taking a break at every few steps to enjoy the sugar
Seeking the high off of the wanting
Much unlike the typical junkie
Never able to shoot up love like a drug
Or smoke a roll of desire, burning it to flame, red to black
A passion lasted through the ash of fire;
The worst trait of battle in any kind of war
But we all feel it burn every once in awhile.

Enough

Posted on June 18, 2013 by MuseWriter

A flick of a finger catches my eye, a glance down to see dirty hands

Dark mud caked under almost each nail

Disfiguring the usual picture typically in view and

What I see, gazing at this familiar sentient attachment;

controlling more than I can myself

Worker’s palms, gracefully raised up, together to offer up my love

To everyone, the Universe has said enough;

Murky water running clean.

 

Intensity

Posted on June 18, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Drip drop the water falls
Echoing, bouncing, floating in mixed patterns within the bathroom walls
The faucet off and running, as a constant reminder of the time that is ticking
An audible reference of the faces I’ve been running, away
From what we miss within ourselves
And to find it once more
Devilish smiles seduce, suggesting more that’s left to come
The worst part of it all, the ones fallen are the hardest to trust
No matter how many hours of lives we meet, intensity always finds some sort of meaning, new discoveries, commonalities
But then, I always get carried away;
The beat is always so loud when we’re close.

Heartfelt Emotion

Posted on June 16, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Do I just sit and watch
As you force your hands on the driver’s wheel
Grabbing old leather that feels more comfortable in my hands
In my car,
I don’t need a chauffeur to escort, distort my view of the world
I know that when I stop searching
He will be here
I hate being patient, I hate being ignorant
But that’s what life is:
A waiting game
And figuring out who and what is worth any heartfelt emotion

Connected to the Unknown

Posted on June 9, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Digging down, clawing, tearing back flesh
Where is the heart?
The incessant pumping, thumping, developing
Madness engulfs the mind
To where the light is dim, distanced away from the sun where the blood runs black
To a sordid colony of imprisoning despair
Followed by a few trips back into the tunnel, funneling down into the center of my soul
Connected to the unknown of those hidden, hiding,
laughing, crying.

A Bard’s Muse

Posted on June 7, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Ending each day with a statement, one that ends in an inflection of a question.

To feel the physical touch from the fluctuations

that flow freely from your mouth, your lips

Words to describe, to enlighten, to enkindle

All of us who keep searching for more:

Answers, situations, people

Whispers of light, featherlight, that slide over my ears;

Floating from the top of cartilage to the bottom of lobe

Closing my eyes to see the god standing before me

Of the Olympian stories

The kings and queens of mythology, of make believe?

Here, I find myself chasing

One human mortal of the calmest kind of endless possibilities

Addicted to the grace that calls out when answered;

To find the last part of self and put together the rest of our lives.

The air moves, as if growing, if boiling in anticipation

Or maybe I’m only feeling the anxiety of the Earth

The shifts as you get closer

My bard of every love song that I could believe in

Knowing more than this life could ever afford,

To be purchased, or to be bought and sold;

An offering or a curse of awareness, a common

Problem or burden from the window

I’ve been gazing through;

Contemplating who, answering the same. Always questioning, “What are you waiting for?”

Merry-Go-Round

Posted on June 3, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

A clown marks the start of another ride
Pushing the red button before pulling the trigger
A merry-go-round of children laughing;
Masking the cluster of images swirling in their heads
Masters of temptation, grabbing hold of the nearest mount
Legions of horses, zebras, lions, every face imaginable;
Chasing the last return of a glance ahead.

As a champion of excitement, a wanderer through the torn,
yellowed bodies mapping out the ranks;
Crinkled pieces of scroll, that roll out to be told
to insert a spiritual boldness to the heroes
Ready, waiting to listen.

Grasping the reins of my own companion, golden stallion, unicorn
Guiding the flow of thought with a flick of the wrist
Gliding above them all, watching and waiting for the carnival to end.

The battle endures, winding round and round
Can we have a victory if we’re close to ending it with nothing at all?
What defines a truth without the pathway to the lie
And what lies ahead?

One magnified view of the billowing dust cloud approaching from the distance
The marshmallow cumulonimbus blowing in on a frontal attack of corruption
Disguising stubbornness with determination
Underestimating the ground that claims each footstep

Of the riders as they step off of the stage when the whirlwind is over
Will we find ourselves walking again with nowhere to go?

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Teeter-Totter

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seesaw

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It’s your turn to rise higher on the teeter-totter

The momentum slows as the weight of mind gets heavier

up, down, up, down

We follow the motions accordingly

Pushing self harder off ground to claim the highest authority

Friends on the playground, enemies of the mind

Must be stronger! faster! smarter! to WIN this life

up, down, up, down

Puppets to one another as our fragile strings sway

Sneaking in and out of thought as the hanging tendrils fray

Assuming ownership of answers from our unasked questions

Admiring self to prove worth, especially when others show weakness

up, down, up, down

Your success doesn’t endanger the promises of my own

Your intelligence doesn’t discredit what I’ve learned

Your beauty doesn’t make me any less than myself

The hate builds with every created comparison we choose to accept

up, down, up, down

The balance shifts as we continue our impasse

Schoolkids fighting for domination of attention

Stopping to take notice when opinions of ridicule seem best

Using chance to display rank with each hasty judgement

up, down, up………………………………………..

 

I am grateful for some quiet alone time. ❤

Sunsweat – The Fancy Pears

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Many of you know that I claim to be a writer, whatever that really means, but what some of my WordPress friends might not know is that I also like to sing and play guitar/mandolin!

My band The Fancy Pears has finally released our first song “Sunsweat.” I’m so excited to be able to share this with everyone. We’ve been working nonstop the last couple of months to make this happen and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I love these guys!

Follow us if you’d like to be a pearhead 😉

  1. Website: http://www.thefancypears.com
  2. Reverbnation: https://www.reverbnation.com/thefancypears
  3. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheFancyPears/
  4. Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheFancyPears

 

Monthly Archives: May 2014

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Just another day…

Posted on May 21, 2014 by MuseWriter

Stumbling about
the elite of kamakazi grasshoppers
Divebombing from root to leaf to bark to stone
Criss-crossing across the
bleached pavement before
my step catches up
The tall grass stalks sway
And the shadows mimic
the trees overhead
The colorful movement and
mixture of every green
Imaginable

Then there was John Lennon
driving a yellow vw bug
Glasses and all,
Reincarnation of man and car
Checking into the 904
Or wherever that road
leads down to
Somewhere

At the end, my pathway was blocked
by slimy demons asking
the questions everyone is
wondering, not that it really matters
But there they were with all
of the intimidation that only
half-wit monsters can muster
More impressed with portrayal
of deception, rather than a
More relatable diversion, like,
Whatever

Just another day…

 

The Book

Posted on May 11, 2014 by MuseWriter

At the bottom of a box I found a book

A thrill, really

An excitement to begin someone else’s story,

without really knowing anything about

any of it

 

The pages turned, the words placed elegantly

across the off-white surface

Calligraphy adorning the beginning

of each chapter, the first letter of

the first word

 

The writer was good in displaying his craft

Creating time portals for lost souls

to try to find their bodies again

A fascinating relation of one person haunting her while

she haunted him

The battle of love

retold in the countless war stories

of the oldER, ordER

 

I opened the book wide

Folded it out and laid it upon the wooden

desk, as I continued to

flip, flip, flip

not noticing the time

passing or the music echoing somewhere

from some corner

of the room

 

Until I stopped on open blank pages;

as if it didn’t even exist

The story just ended

 

Memories

Posted on May 9, 2014 by MuseWriter

We were talking

as we always tend to find ourselves

Midconversation, without even realizing

we’ve said anything

Words of explanations to escape the pain of

dealing with it all firsthand

A discharge of the unhappy breath of

a man known as nothing, and me observing;

what is it we claim to believe, really again?

He looked at me with an intensity

that only he could seem to produce

The words spewing from his lips in

a disgusted contempt

A snarl changing the shape

of his face;

as he thought about what he was saying

“NO!”

I said

The only word I was brave enough

to interject his vent

To disrupt his train of thought and offer an

attempt to break through the brick wall

of his layers of strength and of sickness

Overlapping and intertwining

intermixing with the drugs he’s been buying

In result, the mind turning on, off, on, off

A familiar repetition to anyone who’s ever been

afraid to feel

I saw it then, the look in his eyes

The flicker of fire

Somehow he’s managed to

still have a shadow of smoke

burning inside

I couldn’t breathe

As if he needed my breath then

sucked it into himself

to fill himself up with the thoughts

running around in my head

and the feelings that I’ve felt

A quick gaze into my soul to

continue his practices of exploration

Never thinking that he could

open himself up to me

As he stood there vulnerable to comfort

facing in my direction

As if we somehow forgot the threaded string

roping us together

Chest to Chest

There was never a mirror, nor a piece of glass

There are no fairy-tales nor explosive tragic endings

 

There are only the imprinting golden lights of

memories shining in our dreams

Who cares what to believe anymore

Blue-hue Figures

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Who is the wanderer

Wishing for contact

The imaginary wonder

Between night and day

Take these dreams

To keep them asleep

With their absent memories

Hushed in discovery

There’s a key

In this wicked scheme

And it’s with me

As I am, the keeper

Shadow silhouettes raise fist

In knocking attempts

Twisting hopeful access

Without entry

Blue-hue figures stay

To claim the palisade

Unknowingly entering

The sealed gate

To only run away

When confused thoughts sway

Into here and now

Of multiple realities

 

I am grateful for Monday afternoons ❤

Ribbon Colors

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Let’s end this wretched business

Exhausted from waves of wishes

Desired ribbon colors shifting

Up and down up and down up and down

Existing on the isthmus

Stance imagined is weightless

Craving light blinding flashes

In and out in and out in and out

Contemplating foreign physics

Within the quiet of each decision

To finish thoughts with forgiveness

Life and death life and death life and death

 

I am grateful for quiet moments ❤

 

Photo cred: wallpapersxl.com