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And Paradise Awaits
by Jesse T. Arron He promised you the world. He called you beautiful. Then something changed. He took care of you, alright. _______________________________
Take Care ______________________________
Gray Intent ______________________________
by Bobbi Curtis Happiness is something bought. I have paid my price of sorrow
When evening comes I need you . . . like the sand Somewhere . . . somehow we’ve
By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis In death there is peace. At night comes the darkness. Together -- Paradise.
The fires burn bright. The birds came singing. Why is there no kindness here?
Self-Eulogy ________________________________
To all
my relations by Brenda Rich
so the animals can evolve into mutants that can't survive past birth.
On the Tabla Rasa it is etched
when they create these self propagating art forms
Void
the darkness that contains all possibilities the suffocating insanity of apathetic lunacy
that if let loose would explode across the world in one quiet death…mine. To be who I wish to be ....would frighten people To do what I wish to do....would hurt people To think what I wish to think....would make me insane What am I doing now?....I'm wishing.
Their hands my hands, touching Their needs my needs, wanting Their thirst my thirst, yearning Woven words of worlds tangled within dreams of realities never to happen What is it, this missing piece one hungers to claim? Fantasy
He has my body pinned beneath him Filling me and draining me; Loving me and hating me; raising me up and subjecting me. The center of his world The reason for him The light to his dark How can I not love him ...My Master. Two rooms...two lives, together but separate Should I feel secure when I come in and you leave? The bed is for two yet usually only sleeps one The kisses are there The hugs are there But few and far between. I know it is my fault as well. Remember when a shoulder is offered to a head that is afraid, it means so much more then endearing words that can be said in passing.
You see me through artificial spirits that cloud your eyes and your step I can sense it before you tell me; it hurts You tell me it's because I am too much to handle...I am overwhelming Why can't you understand I want to be overwhelming Not obscured...then forgotten. The point is hollow will it fulfill my dreams? With a light pull it will start a chain reaction That will release the kinetic energy into my brain Will the end let me begin again?
Release, cherish and become shadow Dark, sublime, honest Its not nightmares but normality that frightens me Being blind with perfectly good eyes Seeing plastic, being plastic, yearning for more plastic Being real is to be shadow to me Dark looking out towards...knowing.
How can I explain that there is a need inside that there is a desire, which burns what I cannot hide It is a call, a sending, a beckon for my romancer I expose the flesh and wait for the answer Ah, to feel the ivory points of love part my skin, from which the dance of immortality would begin Each impale me with the softness of silk, and then he begins to suckle as if on mother’s milk. The warmth escapes my body, the vibrations stir form within he moves over me with tenderness, I ask, how could this be sin? Love me I say to the dream of night and shadow, pierce my heart with your eyes all a glow. My mind then heard his voice softly proclaim you are my love as the night is in my vein. With that I let go of my earthly tether and embraced my night lover for now and forever….
He is RealHe is real to me…even if he can not exist. His form; pale, slim, muscular...haunts my mind To be with him; close, loving…safe. To talk to him; not with words…knowing To exchange with him that which makes me alive for that which is only in my mind
Imagination is his realm; it beckons to me Reality is harsh…to bright There is a small line that separates them, yet by a small line one can link them…forever He will come to me when I have the courage to create that line; when crimson existence magnifies both realms and within the light we will unite in the darkness of ourselves.
TOO MuchI dream, they say too much I wish they say to things I can not have I hope they say of times that will not be Yet, he is there…that is his place One of hope, wishes and dreams How can I not go to him? He motions to me with outstretched arms They say he is not real…he cannot be. Real…a word that haunts me Real…a word that is hard and cold Real…a word in which I am trapped But he rescues me each night as the ethereal space of fantasy envelops me. I dream with in his strong arms. And at least each night as I sleep in a state close to death, I can finally realize I am truly alive.
The PathWhere are the sign posts marking the way I’ve been told to look for them…yet I never find those described. Do I really need them? Hasn’t this all been planned? How simple is it? Or how hard…can it be? The path has been tread before – did I do this or was it come one before me? When was it new? I look back… Behind me the path is gone as it never existed, and before me it’s clear I stop The sign posts begin to appear in mass. Beckoning me forward. All I can do is simply turn around and walk away.
It's all around me I bring it...it's not mine but it comes to me...I attract it That is my gift Emotional and Spiritual pain are my specialties Physical pain only helps me focus Look forward to the ending of it End me Take away your pain Throw me away Take away my pain Kill me.
Why are Tears Clear?
by Brenda Rich
Once upon a time, you've heard it begin the tale We listen intensely to the story unfold for it will never fail ...to disappoint.
For the book closes, the words stop, the movie ends and the credits roll Then another day dawns where you fall.
To be happy is the goal, the dream of hope, the wish of a dream come true, the facade of optimism used as a mask to just get though Keep smiling for maybe just maybe it will become real.
Then you find that you know the truth for as you close your eyes for the final time, they will miss you for not more then a breath...and then their life goes on happily ever after.
by Brenda Rich
___________________________ By Sedona I took a long, long walk. I let the road guide me, But then I wondered how it would feel to wander free.
I took a long, long walk. I felt the breeze, the rain, the snow, But then I wondered how it would feel to grow.
I took a long, long walk. I let things happen instead of running the show, But then I wondered what would happen if I let another take control.
I took a long, long walk. I became tired and lay down to rest for just a bit, But then I wondered what would happen if I made it all fit.
I took a long, long walk. I realized that fulfillment came from doing it all. I no longer wondered. I saw the whole.
By Sedona
I’m not full of wisdom; I’m full of questions. Age does not make you smarter or wiser, It makes you realize how little you know, How much you want to learn, And how little time you have left to learn it.
I’m not full of hopes and dreams; I’m full of despair. Age brings the knowledge of all you’ve missed – Opportunities gone forever, Possibilities never realized.
However, the chance still exists To make a difference, To teach the young and the dreamers To never let their dreams blow away.
_________________________
DAN SCHMUCKER
by tenderness of touch and closeness in Heart and Soul. God Knows.
I have such hopes and dreams.
the dying world crave the Essence of it. God Knows.
That is where I need to leave it. God Knows.
DAN SCHMUCKER When the day dawns, And I am not wanting to get out of bed When I am rummaging through my gradually heightening Senses like a summer garage sale hit by marauders... When I am plodding toward the coffee maker I see you in the sunrise. I see the array of color and awe that holds my eyes Until I am again reminded There IS beauty to be embraced. I see you in the sunrise.
During the day When the ugliness of the world around me Invades my space and time, I see your picture, tucked away for times like this... You have invaded where the darkness had crept, And I can breathe in more deeply the goodness that cannot be crushed... I see you inside my smile. You roam freely in my heart And rise when I need you. And in the midst of backed up traffic, Snarling faces... Harried and hurried expressions, I see you. And I smile, from the inside out.
At the day's end, When I am tired and wearied by the day's scolding, At those times I really want to see you. And then I find you. I see you in the sunset. I see you at that time when the Creator Paints the horizon in color and glorious reminders There IS beauty. There IS hope. There IS promise.
I love you. ______________________________ By Dan Schmucker 2005 We are in the Holiday season, with its myriad of symbols, and an avalanche of retail commercialism. Retail competition heightens and the marketing of the season seems to supersede the real and deeper meanings. We are pitched beer, wine, whiskey, vodka, and champagne on the surface, and methamphetamines, cocaine and marijuana in the shadows to celebrate the times of note. We clink the bottles and glasses, but the connections are usually not much deeper than the bottom of the container. We are urged to buy clothing and games, toys and vehicles . . . dare I forget diamonds? During the holiday season, we are subjected to sale upon sale, often of merchandise we really have to convince ourselves is worth buying. We watch and hear stories of living nutcrackers, snowmen who come to life, elves and flying reindeer. It is easy to become cynical in the morass of messages. The desires we have of family unity, true love, close friendships, loving children, and hearts of joy with thanksgiving are very real. The discordance we experience in our everyday lives when placed next to our dream network can nudge us toward sarcasm. People are selfish – we see that daily driving on our way to work, and while getting in lines at stores. Our kids want more even after they have just received more. We become disillusioned after opening the boxes and finding there were only material objects inside, not the happiness and contentment we had hoped for . . . the wrapping and ribbons, bows and glitter are carted to the trash or the hearth, the box to the dump, and our hopes held in reserve. Where your heart is, there will your treasure be also. While it may not always take some effort to obtain True gifts, doesn't it require more than the superficial to realize the treasure? There is the need for our descention to deeper levels of honesty. The need for our minds to re-consider what is really important, what really matters and for what we are settling. A frightening need to evaluate who we are, how we are, where we have been, and where we are headed should become apparent. The Door to that place is daunting, intimidating. Only the brave will enter. But bravery is the taking of action despite fear, not the absence of it. It is in this scenario, where the shadows grow loud, and our deepest and darkest fears lurk nearby like a panther near a cattle bin, that we must decide to fight rather than continue to run. Perhaps the Answer is not so obscure. Maybe Help is not so distant. Immersed in the stew of images and stories is one from centuries ago, when hope was dimmed to a smoldering wick in times of oppressive Darkness. The renderings of the event still abound, but the depictions have long since divorced the Reality. At times it seems to have been buried in cliché, but the story is far from trite. Luke 2 (New King James Version) New King James Version (NKJV) Copyright © 1982 by Luke 2 1 And it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This census first took place while Quirinius was governing Syria. 3 So all went to be registered, everyone to his own city.4 Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, 5 to be registered with Mary, his betrothed wife,[a] who was with child. 6 So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. 7 And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
8 Now there
were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch
over their flock by night. 9 And behold,[b]
an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone
around them, and they were greatly afraid. 10 Then the angel said to them,
“Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which
will be to all people. 11 For there is born to you this day in the city of
David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12 And this will be the sign
to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a
manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the
heavenly host praising God and saying: cf1c]15 So it was, when the angels had gone away from them into heaven, that the shepherds said to one another, “Let us now go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 And they came with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the Babe lying in a manger. 17 Now when they had seen Him, they made widely[d] known the saying which was told them concerning this Child. 18 And all those who heard it marveled at those things which were told them by the shepherds. 19 But Mary kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. 20 Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told them. "The True Light which enlightens every man was coming into the world." wrote John. There are some provocative thoughts here if we dare to look. Biblical writers clearly taught that nothing happens by accident. Nothing. Jesus, in the accounts of the writers of the Bible, is clearly depicted as Immortal God wrapped in human flesh. His arrival, birth place, events in his life, and even how He would die were predicted in over three hundred separate and specific prophesies, and over a period of centuries. Jesus, the Co-Creator of the Universe, is born in a manger – not the Jerusalem Hilton. That surely would not have been the choice of a birthplace for kings of that or any other era. He was born in a manger, a feeding trough for farm animals! We should not pass by Luke's description of the baby's clothing, either – swaddling cloth was also used for burial . . . The context of that statement is often lost in the urban perspective. After all, we have mostly moved away from the countryside and entered the cities long ago. This is where it takes us – to a place few dare to tread, fewer stay to reel in what is shown us, and a sparse remnant commits to heart. Dare we go where the shepherds, who had long ago become outcasts (they had even lost their right to vote) went? If this story is true, and bear in mind it has NEVER been disproven, IF this story is True, a remarkable thing has happened. Since there are no accidents, the Creator chose to be wrapped in flesh like one of us. He chose to be born to a teen-age girl in a small town in the Middle East where war wages still, and to have a construction worker as His stepfather. At the time of His birth, He was wrapped in cloth commonly used for burials, and then placed in an animal feeding trough. He was visited and adored by outcasts. None of this was by accident. Let that seep into the pores of our weathered skins and into the deserts of our hearts where we can be refreshed – none of this was an accident. Here we can drink in deeply. The Creator is showing all generations, including ours, that He is not here for the perfect people. Not for the ones who believe they have no needs, no brokenness, no damaged and brittle lives, no broken hearts . . . He came for us. He starts in a place of filth, much like our hearts, which have become hardened and calloused by our wars. There was no room for Him when He was needed so badly, and the message is so clear for you and me. There was no room in the finest of places. That means you and I can afford to drop the pretenses, lower the masks, sweep away some of the rubble in our embittered hearts, and allow Him in – to birth Light in us, so that we can truly become enlightened, to teach us how to be loved and how to love, to show us how to be forgiven, as well as how to forgive. What a Gift. A Holiday that can be embraced in the midst of battle. A Hope that can be tightly held in the darkest of nights. What a Gift. ______________________________ Dan Schmucker January 13, 2007
In this cold, when ice has wrapped itself around my truck
Sometimes it seems like it must be my heart that is so cold...
Inside my truck, once the engine is started,
In the vehicle of my existence,
It reminds me ______________________________
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Your absence has prompted me to search memory for your places in my
life. There are the times we confronted strife and helped each other shoulder burdens.
I remember when you were battered - fighting your personal demons.
You helped me move.
Somewhere, in the hallways of time, your demons returned.
You called me.
(I am wishing you had deported those demons.)
Now the day of your death has scarred my heart... like the notches
on the handle of the gunfighter's pistol. ______________________________ by Dan Schmucker
When I came near, I could see the lantern glowing.
That castle is formidable. It can repress most assaults.
Now in your castle, you think you are safely nestled from the
storms
When you were younger, you Believed.
Then you embraced those who were not ready to love. Not willing to
live in Truth.
I know you retain hope for a future time sequestered in your Soul,
I hope you will one day you exit the fortress- ______________________________ By Dan Schmucker
I find myself driving through these canyons
So many twists; so many turns
There are barriers of concrete
And here I am rolling down these canyons
There are skid marks on the concrete
If I allowed myself to listen
I am driving through these canyons,
The sky is growing darker
I turn on the headlights
So many twists; so many turns
There are barriers of concrete
Where others crashed into the walls ______________________________ by Dan Schmucker April 8, 2007
Is this it? Is this what we allowed ourselves to be reduced to? Muted indifference instead of genuine involvement? Rote communication instead of interest? Habituated touch instead of intimacy?
Whatever made us think Fire needs no fuel? What contemptuous mind set told us Love needs no connection to a Source?
We have become like a crow with only one wing, who’s forgotten its destination. Wishful thinking and day-dreaming is not enough to keep us on shaky feet. Couldn't we feel the drifting? Couldn't we hear the sounds of separation? Now we stare in the coals of what should be fire When the shadows have grown loud.
______________________________ by Dan Schmucker
25 April 2007
I am straining to see Tears well up in my eyes, and I fight to keep them from tumbling over the walls When I close my eyes, I think they will spill out, and I will be exposed. My throat has that sensation … That if I start to speak, the words will strike the place in my heart that is valiantly trying to restrain the tears, and my voice will crack. My thoughts are alternately freezing - affording me the chance to hold back one minute, and then running, dancing about in my head, and tottering tenuously on the precipice the next. Time stretches. The moment seems to be in an eerie suspension. Did you say something? I watch your lips move and hear sounds corresponding to the movement… The processing inside takes what seems to be excruciatingly slow I know I am expected to reply But my heart is not in it. My eyes dart away… The sensation in my throat rises to the base of my mouth, and I swallow hard, hoping to send it back, away from the region where words and worse may escape. I manage to raise my eyes. I look at you, directly into your eyes. This time I will not yield. The silence, which has commanded an audience, has taken Character. The God Who molded me will surely pour Grace into me, and I will be renewed. I will stand in His Grace. I will trust in His mercy I will not yield, but to Him I am straining to see…
______________________________ by Dan Schmucker
30 April 2007
Even the word’s composition sparks visions. We are like ships, housing our Souls as we navigate about an ocean of time and space.
Some are merchant ships, focused on trade and commerce. Some are sporting craft or cruise ships, seeking pleasure and little else. Some are submariners, surfacing for everyone to see, but when they are unseen they are potentially destructive and covert in activities. Some pirate ships, self indulgent at the expense of others. Some are multi-purpose crafts, able to adapt to different conditions and settings, like houseboats. Some are destroyers and some are lifeboats. Some are warships.
Need I say some are dinghies?
Some of us lack adequate navigational equipment. Some struggle just to stay afloat. Some of us are sunk in battle. Some in storm. Some by raiders. Some by the elements. Some have crashed on the reefs of indifference. Some rammed into the icebergs of coldness. Some, after setting out on a course, become isolated and lost at sea . . . drifting and losing contact and communication. Some of us never make it to Safe Harbor.
There are ships and boats that don’t realize their value until they are used for a great and magnificent purpose . . . Like a small raft used to rescue a drowning soul. Like a tug boat that brings smiles into the lives of children. Like a fishing boat that feeds the hungry. Like the boat the Savior stepped out of onto a sea and into the Hopes of all ages . . .
The distance between us varies greatly on any given day. The ocean may become treacherous.
We may fear for our lives and for those we care for and about. We try to prepare for what the sea has in store for us. We try to be readied for the storms. We hope to have ample supply for our sustenance should calamity strike, and we become ship-wrecked.
Even if we realize we have drifted, and lost our way, even if we become frightened by the storms at sea . . . God knows what we need – ask Peter. We must not lose heart. We must not lose Hope. The Maker of the Seas has not lost sight of us – Ask Jonah. Do you really think you can navigate the Oceans of Time, Space and Reality alone in the ship you are in? Ask yourself.
______________________________ by Dan Schmucker April 03, 2007
This day has been hard. I try to walk away from its troubles But the separation doesn’t come easy.
Driving - I see the same turmoil that is in my mirror on the faces around me. As the distance from work grows, my mind begins to ease.
I wish I could see your face now I wish I could touch you I wish I could hold you…
You have a way of making me want to brush off the worry Shake off the dust of the day And breathe again.
Talk to me until I can’t hear the voices from work Hold me until I can’t feel the pressures of the day Kiss me until I can’t taste the time away from you.
Hold me.
______________________________ by Dan Schmucker 29 April 2007
Stop. Let me look into your eyes. I want to see if you have gone.
Let me hold your hand. I want to feel if warmth still flows through your touch. I want to feel you touch me back… Show me your pulse.
Let me touch your face. I need to see if you pull back in recoil Or soften in my hands.
You seem as if you are standing on a distant shore. You are so far away, So far away that I can’t tell in your expression If you are waving a greeting for arrival, Or the good bye for passage to another land.
This would be easier if you were thousands of miles away, Than it is to see you so close and distant simultaneously. That Sparkle… That Hope… That Light… Now receded into the coldness of your surroundings And the resignation of the defeated who have all but surrendered.
Don’t give up. Hope Lives. Your value has not diminished because of loss. Your Deliverer has not forgotten you. The Day will surely come When this pain will be a memory rarely visited.
Close your eyes now. Listen to the call to your Soul From your Maker. That’s not disgust in His voice. It’s Promise. Hope. Strength. Love is coming for you. Don’t go.
______________________________
Dan Schmucker
Clouds build. At first they are barely visible on the distant horizon. After some intervals pass, their arrival is imminent. They are picking up both tempo and intensity.
The darkening sends the message. It’s coming. Get ready. It’s coming. It’s coming if you’re ready or not. It’s not going to ask your permission. It’s not going to beg your consent. It’s not going to wait patiently for you to prepare. It’s coming. The rumblings and internal flashes of lightning announce its power. The ground shudders.
It may be news that rattles the windows to your soul. It may be a loss you don’t think you can bear. It may make your world tremble. It may be the death of a friend, a dream, a child or a career. Divorce or disease. Financial or physical disaster. It may strike all at once, or in a series of catastrophes.
The shellacking may make us crave cover that is not readily discoverable. We may want to collapse in the waves of adversity. The losses may swarm us in despair. Even if we diligently and conscientiously prepare, we will be struck by the storm. Sometimes not a singular, solitary event, but by storm fronts. Sometimes by seasons and progressions of storms.
The pain may bring us to our knees… And that is not a bad place to be. That is where we fight. That is where we steady ourselves. That is where we re-group and begin to stabilize. One day, Storm Clouds may be preceding return of the King of Kings.
The question isn’t really if the Storm will hit, is it? Storms will hit. The harder question is, “Am I ready?”
______________________________ (Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
I never ever want to treat you bad, But I somehow always make you sad, Dear remember its not what I mean, I always want you happy as ever and so keen.
When I saw you first , I knew you were for me, For great was the radiance and sunshine just for me, There I stopped not looking back or further, Coz’ there I saw my beautiful one for me altogether.
And when I make you sad I die a thousand times, Not knowing that my only one has already bled many times, I took away your peace and calm with my hand, God why do I do this to you I fail to understand.
Still my beautiful one you come back to me, For you know I don’t mean all this a bit wee, You are the music and lyrics of our tale, You are the sunshine and the nightingale.
I don’t foresee life without being with you, We are as bonded to each other as fortunate few, I know you are there thru thick and thin of me, No matter we are far away across the seven sea.
And here I promise not to make you sad again, With me you will laugh like flowing champagne, I am here to love, inspire you and take your care, Like a gift of God without whom my life would be in despair.
Just know I cry when you cry, I laugh when you laugh, I get hurt when you get hurt, I breathe when you breathe, I hold out my hand to you to give and take support, You are the one and the only one, so don’t ever say me goodbye.
....... Arvy
by Arvy (Dedicated to NR by Arvy) A year ago, if we would have crossed each other, Would you have noticed me, no way… A year ago, if we would have seen each other, Would you have talked to me, can’t say…
But now what would you do when you cross me I wouldn’t say… But now what would you say when you see me I wouldn’t say…
Coz’ I know it’s not required now to know What you would do or say…. Coz’ I know you are there speechless but speaking for me Like a glory basking so gay…
Here is me standing in front of you just wanting To tell you I am here to stay… Coz’ over the seven seas and the skies it seems There is a path on the bay…
I see you clear as a crystal though I know you not One day I will talk to you if I may… I hear you clean as a whistle though I know you not One day I will hear you, I pray…
A year after, if we would cross each other Would you notice me, can’t say… A year after, if we would see each other Would you talk to me, please say…
…Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
As I walk down the memory lane, I see you thru the window pane, Dusky and radiant in the rain, My steps stop to make me insane, Lot to say but it makes me lame, Is the feeling out there the same?
....... Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
Though I saw you never, yet you look a close 'un, Remembering me with your sweet call made me see fun, Possessed with a smile so sweet that makes my day, May all the glory and blessings come your way.
As the love of your heart seeps in to fill my heart, Scent of you and whiff of your feelings makes u a special one apart, You are the wish, you are the only one, Beautiful as always, dear with u its always fun.
You are like a brook flowing innocently down the hills, Meandering without complains over the pebbles and round the mills, Shining like silver, singing like a nightingale, Your fragrance ever so fresh and never ever stale.
For we are the truth for one another, Which no one can ever dare to smother, Do remember me whenever you fear to fail. For I will be right beside you, so u never get frail.
....... Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
Dear dream a dream with me, Standing in the sunshine of my countryside, With the chills and the scent in hours wee, Our love flares up as high as a tide.
Dear dream a dream with me, Walking down the pebbled path, Hand held in mine in glee, Let us embark on our love path.
Dear dream a dream with me, Crossing the stream and feet bare, Cool water running thru roots of an old tree, Showers of love engulf us as I run my fingers thru your flowing hair.
Dear dream a dream with me, Walking on the grasslands of my countryside, Shrubs and flowers alive with butterflies and bee, As we revere the nature, I see you in love with eyes wide.
Dear dream a dream with me, Crossing the woods with that reedy sound, Chirping of birds and deer roaming free, Love scented with jungle pine and mint profound.
Dear dream a dream with me, Gazing the lofty mountains, the Great Himalayas, Dressed coated all over with many a pine tree, Our love flows down them as the mighty Ganges, so pious.
Dear dream a dream with me, Listen to the chiming of the temple bells, Ringing in my valley so serene and care free, As the melody of our love cast upon us magical spells.
Dear dream a dream with me, As the children run out of the schools, Merry and happy to the homes in spree, As them, our love stands out like shining jewels.
Dear dream a dream with me, In the moonlight of my countryside, Cool breeze blows across the valley so free, You there beside me my love, you are my bride.
Dear dream a dream with me, I hold you in my arms in my countryside, Showers of love all over like a full sea, It’s only your love my sweet, which makes me glide.
…Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
River flows, Down the mountains, Rushing and gushing, Singing a melody.
Sunbeam dances, On the rushing waters, Gleaming and shining, Colorful like a rainbow.
Birds descend, To quench thirst, Joyful and chirpy, Singing like a nightingale.
Isn’t it you my love, Who flows and rush and sing, Isn’t it you my sweetie, Who dance and gleam and is colorful. Isn’t it you my honey, Who chirps in joy and love?
Yes I know it’s only you, my love, I can know it from this far, Waiting for me as I wait for you, Loving me ever and ever, more and more, Coz' it can be only you and you.
…Arvy
________________________
Looking at the path below,
_________________________ Writings by Reverend Ann-Marie Goldstein Also visit Tarotime the Monthly Horoscope by Ann-Marie
I shed tears of Joy
Who is the man
Who is this man
Who is this man
For Sunday, after all, ________________________________ Poetry by Elizabeth Feisst
PURITY OF HEART & MIND
Purity of heart and mind
Worthy aim within to find
Observing carefully what is thought
Feelings to in time be caught
A thought creating future life
Best be one not causing strife
Feelings also best to be
One's of love and harmony
The pure heart is full of grace
A loving, kindly, gentle space
A mind that's clear will ever see
The truth as it should really be
Mind as one creates with ease
Living life becomes a breeze
Adding then a heart of love
And so within is as above
Vesting in this pure aim
Becomes a joy for all to claim
A pure heart, a pure mind
Pending future peaceful kind
Pure intent to gratify
End result will testify
Purity of heart and mind
Worthy aim within to find
Copyright Elizabeth A Feisst 6 August 2005
Please visit the author's site to read more of her work.
EMBRACING THE GOOD
Embracing the good
Let go of the rest
This now has become
The challenging test
The time is now ripe
The mind to renew
For in not doing so
Will see truth askew
The image of God
We are so it seems
The god of us all
The god of our dreams
This image is real
Its time for to be
Manifested as form
The truth for to see
If God equals good
Then why do we wander
We are all there is
No more time to squander
The good is divine
This image is ours
Lets claim for to be
The magic it flowers
Embracing the good
Let go of the rest
This now has become
The challenging test
Copyright Elizabeth A Feisst 4 August 2005
Please visit the author's site to read more of her work.
________________________________
THE PLEDGE
These voices I must lay to rest,
Want to be free from the voices inside From this day forward, never say die!
I will no longer live in the past
Carpe ‘Diem! Seize the day
________________________________ Writings by Dame Niamh Costello It is so sad, my friend, that I May quest and thirst and only know The half-drawn shadow of the white Moon on my head And never know the dog-moon's teeth around my wrists.
Although you are so strong Although you are so live The Moon’s blood is in these white bones And so, I fear, you cannot warm me; even you Would shrivel cold from my white chill.
I know your arm is the tree's arm I know you are sap and trunk I know you are seed and whirling downy wing And warm with the earth And so I must leave, leave you, my love, In the Moon light, in the witch-light.
Spring is déjà vu time. It is always a surprise Even though I have lived so many springs, I wonder: Was I here before? And I always smile, seeing the returned birds, noticing the red buds fattening, feeling the heat of the sun again. I smile and almost remember that I stood in the same place before, asking the same question: Is this the promise fulfilled, the promise God made us mid‑winter? But I never really remember How it felt before, and before, And so it is always a surprise, Spring is déjà vu time.
If I unpod you, terrified pea, If I shuck you, tender clam, If I unhouse you, hermit‑crab; If I should tear down, stone by stone, Your castle wall, smash your portcullis, (having swum your crocodile‑moat) And storm your gates;
If I should cause to rust all your armor, Blow up your tank, scale your redoubt, If I steam‑shovel away the boulders You heap about you as you cry,” Reach me!" If I should hundred‑megaton your bunker And radiate prana enough to atomize your disguise,
Would it cause you concern That I might harm "the sheltered one," Or (worse) laugh? Am I terrible, Mighty, clawed and fanged, arcane, Bigger than you?
First I pelted your door with roses, Petitioned entry, sent missives, left my card, Invited you to tea. Now, Thank you kindly, I'll heft my shield and runcible sword And stump off, defeated by your defenses. I DON'T CLIMB HAIR.
I heard her song before I saw her, Gentle music falling through the sweaty air Slow and soft song picking its way through the people Boiling and rushing, like rapids, along the tiled subway hall. The Celtic harp set on her knee, she plucked Green gentle notes that fell like small green leaves from the strings, an air reminiscent of rocks and sea, clouds down upon the shore. Her brown hair fell like leaves over her face. I stooped to put some money in her bag and said, “I wish I could stay to hear you play.” Her smile curved upwards, like a crescent moon Upon the green leaves, rocks and sea, and followed me, music and moon, all day.
The forest breathes, Holds its breath; Light, shade and steamy distance Advance, retreat.
The prism of perception, memory, Passes, trailing its garments Over the mossy floor. Birds flute, call and answer. The cold shadows lap at sun-pools.
Is it enough to pass, Indifferent to the forest, Hearing only the heart's drum? And who will have the wisdom To pierce the layers of folded time, To part the dream-veils And gaze on the face of one's desiring?
All, copyright 2002 Niamh Costello
The Warrior's Legacy
|
_______________________________
by Bobbi Curtis
Happiness is something bought.
We pay for it with our sadness.
Remember, all life is a balance.
When sadness comes in great quantity,
An amount of happiness comes to make an equality.
The trays of the balance can not be,
Are not cheated
I have paid my price of sorrow
And torture – not physical – just mental.
Now I can have my due of happiness –
Not physical – just mental.
I wonder if my happiness in one field
Can total the full tray of sorrow suffered,
But not avenged.
When evening comes
And I’m alone
I think of you – Yes . . .
As the stars and the moon shine bright,
I can’t really see them
Since you are my only light.
Without you I am like the
Sand, naked to the wind.
I need you . . . like the sand
Needs the sea . . . to cover
And protect me against a power
Too mighty for me to cope with alone.
When we’re together, your voice
Is music –
Talking, singing, laughing –
I don’t care.
I reach a finger to your hair
Then look deep into your eyes
As if to find an answer to the love we share.
But is there really an answer?
Although thoughts of you
Return to me as waves to the shore
I can’t fully understand anymore.
Somewhere . . . somehow we’ve
Lost something – a note of
Harmony to our lives, as if
Too many discords are
Twanging too loudly.
If we can get away . . .
If we can learn to not listen . . .
Then . . . we can . . .
If
If
By Bobbi Bartsch Curtis
In death there is peace.
At night comes the darkness.
Together -- Paradise.
The fires burn bright.
The birds came singing.
Why is there no kindness here?
________________________________
To all my relations
we are all connected
by Brenda Rich
It ripples from me whether I like it or not, I effect and am effected.
Is it good or is it bad? Can we truly control it?
Save the child...so he can kill thousands when he grows up
Create a vaccine...so the bacteria can evolve to become deadlier
Kill the evil wolf...so the deer can over populate and starve to death
Create more electronic innovations...so all living things can get cancer
easier.
Kill the pests with chemicals...so the animals can evolve into mutants that
can't survive past birth.
Go out do good...to all my relations...we are all connected.
On the Tabla Rasa it is etched
In the fertile soil it is cultivated
In the virgin clay it is meticulously formed and forged.
The self proclaimed artists know what they do when they create these self
propagating art forms
Because all know one is not born a bigot.
Void
In the beginning creation came from the void, the darkness that contains all
possibilities
Yet my darkness is nothing save the suffocating insanity of apathetic lunacy
that if let loose would explode across the world in one quiet death…mine.
To be who I wish to be ....would frighten people
To do what I wish to do....would hurt people
To think what I wish to think....would make me insane
What am I doing now?....I'm wishing.
Their hands my hands, touching
Their needs my needs, wanting
Their thirst my thirst, yearning
Woven words of worlds tangled within dreams of realities never to happen
What is it, this missing piece one hungers to claim? Fantasy
He has my body pinned beneath him
Filling me and draining me; Loving me and hating me; raising me up and subjecting me.
The center of his world
The reason for him
The light to his dark
How can I not love him ...My Master.
Two rooms...two lives, together but separate
Should I feel secure when I come in and you leave?
The bed is for two yet usually only sleeps one
The kisses are there
The hugs are there
But few and far between.
I know it is my fault as well.
Remember when a shoulder is offered to a head that is afraid, it means so much more then endearing words that can be said in passing.
You see me through artificial spirits that cloud your eyes and your step
I can sense it before you tell me; it hurts
You tell me it's because I am too much to handle...I am overwhelming
Why can't you understand I want to be overwhelming
Not obscured...then forgotten.
The point is hollow will it fulfill my dreams?
With a light pull it will start a chain reaction
That will release the kinetic energy into my brain
Will the end let me begin again?
Release, cherish and become shadow
Dark, sublime, honest
Its not nightmares but normality that frightens me
Being blind with perfectly good eyes
Seeing plastic, being plastic, yearning for more plastic
Being real is to be shadow to me
Dark looking out towards...knowing.
How can I explain that there is a need inside that there is a desire, which burns what I cannot hide
It is a call, a sending, a beckon for my romancer I expose the flesh and wait for the answer
Ah, to feel the ivory points of love part my skin, from which the dance of immortality would begin
Each impale me with the softness of silk, and then he begins to suckle as if on mother’s milk.
The warmth escapes my body, the vibrations stir form within he moves over me with tenderness, I ask, how could this be sin?
Love me I say to the dream of night and shadow, pierce my heart with your eyes all a glow.
My mind then heard his voice softly proclaim you are my love as the night is in my vein.
With that I let go of my earthly tether and embraced my night lover for now and forever….
He is real to me…even if he can not exist. His form; pale, slim, muscular...haunts my mind
To be with him; close, loving…safe.
To talk to him; not with words…knowing
To exchange with him that which makes me alive for that which is only in my mind
Imagination is his realm; it beckons to me
Reality is harsh…to bright
There is a small line that separates them, yet by a small line one can link them…forever
He will come to me when I have the courage to create that line; when crimson existence magnifies both realms and within the light we will unite in the darkness of ourselves.
I dream, they say too much
I wish they say to things I can not have
I hope they say of times that will not be
Yet, he is there…that is his place
One of hope, wishes and dreams
How can I not go to him? He motions to me with outstretched arms
They say he is not real…he cannot be.
Real…a word that haunts me
Real…a word that is hard and cold
Real…a word in which I am trapped
But he rescues me each night as the ethereal space of fantasy envelops me. I dream with in his strong arms. And at least each night as I sleep in a state close to death, I can finally realize I am truly alive.
Where are the sign posts marking the way
I’ve been told to look for them…yet I never find those described.
Do I really need them? Hasn’t this all been planned?
How simple is it? Or how hard…can it be?
The path has been tread before – did I do this or was it come one before me?
When was it new? I look back…
Behind me the path is gone as it never existed, and before me it’s clear
I stop
The sign posts begin to appear in mass. Beckoning me forward.
All I can do is simply turn around and walk away.
It's all around me
I bring it...it's not mine
but it comes to me...I attract it
That is my gift
Emotional and Spiritual pain are my specialties
Physical pain only helps me focus
Look forward to the ending of it
End me
Take away your pain
Throw me away
Take away my pain
Kill me.
___________________________
By Sedona
I took a long, long walk.
I let the road guide me,
But then I wondered how it would feel to wander free.
I took a long, long walk.
I felt the breeze, the rain, the snow,
But then I wondered how it would feel to grow.
I took a long, long walk.
I let things happen instead of running the show,
But then I wondered what would happen if I let another take control.
I took a long, long walk.
I became tired and lay down to rest for just a bit,
But then I wondered what would happen if I made it all fit.
I took a long, long walk.
I realized that fulfillment came from doing it all.
I no longer wondered. I saw the whole.
By Sedona
I’m not full of wisdom;
I’m full of questions.
Age does not make you smarter or wiser,
It makes you realize how little you know,
How much you want to learn,
And how little time you have left to learn it.
I’m not full of hopes and dreams;
I’m full of despair.
Age brings the knowledge of all you’ve missed –
Opportunities gone forever,
Possibilities never realized.
However, the chance still exists
To make a difference,
To teach the young and the dreamers
To never let their dreams blow away.
_________________________
DAN
SCHMUCKER
August 27, 2004
I have such hopes and dreams.
I long for that companionship that is marked by tenderness of touch and
closeness in Heart and Soul.
I envision places to build and evils to fight.
This realm of castles and dragons has been mine since youth.
Are they all of my making?
God Knows.
I have
such hopes and dreams.
I yearn for nearness as opposed to proximity.
The caresses of Love rather than the brushing with indifference.
The fulfilling of Soul, rather than the filling of time.
I picture a bonding of Heart and Mind that would make the dying world crave the
Essence of it.
Is it fantasy?
Or Creator-spawned dream?
God Knows.
That is
where I need to leave it.
I am determined in this quest.
I do not want to settle for the counterfeit a
For the image.
For the fraud that robs the Heart,
Makes the weeping seem endless,
The trickery to seem acceptable,
And the deterioration unrecognizable.
God Knows.
DAN
SCHMUCKER
12/23/2004
When the day dawns,
And I am not wanting to get out of bed
When I am rummaging through my gradually heightening Senses like a summer garage sale hit by marauders...
When I am plodding toward the coffee maker
I see you in the sunrise.
I see the array of color and awe that holds my eyes
Until I am again reminded
There IS beauty to be embraced.
I see you in the sunrise.
During the day
When the ugliness of the world around me
Invades my space and time,
I see your picture, tucked away for times like this...
You have invaded where the darkness had crept,
And I can breathe in more deeply the goodness that cannot be crushed...
I see you inside my smile.
You roam freely in my heart
And rise when I need you.
And in the midst of backed up traffic,
Snarling faces...
Harried and hurried expressions, I see you.
And I smile, from the inside out.
At the day's end,
When I am tired and wearied by the day's scolding,
At those times I really want to see you.
And then I find you.
I see you in the sunset.
I see you at that time when the Creator
Paints the horizon in color and glorious reminders
There IS beauty.
There IS hope.
There IS promise.
I love you.
______________________________
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
I never ever want to treat you bad,
But I somehow always make you sad,
Dear remember its not what I mean,
I always want you happy as ever and so keen.
When I saw you first , I knew you were for me,
For great was the radiance and sunshine just for me,
There I stopped not looking back or further,
Coz’ there I saw my beautiful one for me altogether.
And when I make you sad I die a thousand times,
Not knowing that my only one has already bled many times,
I took away your peace and calm with my hand,
God why do I do this to you I fail to understand.
Still my beautiful one you come back to me,
For you know I don’t mean all this a bit wee,
You are the music and lyrics of our tale,
You are the sunshine and the nightingale.
I don’t foresee life without being with you,
We are as bonded to each other as fortunate few,
I know you are there thru thick and thin of me,
No matter we are far away across the seven sea.
And here I promise not to make you sad again,
With me you will laugh like flowing champagne,
I am here to love, inspire you and take your care,
Like a gift of God without whom my life would be in despair.
Just know I cry when you cry, I laugh when you laugh,
I get hurt when you get hurt, I breathe when you breathe,
I hold out my hand to you to give and take support,
You are the one and the only one, so don’t ever say me goodbye.
....... Arvy
by Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
A year ago, if we would have crossed each other,
Would you have noticed me, no way…
A year ago, if we would have seen each other,
Would you have talked to me, can’t say…
But now what would you do when you cross me
I wouldn’t say…
But now what would you say when you see me
I wouldn’t say…
Coz’ I know it’s not required now to know
What you would do or say….
Coz’ I know you are there speechless but speaking for me
Like a glory basking so gay…
Here is me standing in front of you just wanting
To tell you I am here to stay…
Coz’ over the seven seas and the skies it seems
There is a path on the bay…
I see you clear as a crystal though I know you not
One day I will talk to you if I may…
I hear you clean as a whistle though I know you not
One day I will hear you, I pray…
A year after, if we would cross each other
Would you notice me, can’t say…
A year after, if we would see each other
Would you talk to me, please say…
…Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
As I walk down the memory lane,
I see you thru the window pane,
Dusky and radiant in the rain,
My steps stop to make me insane,
Lot to say but it makes me lame,
Is the feeling out there the same?
....... Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
Though I saw you never, yet you look a close 'un,
Remembering me with your sweet call made me see fun,
Possessed with a smile so sweet that makes my day,
May all the glory and blessings come your way.
As the love of your heart seeps in to fill my heart,
Scent of you and whiff of your feelings makes u a special one apart,
You are the wish, you are the only one,
Beautiful as always, dear with u its always fun.
You are like a brook flowing innocently down the hills,
Meandering without complains over the pebbles and round the mills,
Shining like silver, singing like a nightingale,
Your fragrance ever so fresh and never ever stale.
For we are the truth for one another,
Which no one can ever dare to smother,
Do remember me whenever you fear to fail.
For I will be right beside you, so u never get frail.
....... Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
Dear dream a dream with me,
Standing in the sunshine of my countryside,
With the chills and the scent in hours wee,
Our love flares up as high as a tide.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Walking down the pebbled path,
Hand held in mine in glee,
Let us embark on our love path.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Crossing the stream and feet bare,
Cool water running thru roots of an old tree,
Showers of love engulf us as I run my fingers thru your flowing hair.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Walking on the grasslands of my countryside,
Shrubs and flowers alive with butterflies and bee,
As we revere the nature, I see you in love with eyes wide.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Crossing the woods with that reedy sound,
Chirping of birds and deer roaming free,
Love scented with jungle pine and mint profound.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Gazing the lofty mountains, the Great Himalayas,
Dressed coated all over with many a pine tree,
Our love flows down them as the mighty Ganges, so pious.
Dear dream a dream with me,
Listen to the chiming of the temple bells,
Ringing in my valley so serene and care free,
As the melody of our love cast upon us magical spells.
Dear dream a dream with me,
As the children run out of the schools,
Merry and happy to the homes in spree,
As them, our love stands out like shining jewels.
Dear dream a dream with me,
In the moonlight of my countryside,
Cool breeze blows across the valley so free,
You there beside me my love, you are my bride.
Dear dream a dream with me,
I hold you in my arms in my countryside,
Showers of love all over like a full sea,
It’s only your love my sweet, which makes me glide.
…Arvy
(Dedicated to NR by Arvy)
River flows,
Down the mountains,
Rushing and gushing,
Singing a melody.
Sunbeam dances,
On the rushing waters,
Gleaming and shining,
Colorful like a rainbow.
Birds descend,
To quench thirst,
Joyful and chirpy,
Singing like a nightingale.
Isn’t it you my love,
Who flows and rush and sing,
Isn’t it you my sweetie,
Who dance and gleam and is colorful.
Isn’t it you my honey,
Who chirps in joy and love?
Yes I know it’s only you, my love,
I can know it from this far,
Waiting for me as I wait for you,
Loving me ever and ever, more and more,
Coz' it can be only you and you.
…Arvy
________________________
Looking at the path below,
Was this the way I was meant to go?
If I had gone the other way,
Would I be wondering the same?
I chose the darker of the paths,
Because it seemed less trampled,
And in the depths of the dark sky,
Lie more secrets to be uncovered.
The other path, the one behind me,
Has long since passed from sight.
No longer can I turn back;
This is my path to walk upon.
~Christin Samuels
_____________
Writings by Reverend Ann-Marie Goldstein
Also visit Tarotime the Monthly Horoscope by Ann-Marie
"Change never did come easily,"
Said the wise woman
To the crawling caterpillar perched
beside her
Just before she went to sleep.
"Why is this so, wise one?"
Asked the curious little creature.
Anxiously seeking answers
To that which she already knew.
"Change never comes easily, " replied
the wise woman
Confident is her speech…
"Because within the basic nature of
change
There is an ending
Of that which had been there before.
Relinquishing the tried and true can be
painful, it's true
Some say even like a death in its' way.
But for every death, there is
reincarnation
A fresh new life, just waiting to be
tried on for size."
And this is where the pain must be
In the stretching of that new skin
And the disrobing of the old
Striking a balance to get the best of
both
But while fully belonging to neither.
"Change, then, never did come easily,"
Softly whispered the wise woman,
As the butterfly soared into the sky
And She settled down to sleep.
"But it is only by this changing
That you are able to fly."
I shed tears of Joy
for although I have nothing
my life is full
I am actually sadly lacking
in many things.
But even so
I shed tears of joy
For I pray for redemption,
and I offer up my soul
indeed, my very existence.
So yes,
tears of joy
flow in copious rivers
for I have nothing
and so my cup runneth over
for when you have nothing
you make room for everything.
Who is the man
that says “Sunday is the Lord’s Day,”
Does this mean
you can kill and maim
on Tuesdays?
Rape and plunder on a Thursday morning?
Who is this man
that can build compartments
for his life
only letting in the Lord
on a Sunday,
never on any other day.
Who is this man
that I created in my image
But who doesn’t wish
to look like me
so he wears masks during the week
but never on a Sunday.
For Sunday, after all,
is the Lord’s day.
________________________________
Poetry
by
Elizabeth Feisst
PURITY OF HEART & MIND
Purity of heart and mind
Worthy aim within to find
Observing carefully what is thought
Feelings to in time be caught
A thought creating future life
Best be one not causing strife
Feelings also best to be
One's of love and harmony
The pure heart is full of grace
A loving, kindly, gentle space
A mind that's clear will ever see
The truth as it should really be
Mind as one creates with ease
Living life becomes a breeze
Adding then a heart of love
And so within is as above
Vesting in this pure aim
Becomes a joy for all to claim
A pure heart, a pure mind
Pending future peaceful kind
Pure intent to gratify
End result will testify
Purity of heart and mind
Worthy aim within to find
Copyright Elizabeth A Feisst 6 August 2005
Please visit the author's site to read more of her work.
EMBRACING THE GOOD
Embracing the good
Let go of the rest
This now has become
The challenging test
The time is now ripe
The mind to renew
For in not doing so
Will see truth askew
The image of God
We are so it seems
The god of us all
The god of our dreams
This image is real
Its time for to be
Manifested as form
The truth for to see
If God equals good
Then why do we wander
We are all there is
No more time to squander
The good is divine
This image is ours
Lets claim for to be
The magic it flowers
Embracing the good
Let go of the rest
This now has become
The challenging test
Copyright Elizabeth A Feisst 4 August 2005
Please visit the author's site to read more of her work.
________________________________
THE PLEDGE
These voices I must lay to rest,
Take this weight from within my breast
I am scared but I’ll take the risk
Because in my life
I want more than this…
Want to be free from the voices inside
The ones that say,
“Wait, no, run and hide.”
Free to be all that I can be
To set new goals, aim always high.
From this day forward, never say die!
I will no longer live in the past
I’ll live each day
As though it were my last.
Carpe ‘Diem! Seize the day
Through the obstacles I’ll make my way
Never taking my eyes from the goal,
I will honor this pledge
Body and soul.
©
Larry Victor
________________________________
Writings by Dame Niamh Costello
It is so sad, my friend, that I
May quest and thirst and only know
The half-drawn shadow of the white Moon on my head
And never know the dog-moon's teeth around my wrists.
Although you are so strong
Although you are so live
The Moon’s blood is in these white bones
And so, I fear, you cannot warm me; even you
Would shrivel cold from my white chill.
I know your arm is the tree's arm
I know you are sap and trunk
I know you are seed and whirling downy wing
And warm with the earth
And so I must leave, leave you, my love,
In the Moon light, in the witch-light.
Spring is déjà vu time.
It is always a surprise
Even though I have lived so many springs, I wonder:
Was I here before?
And I always smile, seeing the returned birds, noticing the red buds fattening, feeling the heat of the sun again.
I smile and almost remember that I stood in the same place before, asking the same question:
Is this the promise fulfilled, the promise God made us mid‑winter?
But I never really remember
How it felt before, and before,
And so it is always a surprise,
Spring is déjà vu time.
If I unpod you, terrified pea,
If I shuck you, tender clam,
If I unhouse you, hermit‑crab;
If I should tear down, stone by stone,
Your castle wall, smash your portcullis,
(having swum your crocodile‑moat)
And storm your gates;
If I should cause to rust all your armor,
Blow up your tank, scale your redoubt,
If I steam‑shovel away the boulders
You heap about you as you cry,” Reach me!"
If I should hundred‑megaton your bunker
And radiate prana enough to atomize your disguise,
Would it cause you concern
That I might harm "the sheltered one,"
Or (worse) laugh? Am I terrible,
Mighty, clawed and fanged, arcane,
Bigger than you?
First I pelted your door with roses,
Petitioned entry, sent missives, left my card,
Invited you to tea. Now,
Thank you kindly, I'll heft my shield and runcible sword
And stump off, defeated by your defenses.
I DON'T CLIMB HAIR.
I heard her song before I saw her,
Gentle music falling through the sweaty air
Slow and soft song picking its way through the people
Boiling and rushing, like rapids, along the tiled subway hall.
The Celtic harp set on her knee, she plucked
Green gentle notes that fell like small green leaves
from the strings, an air
reminiscent of rocks and sea, clouds down upon the shore.
Her brown hair fell
like leaves over her face.
I stooped to put some money in her bag
and said, “I wish I could stay to hear you play.”
Her smile curved upwards, like a crescent moon
Upon the green leaves, rocks and sea,
and followed me, music and moon, all day.
The forest breathes,
Holds its breath;
Light, shade and steamy distance
Advance, retreat.
The prism of perception, memory,
Passes, trailing its garments
Over the mossy floor.
Birds flute, call and answer.
The cold shadows lap at sun-pools.
Is it enough to pass,
Indifferent to the forest,
Hearing only the heart's drum?
And who will have the wisdom
To pierce the layers of folded time,
To part the dream-veils
And gaze on the face of one's desiring?
All, copyright 2002 Niamh Costello
The Warrior's Legacy
by Dame Niamh
I never asked much.
I never got much.
I never knew how much I needed
Or how little.
I craved a father's kindess
I looked for a teacher's patience
I found a peg to hang responsibility on
And gorged myself on fantasy.
I only gave dependence,
Spoke in tongues, was devout in obscurity.
I hid my breasts under sweatshirts
And wept in loneliness on someone's borrowed crucifix.
I pattered with soft open hands on walls we built
To keep me out, or you in; I whispered in foreign languages .
I said if you loved me you wouldn't hurt me,
Not knowing what "love" or "hurt" meant, or "me" either.
Then I went out into the dry wilderness of Zin
And met my lions, my serpents, my thirst and Pharaoh
And studied mutinously. For a while I dwelt
in a monastery on Mount Athos.
Then I was a yogi. One day I recognized my face.
I did graduate work with Sisyphus in rock-rolling,
Mucked out horse-stalls under Hercules' watchful eye.
I vacationed briefly in Valhalla;
A scalper sold me a ticket to the Gotterdammerung.
I worked my way back as a foot soldier, was wounded,
Now I limp like an old centurion.
I'm home on furlough in my beat-up armor,
Dragging my runcible sword,
Proud of my tattered commission, having fought the Minotaur.
They gave me an ear.
I am the hero of my ancient quests;
Let me retire with honors.
-------------------------------
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
I walk with death
On soulless wings,
Everyone thinks he’s making
Me do all these things,
but is it him or just what
I want others to believe?
Various colors swirling around me
Of black, red, and white
All seamed to be blurred together,
Only to be pried from my very sight.
Cries my mind seam to miss
What is happening to me
This is clearly not what I wished.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
Dried
up empty
Tears
I can no longer
Hide my fears,
Pain twirling around
Inside my head,
Making me never
Want to leave
My bed,
This feeling inside
Makes me feel
Already dead.
How many would
Care if I,
Ended it?
It would all
Be so easy
Does anyone care,
Do they really
Give a shit?
We all were
A mask to hide
Our face,
We figure if we
Do it, we hide
Our mistakes.
My tears are
Flowing steadily now,
Tried to stop them,
But
I no longer
Know how.
Afraid to open up
And let others
Inside,
But this pain is getting
To hard to
Hide.
My heart drops
Like a weeping
Willow tree,
But others are
Blind
And cannot see.
Empty promises
Broken dreams
Everyone just looks
At the scheme of
Things.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
Won’t you turn
and face me?
Can’t you hold me
To your heart?
Or are you afraid of
What might follow
Once,
You start?
Though I wish to
Choose death,
Instead of this pointless pain,
My need and love for
All of you remain.
I truly pray that my
Choice will not stain,
My memory?
Please let all that I
Have been
Not be in vain,
Let it bleed into
The earth of your
Believing.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
If you can manage to
Keep your head
When all around you are loosing theirs,
Then you are mightier
Then me.
If you can truth yourself
And everything you are saying,
When everyone else
Doubts you,
Then you hold more power then
I do.
If you can dream,
But not let your
Dreams fool you into
Thinking they are real;
If you can think and
Not make your thoughts
Full of disaster.
If you can bear to hear
The truth in not only
The words you have spoken,
But in others as well
Then you are wiser
Then I.
If you can force yourself
Heart and nerve,
To serve you after they are
Long gone and all hope
Is faded,
Then you are more
Independent then I will
Ever be.
If you can talk with nobles
And never wish to loose
Your common touch,
Then you are better
Then me.
And……
If neither friends or foes
Can hurt or bring you down
No matter what words were?
Spoken,
Then you are stronger
Then I.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
My mind has been split
I have no clue what to do
I stand at a crossroad
my path is split in two
My path is twisted
I face a choice
but I can longer
hear my inner voice
One path is dark
and along the other is light
but I cannot choose wisely
for I have lost all sight
The darkness within
that constantly binds me
Is my demon within
that constantly blinds me
Blindness taking over,
I can no longer see
The stream of voices
Trying to grasp a hold of me.
The choices I face
my blindness within
no matter which path I choose
I will never come back again
around my future
darkness binds
Should I make this choice
with a broken mind?
Either way I choose,
Is another way to hell
No matter what way I choose
I cannot break the spell.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
Somebody save me,
Take me away
From this insanity,
Just set me free.
I’m not the person whom
I use to be,
And neither are
You,
I thought it was true
Now it is over and
I feel so blue.
Empty promises
Broken truths,
Simple feelings of
Being used.
Should I end it now?
And make it clear,
I’m done trying to fight
There is nothing left for me here.
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
Empty promises
Twisted lies
The single word we
Never wish to hear,
“goodbye”
When there is nothing,
But
Darkness left in your life
And you have not a single
Thing to hide
No one understands,
And everyone things your insane
When the meaning of life
Is concealed and
Nothing makes any sense
Its times like these
Everyone else says your
The one to blame.
Won’t you see or
Don’t you care?
Can’t you hear my
Silent cry?
"Despite my faults, will I be forgiven? Please tell me……"
Jen Wirth (aka Lily)
To get you back
I’d do almost anything,
Kill the pain
That is causing me to go insane.
Darkness takes over the
Light,
I no longer know what
Is wrong or right.
The animal we all have inside
Is breaking free
No longer wanting to hide.
I can only contain him
So much more
He has so much in store
For me,
I cannot slip away from this intently.
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