Experiences shape us and when we discover the road we traverse is endless, never the end result, we remain forever changed. A malleable spirit is always ready to grow in grace and love. This is our true humanity, to be willing to forgive and move-on. Stay true and your beauty will shine! Love J💛✨
like being confined
define the keys
and release me.
walk this dangerous place
we remain confused.
(10/2/2017 diary entry. I much like being confined to the words that define but so be it if the keys release me to a strange and dangerous place. I may rebel! Regardless the truth, I remain confused.)
I thought no one would ever ask.
“Oh, you didn’t ask.” Sigh. “Regardless, I will tell you. I need to talk to someone, stuck in my thoughts all night, in dreams and visions.”
The past 9 years have been a struggle. I have wrestled with who I am. Pondering the why questions we all ask and struggle to understand
Dying. Is that what we have been doing? All these things piling on top of us, burdens to carry, burying us alive.
Screaming. Albeit silent screams.
What if I take this cloak off and try on a new cape? I am not sure I know which one to wear today, but one thing rings true, I must learn to fly. I must. I must be someone’s hero today. So must you.
I have been away so long, I forgot what it was like to wake up daily, excited I had churned some words around in my head. And until I set the coffee cup down, and wrote them all on paper, and sent them on their way, I forgot what it was like to share this life out loud.
I am just a little sad that I have been away so long.
I am just a little sad I may be away for even longer.
I am just a little sad.
I have two more classes to go before I graduate. The prospects of searching for a job, being away from my writing desk, even more than I am already away, is frightening. I am at a loss to think I will eventually leave behind a chair, space void of all thought. To think I will be alive, without all the people who have found my voice, leaves me just a little confused. You heard me and listened. And bothered to let me know you exist too.
And now it becomes just a little bit lost to life.
Our brain toils
one can hope
we can hunger for truth
make peace with ourselves,
as people being selfish.
I understand some see Gandhi or Mandela, even MLK as being selfless. Mother Theresa. Or were they? They labored hard, demonstrated how selfish we are.
If time could stand still a bit, we all took a breath, ….
Great, it is Labor Day (in America) which means we can rest and recoup and take a breather… Or maybe not.
I pray some day,
we all see the need,
a need for nothing more
than the air we breath,
on Labor Day.
“In the year 2025, the best men don’t run for president, they run for their lives. . . .”
― Stephen King,
Just some thoughts because a Utopian Society has never worked. Jeanne
Becoming an avid traveler, going places I once only dreamed of, and doing it alone, has taught me many valuable things about myself but one stands out larger than all the others: I do best as a creature of habit. I am all out-of-sorts and finding it difficult to get back into a writing routine. What to do? Oh! what to do?
Well, two new excursions are booked. Oh bother! This is one lesson not learned very well but the excitement of driving 1000 miles one way to see my daughter in Boston (Scituate MA) is, well, all worth it. So I wait diligently for autumn colors and the wind in my hair!
As for writing, perhaps a few days will warrant something of value. If not, I am cool with that just as long as the view before me keeps on changing. Next up, U2 in Indianapolis.
Disappointed by a desire to evaporate, pray give me strength to stand against a false self forced on by others.
“Who do you see?” she who exists in a pool of rippling waves, sensing her life over. “I see failure,” the mirror retorts. She dips her finger to find an icy portrait bound by time.
“Still try dear friend,” a small voice quivers. “Find a piece of you to push through the depressed madness, the canned identity.”
Self-doubt relationships play in reality and fantasy. Ego stands disappointed by self-defeat, a desire to evaporate. Is anyone alive?
Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived.
(I think.) We all like to believe we are the be-all to end-all solution to the adverse we face. Complex problems are produced by simple acts gone awry. Well meaning people get tangled in their desires that eventually overtake all soundness of mind. We become corrupt in thought not out of kindness but selfishness. I think I stand in such a bubble.
My bubble bumps my neighbor’s bubble and on and on the bubbles bump. In time the bubbles burst and the earth is covered in a sticky film that does not wash away easily. It takes effort to see clearly.
The reflection that digs into my soul has both a hatchet and a pick. A hatchet to chop off major faults and a pick to clear the crevices. What is left of a person who undergoes such surgery?
Many find religion compensates for the faults of man. Those who object I ask, would you die for another? Most likely yes. Would you die for a stranger? Possibly. For evil of others? Probably not.
What drives a person to hang for wrong deeds that are not their own? Was Jesus a narcissist? A delusional lunatic? In the minds of some yes. So those who have faith, the affect of such love, to believe they are forgiven, not forsaken to their own hands, rest easy. You too may be ridiculed, beaten in the market of ideas but steadfastness is a peculiar trait.
“Well, then, I will tell you. Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne, and I myself have founded great empires; but on what did these creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions would die for Him.”
— Napoleon Bonoparte
World leaders such as Bonoparte are frowned upon in the “modern” age. Jesus is too. Or anyone who subscribes to such a philosophy. So the world waits until every knee surrenders to what? If not Napoleon or Jesus, who?
Look around. Is this world any more peaceful. Do platitudes of “Be happy” make us so? Will we follow anyone who promises peace? Are we really still so gullible?
1 Thessalonians 5:3 “While people are saying, ‘Peace and security,’ destruction will come upon them suddenly, like labor pains on a pregnant woman, and they will not escape.”
What of the little wars within ourselves? Are these not battles we should wage? I profess they are worthy! Inner battles given to circumspect.
Those who choose to end their inner battle we fight for their freedom to end life? Why is life not respected? Is pain only fought with the sword? Where are we in their hour of need?
“It is a higher glory still to stay war itself with a word, than to slay men with the sword,” –St Augustine
To be continued…
Love the poem that seduces, draws you in with an immediate connection. Stop!
A poem to stop and pause. Words that breathe life and suck marrow. To turn, burn the other side, the unseen now bright and glaring.
You swore secrecy, temptation by a flicker. A lingering finger traces backward and stops midstream. This passion stored ignites once more.
Browse and ponder the others. At first glance they bore and bother but dig deeper. Solve the riddle.
Heading to Santa Fe
to study -poetry
in the dirt, sky and man
reading V. Woolf -Atwood
wondering if anything lies within me
this extracted life in 2-dimensions
yes -still perplexed
fear of living
her husband calls her critics
-hmmph, he shuts a voice down
while she belittles
Rossetti, Mansfield & Browning.
while she may have
a place to complain
her critics stand shoulder-to-shoulder
on their ladders
today is another day
just -let it all out
is stronger than all others.
Happy to spend July 28-August 5 with Gina Franco and a class of peers looking to refine who we are as writers.
Just -yes just another day to be.