Tag: mental well-being

dreams so wrong

never thought of wishes bad memories is all when words carved of wood petrified stone perched on oak branches stop the dangling swing push her legs, pumping of sprouted wing the sun made all the difference in a light rest lying in a dark tomb of books she turned the pages gently, torn worn of…

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personal musings unleashed…

Call me mad, crazy, or whatever you like… but i have a theory. Being out in the greater world, beyond social media, i witness polite calmness. People caring for each other. Yesterday morning I hiked with the Boxborough Birders and witnessed a phenomenon i thought was all but disappeared. The ocean wave phenomenon where natural…

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cheating…

so i was tagged to participate in a 3-day lyrics challenge and thank you to Philosophy Through Photography for inviting. i am cheating on this challenge because i am posting day two, before day one is over. my reasoning is that i may not be here tomorrow… well, i maybe here on earth… but absent…

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phoenix street

wrote it now own the words “stinging nettles” popcorn, chips no escape writhing grapes glowing flames pardon me hold on wash away this grin funny spill easy swipe to wipe pain away hoping still you catch a wave to ride reach high brave sky then crash… burn hotter smoke longer grow stronger pardon me i…

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storm to safety

winding up to blow over everyone and everything that stands in my way… i sense no path -forward or backward isolated in a forest with overgrown fears closing in surrounding my feet i change my mind -escape and morph into another hiding once more an invisible ticket expired and worn barely readable the conductor puts…

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personal musings unleashed…

i am spending a significant portion of my morning on social media because, well, i have been stimulated. Which basically means my brain is cooking up ideas and piling up future projects, while a myriad of unfinished projects patiently weep… waiting for me. “Off on another excursion, yet again! Are you?” my conscious is seething.…

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this is my opinion…

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived. I read this article… Is this our world? Here is my heart reaction, in words. This is equally tragic as 9/11. The voices of those dead in Chicago cry out for us to take action. How do we react? We dissect each tragedy and look…

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