Barriers

Ever so alone in the world
you wail
years into days,
days on end a blur.

Time to dig the earth
find the roots of torment
as people weave within,
rattle my soul.

How does one understand truth? Truth was set in stone long ago. The greatest of commands, to love. Peace of mind blooms with watered intentions of serving others. Do not murder. Do not plant false lies. Do not appear as love with malice for others in your heart. Find your sixth sense and do not be fooled easily.

Often when we are hurt, our initial reaction is retaliation. The anger burns hot inside. Emotional self-discipline circumvents such reactions. I consider myself in-training. To find strength a cure.

Being honest but peaceful and forgiving paves a long road home with hope. Sometimes walking away, when possible, is best. Remembering to breathe.

Courage to exit and enter the world.

Found in the Lost Pile of Civility

The year 2018 is locked away. The key, fiery hot, so as not to entice people to hold on. Look back.

I look forward to 2019. My prayer focuses on the war of words, which has reached a feverish pitch. I honestly hope people’s superiority complexes does not burn down houses; leave room to erect new powers and diminish freedoms.

I smell the fires burning and there is little relief. In our condemnation, humanity in one fell swoop, dresses outlandish lies with mixed-up truths.

Only the tree is honest.

Seems to me
as we slowly decline,
we beat around the bush,
contemplate how to survive.
Generations realize this drift,
on a sail-less boat,
the cloth wrapped around our bleeding hearts,
words confessed on bended knees,
misses the sliver in private eyes.

Same old, same old story.
The beginning is the end.
The terror in other’s minds now belongs to us.
Realize hungry is, as was,
and nothing eaten ever satisfies.

Measure our words against ourselves
need I stand upon a soapbox,
add my rhetorict to humanity’s misery?
As ash buries the smoldering coals
are we aware we are wandering,
found among the lost pile of civility?

The Ark Of Sanity

A reason to read (and reread) WP. If i needed a reason. Hell no, no need for reason when reading Ray. Just read.

The Ark Of Sanity

http://raynotbradbury.com/2018/11/09/the-ark-of-sanity/
— Read on raynotbradbury.com/2018/11/09/the-ark-of-sanity/

Vidur has a new poem!!

Here is another Vidur drop-dead gorgeous poem that is ethereal to my mind… he takes you on a journey of flight. And as painful his words to read, they are equally beautiful ✍🏼❤️ Love as a token, worn raw and bled on paper. I like, no love, this poem very, very much!! It is a pleasure to share it with you… if you are unfamiliar with Vidur Sahdev, you are missing a gem in the poem quarry.

When the heart aches

I open my palm,
to let you go,

your name,
you didn’t find,

in the
lines engraved,

you believe
in the written,

i believe
in the felt,” … go check out the rest of the poem. Soon!

Vidur’s poems are philosophical. Written in few words to share universal truths. They calm your heart and mind as a fresh ocean breeze. A few poems are known to shake you free! 🕊🎶

personal musings unleashed…

Altered Peace

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.

I found a new place to contemplate, meditate, evaluate and prescribe healing into my life. Isn’t it breathtakingly beautiful?

Here is my latest blast from my soul…

Learn to take the heart ache and make love soar… not for fame or fortune. Rather, love is more precious than gold. It mends differences and brings the world a peace unlike any other emotion.

Even those who purport not to have sold their soul have become slaves. Wisdom rarely prevails and minds change with every wind direction.

It is as if…

Where to start? It is as if my life is being lived in one day… with no way to slow down. Juggling between need-to-do and want-to-do and compromising. All this beauty is descending upon my head in rocket speed… the town i have moved to is bursting at the seems with poetry and dance.

Harvard MA was home to the Alcott’s and other Transcendentalists who started a Utopian Society at Fruitlands. I am in love with the philosophy.

All matters of life are to be sipped here.

I am gulping… famished from years of neglect. I am bathing in this community and coming alive.

To be continued…

Even the air… intoxicating!

Me Mock Myself!

My! i love this…

I have Vidur’s book of poems… go find a copy. Read it when your stressed and unsure of your surroundings. Let his gentle voice calm your nerves.

Thanks Vidur! ❤️❤️❤️

— Read on vidursahdev.wordpress.com/2018/08/04/me-mock-myself/

She’s leaving home

To my beautiful daughters Emily and Anna. Who i hold forever in thought.

the basket propped
the counter freshly wiped
a tear stained our eyes

miles apart
though we stand face-to-face
time rips out our hearts

words fly over my head
she cuts through my skin
finds freedom to swim

stretching her arms
songs chime from the yard
and freshly baked bread fills the air

waves come and go
as she dances to and fro
so i relunctantly sway

sway under the moon
watch the newly risen sun
and worship the ground she once stood upon