The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.
Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.
This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.
The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.
A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.
Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.
The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.
At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.
I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.
The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.
Authored by Chuck Keys
It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.
There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically
It wasn't here or there and it was.
With no distinction,
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.
It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.
In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.
The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."
Differences exist for differences,
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.
Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam
Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind
I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be
For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home
So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness
Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.
The flower opens its chalice
Of tender petals to the sun
Pleasant object of the bee's fun
Making sweet honey in this bliss
Each to know what life brings, a gift.
The lily fears not the outcome
When the time comes to open
And offer the world its essence
It only knows it to be a good one
Pleased even when it is plucked out.
The rose will not open until
It is encircled in sunshine warmth
It dances in the light, a force
Felt to its core, trusting its will
To be a delight, its reason to live.
In the wet sand
Footprints of gulls, and man
Disappear in the tidal dance
In the red dust
Feet of man, and horses
Up in canyons, leave no trace of
In the garden
Of such delightful scents
In spring and summer by winter
Of human life
Throughout world's history
However, are reported upon its
Of wins and woes
Like hand prints upon walls
Can't be erased, for their foothold
this is true;
you and I
who was I,
and now this crutch
just past mine age,
for I have passed on knowledge;
"I will discover grace"
her soft kiss
letting me in
< Cascading lakes and streams
The loon stands out it seems
Minnesota's state bird
I know it must sound absurd
Adopted in nineteen sixty one
Wails and yodels heard under the sun
Black and white bearing red eyes
Wingspans five feet can make one cry
Body lengths up to three feet
Yet clumsy on lands and moss peat
They are high speed flyers
And great underwater divers
They can dive up to ninety feet
In pursuit of fish they want to eat
They are even on our license plates
An critical habitat drawn on metal slates
Twelve thousand of these unique birds
God that has to be a lot of turds
But for now I'll enjoy it's captured views
Of this beautiful loon and it's most colorful hues
Written By Katherine Stella
Entry For Mini - Blog Beautiful Bird Contest
By Constance ~ A Rambling Poet
A burst of white light
gamma rays, overbearing
a flash of brilliance
burns through to my soul
everything is like hell
the world starts to melt
in the blink of an eye
just the cold blackness
I don't care if I am not again
what I once was, for at this moment
I am greater now
than ever before
I took the path between
teetering, tight roping walking
right up to my right
divined in my unholy state
I thought I told you
I am your king
still you sit there, hesitating
I know you hate me
what does that mean?
I hate just about everything
still I'm chosen
I did not wish before
now bow down to me
refuse me no more
for I shall always be your demon
until you accept me as your King.
I don't even know you
though you say we used to be
best of friends, you and me
the day you ditched me
I remember now
exactly how it played out
back when we were just tiny things
even back then I still was King
you thought me stupid
just a ruse
I would laugh inside, you see?
not one of you single, mean people
ever even knew me
in a world, mostly seen to me
that is why only I can be your true King
and bring forth a new source
of light everlasting.
As two worlds collide slowly aligned
one wrapped in shadows
one bathed in white
evils swirling in the clouds above
I'll always be the king you love
to hate or despise as in your blood
I thought I told you, I am the one
I am the way, the way out shall be shown
breathe in my spirit as it carries you away
breathe in my faith it shall carry your empty space
and deposit you gently on a cloud just enough
higher than you've ever dreamed of
for I am king now, and your in my hell
your in my imagination, I'll just never tell
you'll feel as though dreaming, you'll feel now
if you try and see
you were always found the most
shared in the light cast upon me
the last bright star in heaven.
Denounce my name, if you may
One year later, still not afraid
A black sheep, a darkened spade
That's just life, I'm not right
I'm in the wrong, follow along
Like a piper, I'll pitch a song
Mesmerized, the weak wills sing
I thought he told you, he's still our king.
Page after page
My nose in a book
I read intently
As the words
In my mind
With one look.
Imagination runs wild,
There is nothing
Like the thrill,
Like a roller coaster
Giving you chills.
It’s a rainbow
If you will.
Get on it,
And feel the inclination
You’ve had enough.
But is it ever?
Once you start
It’s too tough
To get off
To begin with.
You are filled
And with pride.
Reading takes you
to the top,
To the power
Knowledge is power,
A roller coaster
That never stops.
Earth is what we become and makes us whole.
Air is the first and last thing we breathe in.
Fire is what consumes us and eats our sin.
Water cleanses us, mind, body and soul.
Spirit is in us all and makes us who we are.
Without these we would fall oh so far.
Invite them into our sacred circle and pay tribute.
As we are condemned, we are resolute.
We love fiercely and fight for our freedom.
Ignorance breeds fear and unwisdom.
Thank them for gracing us with their presence.
While we give our thanks and recompense.
Exhilarated and feeling like a newborn child,
Wow this circle's "magic" is wild.
How did you feel when you woke? Were you frightened or lonely, or was your heart broke?
Do you feel alone or sometimes afraid? Is it clear that your life’s not meeting the grade?
Do you feel uncomfortable in your own skin? Do you feel that you’re losing, but just want
Are you having remorse about what could have been? If so, then it’s time to grab paper and
Jot some things down you’d like to achieve. Then read them each day and start to believe.
We cannot go back and change the past! Standing still today, just won’t last.
So get ready, prepare, and take care of your needs. It’s time to firmly plant His seeds.
Start with yourself and the rest will follow. I know right now it’s hard to swallow.
Be gentle and patient, for there is no doubt, you’ve been hurting so long, both inside and
If you know in your heart that something’s askew, you must be willing and ready to start anew!
There’s help for you along the way. You’ll receive it for sure, so start to pray.
Dear God, Please show me where to start. To You, I know I must open my heart.
So say each day, “Thy Will Be Done”, and you’ll see it, I’m sure, but just don’t run.
Be open and willing to hear and see, all that He is calling you to be.
Follow His signs and stay on the road, and when you ask He’ll help bear the load.
Don’t bring excess baggage for this trip. Keep it simple, you see or you just might slip.
You need to remember to stay on track. Once you start, hold nothing back.
For the new road you find is the only way. You’ll get there soon, if you just don’t stray.
Now is the time for discipline and prayer. You’ll start to believe you’re in His care.
As you practice and try to do the right things, you’ll be eager to see what the next day
Your life will be flooded with joy and gladness, and you’ll know he’s there in times of
Life is still life, but just stop and think. Nothing is solved by making a stink!
So put all your worries in God’s hands today! There’s no reason to keep them, let go and
I know that miracles do come true. Have faith and His promises will be given to you.
©October 17, 2006
Ain't a word, you said.
but it takes a daring gust
for things start to be.
envision harmony and mental clarity
focus on a journey of possibility
Meditate on transformation and
awareness of inner state
peace and healing
instruct your mind
to redirect the lost and struggling inner voice
Where you can’t see the wood for the trees
under your nose is the path of freedom
Put aside perceived struggles
revitalize, relax, respond
to body, mind, heart and spirit
Intuition, introspection and spiritual renewal
bring about personal healing and
Stillness of mind – concentration
Thoughts of the subconcious and subliminal
beyond all negativity
away from all interuption
To allow time for self communication and
expression of inner self
Senses – awareness of scent, sight, sound, taste and touch
Healing hands of the medical profession or alternative therapy
ambiance, temperature, oils, music, sounds and
sights of nature or universe
realisation comes in various form and shape
causing us to feel life in fullest expression
Connecting – whispers of wind
radiating everpresent warmth of sun
a blanket of love and light comforts consoles over and through the cosmos
rippling infinately through infinity outwards, onwards
connecting right back into where we are at right now
unmoved unchanged and as we were
Wise – responsible courageous allowed to let go of need to be judgemental or
let go of controlling enable trust wisdom and humility
intelligence of knowing others
wisdom of knowing self
strength in mastering others
power to master oneself
Energy -breath, force, spirit, soul, God, universe –
whatever – doesn’t matter how you refer to it on personal level
energy, balance, light, sound, vibration, peace
centered self – stillness – silent – eternal –
to have enough is a richness in itself
accept appreciate and acknowledge oneself
Together the Owl and the PusyCat were married
Then again sailed out over the deep blue seas
Searching forever for the great Land of Nod,
To the place where they could find true peace.
True peace, true peace… Where they could find true peace.
The love that twined forever within their hearts
They sought throughout all the wonderous lands
Going to the place where they would live in peace,
A place where true peace, rules and lives in the hearts of the land.
The land, the land… Where true peace lives in the heart of the land.
Alas, the love of the heart, though truly not easy to find…
Is easier to find than the love of peace, found throughout the land.
So it’s said they will continue to sail, until that day comes true,
And when they land for the final time, will be up to me and you.
Me and you, me and you… That day will be up to me and you.
Magniloquent words of
an empurpled writer.
Where lofty, yet showily expressed
words make details brighter.
Concise, rhetorically composed
words made solely for an effect.
Causing pithy comments to draw
a picture, for readers to connect.
The complexion and pigment of colorful
words then meld into a spectral light.
Blended with the authors passion
for the topic, causing both to ignite.
Smooth white sands
blow across the dune
Distant notes from a
banjo floats into a tune.
Ancient ironweed graces
the desert with vibrant color
As sunset beckons for twilight
to be evenings romantic caller.
Beach peas and daisies grow
between cliffs of living stone
Stand embellished fig trees
on seeded winds were flown.
Written with a shimmer of color
floating on an iridescent feather.
Titillates the plateau of ones senses
on aromatic breezes of white heather.
first three have definitions to words in each stanza
center three stanza's and last are examples of
expression relative to the first three.
Carole Cookie Arnold
I walk a mile to see the self in me that I believe to be,
I knew the road I choose to lay my head to sleep is called my home,
times in need I could barely see that in myself I will set free,
the act that held me down, something about me I could not see,
I lived a life when I decide that day I said that I don't care,
so young, so bright, I dim my light, traumatized for me to share,
love me please regardless of what you heard and what you have seen,
friends say that I'm only human, yes you're right, a human but who am I being?
My life will move in the direction I choose,
this I know I have always been taught
that I choose to be a winner or lose,
its entirely up to me its all in my thoughts.
This poem is a farewell piece of advice to a group of students I have taught over the last four years. I do
hope they find the metaphor meaningful and believe that they are the "architects of their own future."
Spread before you is a canvas of hope and opportunity
Waiting to be painted with strokes of what you are and can be
Waiting to be filled with colours that define you and the life you live
Waiting to be stamped with the personality that only you can give
To the portrait of your life, by itself a work of art
A work which, on this day, with vigour you will start
Spread before you is a canvas of vision and desire
Waiting to be sketched with shades of passion and fire
Waiting to be decorated with a story and theme
Waiting to be etched with ambition that is now just a dream
Of a picture whose tone, texture and style
Would have made this work worth all the while
Spread before you is a canvas, empty, yet full of space
Waiting to be stroked with your wit, charm and grace
Waiting to be brushed with strokes daring, vivid and bold
Waiting to be painted with a story that can be told
Of a life whose essence is one of sublime beauty
Of a person who lived his life and did his duty
Of a person who lived life the way it should be
Of a complete canvas that will reflect many a memory.
I do not know?
[beforehand i just want to let you know that i wrote this in honor of November 17th. which is
To Write Love On Her Arms Day. im hoping to come up with a better one before than. but i
still hope you enjoy this quickly-wrote one(: ]
this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about my struggle,
my fall downs,
&& all the breakdowns.
this is about every wound i placed upon my body.
over 60 self inflicted wounds,
that as my story went on they began to heal.
i stoped writing "give up"
i began to write love on my arms<3
this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about my past.
how it haunted me for years,
&& how im still running from some of it.
this is how i went from a hood rat,
to me actually caring about myself.
i began to write love on my arms<3
this is about me.
this is my story.
it is about how i learned to keep the bottle off of my nightstand.
i dont need liquor running through my veins 24/7.
i started to look at life through sober eyes.
i began to write love on my arms<3
&& as i wrote this day after day, i saw that i was loved.
i found comfort in better things then pills, liquor, && razorblades.
&& even though i am still in healing,
my story is not over.
&& it will never be.
i still write love on my arms<3
YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE
You’re the weak one, you’re a bully. The weak one is definitely
The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.
So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.
Your weakness began on your first bullying day.
Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.
I actually feel a little sorry for you.
Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.
Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate.
Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?
Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect,
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.
< amidst thy shell's core
healing of ones soul begins
with ......... wholesome cleansing
I think, therefore I am,
And of what I think
Becomes me out of thought,
Momentarily, memories make
More mad moments of me,
Be it reality of fantasy?
Physical or Metaphysical?
My paradox is my persona
Brain fires random impulses
From dead end to dead end,
Unless thought becomes abnormal,
There alone lies the hidden bridge,
Succumb to human limitations
Yet accept thought as immortal,
A constantly pondering organ
Ensuring unfinished business
Thus, ensuring eternal life
Through verse and voice,
lascivious pursuit of knowledge,
And expeditious conversations,
Decreasing the prudent choices,
Increasing importance of mankind,
Show my brother to know myself,
Teach I, personal and universal
Haunting descendants of yesterday
With chains formed out of intellect,
Linking type writers and computers,
segregated and integrated minds,
and radio to television, all is all,
One is all, all is one, we are all one,
Thus ancestors never die
Nor do children grow old
Pictures become mirrors,
mirrors become gateways,
and gateways become infinite,
Appearing in places of proximity
to those in need of certain lessons,
As they share the experience,
Creating the desired domino effect
amongst both old and young
Groans of disappointment echo
for those who fail to evolve
and those with no desire to do so,
Harrowing screams of spirits
who embrace the role of educators,
Wounded souls they soon become
as civilization slowly falls to failure
by ignoring text, dreams, and elders
Still, new souls are born
as the dying discover the lesson,
Becoming burdened by brilliance,
Brilliance that was never shared,
Yet the lesson must be learned
by the living loved ones,
As I listen for the first time,
Understanding noise of the night
The spirits speak slowly,
The world willingly whispers,
I am you, you are me,
We are I and I am we,
Repeating the words nightly,
Among other lessons of life,
Thinking of them, as we live,
We can say, they are us,
And for a moment, I am ghost.
i cannot count enough stars
to tell how many shine in your eyes
nor can i gather into one
the brilliance of the sun
that your warmth brings
though the sun and stars pass
beyond and beyond
all things that last
i'll meet you in that discovery
there across the wind
rides my silly pride
at times a sturdy arrow
at times a butterfly
how often i chose to follow
the path of the sturdy arrow
its landing was hard to find
however, when i chose to try
the path of the butterfly
never, was i too far behind
like the raven
who taps taps upon
your chamber door
do not fret my Virginia
for it's my shadow
moving across the floor
this is what I'm telling you my darlin
and nothing more
I still call your name
come to me virginia
come hear the tap tap
upon your chamber door
for only you my love
I surrender and never more
wind howls in blanket snows
here I stand so all alone
broken hearted and misconstrued
my Virginia who lies under stars and moon
just a tap tap upon your chambers door
tis I and nothing more
tales of hidas truth
blackbird sings harps cords
just like the tap tap upon your chambers door
my sweet Virgina whom I adore
for there'll be love waiting and nothing more
as I lay right next to you in this tomb
I counted only seven who have even knew
the times of this raven who
tapped tapped upon your chambers door
twas only I and will be never more
Tribute To Edgar Allen Poe
And His Young Bride Virginia
Also To His Poem The Raven
We only have one life
this is not a rehearsal
live your life
don't waste it
your's or others
love one another
life is for living
be nice to others
when they have gone
we cannot change things
change them now
it's not to late
love one another
it's easier than you think.
Tiny circles form
On the edge of leaves sit
By God to provide moisture
To small living things
( I left )
) you (
( my )
(note) O oooo
( on )
) a (
( for )
) you (
( to )
(read) O oooo
( ere )
) the (
The ram died high
On the snow covered
Mountain, when the thaw
Of spring came, it's
The melting snow
The waters flow
Brings death in grip
The less germs
(This is also a metaphor for sin. The farther we stay away from it the cleaner we stay. Of
course, we can repent but the results lingers.)
The things you want...
seem so distant and impossible.
As if taunted by the earth...
dreams come hard and few.
Oh, I wish I knew who is true...
is it Me or is it You ???
Friends one day ,then gone away...
these selfish games they play.
Twisting our hopes and emotions as a whip...
to be pulled in and sunk like a ship.
My hope is not for this worlds leaven...
but a calm pearly heaven !
Where justice is supreme...
and we shall find our dreams.