Too many
times
I walked down
that road
Too many
signs
said “lighten
your load”
Too many
faces
came out of
the rain
Too many
phrases
I couldn’t
explain
(now)
Too many
voices
attract
and repel
Too many
choices
heaven
or hell
Too many
warnings
in search
of an ear
Too many
mornings
in love
with my fear
Too many
chances
to hide
from the change
Too many
off ramps
that lead
— to more pain
(Site Of The Main Point: September, 2024)
Note 16.
61 leaves
Bright orange leafs dance,
Seasons changing, nature's art,
Late night drives, love's warmth.
61's winding,
Whispers of memories past,
Shared moments now lost.
Fall's hues embrace us,
As bittersweet sorrow lingers,
Love's touch now distant.
Yet, in tender dreams,
Leafs on trees and love unfold,
Moments once cherished
This Thanksgiving, I’m thankful to be alive.
I have spent most of my life waiting to die.
Every year, I’m not sure if I’ll survive,
But somehow, with a little luck, I scrape by.
I’ve purposely lost weight to keep myself thinner,
Hoping to keep myself from being frozen.
It has worked, because I haven’t become dinner.
I’ve been lucky enough to never have been chosen.
Cry to the Lord with a real passion
make sure you mean it by heart
believe in prayer that God hears
for if you don't no point to start
Prayer is a spiritual mystery
how God hears you in heaven
no matter where you're on earth
oh Lord hear me before it's eleven
In one's heart feeling overwhelmed
making loud cries to our heavenly father
knowing the certainty of God's love
makes one assured to come and gather
The psalmist asks to be lead
to a mighty towering rock
where their safety is assured
this is for all of God's flock
Lord help me, answer my prayer
thanks and praise goes to you
for your knowledge that's so divine
blessed be your name everlastingly true
(Psalm 61:1-2 (NLT)
"O God listen to my cry! Hear my prayer! From the ends of the earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety.")
The undersides of school chairs
all gooey with gum
We thought it such fun
back in sixty-one
In sixty-two we tore fruit loops
from the backs of girls' shirts
The innocent way
we first learned to flirt
In sixty-three we all wore
skin-tight 'H.I.S.' pants
That ripped near your bulges
when you started to dance
Memories glorious
like your first cigarette
Or a long drawn-out kiss
with that gorgeous brunette
Maintaining his distance,
Dylan felt safe
A musical drifter
not born for one place
His words once released,
to live on their own
The road calling windward
—far from his home
(Villanova Pennsylvania: August, 2020)
We go in deep
Into waking, dreaming & deep sleep
Recognising singularity
Astonished at duality
When bliss does us smother
Who is the other?
We thus contemplate
God being in all states
What is the source of awareness
Where resides memory in consciousness
Between the differentiated states of being
Or in the void of cessation of breath flowing
Or the one becoming two to climax in union
Let the pause of eternity be God meditation
Slipping gently from state of waking to dreaming
Where falls the tumbler if awareness be unblinking
Likewise who is the mover, the cogniser in the void
Which aspect is disconcerted whilst yet overjoyed
The web of maya having layers enticing stagnation
Each revelation we behold yet bound in limitation
When the cogniser of experience himself disappears
No questions remain as Shiva Himself appears!
10-August-2020
There is a desperate bent in Men who lose,
A silent howl that seeks the lie to prove,
That She Loved Him, who otherwise did choose,
And shunned him! Seek with teaspoon seas to move,
And you, my friend, my silent fool, my boy
Will suffer for your faith, for ‘twas ill-placed.
Why can you not believe? Why must you toy
With fantasies? The calms with which you’re graced
Must be your roadstead now – your sails repair!
Pound in the caulk! Reseat the mast and cast
Anchor! From storms rest, now the way is fair!
From hopes to ropes and rigging! Sail on past!
She loved well as she could, but did not want
You! Fool! Let past be passed, hopes no more taunt!
Prayer poem ..
my call out 61
I who in long hour ..
low down in despair
I who need repair
And confidence
I who mourn
In struggle
I who tremble
Who is lost
I who hurt
And in pain
I who cry
For hope
I who is rejected
And failed
I who pray
For redemption
On my knees
For rescue ..
Show your greatness in my sky
Save me with your might my God
O Lord lead me
Don't pass me by
Give me sanctuary
O my Shepherd
Cast the dust away
Forgive my disobedience
Let me live little longer
Small and weak
I am now
Let me not be scared
Lead me Lord
Touch me Lord
Take me back with
Joy, grace and glad
My psalm of 61
all together,
clasp
hands
round and
round
dancing,
enjoying
life
at pace,
communing
as one
in this race....
of life
Part 2 inspired bythe Archers theme clip
You were my joy
You were my pain.
My greatest victory
My worst vain.
My blessed Love,
My Rue Torment.
The Love of my Life
The Soul of Malcontent.
Pure and Sweet.
Rude and Kind.
Strong and Weak.
Angry and Blind.
Snake of schemes.
Fox of fraudulent.
Wolf of wily.
Cat of craft.
Oh, coveted one.
Oh, cruel creature.
Free me from your grasp.
My treacherous teacher.
My Beautiful Chaos.
Today I woke up
And realized that I was 61 years’ old
Felt that I had lived
And almost died
So many times
I have challenged life
And faced my fate
And yet
Through it all
I am still here
I am still here
And that means something
Something to me
And something to the universe
Yes, I am still alive
And kicking
And nothing is stopping me
Yet still I wonder
Still I wonder
What does it all mean?
colorful garden
birds sip honeysuckle stems -
a tea monger’s cart
winter sun
shines on snow drift
deep footprints
~~~
freezing rain
upon the sidewalk
slippery slopes
~~~
frozen ice
upon the pond
skating rink
~~~
14/02/16
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