Even to myself I avoid to show
My begging for all kinds of troubles to go
Far away, so far where they’d never be seen
Then I’d feel relieved, on your sill I’d lean
Looking at your garden and the green field
On a clear day when the Coombe Hill
Becomes visible, maybe we’ll have a stroll
And as usual, a drizzling rain would fall
On our way back, we return soaking wet
And the sun peeks out just before it sets
Switch the telly on, what’s the news they tell
Nothing good for today, and tomorrow as well
So we’re off to the garden, to smell the flowers
Under the spell of the magic hours..
VOTES VERSUS MONEY
(SIX HAIKU REFLECTIONS)
Our minority,
Is as poor as poor is:
Theirs are just as rich
Don’t beg me money.
Know that my vote is priceless:-
Lives lost getting it:-
Thus beg for my vote,
In winning democracy:
Money can’t buy it:-
Our minority
Will continue to support
Getting out the vote.
Begging for the vote,
Will get more support than the
Begging for money.
Our democracy
Can’t be purchased with money:
Seek votes to win it:-
Sitting on the couch
Of my own demise
Feeling judgment
In many wondering eyes
Watching the system
Move people like pawns
Place winners in silver and gold
And the loser in bronze
No one desires loss
Yet it comes to those in disguise
It is the return to stasis
That vanishes the lies
The gift of process is hidden
Like jewels taken by the ocean
Divers risk their lives for treasure
Given over to centuries of erosion
As I investigate the matter
On my god-given couch
I can see, with perfect clarity
That poor is the system and I got out
Resilience is the ability required
To process pain to action
But it is the gift of grace
That has enabled movement through every infraction
...and I am grateful
Written by Trudy Schrader on 04-22-2026
Begging your pardon, lady,
these grandiose emotions
spring at least in part
not from bad intentions
but a quite misguided heart
willing quite to suffer
never quite to part.
A true romantic must know
in his heart that he never
intends to get well.
Then, new events said to me,
Don’t move. A sublime generosity
Is coming toward you.
And old love said, "Stay with me."
I said, "I will.“
–Rumi
Christopher M. Swan, “Song of Susan,” 2008
Take me now, oh dear lord of greater good!
Make my worthless life have meaning
As I throw it all away
Dashed against the walls and defenses
Of an enemy I create
To be right
No matter how wrong
I know my heart to be.
(1/10/26)
You looked straight through me.
Never having felt more transparent
Never having felt more solid.
Your eyes, their radioactive colour,
My favourite colour,
Your sea shines through them,
Cutting through their uranium glass.
Tough, rare, to be cherished and protected.
Those colours, your colours, hold it all.
I see the waves of possibilities
Whispering through them.
You're so close, can't you hear.
Low songs of sirens bouncing off the water.
They're telling you to surrender to it.
why’s a prayer so much more desirable ~ when you haven’t got one
said an easy lay to a preacher ~ who’d begged for a better outcome
By
David Kavanagh
On bowing to the deity,
I hastened to leave the temple.
God said, you seem to be in undue hurry,
I demurred and said, no it’s just my worry
I might ask for something
That you are hesitant to give,
Which might our long-held rapport spoil.
To that He just smiled graciously,
But what he said set me thinking,
And what will stay with me for long.
You seem to come with a prayer and plea,
Why, come sometimes just to meet me,
I’ll see that you’ll not have to ask
Oft wearing an alibi of a mask
Nor will you look like a beggar
You bring yourself nigh down to be.
I was trying truth to distort,
Truth’s often known to us,
But we set it to sail
He only brought it back to port.
__________________
Musings |06.12.2024| God, spiritual
Message box
nothing but solicitations
both parties
He carries a wound that festers with smell,
He fears within it, bad germs might dwell.
Since losing his folks, he’s lost everything;
Each morning, he wonders what life will bring.
Each coin that he grasps, he holds with great care,
For hunger and pain both watch him in fear.
He eats little and soothes his pain with balm,
His survival depends on what's in his palm.
His parents are gone, yet grief roams each day;
He lives through the nights with no place to stay.
Yet kindness seems to have gone on a trip,
Leaving only alms within his firm grip.
Just twelve, yet his dreams have dissolved into dust,
His pockets stay bare, life’s balance unjust.
Despair fills his soul, ignoring his prayers,
Alms can't dry up all his endless tears.
How soon will death call to take him away?
Compassion stands cold, anguish paves his way.
He searches for help, but none can be found,
Somehow, death's fear races all around.
In those whom promote human sacrifice
The ancient world of Atlanta is a rising an unnatural force
clearly cut where we are the slaves bound under natural silence
To avoid conflict hiding secrets in the mountain caves
Standing at the dung heap controlled by worthless breaths
those that nourishes the roots of all evil deeds already done
Nothing good grows inside this space hallowed beings
Firstly where spiritual value is condemned by sin
attacking the very family structure using the upside down script
removing what is right black Plague's the hounds heart
Against the innocent souls judging values two left feet
can never truly see into the heart of their problem
where the life force is threatened by killers and vice
Some days we go there to beg:
Ten kilometers for each leg.
We aren’t greedy as we beg:
Never asked Givers for egg!
This week we’ll be there to beg,
Our backs to their palm wine keg:
A chance to drink spare not dreg;
It makes one laugh at us: Greg!
Our smartest beggar: Mark Clegg:
For now to it does hopes peg;
Whatever he gets he holds:
The costly with left palm folds…
He knows, though, he’s getting old
And says “I need not be told.”
14,000 bodies
sprawled on the floor
bloody
dead
14,000 families
screaming to the sky
confused
alone
14,000 bullets
laying empty on the ground
dented
stained
14,000 screams
echoing through the air
desperate
scared
How can we let this happen?
How can we look at our children and tell them the world is good?
When there are 14,000 people
Who would tell them otherwise
The map is not the terrain.
Unless we shift, all’s in vain.
Stop begging, go out and do;
let embrace of love renew.
Thinking too much, man’s disease;
love’s not an object to seize.
Once we shift from head to heart,
each moment marks a fresh start.
Mind-body is merely dust.
Each breath intake, is God’s thrust.
We are being breathed by Him
but ego makes soul’s light dim.
27-April-2023
I can hope that bullets won’t fly
I can pray for a better tomorrow
I can laugh at myself when I’m foolish
I can struggle against my imperfections
But I won’t without you in my world.
I might dream of bathing in sunshine
I might struggle against an undertow
I might say yes to the panhandling homeless
Give food to the needy; time to the ill
But I won’t without you in my world.
Mercy decided that we’d be together
Grace unfolded a plan for our lives
Now jackals of anger surround us.
Mercy decided that we’d be together
Grace unfolded a plan for our lives
Now the wolves of worry surround us
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