A Gemini artist married to a Libra mathematician?
This will end badly, a relationship that defies regal ambition.
The naysayers laugh for we are opposite in many ways.
I can lose myself in my work and paint canvasses for days.
My libra mathematician likes statistics, it is his powerful tool.
I cannot understand algebra, statistics once made me a fool.
But we eat our beef, mashed potatoes with warm bread.
And we do not talk shop, so our marriage moves along ahead.
A Gemini artist married to a Libra mathematician is insane.
But we have been married for over fifty years so this is plain.
Although I despise math, and he does not cartoon, paint or sing.
We have many commonalities, and laugh at the same thing.
We raised three daughters who understood the beauty of this.
Depending upon the problem, they sought answers for their bliss.
Asking the Gemini when playing and whimsy was the answer they wanted.
If it was a logic question or a math problem, for Daddy they hunted.
Here one day gone the next
I did not know you very well
You were always nice to me
Commonalities in passing
Sudden sadness in the clouds
The old heads respected you
Sadness in everyone’s heart
Grief in everyone’s eyes
Stillness in your energy gone
The type of sudden sadness
Which leaves you in shock
The type of sudden sadness
Which brings abrupt silence
The type of sudden sadness
Which hollows you out inside
The type of sudden sadness
When kindness of 37 years young dies
The 23rd Chapter found ...
? ... ... ... ! (huh?)
In their ending man destroyed their heaven and their earth.
And the earth being without form and void;
Presents its re'-membered nothingness back into the darkness of familiarities 'ere alienation out of the commonalities that are the countenance of deep space.
The Spiritual force ... "Do you hear and see, what the deaf and blind, had known." ~~~~~~~~> touch ...
... conceptual introvertism
I may have always loved you
And with you been in tune
I didn't always know you
But once I did it soon
Became fairly apparent
That something else was there
Several commonalities
Were breathing the same air
We blended well together
The more we did consort
Then symbiosis clarified,
You lead and I support
And that is how I like it
Just give me things to do
And together we'll accomplish
All that you want to
When you look at me, what do you see?
When you look at me, what do you expect?
When you look at me, what do you need from me?
May be, I may not be perfect,
May be, I may not be your type,
May be, I may not be your kind,
Nor your friend, neither your like,
But, ooh no,
We are not the same
Nor, are we similar,
Neither are we a like,
However, we share the same commonalities,
We are all people, made from fresh & blood,
We are the mighty creators,
We both breathe,
We both drink & eat,
We both reproduce,
Yooyoo taa!!!
Do not forget, we both release,
Ooh yes!!!
Clear my mind,
Opened up my mind,
Let me see through.
in Love and Luck
there's only Fate
there is Will and Way
to shape each day
there is who we are but not
is the question in play
not defined by Power or Roles
But Deed
Or facial Expression
or solemn Confession
but Intent thru Content
not by lips but by Words
Truth of our Essential Self
Soul is spent
not by how long our hair
not because you are faster
or brighter
or Intellectual or have
a History
or story that says so
but by the intricate Balance
of Equality
without gender or obsolete
Definition
to be just who
we are as and who we are
for many ways to be balanced
equal to the stars that bore us
February 1, 2020
Gender Equality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
Christmas Tree, Menorah Meet-Up
A Christmas tree and a Menorah,woke one morning right next to
one another!
Both were shocked to be so placed, thinking this was such a total
disgrace!
Well, being immobile there was nothing either could do!
They each avoided looking at one another, in a stubborn stew!
Eventually they did, then a great friendship was launched and they
even developed a fondness for each other.
I heard them chatting and talking about their commonalities.
And even..how better this world could possibly be!
Someone lit them at sundown, and the lights of each..glowed.
With their loving brotherhood and whispers...shimmering on the
beauteous, silvered-falling snow.
They taught each other songs of their respective heritages.
Swapped stories of what their lights represented.
There was no chatter of who was wrong or who was right!
They were there to simply light the human spirit, tonight~
I, silently and helplessly, wept in utter delight!
Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah
From:
Panagiota Romios
December 16, 2019
Where does it begin?
Is it in the DNA?
Is it in the foundational structure?
Is it through skin conformity families?
Is it through children's cartoons?
Is it through confirmation bias?
Is it through popular music?
Is it through the foods we eat?
Is it through the idols we idolize?
Is it through the complex nature of our history?
Is it emblematic in our very flag?
Is it through statues glorifying the past?
Am I damned to hate my brother because his skin doesn't match mine?
Or am I free to love my brother despite our difference in pigmentation?
Everybody always asks
Where does it begin?
But nobody asks...
Where does it end?
The truth is simple
It ends when we do not deny our differences
But when we accept and celebrate them
While also rejoicing over commonalities
And recognizing our shared destiny
On this blue planet in space
Where does it end?
It ends with you
It ends with me
It ends with us
I knew two twenty-somethings who
had been soul mates since age sixteen.
The commonalities that drew
them to each other were quite keen.
They relished great old movies, those
with lively song-and-dance routines.
On weekend nights, they sometimes chose
to join in Fred and Ginger scenes.
Before long, “Singin’ in the Rain”
became top choice. One time when they
were watching—Don’t think I‘m insane
when I tell what transpired that day!
As unpredicted raindrops fell
and matched those on the tv screen,
the cute young couple could not quell
the urge to reenact the scene.
Outside, quite wet, they’d morphed into
the movie’s Don and Kathy. While
they sang and danced, they bid adieu
reality in their own style!
Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers
“Singin’ in the Rain,” sung by Gene Kelly (Don)
Kathy, Debbie Reynolds
The wood is stacked for winter.
One way out of the mind's limitations
is through other minds' contemplations.
The books are stacked for winter.
Yet even that cannot satisfy.
Failing to hold still for meditation
my teacher smiles, makes this observation:
The purpose of sitting's not to be satisfied
or satiated. Remain hungry,
cold, uncomfortable and counting enemies.
These, and fear, are our commonalities,
and the discipline of not hitting whenever angry.
You'll appreciate dying
quietly at home. Whichever season has been randomly assigned will be beautiful
as ever
as a molecule of water is to all matter.
"In my life there were always too many things."
If there is no time, only change
the linear becomes circular.
Do not say north or south. You're
within the winter range
of chickadees, hawks, owls and herons.
River grapes, rose hips, the cedar waxwings'
repast. Their talk is my reminding
change outlasts endurance.
This friend I have aquired
commonalities abound between us.
Our wishes correlate
like a long lost pal
separated by chance
reunited by fate.
Our friendship grows daily
jokes and quips thrown about
together, we jest.
Slowly, we grow comfortable
in our desire.
It drives us forward
propelling us together,
hopefully, down the same path.
lead my hand o' dear life
lead my hand
on this land
o' dear life,
until the end
o' dear thought
of comfort
seed my life
feed me not in strife
bleed me joy from nine to five
lead me a journey of phases
a journey of ages
to face this
germinate in me a corn
of survival
a history of possibilities
a record of living to afford
a source to live
for this life
is a choreographer of life
a propeller of existence
an economy of spiritual commodities
a tear drop of opportunities
yet not so many does see its commonalities
an event of anomalies and regularities
lead me a way o' dear life
carry me a sledge on a journey of life
a terrain of survival and life
a gemstone for many
a pentagon of any
a model of penny
an artwork of joy
a string of life on a journey
a script of many
a stanza of any
opn08022012/0106
from: 'journey of life' and 'on a journey',
february 2012
>> ntema's unique poetry (nup)
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lead-my-hand-o-dear-life/
face to face
inevitably doing this to
kill time doing this to
find a place outside the moment to
reside doing this to bend the
will of a foe doing this to
see into another equally
coming to the conclusion that
there is absolutely nothing else
there back in the depths of the
dead eyes doing this in parallel
torture doing this to survive the
extent of what’s left doing this
to the edge of the void doing this
to analyze the commonalities
between the both of us doing this
to trace the differences so
wondrous so beautiful so chaotic
doing this to surf the wave of
indifference doing this to kill
away another minute doing
this to provide sustenance in
a world full of nothing.
Allowed for his glory.
The bound burden seems so heavy,
So brutal as if to chastise,
Though that is not its purpose.
To peel back the sinful man,
And replace with divine scars.
To wrench such commonalities,
And replace with a tempered soul.
To this end, only the blessed
Will have this world beaten from them.
Cast out to leave a vessel for his grace,
And fill with the whispers of the Lamb.
Dear traveler, hearken not for peace.
Pray for trials and tribulations of the Son,
That you too might know the strength,
And the power to bleed with thanksgiving.
Oh Lord, pluck from us boastful contempt.
My heart is sour with discouragement!
Grant me courage to trust in the Word,
And know what has been given.
In the quiet darkness, in a pool of tears,
On my knees, bowed in penitence,
Surrendering the dust from which I’m made.
I give thanks for His blessings are plentiful.
I have a mind, a body, a sense that I am one
I am a husband and father, but first I was a son
I do have faith, but I question, the many times I’m tried
As, that just goes to prove that I have many sides
I am a worker for a dollar, with hopes to get much more
Truth be known, if I was richer, I’d know not what it’s for
I have a burning passion every morning, noon and night
To express my thoughts poetically, these ideas that I write
I also am a dreamer, allowing my mind to let me play
It helps to break monotony, to make a better day
I teach sixth grade religion, because kids today know not
They have no values, nor morals, truly they know squat
But, if I were to sum it up, this man of whom I speak
I would honestly have to say that I am quite unique
Though I may share some interests, commonalities you’d say
I am just me, with good and bad, I’d choose no other way
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