Mindlessly I will follow every trend.
Controlled in all I do by appetite.
Pursue it single-minded to the end.
But new things mean I cannot rest at night.
We both know there are many just like me
Who, if you don’t look close might seem alive.
Who hunger to possess all that we see.
Who think we need all things just to survive.
I search for what I want, not what I need.
And what I grasp will never be released.
There’s always more on which I long to feed.
My hunger’s such that it will never cease.
Consuming like a zombie to the core,
No matter what I have, I still want more.
loving yourself is not easy
you have to lose yourself first
in something you adore
a hobby that you can do by yourself
something that engrosses you
that you can do for eight hours
eight hours?
yes!
at least, maybe more
I can draw cartoons for eight hours
I can paint for eight hours
I can write poetry for eight hours
There are lots of things I cannot do for eight hours
Those are things that do not help me love myself
Knowing this, I concentrate on the things I adore
The hobbies that I can do
by myself, with myself
and for myself
If you have not found these hobbies yet,
it is time to get started.
Summer’s in the rearview mirror,
re-experience it at your peril.
it’ll only distract you now, and maybe depress you.
Summer shifts your orbit, from classrooms and remote zooms,
to lollygagging by beaches and snuggling in cozy hotel rooms.
As intense and vital as last summer was - as they all are -
it’s already blurring in memory.
Soon only the memory of sensations will remain,
like the warmth of the breeze and the sun on my skin
and sigh the warmth of a certain boy’s skin on my skin.
Those flashbacks ache, late at night, like phantom limbs.
.
.
Songs for this:
All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow
I cherish precious times
Along God’s vibrant love*
Resolved midst prayed-for goal
With joyous revival
To fulfill assigned role.
I cherish precious times
With blest triumphant glow
Encouraging me more
To do by faith what’s good
Yes, better than before.
I cherish precious times
Of radiant gladness
Readily reaching-out
Smiting selfishness force
While subduing pride’s pout.
I cherish precious times
having jubilant hope
Living by divine grace
Sharing peace, showing care
Each step upon life’s pace.
*1 John 4:16 - And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.
January 1, 2024
Edited on January 21, 2024
10th place, "Precious Moments" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Regina Mcintosh; judged on 1/28/2024.
Don't limit what you can or cannot do by watching others -set your own path
Spending a lost weekend together
~ awful hard to do, by the way
VIDEO: The Old Friends Do by ABBA (LYRICS) YouTube
AUDIO: Listening Version
What Makes Friendship
What makes distance so touchable,
What makes arm wrestling physical,
What makes fun a thing for two,
What makes tears of missing you,
What makes secrets last, insiders,
What makes smiles, to be tear-wipers,
What makes fighting, ugh, forgivable,
What makes forgiving unbearable,
What makes oops somewhat culpable,
What makes cleanup punishable,
What makes laughs, the one-legged wins,
What makes others say, "Not twins?",
What makes saying goodbye really hard,
What makes memories my field of regard.
2022 August 05
*1st Place*
FRIENDSHIP
~~Beata Agustin: Judged 2022 August 08
...or In One Ear and Out to the Bridge Club...
Everybody likes a little gossip,
Everybody likes to hear a bit of dirt.
It brightens conversations,
And arouses shocked sensations,
And might cause some mild vexations,
But should never, never, never ever hurt.
What the neighbors do should be nobody's business,
It's not your fault if they don't keep their curtains drawn.
Besides, you're reasonably sure
That's what binoculars are for,
And if you hide behind your door,
What you can see them do by them is never known.
The Browns across the street are having problems,
He's been sleeping on the couch since New Year's Eve.
It seems those last two business trips
Involved some extra-marital "slips".
You're not adept at reading lips,
But gossip needn't be precise to be believed.
Yes, everybody likes a little gossip
To discuss at lunch, or brunch, or over tea.
To be aware of the mistakes
That almost everybody makes
Is all the skill and guile it takes
To be a gossiper, and not a gossipee.
Seeds
The mystery...
the very miracle of seeds
eludes me completely.
I put a small,
tiny,
round,
shape into the soil.
I water the hopeful kernel,
and it sprouts a few days later.
Life comes right along.
How does that happen?
No one really answers... that question.
Scientists fumble.
Theologians guess.
But the truth resides, in the knowledge.
that God is king.
The fools in power...
have long explanations
that lead to nowhere,
and back again,
to tell you in the end,
they don't really know anything at all.
Men, and women...
White coats, teachers, and doctors
are just people, like you and me.
They all went to school to do a job.
They could do it with or without a heart,
in their chests,
as many do, by the numbers.
The truth, about life...
no one truly understands the miracle
of the moment.
It is only a fact.
The seed opens, it begins,
and the baby's heart beats.
Inter the course
Do by force...
Selana
She strapped on her warplane and flew away to fight
Russian jets being the enemy to be hit
Her missiles were old like her plane
But it was a good one well built
Serviced by her mechanics to perform
When ordered to do by her
She the tip of the spear just a gal
Reason I love my mistress the pilot
Defending our nation each and every day
She already shot down four or five planes
She told me it’s confusing being in combat
Things happen fast beyond comprehension
It’s comparable to driving a racing bike
I think but I’m a hacker and don’t drive
I get into Russian and Red Chinese systems
Do my art and war that way to defeat them
It focuses me while my gal is up above
Keeping us all safe from enemy actions
I want to tell the world but we cannot
We must remain a secret what we both do
The day was hot and humid,
As I walk through the valley of shadow.
I watch the clouds do by.
I watch the rain turn black.
I watch lighting turn red as wine.
I saw the dead with dead eyes.
I walk through the valley of Death.
I will fear no evil as...
I run through the seas of dreams.
In the dark gloom..
I wake the forest primeval with the
Rage of the lost.
I dance.
I dance in the pale ghost light of the moon
In the unforgiving night.
I raise my head in the shadows of rain
For to hear the forest cry.
I shed a tear for destiny
fearing the hate.
I see a forest full of rain
Full of memories, pain, insane…
In the hot and humid night…
Though millions are waiting without any work
We labor too hard for the lucky who shirk
We forfeit our rest for the job that we do
And working continues until we are through
If we should expire to rest just a bit
The man is a liar who calls you a twit
The foreman is ill so we work for his son
No battle this sick is a victory won
We labor all week and we labor too hard
We labor to sleep in the back of the yard
A pillow of leaves and a lawn for a bed
A willow should weep for the yawn in my head
The way that we band is for calm and restraint
The clay in our sand is a common complaint
The units we do by the proudest to know
Are more than just who is the loudest to blow
The job was completed but not without fun
The laugh that we needed was true for each one
The job on display was the hardest we did
The slob of the day was the foreman’s own kid
The pain in my heart is much worse in my head
The first thing I need is a room with a bed
The doctor is in but my luck has run out
The next job is waiting without any doubt.
I am the master of my body I think until I realize nicotine has taken over
she is in charge now.
she decides whether my day will be full of cheer.
I did not think I could crave something as much as I do her.
Smoking was something I learned to do by example – both parents.
their home is a reminder that there is a brokenness somewhere.
my breath, my lungs, my habit; it all causes me to have a temper.
when nicotine is not available. I need my fix you see.
I would like to see a possible victory, but with dismay I admit.
I can barely grasp the lies I tell of my smoking life.
there is a loss of something, I am not sure what, but I see better.
others do not hold the chains of addiction. They are mine to deal with.
what chance do I have to kick this habit? I am fearing no chance at all.
Since gales do by Nature’s arm blow
In dizzying storms far from the shore,
So even choiceless boats must move,
As unyielding gusts so restless prove.
Not every motioning vessel afloat
High waters as ship or small boat
Chose to tease furious ocean tide,
Or test mild sharks' waspish pride.
Some swift sea-faring boats would
Anon stop if winds in unison stood,
And relish a sober long-wanted rest
From hard sails by another pressed.
The wavy sail isn’t necessarily sweet
Just because that fast-voyaging fleet
Seems to glide over bubbly bounds
In unwillingly smooth gleeful rounds.
Remember gusts by Nature’s arm roll;
And mortals' temporal boats must fall,
Or rise along sternly unyielding trails
Left by glum oceans' unresting gales.
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