Jesus here invites His disciples to travel
right across the other side of the sea
in a fishing boat where a storm arose
this was a great storm, as the disciples agreed
The waves were filling the boat
Jesus' disciples were showing great fear
even accusing Jesus of not caring
for the Lord was asleep, as if He didn't hear
Jesus awoke and questioned their lack of faith
then He spoke to the sea, " Peace, be still"
the wind ceased, bringing great calm
showing Jesus ruled over storms, so brill
Now today Jesus has this same control
whatever storm you are having to face
He can intervene in your life
calming your storm by His grace
Do you have faith to believe He can?
be not like the disciples who were afraid
believe in the Lord Jesus and His love
for He died for your sins, the price He paid
Oh spoolies, tiny pink oracles,
you slept in bowls like moons at rest,
each one dreaming its own curl
before dawn could intervene.
At night you whispered to my hair~
odd little spells of twirl and tilt,
summoning spirals that rose at daybreak
like miniature whirlwinds of hope.
I swear you hummed among yourselves,
plotting mischief in the quiet drawer,
waiting to crown me with morning magic
spun from your soft, improbable dreams.
In truth I have always found that
if and when man torments man
There is a deep seated soul pain
that only that person can heal.
My own ancestors beg of me
to not intervene in broken lives,
To let the lost ones cry and wail
and to move forward silently.
Some types of pain I do ignore
not because I do not care at all
But rather due to caring too much
and because I cannot save everyone.
Whatever can even be saved anymore
are the joys and memories and loves
Along with the spirits left behind
at the gravesites of our fallen.
Everything in my life is Amazing
because I am a child of God.
Everything thing I do.
Everywhere I go..
Everyone I meet.
To me,
everything is amazing
because I am a child of God,
and HE makes every moment
golden.
Make mistake about it,
Satan tries to intervene,
to distract me from realizing
that my life is amazing,
so I tell Satan to leave me be,
because I am a child of God
and my life is simply amazing.
One joyful footstep
loosens procrastination
morning air tastes sweet
the mind keeps that light aglow
long after the walk has passed
Pleasure leaves a trace
on shoes waiting by the door
soft invitations
before thought can intervene
habit heeds motion's call
Inner loops turning—
unconscious desires take root
deep beneath reason
each fond spark of exercise
trains the nerves to yearn return
Laughter after strain
widens the spirit's landscape
breath steadies the mind
small victories slowly build
through patience and resilience
Outer loops rising
gather strength from calm delight
builds hope through movement
each glad act enlarges life
as wellness echoes health back
No harsh discipline—
only the pull of feelings
gently repeated
what once needed force and will
becomes enlightened desire
With fingers crossed, he rewrites his disjointed plot,
the struggling novelist who edits as he prays.
Each character he births is and is not~
half ink, half ghost, half-truth he can’t quite phrase.
He pulls a thread of meaning; shadows lean,
waiting to see which version he’ll allow.
They move as if the margins intervene,
as if unwritten grace could shape them now.
Yet in his hands, the draft begins to breathe~
a fragile faith disguised as narrative.
He knows the lies his metaphors bequeathe,
the hopes his careful sentences outlive.
Something stirs and answers in the stilled air,
as if it’s God who leans in to meet his prayer
The freshness of Spring and Nature calls
even to Mr. Grackle does love befall
His feathers shine in the sun's gleam
a purple hue of a metallic sheen
To look his best his black feathers clean
in his bill grabs an ant for anting
Rub those feathers with the bug
it's formic acid removes parasites snugged
Now the courtship begins to ensue
through the air sweet female he pursues
rivals fly to intervene
but Mr. Grackle's skill keen
For she follows him her cove
shrieks and eeks their song of love
to and fro their singing goes
like a rusty gate the sounds flow
Feathers fluffed and puffed
each knows they got the right stuff
they settle in nesting hatching their brood
in a community of grackles for neighborhood mood
Mr. Grackle proud with a nest pristine
for grackles keep their home clean
At night the Grackles do a communal roost like no other
a million grackles with friends those numbers shudder
The old boy now living the good life
for Mr. Grackle got a wife
Streaming,
Springing into new things,
What's this season going to bring,
Singing out reasons for being,
Seeing stars gleaming,
Streaming consciousness,
Obnoxious patterns intervene,
While we get between ourselves,
Delving into a universe of secrets,
I can't wait to see what you get,
Set your sights on the sun,
You're the one who brings change,
The world rearranges around you,
True to your intention,
This dimension of existence,
Dances with your every move,
Groove within the flow,
Don't be afraid to let go,
Thats how you grow strong,
Longer days are up ahead,
Instead of watching them go by,
Try reaching for the sky,
Pry open your heart,
Start to sing of good things,
Spring brings beginnings,
And everything you need,
To feed the dreams,
Already in life's stream.
A blooming tree brings joy unseen -
But felt is joy, but felt is green!
Soon spring-born birds burst through the scene.
We watch them pick and pluck and preen,
And only fools would intervene
With this most exquisite routine.
Unique is who you are,
The star of your own show,
Casting a shadow,
To help you grow,
Flowing with the unknown,
Learning from what's shown,
Blown chances,
Are dances with the wind,
You begin again and again,
Until you finally win,
Individually intertwined,
Designed by the divine,
Your always doing fine,
Shine brightly,
Lightly feel your way around,
Ground your machine,
Intervene between the unseen,
And who you are being,
Seeing truth come to be,
Understanding reality,
Expanding really far,
The power of a star guides you,
A unique view,
Just for you,
The individual source works through,
The proof in who you are,
The star of a show,
That's created as you go,
Know your role,
Control your emotions,
An ocean of possibilities,
Lies wide open,
No matter what you've chosen,
Gets woven into your story,
The glory of eternity,
Entities with identities,
Dance endlessly into experience,
A unique chance to advance,
Into the expanse,
Expanding ,
Then landing again,
You keep going until you win.
An onslaught of thought,
Has me distraught,
I fought so hard for me,
Only to find,
I don't like what I see,
It's not what I wanted to be,
Now tethered to a reality,
I created unconsciously,
Consciously making the decisions,
Patterns creatin from repetition,
Conditioning the way I think,
Sinking down to fit in,
Shrinking,
Giving permission,
A life in remission,
Venturing into another's vision,
Division was all I saw,
I could point out flaw after flaw,
A corrupt system of law,
Keeps us under a claw,
Crawling through a TV screen,
The electric light machine,
Uses programming to intervene,
So they remain unseen,
While you get lost in the scene,
In between all your thoughts,
An onslaught of taught behavior,
Keeps you just as a player,
Instead of being the creator,
Here for greater things,
Then any money could bring.
The problem is
To keep them out
Or let them in
Again
It seems an argument
I just can’t win
For one will bark
Until neighbors
Intervene
The other MEOW
In tones
To make ears grieve
The birds lament
Oh please open the door
For we who once were five
Are now but four
But if I do
The cat will slyly PURRRRR
And the dog
Lay by my feet
And loudly snore
A young man, driving from work, my car would steer,
for some panang curry and Singha beer
Chao Krung restaurant, my favorite cuisine -
and Bangkok, Thailand in my dream.
A young artist, as I well recall,
painted Bangkok at night on an entire wall,
I can still see the city lights gleam,
the other City of Angels in my dream.
We were young. My, she was pretty.
I offered to show her the L.A. city,
the Angeles forest, a Malibu beach scene,
with my new Bangkok, Thailand dream.
But in a year, we went separate ways,
though I have fond memories of those days.
A laughing God, made fate intervene,
to the back of my mind went my Krung Tep dream.
The friendly Thai people live in the Land of Smiles,
but, from L.A., it's eight thousand miles.
Can this old man, live out such a scheme,
and visit Bangkok, Thailand, a forty-year dream?
Two little boys, in a fight
Bystanders watched in delight
One little boy fell to the ground
The other little boy continued to pound
One bystander decided to intervene
Over the two, he stood in between
Over the two, like a partitioning wall,
Over the two, he stood strong and tall
One little boy needed protection
The other little boy needed correction
“It is too late to shut the stable door when the steed is stolen.”
~ From John Heywood’s A Dialogue Containing the Number in Effect of All the Proverbs in the English Tongue (1546)
“When the well’s dry, we know the worth of water.”
~ From Ben Franklin's Poor Richard's Almanac (1746)
My mission is to go back to eighteen-seventy-nine.
I’ve been authorized to repair history’s design.
Luckily, I’ve been trained on a Woody’s Time Machine,
and granted poetic license, fate to intervene.
I’ve set the dial to Braunau am Inn, near the border
of Bavaria and Austria. I must prevent disorder.
I’ll play with history’s chessboard, move a couple pawns,
and introduce Klara Polzl to a man named Franz.
Franz needed a housekeeper, and Klara fit the bill.
So, until pigs fly, which they never did and never will,
Klara wouldn’t work for Alois. They’d not have a son,
and the world would be spared what their young Adolf had done.
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