All this trouble waging war
is what this world is looking for,
should they write to one another
and not let us out to suffer,
maybe writing up some verse
but nice words seem to be scarce,
should they maybe get a muse
with its looks make them amuse,
an ambassador we shall need
to show love and lesser greed,
I’d appoint someone like you
Soft and sweet like winnie pooh,
It would surely cut the stress
And with peace clear out this mess
Am i selfish to want more?
i get up the courage to talk to her for the first time in two weeks.
i ask her how school is,
“Good.”
She says
“My mom wants to know if you can come to my talent show on the 30th.”
i ask
“No I have a sleepover that night.”
Oh…ok
“Have you ordered your black swan costume yet?”
i ask
“Oh I had to cancel because of the phone thing.”
oh…ok
You had to cancel because it’s me?
You have a sleepover the night before but you can’t take the time to spend halloween with me?
The one who just moved here.
The one who you know has no friends.
The one who you know for a fact is hurting.
the one you know is leaving.
“oh it’s ok. it’s with maddie right?”
“yeah.”
In the interests of sanity.' In a service to
Humanitarian wellbeing..Would you halt
All oil and gas exports.? Until the heat dies in the chests of those who need validation' who revel in power.' And exist
For blood-lust, though the impact would be harsh.' It will be better than more war.'
It should not be as it is.' Life is able to give
So much better, than fear, threats and death, if you are truly sincere.? Mr Putin.
This is as good an action as any.' All blessings to all readers, may war become
Recognised as obsolete.' May peace be
The much valued prize.'
wherever you go i am there
the clouds may hold you
moving along upon silver wings
destinations to be kept
but i hold you in the forever
where the angels sing
where everything is you
where you are everything
and there i am at the gate's entrance
waiting to hold the wonder you are
when the mission is done
in my arms, my lips crushed in windfall
and in those eyes i could not ask of life
a nanometer more
Oregon 9/28/26
I write of heartbreak, fears and tears
But then somedays, His love He shares
I hear His kindness in the voice of rain
He’s the wonder that comforts all my pain
Beneath the echoes of my deepest prayers
Shadows and feelings, blessings and cares
Beneath all the yearnings, are praises galore
For the One who created me, the One I adore
I write of dreams, still breath of spring and fall
The voice of winter is found in each distant call
But, mostly, I believe He touched my very soul
With love that reassures, love that makes me whole
I write to you, my fellow believer, my brother
I write of this joy and peace found in no other
He is the answer to every need, every desire
His love is wise and strong, it’s like a burning fire
Beyond the tears that seem to overwhelm me
There is a blessing of His grace, making me see
He tells us of His kindness with each rising sun
But nothing is more wonderful than His only Son!
I recognise One God, our Father Eternal
I kneel before Him, I beleive He alone Created all things seen, and also invisible.'
I accept the; Blood of His Son Jesus
Christ, as the redeeming price for my
Sins,
I also rejoice in fellowship with His Holy
Spirit, whom i request to lead me evermore.'
I rise to a forgiven life, a life of power with
The ability to rebuke evil, and rich in the wisdom
Born of Love,
I will always proclaim the Blood of Christ' and support True Christianity, and its futherance, throughout all dimensions amen.'
I am going whether in rain or heat,
and sometimes
my voice seems strange as if
it were alien to me,
I'm not certain whose voice is crying:
I cry to sustain me.
The poets cry for more.
In the end I cover both my eyes;
there in my hands as if at rest,
one may think I had place
upon to lay my head.
(Blackout of The Song Of The Beggar by Rainer Maria Rilke)
Wouldn’t it be sad to live without
A little hope to understand
What our immortal soul’s about
To recognize and represent?
And who would say “Good morning, dear
How’s the forecast on BBC?
I sense the damp in atmosphere
Draw back the curtain, let me see”
And who would answer “Yes, you’re right
It’s drizzling, but the sky gets clearer
How was your blood glucose last night?
No shooting up and down, my dear?”
What actors could’ve played that action?
The voice of yours, your smiling face
Mean more than childlike mind abstraction
We used to cherish in our faith
And what it’s like, remains obscure
But I suppose, “there are more things”
If you could come to reassure
I’ll hear from afar your rings..
IRAN MAKES TRUMP SORE
NOW CANADA TARIFF WAR
YOU ARE PAYING MORE
When our children were children…
we’d sit together on the floor and watch Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood…
It was a wonderful way to be together
while learning how to be kind and decent…and good.
From our age to theirs in front of our TV it was easy connect
with someone who exuded kindness and treated everyone with respect.
It was our hope that our children would pick up on this thread…
and when they went out into the world…
would be a little more like Fred.
That they would practice peace and empathy…
would live their life with honor and dignity…
that they’d try to resolve their differences through communication….
not with hostility.
That they would understand although there is evil in this world…
meant to demean, demolish and destroy…
they could fight this evil with love and hope…
and try to fill the world with joy.
Imagine what our world would look like…
if we accepted one another in spite of our differences…
If all the people of the world were acknowledged…
welcomed…
and well-fed….
Imagine the kind of world we could create…
If we were all…
a little more like Fred.
We think we tread the solid earth. Yet, the earth itself was but a dream.
In the dream, we burned each other's desires and greed,
Filled with the ecstasy of each other's love, we finally became one—
Only to realize we were each other's roses.
We think we know one another, yet we know nothing.
Even this, in the end, was merely a dream of each other.
We thought we were walking upon a dream.
Only to awaken and find ourselves standing upon real ground,
Holding fast to each other's love and warmth.
I neither awaken nor do I dream.
At this very moment,
With a thundering, restless sound, I am born anew.
Someday, when someone reads these words of mine,
I shall be born within your heart and in your eyes—
Not as a dream, but as reality.
==================================
No more writing!
Until my poem calls me, again!
==================================
Wednesday night and it's 10:15
The Mets won and Alcaraz is beating Faria
I had just lost a game of Pinochle
But I lost to myself- Mama Mia!
One more glass of black, perhaps
Will do me a good nights rest
But first I need to beat myself
To prove- that I am the best
Win or lose- I don't care
As long as I play it right
Just one more glass of black for me
And then, to all, I say... Good night
Sweet dreams... sleep tight
And do hope tomorrow... you see the light!
You climbed into my lap tonight,
your eyes two wide and worried seas,
and asked me in your small, soft voice,
"Who do you love more tell me, please?
My darling, love is not a pie,
to slice and make the pieces thin.
It does not shrink when shared around,
it grows each time you tuck it in.
I love your brother for his fire,
the way he chases stars to keep.
I love your sister for her song,
she hums when daylight falls to sleep.
And you? I love you for this, this,
this brave and trembling question mark,
for bringing me your fear to hold
and lighting up my heart so dark.
So which one do I love the most?
My answer's steady, clear, and true...
I love you all the same, my darlings,
equally, completely all of you.
No more, no less, no less, no more.
One heart that beats for three, for four.
If you must know how much, my dear,
As much as breath. As much as here.
Some say,
'Let's see if we can't do it,'
before applying
themselves to it.
I'm sure, positive in fact,
'Let's see if we can,'
would be a more-rewarding move
to enact, than
attempting a negative to prove.
Feeling a stinging, sharp pain.
It's fitting perfectly, like a puzzle piece.
Who is it that is to blame?
Going faster and harder till both of us break,
going still, even if I freeze,
'cause, oh Lord, it really is for my sake.
All the fire inside of me,
the feeling only screaming, “Please,”
letting them out, letting them grow, letting them be.
He is all I ever wanted to achieve.
With him, the largest problems transform into relief.
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