The opening poem of the day is presented.
While some individuals aspire to wealth, others find fulfillment in different dreams. Personally, I feel I’ve paused my dreaming.
As a member of Generation X, I embrace a unique and modern perspective.
I recall a moment from my sixteenth year when I stood on that cliff, gazing over the gully. It inspired me to reflect on my life, viewing challenges, rejections, and feelings of inadequacy about my professional potential as steppingstones to growth.
I dedicated 28 years to a job that tested my spirit, sacrificing my own mental health so my daughters could pursue their dreams. In doing so, I empowered them to chase their aspirations, passing the torch of my dreams to them.
I stand at a pivotal moment in my life, reflecting on my journey.
Have I made the right choice?
Am I truly satisfied with my decisions?
I envision breaking through barriers that seek to quiet my voice.
To silence one voice is to shut down a conversation.
My final lines… finding growth after changing course.
.
my werd
tiz begin'en
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Sometimes it’s better to open your mouth
But on other occasions, it’s not,
For declaring opinions may often go south,
So decide if you’re taking that shot.
There’s a certain relief when your views are expressed,
Yet it could lead to some confrontation
And you might then regret not just letting it rest,
Thus avoiding a bad situation.
How to know what to do is a balancing act -
Neither spewing nor stewing’s ideal –
Though perhaps, with finesse and a sprinkle of tact,
You can calmly explain how you feel.
Quieting the mind letting everything go all my thoughts just simply vanish
True writers write from their hearts,
because they have ink in their veins.
Words flow onto their paper,
as they go writing away.
Their wonderful imagination comes alive,
wanting their readers to enjoy their work.
Knock all you want till you break down my door
Knock all you want till it aint there no more
Knock all you can till the wind burns your back
Knock all you can till the wood starts to crack
Knock all you will till you forget to see
Knock all you will till you give up on me
Knock all you please till your eyes start to cry
Knock all you please till the plants start to die
Knock all you can till the birds stop there song
Knock all you will till the silence is gone
Knock all you please till the world ends its war
Knock all you want no ones home anymore.
Chicken aroma haunts the booth
Colonel watches from his highlander, heavenly roof
Realizing gimmick, more nourishing than a baby ruth
Candy bar
Named after the major league diamond star
Crispy crunch
Microphones record the munch
From the perfect afternoon lunch
During eleven's hour
Clutch play was the power
Being able to respond
Using leather glove wand
Answering where to go
Enjoy a good show
And a meal
Base hit steal
Served up Freddie style
Working utilities, going the extra mile
Where nothing gets by
Unless the ball is a fly
Experiencing a short stop at the concession stand
Feeding hungry traditional fans
Taking daily win to the bank
For those pinstriping Yanks
Even if game ends with a strike out
Solid defense will earn a healthy shout
“Cluck it
We have a real cool beach bucket!”
This poem is being distributed under terms
laid down by galactic conventions of amorous angels.
By breaking the seal on my lips, you agree to be bound
by the following conditions: you will frantically search for perfection
in love and end up a snack for worms; you will never regain
that gemlike slumber in the universal womb
which is the only thing worth having; you will waste your existence
in howling pursuit of the phantoms of desire,
which will suck you dry as you ravenously feed on them.
No warranty, expressed or implied, is being made
that you will conquer cities of moonlit enchanted towers,
or bask in the homage of rajahs with perfumed beards,
or drowse in voluptuous pomp of erotic temples,
or be otherwise enabled beyond necessity.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am grateful before I ever blow a candle
or open a present
for being blessed
to take a moment to remember
all the wonders I already possess
Come, walk with me along this quiet path.
The world presses hard, the soul bends,
Yet here we find the stillness
where Love moves unseen.
We do not dwell on sorrow,
we do not linger in pity.
We bend, we listen, we bear
the small and secret pains of the world.
Let your heart be open.
Let it be soft, yet strong.
Let it receive without clutching,
and give without pause.
This is the way of the faithful soul:
to walk among the suffering,
to rise above self,
and to let the light of God
fall through every shadow.
The man in the elevator
is the reticent straggler
forced to collapse his personal space bubble
to avoid the stairs and cop the stares
of strangers beyond their circle of care
holding their breath
avoiding eye-to-eye contact/
A nod, a wink, is all they get
on this stage where the actors all face out
rehearsing as the lift doors open and close on each floor,
hoping the prompter has forgotten their lines.
Opening wide
The rosy beauty
of the rose,
the white
splendor
of the lily
spring arrives !
Reporter advised do not go.'
On whats already known.'
Known to rile; big Bob Katter
Yet he pushed it hell for leather.'
Pushed it right back to Cloncurry
Seventy years blurred..To Bob in school
It was not funny.' I'd say here i'm on the
Money.)
When we say, ‘I am’, our hand goes to the heart,
signalling it represents seat of our soul,
which drenched in God’s love deems no one as apart.
To open the heart is our very first goal,
without which in truth soul’s life quest cannot start
but the problem is, ego is in control
and so animal instincts as yet prevail,
with thoughts orbiting dark desires that assail.
The heart is all love and love employs no force,
so it’s only by free will that we can choose,
to make our touch gentle and change our life’s course,
heeding voice of conscience, repaying our dues,
atoning in silence and feeling remorse,
praying like a child till love begins to ooze.
Heart is the centre of our chakras seven;
God dwells deep within, so take it as heaven.
You speak from the depths of your soul,
Of all the things you say you can't let go,
But my sweet loving man, I want you to see,
Opening your heart is actually setting you free,
Revealing instead of holding it inside,
Allowing yourself to release all that you hide,
The pressure that pushes your heart away,
That keeps things hidden away that prevents you from change,
Because let's be honest, change means letting down your guard,
And the ego constantly will fight against your heart,
But once you start to open the door.. the most beautiful thing happens, you start to see more,
You give of your heart, you start to relate,
And then others release their bondage because they see your faith,
Love starts to grow where weeds once lived,
Because you were willing to open your heart and give,
You gave a sense of safety where fear once resides
And in doing so God replaced the fear with love inside,
To give of yourself more, to give again...
Against the fears of this world.. love wins in the end
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