Life is full of steps and stages
As we learn what it is to be alive.
And every stage is marked
By the recognition that we were wrong
About what it is we now know.
Like a box within a box
Or nesting Russian dolls
Continually we open onto a new world
A new level of understanding.
We talk of insects and crustaceans
Reptiles and amphibians shedding their skin
But we do it too, just more subtly and subjectively,
And as more evolved beings, continuously.
What is it we shed besides old dead skin?
Old dead ideas, outgrown, outlived
Making way for the new
Slowly changing the programmed self
Into a newer version, gradually adjusting
Our identity
With software updates
That continually need the bugs worked out.
When does this all end?
Never, Life says
With every new layer of skin.
(9/13/25)
The last puzzle
When the last piece of your life's puzzle
finally fits, and you have outgrown the old man
who still crave recognition
He spends his, what might be his last summer
in his den editing and editing
not to leave alone work done when young
He cannot be what he once was
A new life walking on soft sand and a smile
at hungry sea gulls flying low in the forever
hunt for food, not likely
He knows he will, read about the politics of our
time to form an opinion and keep it to himself
He has resigned to his shortcoming smile and
Forgive the old man
Softly the summer breeze
Unburdens me ~
Maybe life will unfold delightfully
Maybe spitfully,
Even tragically (if true love fails)
Remember me!
Balmy weather makes me remember
Riotous behavior,
Even though I was younger,
Eventually outgrown,
Zephyrs of summer remain perfumed
Ever after.
You stood behind, not saying much,
Yet in the hush, I felt your touch.
The mirror framed our quiet grace,
Two souls in love, one warm embrace.
You'd watch me comb, your eyes so still,
The room would breathe against your will.
No need for words, your gaze would speak—
Of stolen time, of hearts made weak.
You'd press me close against the wall,
And in that hush, I had it all.
Your fingers whispered on my skin,
Like love too big to hold within.
I’d laugh, and you would just observe,
That smile of yours I didn’t deserve.
But in your eyes, I caught the flame,
Of someone scared to play love’s game.
Now memories play on quiet loops,
In every pause, your shadow stoops.
Though we’ve outgrown what once felt true,
In those small moments, I had you.
When you're hot
I mean when you start
Glowing or winning
Instead of them to flow
They start looking for faults
Bringing the past you've outgrown to shine
Just to bring you down
Stay strong, so they won't think their plots or plans have been manifested.
When you're happy
They'll do anything
To make you bored
Just to see you sober
Or slow you down
But you're a soldier
Don't surrender
Just stay locked in yourself.
When they see you on top
They will do everything to rip you apart
Just to see you down again at the bottom
I'm talking about your oppositions
No matter how lovely or kind you are
There's always a rivalry
A savior was nailed in Calvary
Jesus Christ to be precise
So; my brother leave story
Just give God the glory
For him to give you victory.
Behold us one, the marriage of two minds,
Two creatures of cross-continental births,
With force of love the universe combines,
Find, in each other, home, a fount of mirth.
Behold us cleaved, the union of true souls,
Embraced, dancing hearts shield us from the night,
In our arms we find shelter from the cold,
Move them together, to produce great light.
Behold united lovers, one, to share,
The joys of empty hours, eternal days,
Ebony skin to paler maple hair,
Celestial beams shine out this pair to stay.
In wooded boughs and outgrown meadows run,
Lovers hand in hand, to bask in morning’s glow,
With tinted blues, the ready rising sun,
Lights up the roses, growing row by row.
Like honey, poetry drips from their lips
And prose milk flows, from their Lord’s promised land
But no sweeter could that white liquor be, if
There was no honey, free in lover’s hands.
Already married in mind I see
Married in body these two will be.
Oh God of Creation
Direct
My creativity and productivity
So I can fly out of this nation
Even with slow motion but no stagnation
Thriving and striving globally not locally
Without any commotion but jubilation.
Oh God of Creation
Remove every blockage
Or linkage
Hindering my expansion
Which is my growth
Putting me on expectations
Without getting where I want to be or what I want.
Oh God of creation
I know you will do it
I'm not sure of the timing
But it's certain
For you said in your laws
Ask and shall be given
Seek and you'll find
Knock and it shall be open
Guild me, so I don't fall into the wrong circle
Recycling all that I have outgrown, Amen!!!
I usually give my dogs a treat in Cousin’s Park
This is where my grandchildren once played.
It has a fort, two slides, a swingset, and other kid stuff.
The grandchildren have outgrown it.
I should rename this Dog Park.
But we have a metal sign that says Cousin’s Park.
I don’t want to take that away from the grandchildren.
Sometimes they come up here and goof around.
Pretending they are little again.
Today I popped the lid off the treat tub.
My puppy pushed his head inside, so I could not see.
Dragged things of mine out of it.
My older dog waited. He is more polite.
They both know there are treats in here.
I am glad the raccoons have not found them yet.
I know they would have no trouble whipping off this plastic lid.
I give each dog a treat and settle down to write.
I write ten poem a day up here.
Steel in my veins, ash in the sky,
I walk through fire and don’t ask why.
The gods went silent, cold and blind,
So I carve my fate in a world unkind.
Whispers claw through twisted trees,
Luring souls down to their knees.
But I don’t bow, I don’t repent—
Let the cursed wind shred my intent.
Blood on stone, echoes scream,
Shadows feed on broken dreams.
Still I rise, sword in hand,
One lone soul against this land.
Darkness speaks, it knows my name,
But I’ve long outgrown its flame.
No angels cry, no heavens call—
Only echoes—and I face them all.
So light the pyre, let demons see—
In the valley of death, I walk free.
You were there
before memory.
Before voices had names,
before light had meaning
you were there.
Brown as warm bread,
soft as a breath held in sleep,
you waited.
And I held you.
You were there.
Through the quiet nights
where shadows danced on walls
and thunder cracked the sky like glass
you never blinked.
You never left.
Your button eyes
have seen more tears
than the stars above my window,
but never once
Did they judge
You were there.
When the world got louder,
when I got taller,
when toys came and went,
you stayed.
Your seams grew tired,
your fur thinned in patches,
but your silence remained faithful.
You are more than stuffing and thread
you are the weight in my arms
when I didn’t know
how to hold myself together.
You were there.
I’ve outgrown so much
shoes, stories,
even people
but not you.
You still sit on my shelf,
crooked ear, familiar face,
like a small, quiet lighthouse
for every storm that might return.
You were there.
You are still.
And somehow,
you always will be.
What I sing from my chest
Only for ivory keys to hear.
Are the same old words
That cracked lips bear.
That familiar tune that calloused fingers play
Is the one that my own heart aches to say.
I have plucked and I have strummed
But when its my own heartstrings
That are plucked for the masses
Will my soul succumb or burn to ashes?
If a song is played for others to judge
Its worth is no longer for me alone.
My fears replayed as feedback
And my own tune I have outgrown.
When the keys have cracked
And guitar strings snapped;
Is the silence left a rest
Or is it forever prolonged?
I have played my part
And sang my chant
My ear worm finally laid to rest.
Yet a few notes linger in the air
Awaiting the song to begin again.
The road narrows, I have outgrown highways,
any future travelling will be accompanied
to the sound of the echoing boards
of covered bridges.
The past has caught me gazing
into star maps only tomorrow may follow.
Fast lanes have become red dirt tracks,
the 'far away' rushes to be my next footfall,
a landing at the end of a headlong dash
that has led me to consider
a slow meandering pilgrimage,
to the next bend ahead
a place where the unknown curves.
(Writing prompt : Wisdom is not enough to calm your fears)
Dark clouds of insecurity surge with menacing storm severe,
the distressed mind is sucked into the whirlpool of fear,
and swirls helpless within the vortex of noxious peril of gale,
gets divested of the feeling that the fright could be notional.
In times of disaster the journey’s end seems to be the plight,
as the light at the end of the dark tunnel doesn’t appear in sight.
The frightened senses feel the air of hazard in the unknown,
where the debris of hope piles up in the domain of fear outgrown.
Beneath the surface of the illusory mortal perception unclear,
the wise mind tries to build the sagacious images of fear
with the contours of reasoning that the astute insight affirms,
knowing the danger and realizing the risk in real terms.
Prudence may enhance fear, exposing the qualms deep,
but it tenders the skill to rationally control the panic state’s creep.
Wisdom doesn’t allay fear, an artifact of emotion innate,
but provides the acuity of acumen to face it with strength sedate.
having outgrown lower mind crutch ~
thoughts are passé, we learn by touch
our muse comes from the universe ~
with no need for us to rehearse
A kingdom that’s ruled by flights of fancy,
suddenly whimsical has been turned sour;
Peasants facing collective tragedy
being brought to life is leaving them dour;
Afraid to truly close their eyes and see
they all fight the same nightmarish power;
Squeezing into all that they have outgrown
will bravely boost up that childhood backbone.
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