Poetry dies,
Paint finishes,
Legs get tired,
Voices get stiff,
But our thoughts don’t get rest,
Our hearts don’t run dry.
The human race loves expressing,
But judges others for doing the exact same thing.
Who gets to pick and choose?
Who gets to win or lose?
Ever-optimistic
for fun and games
one may dream
of peaches and cream
and tho' the primrose path
may razz our berries
life ain't always a bed of roses
or just a bowl of cherries
for the latter comes with stones
as has the former prickles
we must pick and choose
which way our fancy tickles
When I look back as far as I can see
through the past of my Earthly memory
I cannot find an absence of belief
or faith in single, loving Deity
I do not know of life without a Lord
hymns on Sundays, singing every chord
However, through a trying adult phase
I turned away on my own proud accord
Although I still believed, I was in pain
Along with ancient anger - Abel, Cain
Temptation put upon Adam and Eve
Then told in Paradise could not remain
I witnessed others select, pick, and choose
particular scriptures that they could use
To back their case, justify, or rationalize
My glowing flame of faith became diffused
Entered theories of physics and science
led me toward Old Testament defiance
In prayer, I now addressed "The Universe"
And on personal God put much less reliance
Exhilarated by Quantum Mechanics
I put on hold mere Biblical semantics
Less literally, I clung to verse of youth
And traveled through a phase of my own antics
Now, when I try to synthesize it all
Everything I've come to know and can recall
It all comes back to Love and Consciousness
Hence, this is where I'll settle ... though Self so small
"If the wind will not serve,
take to the oars."
Let the wind swerve and curve,
not sway the way that's yours.
I'll tell you why—
It's up in the sky,
It's in the salmon that defy
the way the rivers ply.
It's in the trees
that bend, not break.
It's in the seeds
that dare to wake,
to an ancient urge
beneath each stem,
not to winter's scourge
that beckons them.
It's in the season
written deep within,
in the seed of reason
where all seeds begin.
It's in the bees
whose waggle tells,
of fields of trees
with flowering dells.
They never wait for chance
to paint perfect skies,
they trust their dance
more than their eyes.
It's in the web
the spider spins and weaves,
not waiting for storms to ebb,
or calm among the leaves.
For what survives the din
is more than what chance buys—
it's the will that lies within
that always yearns to rise.
"For wandering winds will confuse,
and lose direction;
while your oars pick and choose,
each stroke with intention".
We are all on stage, making our story, building our life, and making our debut.
We thought no one was watching and we were on our own, our stage is here and now, it’s like a book we are creating, every line is ours.
Our stage is ours to create, we pick and choose, we can use anything we choose, some stages are positive and others negative, we all get choices and some get more than others.
We are all on stage, making our film, we are getting ready for our big debut.
Our life story unfolds every day, we make our life better or worse by the choices we make.
We are here by design, we are in this place we call our life, we are all able to pick our paths.
We get to pick our truth, our ways, our moments, all the things that make us happy, we get to live in our ways and make ourselves happy.
So make your stage perfect, love, forgive, grow, and spread the positive around, making the environment improve with each of us.
Lifting prayers to God, today and always.
Love you shine day and night, sending your light into our thoughts.
Spreading your love with words, that sound kind and have some thought.
Like a director in a movie, your words echo with power, like a bird singing near the window.
That try to direct the listeners with the power of your voice, making all think twice, about who is naughty or nice.
Is it love or hate you direct, can it be you just want to catch.
Catch up the light, the power within, to use them up and then kick them in the end.
Sell them to the highest bidder, and let them go at your whim.
Love and light, are so beautiful, please hold them like a glass, and treasure each one with love and care, don’t drop them and break them to pieces.
Loves choose the path of love, and let the birds fly free, don’t cage them forever, let them be, if they fly home to you then it is meant to be.
True love, please even if you say they all belong to you, let them be free to pick and choose.
For in the end, God sees, he will be the one to shift through all of our deeds.
Lifting prayers to God, for all the ones that walk on a road home.
We venture right to the path in which we heavily rely,
we see the distant life and cant find a reason why.
To whats becomes, what we did may never dare to repeat,
the same as we cry softly making it our life as we retreat.
There is hope, there is life, there is pain,
There is also memories, which we cant explain.
Life has taught us strictly all that vision are not clear,
and one by one the worries slowly start to reappear.
I do not forgive but feel sympathetic, for those who tried today,
to kill and devour my motivations and my thoughts on display.
My heart is here, guarded almost too well,
trying to be free but I simply can not tell.
My mind is settling for what is, that never will I see.
I feel refreshed, but quite disturbed for whom i came to see.
Did i picture myself so motivated to learn and love and grow,
or am I living precautionary until the end of this here show?
Picture this, snapshot that stayed,
Confusion and self esteem revamping all thats made.
Once I reset then we shall pick and choose,
the We that we create will somewhow once come true
Photos can be endless.
Photos can be turned on and off.
With phones.
We never have to pick and choose.
With film?
We’d have piles of photos with red eyes and splotches that made us laugh.
Some would be proudly displayed.
While others ended up in the trash.
If we still used film.
We wouldn’t be scrolling and straining our eyes so much.
But these days,
I take a picture of a shirt from the store.
I send it to them in an instant.
I liked that shirt, but never actually bought it.
But now I have to photo to remember it by.
Today I’m thankful for history…
Understanding the history of what makes us great should be taught
as well as the history that does not
For that is the job of history…
what history intends for us to do…
To learn not only from our successes…
but from our failures and atrocities…too
When we erase or alter history
When the true facts we dispel….
When we pick and choose what we want to teach
We make history an atrocity as well.
what was the thoughts inside your head the day you got the news that you was pregnant and right now you gotta pick and choose to have a baby at 15 or just go and abort it? why would you choose to keep me knowing you couldn't afford it breaking my heart every time that I take a look at you cause know I'm thinking bout everything that you can do because of me and can't lie, Mom, it's breaking my spirit the 25th mom I cry every time that I hear it, yeah you got a beautiful soul I know it hurts to see your boy on the go but I can't waste this life you gave me on some jewelry and hoes I gotta get to the goal I gotta make sure you know, yeah that every time that I'm away I only do it for you and when I'm broken I get through it for you and every time I take a risk I'm yelling screw it for you I gotta do what I do long as I do it for you
Rockstar girl I hardly remember, like Green Day I tried to wake you up after September, come to find out you're deceased put my skill in a blender.
We shared some of the highest peaks, I brought the xanz you brought the coke, no holding hands just drugs that we'd smoke.
You'd tell me I'm your dream man like you Ally and I'm Juice...
baby I'm the "XanMan" dont get confused.
me and the grim reaper must have a truce, how did you die when my neck was the one in the noose?
I guess it makes sense with all the drugs we'd abuse. God seems to take the good ones I swear bro pick and choose...
like the ones with the best hearts always the first to lose
Rockstar girl I hardly remember I tried to wake you up at the end of September but the pills take they ain't no lender, guess them pills fake, now you gone forever...
She loved those quiet moments together…loved the rainbow of colors they chose
when Mom would color her nails…and Dad would paint her toes.
It was during these quiet moments when it seemed to her like time suspended.
When she discovered that beauty was in how the colors blended
It’s where she first discovered love…how out of her heart it rose…
when Mom would color her nails…and Dad would paint her toes.
And she was proud when it was her turn…the day she realized she was grown…
when she was allowed to pick and choose the colors on her own.
For she was brought up understanding on what love and beauty depend….
How love grows out of time spent together…and beauty from how the colors blend.
Lessons she and her partner are sharing with their daughter…
lessons silently composed…
Every time one of them colors her nails…and the other paints her toes.
The reason we give it so much verbiage
the reason we give it time
The reason we search the light fantastic
the reasons left ill defined
The reason the choices finally matter
the reason we pick and choose
The reason we leave a trail behind us
the reasons we’re not bemused
The reason the voices call within us
the reason the nights are long
The reason each season traps our longing
the reasons both right and wrong
The reason when nothing’s left to answer
the reason no sirens call
The reason we leave the past unanswered
—the reasons we can’t recall
(The New Room: March, 2023)
Oh I remember when I thought
I was in control and could see
Then the Lord showed me
How blind I was not being free
Now that He has opened my eyes
I want to cover my eyes
And just listen to His voice
For mostly everything else
Is a bunch of clanging noise
This is for fun I could not resist this picture
But indeed this is how I feel in the deception
Of all that is going on around us that many can't see
To much division and religions to adapt to mankind
The gospel was not intended to pick and choose
To accommodate the corrupt ways of man
But to separate one from their old self and evil desires
Their lustful hearts and minds,
To be changed with the spirit from Christ
Into a new creation with new mind and hearts
Purified of all impurities so He might reign within
The gospel of Paul living in the spirit
Should be what one shall aim for
To have instilled those thoughts and spirit
But I understand we must all try our way first
Hopefully it does not go so good you become
Your own shrine to give praise
I thought my life was going good
Until I began to read the words of Jesus for myself
Then I was in awe of what's going on
Here they come again to open up my door
To stare at my innards, to pick and choose.
Take the carrots! I yell. Take the tomatoes.
I know they are going to get moldy and smelly.
Why don’t they ever choose the vegetables?
Why do they buy them?
Are they trying to impress the other shoppers?
My freezer is completely full.
Open the freezer! I think, wanting to drop something hard on their toes.
Oh, no!
It is the grandson.
He likes standing inside me, swinging on my door.
Not the grandson! I yell. But no one hears me.
I cringe as my door opens.
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