I faced the demons of my past,
only upon myself, judgement I cast.
To clear to clean, and to understand,
the true workings of my hand.
To grow, to flourish and to shine,
as I now make the present mine.
Only in the moment, I choose to live,
only of myself, judgement I give.
To keep God alive, and upon His throne,
to keep my heart from turning to stone.
Each one I faced, I also overcame,
with all its sorrows, hurts and pain.
With this knowledge and wisdom, you see,
from the demons of the past, I am set free.
To be able to see, to know and to understand,
the true workings of our hand.
Sticks and stones will break your bones, and words destroy the heart,
the truth reveals our wrongs,
and shows us how to start.
Hate me slate me or berate me
call me names it's all the same I don't care
to my mind it's no more than
hogwash simply put just hot air
the proclivities of others
I don't judge
and their predilections
I won't begrudge
I live and let live
as I too do have mine
but tresspass on my territory
there's where I draw the line
tho' non-violent
step on my toes
and believe you will receive
a black eye or bloody nose
You speak to me of sticks and stones
I recall you tossing me aside
Who am I without my God?
In stillness I fall
Quiet screams tear out of my mouth
Broken and afraid I cling to shadows
Under the sun I sought my Father
With joy I found him inside my shell
Deep inside of me you are a light
Water for my thirst
Refuge for my times of trouble
I found you in my mirror staring back at me
Your eyes behind my eyes
Your breath behind my breath
I open my hand touch the glass and know you are inside of me
You are my salvation in you I find peace
you
may of heard iT said,
"sticks and stones may bReak my bones,
but word's will never hUrt me."
buT
the trutH is,
"STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES,
BUT WORDS CAN KILL ME!"
A rhino's eyesight is really myopic,
Perhaps that's what makes him so misanthropic.
His hearing and reflexes, though, are sublime,
He can turn on a nickel and stop on a dime.
The projection that grows
On the end of his nose
Is not really a horn, though,
As one might suppose.
And when he needs scratching,
There's another small hitch,
His legs are too short
So he can't reach the itch.
He's ugly, pugnacious,
Rude, and unsociable,
And his manners at mealtime
Are simply atrociable.
And should you insult him,
He'll never reveal it.
His hide is so thick
He prob'ly won't even feel it.
Sticks and stones
May break your bones
But a broken heart
Can tear you apart
"Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me",
I would shout out loud
with tear-streamed eyes
and sniffles that would choke me.
"sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me",
a saying I always stuck to
when in an argument
I find myself losing.
sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me.
Not because I'm stronger
but you will never know me enough
to hurt me verbally.
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but words will never hurt me
or so I said, proud and bold
as I let your words enslave me.
Sticks and stones will break my bones,
but words may never hurt me.
Undecided I would tell a lie
to keep up the game I'm playing.
"sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me"
A vow I thought I would uphold
but failed so miserably
Yet I believed I was stronger still
than any needle your tongue may throw
but the needles changed to arrows as I let my circle grow
All the tears I couldn't hold in
would tell a different story
that sticks and stones may break my bones
but words leave a scar unnoticed.
He gathered flowers, petals which felt like first rain,
“She loves me; not” his heart in strain,
Relentless plucks, his hope at test,
Until the final petal indeed whispered, “yes”.
While in the forest she roamed, mustering her tone,
Carefully and with good measure picking up each stick and stone,
Her purpose and dreams were clear,
For in the forest’s embrace she was overcoming her fear,
Destined to meet at the meadows their paths to align,
Both displayed their treasure, intentions benign.
Yet when he saw her’s, he fled in fear, from their dream, her call, abandoning it all.
Leaving behind a spinster in solitude's bitter thrall,
Who just wanted to weave her homely call.
Sticks and stones can break the bones of them or me or you,
but words can never hurt anyone, unless they allow them to.
Whispers soft as the wind,
Eyes see, ears alert
But no one hears
Lips move, eyes bulge
Fingers point, hearts beat
Words cut sharp like a knife.
Tears fall.
Anger sprouts.
Happiness fades.
Every single face puts up a protective shield.
Every face neutral.
Every eye dry.
Every mouth closed.
But on the inside,
Every heart’s warmth dies.
Every pulse quickens.
And every soul falls deeper into the dreaded sea of sorrow.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words always hurt me.
only sticks
the bare will be
covered up soon
leaves that will bud
come alive
and make me feel
young again
2/27/2023
circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems
his foundation flows
around my ankles
flooding ‘tween the trees
baubles of aquamarine
circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems
paradise soaked with many suns
storehouse of spinnerets
orange, yellow, blues
shining, twinkling, twirling
those leggy-legs
brown and skinny twigs
in swamplands of serenity
soaking up the sea and sun
circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems
my mind in wonder -
ivory pearls, like roots,
surrender to the soil of wafting sea
my pinwheel irises whirl
swoosh in waters?
climb vainglorious bark?
play with the suns?
the artist tempts me with his brush
circles within circles
harmony of sticks and stones and gems
8/17/2021
Sticks and stones
will break my bones
but names will
never hurt me.
When times get tough
and I'm alone
your love will
not desert me.
5/24/2020
So many souls have now lost their way.
They search for the answer but their ego will stay.
They slowly regroup and gather up stones.
So many glass houses divided by zones.
Grown men and women partake in such shame.
Pointing a finger and casting out blame.
Look at yourself down deep from within.
Is this how you want your end to begin?
Self-reflection and hate, oil and water.
Is this an example for your son or your daughter?
It’s time now to think, you reap what you sow.
Do you want to keep casting these sticks and these stones?
did you ever
feel as if
you've something
in your shoe
never
buy
yak
socks
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