AHOY!
It’s not a foregone conclusion,
but a stinging reality: Even porcupines
master love, without making pain
a subsidiary organism:-
Though the pain of love's waves
may froth ashore, waves will recede
and froth will eventually dissipate
with healing evaporation: Leaving a sea
of memories floating on the ocean of life:-
Thoughtfully watered, always keep in mind,
you’re the captain of your soul, and
the blown wind in its sail:- And remember,
though docked and anchored, you can still
set sails for tomorrow—getting ready today:-
Ahoy, Matey! Be in winds of sailing grace:-
Upliftments with You at Heart and in Mind
Hopes satisfied
Dreams awakened
I wish you all the best today
and always
Sacred peace
Clarity of mind
Sound discernment
Wisdom beyond your years
in such times
Avenues to excel in
Delights of worthy sort
Fulfillment in life
and a secure
and confident heart
Genuine friends to share your journey
the capacity to forgive
and willingness to live and let live
Guidance when needed
Answered prayers
with every God ordained provision,
love allowed fruition
May you be endowed and
enriched plentifully abounding
in each fruit of the Spirit
• love
• joy
• peace
• patience
• kindness
• goodness
• faithfulness
• gentleness
• self-control
Patience and protection
and the will to stand back up be
that in any time you so happen
experience a fall in life
An ear to recognize times
for shifts or new directions
Strength and a path led in wholesome pleasantries
Goodness and mercy following thee
all the days of your life. Blessings
________________________________________________________
Thoughtfully dedicated to my loving son...
My heart is empty
But my mind is full
So I have all these thoughts
But no feelings attached
My ears hear thoughtfully
But my tongue tastes tepidly
And the person I was 10 years ago
Well, he no longer exists
I feel like a manic mannequin
Masquerading as a man
Once vibrant eyes have gone dark
And I'm closer to death than birth
I write these words in my head
But they're written by foreign fingers
Lacking the deftness
That they used to have
Everyone thinks you die once
But after all I've been through
I think you die a thousand painful deaths
Before the Grim Reaper comes calling
The vibrancy of the mind fades
An aging body breaks down and decays
Hope transmogrified into one day at a time
But it just doesn't get any better
I feel like a software update went wrong
And erased the operating system
Like when Windows replaced XP with Vista
But it was never quite the same
My heart is empty
But my mind is full
But my feelings are attached here
To fill my empty heart
Swept-up, an impulse
Followed I, last night, a foraging moonbeam --
Having entering my studio from a west facing
Window, looking out onto a frigid lake, hoarding light
And sparse warmth – winter was approaching
No sooner entered, now in hasty retreat
I thought, with all that extra glass
One mere gleam, such wasted inside opportunity!
------------------------------------------------------------
The moon, seeming full though often
Falsely round, as those inflated bellies of hungered children
Bloated with empty water to dissuade the pangs --
------------------------------------------------------------------
Crescent, I would argue, a far more sensitive display --
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The moon may rule our night
The sun may rule our day
My heart yet remains its own, to pass
Or follow thoughtfully every ambient
Ray --
A young man found an object
Unsure if it meant danger.
Here is how he chose to tell
His story to a stranger...
"By the glow of the fire
In the calmness of night
I saw this thingamajig
Twinkling near the light.
So I scooped it up
To examine it, you see.
And it started to whisper
Curious truths about me!
It revealed to me things
That I couldn't express.
My secrets, my desires,
My ideas of success.
My eyes welled up,
Filled to the brim.
I could hear the others asking,
'What's the matter with him?'
So I quickly rose and ran away
Leaving the others behind.
To find out what this was
Needed a scholars mind.
After my long, exhausting search
Can you explain to me
What this thingamajig actually is
Thus solving its mystery?
Why is it that only I could hear
The things it said to me?"
He quietly stroked his beard
While squinting thoughtfully.
"When you've found your truths
You must let it go for someone else to find.
Only the holder can hear it
For it echoes the holders soul and mind."
Family is important. We share good fun times, we share secrets, but keep some. We play games together, watch movies together on our couch, and we joke, smile and agree on a favorite film. We share our great ideas, while we listen to them thoughtfully, and we celebrate our awesome days to one another. It's time we love, remember, laugh about, and scream excitedly about. Family forever and ever, never separating, we stick together. We stick together through tough times, sad times, and silly times. We are a great family.
Pain of Life
Kevin Davis 2025
What can I do to quiet the ache? From the events of my life, sweet memory moves through my mind like a fleeting train, each moment etched in the tides of history.
I see them clearly, lit by golden rays— smiles and laughter echoing in the air. The scent of life perfumes my brightest days, while time slips softly past my gentle care.
Yet even joy unwinds its fragile thread, leaving behind the cool embrace of shade. I ache for the warmth of youth long shed, when hope bloomed in every place I stayed.
Still, I can return from longing’s pull and step into today, where love remains. Though memories sing with a sweetness full, I look ahead through life’s tender rains.
So I take my love, and we anchor near, holding tight as the world turns its rhyme. Life, with its scars, still rings bright and clear— ours to savor in this fleeting time.
Why then this ache, when past and present shine, when joy has shaped my heart so thoughtfully? Blessed am I with harmony divine— a life of love, and love enough for me.
Ordinary people in an extraordinary aurora borealis
What is creativity?
A fanciful hue between renunciation and repudiation that never
fully control whence she recited in your mind ,
fair daffodil you haste away so soon!
Transitory! Seemingly so!
I fancied otherwise! Thoughtfully so!
A Rustam Hudaygulyv
Who could be a pen pal
He does not need to be one!
I was a pen pal, and there is also creativity!
As the ordinary light casts a hue on the brazen clue
In the land of the never
Still extra ordinary lives are also there, simple and soliloquy
A simple humble key to your imagination.
Humbling too!
Lord, set me a table in Byzantium:
not the rose-colored queen of the Bosphorus,
not the city of jeweled liturgies,
but the drain where the scourings of empire collect.
Give me a rough wooden bench
and a goblet of thick southern wine
that smacks of honey and dust
in a tavern on some twisted lane away from the sea,
where a plump dancing girl of uncertain antecedents
clicks the reptilian scales of her castanets,
her gaze weighing my limbs like dubious florins,
while a one-eyed Cappadocian in the corner
thoughtfully fingers his knife.
Lord, I don’t ask for much,
only a fate I can handle.
Cherished moments spent
With your bestest friend a sharing,
Quietly sitting side-by-side,
Thoughtfully, at simply nothing, staring,
Just shooting-the-breeze together
And for each other caring.
To live in abundance and magnify your fortune you must DIVINELY work for it. The far measures of where man will go for an instant magnitude relentlessly disqualifies the thoughts of having abundant control over their own hearts with love and forgiveness. And in addition, the practice of satisfying skin compared to a clean heart, mind, and sinew is thoughtfully illogical. So in result, men must find true value worth more than gold. The treasure that rings so loud but a number undoubtedly and purposefully ignore. For the true measures of the world is written in the best history book known to mankind. The book that shares how to live. The book that shares how to obtain in a righteous way. The book that speaks of the dead and the only ONE to have walked the earth, and as well risen. Therefore, in an always profound and crucial manner it is the responsibility of this world to read, study, practice, pray, and liberate our hearts to The Truth and only Way of Light as we breathe his presented gift of life.
Mentally we rummage through
Our trashcans of the past
Viewing what was worthless
When in that trash were cast:
A milestone magazine we see in there
Worth thousands in “green backs” now
Oh my, if we had known
The things that we now avow.
Mountains of words we wished we’d said
Lying in a dusty, useless heap
Applicable now that time has passed
But … didn’t know that we should keep.
And people’s names we thought were bad
We discarded thoughtfully
But as time passed we slowly learned
Twas we who didn’t see clearly.
Critiques installed in folders bold
Of things we did not approve
Time moved on … we re-assessed
Those things now are “in-the-groove”.
Now we know of judgements made
Before our many years did flow
Were all based on things
We didn’t really know.
Yesterday,
I saw a girl
That looked like you.
It took my breath away.
I wanted to say
To her;
What I long to say to you.
I almost said it aloud;
I love you.
A complete stranger.
I just stared at her.
Later,
In a coffee shop,
On campus,
I saw a young girl
That reminded me
So much, of you.
Her hair, her eyes, Brown,
And beautiful.
The way she fingered her pen,
Pressing it thoughtfully
Against her lip,
Eyes raised to one side,
Head resting on one palm,
Hair, cascading like a waterfall;
Shimmering, pooling,
Onto her open book.
I wanted to be that book.
I wanted to be with you.
For a moment,
I was.
Ceiling spider.
Would you please not bite her?
While she’s trying to write thoughtfully.
Staring out at a tree.
She wants to cry.
The spider doesn’t want to pry.
So he simply works on a web.
But becomes tangled instead.
The spider decides to step on her letter.
He should have known better.
She lets out a shout.
Until he told her not to pout.
He tells her how to write condolences.
In a way that is kind and makes sense.
In fact, he knows a lot.
After his mother died in her cot.
She says thank you.
She’s a little nervous of this spider, that is true.
A spider with trauma, just like her.
She nods, and feels reassured.
Suddenly, there is a tiny sound.
A fly has been found.
The spider says a prayer.
As the fly does despair.
The ceiling spider doesn’t want to eat this fly.
As this fly says goodbye.
The spider sinks his fangs.
Into the fly’s veins.
Ceiling spider.
Who would never bite her.
A woman writing a heartfelt letter.
He knows better.
He crawls back into a crack.
Above the clothing rack.
To eat the remains of his mom, before she decays.
It’s about survival in these dark days.
As if startled awake
from fitfull sleep
Of dreams both cartoonish
Yet with meaning deep
My life having passed
as this very repose
A young woman
Now grand dame all as I dozed
For I must have been asleep
At the wheel
Alternately engaging
disengaging at will
One eightying along I sped through my life seventh decade now coming to pass
How will I cram in
All this life left to live before I run out of gas
Hey you young motorist
Yes I'm talking to you
I once thought of myself
As Immortal too
One day you'll arrive here as
Sure as night follows day
So listen to the words
I am moved to say
Make it count slay regret at its birth
Live fully and thoughtfully for all that your worth
To arrive at destination (well done)
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