|Shelter Me...HOMEPage 4 of 39 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39)|
|Oh that powerful shelter|
of friends long ago
whose sincere compliments
made everything flow
Now we dodge flattery
and in service we sail
through the storms of the lonely
bright within the veil
So the lightning and thunder
that we see in our brain
sounding out truth
making us seem insane
Now we shelter me home
and we live always dreaming
since we don't dream alone
no we don't dream alone
Posted: 4/19/2008 7:49:23 AM
|The Blue Bowl|
All day long I did the little things,
The little things that do not show;
I brought the kindling for the fire,
I set the candles in a row,
I filled a bowl with marigolds—
The shallow bowl you love the best—
And made the house a pleasant place
Where weariness may take its rest.
The hours sped on, my eager feet
Could not keep pace with my desire.
So much to do! So little time!
I could not let my body tire.
Yet when the coming of the night
Blotted the garden from my sight,
And on the narrow graveled walks
Between the guarding flower stalks
I heard your step, I was not through
With services I meant for you.
You came into the quiet room
That glowed enchanted with the bloom
Of yellow flame. I saw your face;
Illumined by the firelit space,
Slowly grow still and comforted—
“It’s good to be at home,” you said.
~ Blanch Bane Kuder
welcome home, AD........
Posted: 5/22/2008 8:13:20 AM
|it's been too long since a visit has been paid|
but your lines bring me from overwhelmed self
to find a place herein this always loving home
feeling and hearing the reverberating prescence
a fluttering of a hundred thousand angel's wings
i had to light here for a brief smile and a hug
as much to give as to take, without apology
for it is a spirit and heart such as yours
full and veritably brilliantly shining
so brightly i can see you as a beacon
from far shores and through desert dust
could never ever be too old for games
for your eyes and mind see all sides of the facets
as a child full of mirth, yet with wisdom of this earth
how amazing can this be
for two souls so far away
to understand one another
with such clarity and so implicently?!
though you many indeed have washed His feet
annointing them with scented oil
something to flawless to behold
is your perfect loyalty
like a fine and perfectly cut diamond
you as only you can be; uniquely yourself to me
no matter your mood or inclination
your thoughts gleam as summons
of prayer and higher invocation
may your dreams fly as high in skies
namaste mon ami
may your beautiful soul soar high today
Posted: 5/28/2008 10:02:39 PM
|AD, great page! I like all of them, 730 is awesome!|
Posted: 6/28/2008 7:26:56 AM
|Home is the place where there is love,|
The earth beneath and the sky above,
Every room has a life force of its own,
Where memories have been made and children have grown.
The front door has been opened to many a friend,
Welcomed warmly at journey's end.
Taken inside nourished and refreshed,
Their heads embroidered pillowslips have caressed.
Home is the hub of family life,
Where there is sharing in happiness and strife,
Much discussion, the making of decisions,
Planning for the future and many missions.
Through the windows the fields are green,
There's a tree with a nest where some birds have been.
The perfume of carnations fills the air,
They're growing in the garden out by the back stair.
The world at times is a difficult place,
Moving along at a furious pace.
No matter how long or far one may roam,
There is absolutely no place like home.
Posted: 6/28/2008 11:54:06 PM
|I'm runnin' off to grandma's|
You won'y see me no more
She won't make me take out garbage
Or clean my bedroom floor
We'll be watchin' TV
Until the mornin' light
I'm runnin' off to Grandma's
I won't be home tonite
She won't make me eat no vegetables
She'll bake for me instead
I'm runnin' off to Grandma's
You can rent out my old bed
I won't be doin' school work
We'll be busy playin' games
I'm really off to Grandma's
I might even change my name
She always sez she loves me
I can never do no wrong
I'm goin' off to Grandma's
I won't be here to long
Even though she kisses me
And gets lipstick on my cheek
You can call me up at Grandma's
I'll be stayin' there this week
Right now she's makin' cookies
And even apple pie
I'll be eatin' here at Grandma's
You'd better say good-bye
I'm gettin' a lil' sleepy
It's gettin' kinda late
Can you please call up Grandma
And tell her not to wait.
In memory of a great lady
Posted: 7/24/2008 10:41:00 PM
|Always Dreaming ... I had a chance to visit my old high school this past weekend, and oh my ... what an experience standing in a hallway with not a sound other than my breathing ... Thought I'd share it with you ... PC4U|
Forever Holding Hands ....
Worn slick and smooth by millions of student footsteps, the deeply furrowed stairs stand silent, the sentinel of subdued memory.
The highly polished hallway floors reflect light slivers from unseen windows, and share them with adjacent walls, all, without sound.
As I stand in the midst of the deafening silence, an involuntary tear traces across my cheek signifying the track of my minds’ wandering through its’ vast storage of recollected memory of …
I haven’t moved, but memory fills the hallways with sounds of shuffling feet, staccato shouts, laughter, locker doors slamming and the invisible mass of moving and varied faces of classmates swarming about and past me.
As suddenly as they appeared, they are gone.
Again the hallway returns to being just a hallway, the stairs, just a worn group of boards.
It is the presence of my memories that revitalized the area around me. No one will ever feel my exact same memories within this exact same hallway or of these worn old stairs.
I am overwhelmed by a sadness born in knowledge of the passage of entire generations of persons that had traveled up and down these stairs and traversed this very hallway – some of whom I will never see again, and others whom I will only see maybe once or twice more in the remainder of my lifetime.
The school’s stairs and hallway will vanish as all man-made structures will, the memories, too, will one day be gone, but what transpired within this school can not be contained by any boundary created by man.
We have but one opportunity to trespass on the time owned by the ages, and to share the journey with those we call classmates. If we are very, very lucky, those classmates remain with us until we are melded into the eternities, as footsteps of the past … forever holding hands.
Posted: 8/10/2008 9:19:02 AM
|thought you might understand this......sometimes I feel like I'm beating my head against a gender wall....|
got too much sass
to just settle
for your piece of ass
c'mon, test my mettle
I might be brash
but won't be pushed
into anything rash
won't be rushed
if you feel the need
knock those boots with another girl
I can wait, 'cause love's a pearl
when you hurry it along
you start it wrong
and will you ever like me
for my mind?
I'd like to find
the whole enchilada
rolled up in one man
instead I get the sample platter
mind over matter
matter over mind
together seem impossible to find
Posted: 9/10/2008 10:18:06 AM
|somehow methinks the journey was declared|
long before our conceptions had fared
long before sailors were sailing the seas
long even before cavemen grunted on their knees
as humans do what we do do do
or will always do as always been done
da da da
really, the only time i've seen that change
is in one of two very divergent ways
it's either seemed
like awful lots of hard work
sweat and toil, attention to detail
or tinkerbell lightening fast
just like that
snap of the fingers quick
just done, viola!
what of the dead, walking upright
the automaton nonthinkers
zombie machine cyberborg units
running on the fuel of society's ways
or perhaps bound by trends y moda
not forging their own way
the sheep themselves may have it easier
they only have to eat, procreate, and be shorn
hey come to think of it; i know lots of folks like that
the anguish and evil humans are capable of!
this course we're charted upon
perhaps yes, though so far away
we have hearts that are human
so kindred i can only hope we'll stay
the sameness in you... is one i feel in me
makes us somehow know one another
from the beginning more than easily
we recognised in one another
a human soul firstly via words
without nation, color or creed
we're simply complex women with needs
or are we complex women
with simple needs?!
not that it matters
because you are you
and i am me
together as friends
making us now a we
we were meant to cross courses
to make navigating the waters
that much simpler, easier
and fulfilling too
even though our exchanges
are more infrequent, still~
a friend in you Dear...
a very good thing to have
needed to pop in Sweets
thinking of you fondly
for health wellness and happiness
for you and yours
Posted: 9/22/2008 9:21:21 PM
I wear emeralds
In my brain
very nice, AD....sometimes you just blow me away....
Posted: 12/18/2008 7:40:05 PM
|It wasn’t so bad to be dead, I found. In fact it was rather peaceful … until I “came back” to “this side” again.|
The experience most definitely makes one think …I discovered I never understood what I REALLY appreciated … until now.
Now, when I write about “seeing” … it has an entirely new meaning, a genre all unto itself.
The opaque and cloudy have become transparent, because much of it I find now never had any true worth or meaning, and I floundered for no reason save that which I invented.
In a very physical sense, my life has re-begun. And … I’m liking it …
Posted: 1/4/2009 10:48:15 PM
The summer days give way to fall
Albeit it, reluctantly
And leaves gather on the ground
As the summers’ eulogy.
And Fall announces what’s to come
As trees their branches bare
Of last springs’ life they’ve shed
And Autumn fills the air.
Just months ahead is Winter
With snows so cold and bleak
And life recedes within the trees
Their former leaves antique
But just beyond again lies Spring
When life begins anew
And we’ll enjoy that life
As we bid last year: adieu.
|A Tear ... |
Posted: 1/15/2009 4:44:13 PM
|The trickle is felt on the upper cheek, then past the nose, and downward as it crosses the corner of the mouth, then, from the chin, the tear falls.|
It lands, leaving a wet dot upon a cotton sleeve, and then continues it’s demise.
The fading spot that had been a tear, doesn’t convey the original reason it fell, and as it fades it silently screams of it’s origin – lost to all but the originator … and … God.
|Shelter me ...HOME |
Posted: 2/8/2009 11:00:04 AM
|hey darlin', I'm reading about the wildfires in Australia....are you and your family okay? Not sure which part you're from...|
Is it ours to foresee?
who would want to know?
and tow the knowledge
it will end
we don't get out alive
start living, then
or cherish more?
knocks at the door
of the soul
glass half empty
or half full?
|Shelter me ...HOME |
Posted: 2/22/2009 4:33:21 PM
what are sparks
a certain symmetry
a delicious chemical
the uphill climb
in an arc
the tinder for
a tender fire
a secret smile
upon a name
the beginning round
of the oldest game
come warm your soul
against my flame
Posted: 4/8/2009 11:27:31 PM
|The crow is safe from harm|
unlike the poor little devil at your doorstep
I spoke with her a few nights ago
she is building her life
around love and family
fondling the earth with her charm
eyes sparkling with laughter
she is filled and living each word
and gathering it up
on her quilt of life.
As for me I wander from room to room
magically transforming it into some semblance of order
my mother thinks I need a maid
but she could never clean like I do
with the hands of love
awaiting the return of the children
it is almost time for this empty nest
to sing with happiness and girlish chatter
and when I go to bed at night
and cuddle up to the most wonderful man
I feel blessed
he is a good foot warmer too!
Posted: 4/30/2009 1:35:40 PM
|Where was it my trust was lost …?|
What I did to myself …?
No … ‘twas the assassination of dreams by lies of those in whom I believed, and to whom I had given my very being in a gesture of loyalty and love.
Oh, I’ve mended the wounds as best one can, but like a repaired broken vase, the traces of scaring still show in the lost original luster of offering oneself to another without equivocation or reservation.
The most skilled of craftsmen can not ever re-assemble broken dreams.
Posted: 6/16/2009 4:19:20 AM
|why am I here?|
to find something I can't in daily life
an ornament to hang my will on
a precious trophy of enjoyment that sifts
clouds from underneath my salty eyes
no more will be the times that I wait for you
but I'll create lofty thoughts once again
I bleed from 1am to around dawn
cursing never helped the lotus
as memories flood back in
Posted: 6/18/2009 12:12:28 PM
There is no need for forgiveness
Little imp from down under
You make me laugh
With your unique ability
To see the world upside down
I see beauty through your eyes
And a mothering spirit
With compassion and intelligence
You sell yourself short
But I know the truth
I have heard your voice
In jubilation and adversity
We have shared our souls
On rainy nights
And sunny days on the beach
Laughing as the dust hits our eyes
Not blinding us to the absurdity of life
Our lives may be different is some ways
But our love for children and family
We look for answers
To questions no one dares to ask out loud
You lead an amazing life
In the barren folds of a desert
Travel across the universe
To guide your children
And have always been there
Time and again
When I needed an ear
To get me through the darkness
Your days may be shorter now
As the sun has travelled
To my side of the planet
The yin yang
Awakens our dreams regardless
Posted: 7/12/2009 4:05:00 AM
|I sit tonight needing shelter...|
I'm leaving my grampas estate
I sat in the creek this afternoon designing my own tributaries
shifting the water from east to a westerly flow I found my heart dangling below the waters edge and I presumed I would live forever
but as the day wore through with a soothing mist the land I knew as a child was preserved
because I made it so
the shore is only a soft reminder of what grampa left
and in his last days he reminded me to keep the water flowing
to take a huge breath of oxygen just before the lungs pillowed and fought to be submerged
his wealth was in tying knots on burnt baileys at 8pm when the skippers came to the surface
I'm not a fisherman without him
but my tears flow in abundance when I think of leaving this land I made with him
from the rocks lining the entry way
a dumping ground for the concrete that made our city
sweet sounds from David bringing the sax to the creek
and in a mindless surge of courage
I break rules
show the night that sequence
bought from resolve and in the madness I'm calmed
love to hear from you dear
Posted: 7/12/2009 4:34:57 AM
I sit tonight needing shelter...
And everything that flows from it is wonderful! And, God, how it does flow. More than 'mere' words it is like the soft, respectful, longing caresses of your hand on the old man's cheek. You could retire on that line about him tying knots on burnt baileys... but hopefully, you won't!
Posted: 7/12/2009 11:31:54 AM
|thanks from the bottom of my heart for that response; bless you Jer|
Posted: 7/14/2009 4:07:50 PM
| ellllllllllllLLLLOOOOOOOOOO sISTAH! :) |
in this Tree
So damn long
wantin to be...
I never waited
So , I am hatin'
I lost my flashlight
my heart is deflated
I sing a bluesey song
I wake up alone!
Beginnin to wonder if...
I am lost like a child
no goin back
run into the Wild!
Catch yur breath...
and suck...suck it in!
Dance on the table...
cause no ones knows
and time flies!
If today ends up being tomorrow
I realize , there is no other way
I swallow my sorrow
Then I SHINE! :) xo
Posted: 9/3/2009 1:32:06 AM
|I wait patiently for you|
long draws from a square
next to that street light
that has a been hit by more than one mail truck
it reaches inside me and bends time backwards
as I wait for you
smoky steam rises through doors to sewer
painted lines are fading right to left
depending on which direction traffic is flowing
and the damp streets with residue
are slick in the morning
as commuters spin warn tires
past oil, rock and cement
me standing, brooding
waiting for you
patiently for you
my breaker is worn
fiddling with the zipper
I release some body heat into a folded map of downtown
and decide to find you there
in that same little shop that captured me
and connected me to you almost two years ago
when I stopped hurting and started living
in mornings lined with hedges cut in the early
with doors closed I remember that the town sleeps until at least 10
4 hours past my waking
since I have been waiting for you
with pockets in hands and scarves holding my neck with a gentle hug
I wait patiently for you
the broken down shell of a light flickers in the early evening
when you told me you would meet me there
I criss cross traffic patterns and early lights in my eyes and realize that
I'm squinting deeply into a spot on the map that is only accessible through one ways
I wait for you
and as the sky dips down and takes one more yawn of day air
a fiddling man and a cow jump moons as I tilt my head to the heavens
waiting patiently for you to arrive
I brood a bit and pace
with cigarette stains on my writing wall
and black leather soaked in Oregon's rusty rain
I smother the breathe from my lungs into a wisp
that floats to my fingers and warms the tips enough to light another stick and
wait patiently for you
the dark sets in an adjacent sun and the opacity in my eyes is becoming clouded
small rivulets drip from my brow
saline mixes with acid rain
I kick the last burning ember of today into a curb drain
wet tobacco floating with the filter falling off
it drips down below
as I wait patiently for you
I walk to the corner and spit air from my lips that pretends to be someone much younger
and as my boots slosh
I walk home
waiting patiently for you
Posted: 9/5/2009 8:28:57 AM
|hey sista..... I wasn't waiting for anyone in particular....|
the above poem is not personal
I think I need to find somewhere else to write though. Every thread I hit dies..... I think I have a contagious internet spawn disease of misunderstanding.....
thanks for poem message 911 (kinda ironic)
hugs (I think I will dodge out on this place)
39 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39)