Posts for June 17, 2017 (page 4)

what are you willing to live with

what are you willing to put up with

what can you not live without

to what are you willing to say no more

what do you need

what will you do with what you have

what are you willing to give

what do those around you need

what can you learn from earth

what can you pass on to earth and others

what is the difference between need and want

what are your joys and how do you deal with those

what are your sadnesses and how do you deal with those

what brings sorrow & regret and how do you deal with those

for what will you forgive yourself and other selves  

how human are you willing to be

will you slip away willingly into the river, soil, or sky 

when your turn comes

“‘I suspect that Earth may be a place of education.’”  Watershed   Tracy K. Smith, poem a day/poets.org  

THYSELF

We rise like blades of grass
out of the earth’s living loam,

tall stalks of consciousness
free to roam,

to seek a path with heart and
follow it wherever it may go,

and for awhile perchance
thyself to know…

“Fuck this, I’m going for a drive”:
Rebellion with a rulebook

                                                     Lucia

The grey page-boy always threatens to slid
over her eye.  You can see her pushing it back.
A capacity for delight, her laugh
brilliant, lighting the white table cloth,
the damask napkins, enlivening all
around her.

Eating only half her dinner roll,
pushing the croutons to the side
of her plate, she can tell stories
to grip any listener.  Humor
predominates–we all love to laugh.

She gets it about mediation,
the specialness of the meditation group.
Little passes her by, from the latest NPR
report, to the Charlie Rose interview–
this acute mind understands the nuances
of Manchester by the Sea, can share her fears,
vulnerabilities as well as deep joys.  She’ll bring
a friend poetry books in the hospital.

Out of all the choices in the distionary,
she knows “unencumbered”
is just the right one to describe
a carefree lifestyle, not burdened
with attachmensts.  Crowds clamber for
her readings and smile with recognition
as her words capture their world.
You can see her with a friend at lunch,
they share with passion what engages
them.  There’s an electric connection between
their heads leaning toward one another
across the table.  Do we only imagine sparks
of energy fly off their heads?

You make the coffee syrup make the tea
digestible make the cookies and cake guilt-
free you keep me from extending my
presence in this world anymore past the
top of my jeans than it already is keep my
tooth sweet keep my tongue pleasant
enough to refrain from screaming curses
at a dull bland pantry but are you worth
the knives in the eye the hammer in the
skull the blinding rainbow sphere-shaped
cubic gatherings of kaleidoscopic neon
are you worth the temporary paralysis
the permanent terror the clusters the
migraines the spiraling stomach are
your charms worth your vices is a little
less me worth a lot more pain?

After a ten-day trip
Messages on the machine connected to my land line
The number I share with the public
The phone I never answer
The phone that receives both wanted and unwanted calls
Messages left and frustrated hangups
Also getting unwanted calls on my more private cell
Not answering unfamilar numbers
Wanting to be accessible but not to everyone
Here’s a thought:  A phone that can detect intentions, both good and bad
An annoying ring tone for unwanted calls
A pleasant tone for welcome ones
The same for doorbells
An obnoxious bell sound for door-to-door sales people and those pushing their brand of “good news”
A warm friendly sound for welcome visitors
Are we already wired with that kind of radar internally?
Maybe we were at one time
But then we got those conflicting messages:
Trust everyone, trust no one
Can’t wrap this one up in a tidy package
So just going to leave it there. . .

Sometimes this happy face I wear is just a mask.

              I am a glass
suffering,  from a break
that has yet to arrive.
Sweep me.