Bouncing ball to play
One child sees much brighter day
And what should we say?
Yes, be like the child
Just carefree and fun and wild
And yet meek and mild
Leave behind the fray
And, oh, go the child’s way
And for awhile stay
Jesus once said that you have to become like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, for the Kingdom is made of children. Perhaps, then, we adults need to learn to grow down?
On November 29th I began a seven-day poem with one stanza, and committed to adding one each day thereafter for seven days. This is the final result of that seven day poetic journey:
Seven-Day Poem
You intrigued me by being intrigued by me
As I wondered, ‘how can this possibly be?’
Am I to have another ‘she’ in my poor life
And will it be but another knife to my soul?
Now part of my heart feels young once again
As I begin to ponder all of the possibilities
But reality attacks and smacks me in the face
Reminding me of my actual place in this life
I am not really old but I am growing old
And though my heart is warm, my body is cold;
And I have not the strength to chase rabbits,
Or to form new habits or weather the storm
But you, you would shove all else aside for love,
To drink deeply from the rich cream of full life,
To fulfill your most cherished childhood dreams,
And no team of strong stallions can tear you away!
You deny reality staring you straight in the face
As you pace back and forth considering the worth
Of a bond newly birthed in raw desire unearthed
Never thinking we’ve nothing to give for this to live
But roses still bloom in season for good reason,
And then their beauty fades, having bade farewell,
And those roses do die and never try to live on and on;
Ah! There truly is propriety in the society of life!
So now, even as my heart dances and soul prances,
Truth lances illusory dreams and advances reality;
What seems so lovely and beautiful is found only
In the crucible of fantasy and is simply not to be . . .
Note: The completion of this poetic journey was first posted on December 5, 2016, and is being reposted now due to some renewed interest as well as for the enjoyment of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!
Sometimes you get hit hard ‘n just feel like crying,
And sometimes even lying in bed hurts your head;
Sometimes you feel like curling up and just dying,
And sighing isn’t enough when you’re truly trying
To do your finest to fight through another life test
When you feel like a unwanted guest in the world
But you stand as tall as you can and give it your all
Even though it seems nobody really understands
And all you get in return are more hard demands
And so you wonder what to do, options too few,
But then you spy pen, pencil, or brush and hush,
For there they all are, instruments for your scars
To turn your pain into some kind of gain yet again
And in turn to bless others and maybe to impress
Something upon their minds and souls to unbind
Them from their own shackles with seeds sown
From your very own life blood . . .
You Are an Artisan
But is it worth it There are streets of gold
Or much better just to sit So we are told by the bold
This trek takes real grit Where there is no cold
The venture is long
And the going for the strong
And many turn wrong
There are streets of gold But is it worth it
So we are told by the bold Or much better just to sit
Where there is no cold This trek takes real grit
Note: Please go to actual blog page to read or you will not get the real effect of this cross-poem. It does not appear in the Reader as it is actually laid out on the blog page! If you are already on my actual blog page, then, of course, disregard this message. Thank you!
Shadows walk with us, sometimes numerous
And often unnoticed, sometimes very clearly,
Sometimes barely visible, sometimes friendly,
Sometimes quite ominous, but always present
Sometimes these shadows come from the past,
Sometimes these shadows forebode the future,
Sometimes these shadows are merely our own,
Sometimes these shadows come from another
Shadows can haunt us and taunt our very souls,
And sometimes strike a cautionary note to us,
But oftentimes they come to call us to recollect
Something long forgotten, before we were born
Yes, the very Ages themselves cast long shadows
That walk with and talk to us, if we see and hear,
And they bespeak the imperfect story of humans,
And they bespeak the imperfect story of our own
Sometimes these shadows come from hell’s pit,
Sometimes these shadows come from heaven,
Sometimes these shadows invoke much terror,
Sometimes these shadows provoke much peace
But always these shadows in our shadow land;
Shadows walk with us . . . yes, ever the shadows
Note: I would like to dedicate this poem especially to my fellow-blogger and friend, Tony Single who, like all artisans (including yours truly), must be a bit of a shadow-walker. Blessings to one and all!
Through an unexpected portal into another world
In the same world yet strangely different somehow,
Not quite like Alice in Wonderland but wonderful
And cheerful and beautiful, serene yet sensational,
You find yourself on an altogether unfamiliar path,
But you can’t turn back no matter how frightening
May be the unknown ahead — the portal is closed
Yet part of you deep in your heart wants to go on,
To surge on forward toward some unknown goal,
Some as-of-yet unseen destination in expectation
That what you find there will be better than where
You were as you are now greeted by Lady Mystique,
And she is quite the sight to see, very real and regal,
Towering above you, inviting you to come forward
Somewhere and you do not know where but here
Is not where to stay, for staying seems impossible,
So you cast a backward glance at the shut-up portal
Then stand ‘n boldly stride forth to new beginnings
You have just come through another open portal . . .
Wash away my stains
With pen and ink is great gain
Redemption no strain
My sins on paper
Misdeeds become like vapor
In poem faults taper
I write them away
Saying what I have to say
And without dismay
Hello friends, followers, and readers! Jyotee (aka “Isolated Girl”) and I have jointly created a new online magazine, or blogzine, called Pax et Dolor.
Pax et Dolar is Latin simply meaning “peace and pain,” the name we chose for this online blogzine quite simply because life is filled with both peace and pain. In the poetry, prose, photography and art work offered here you will likely find expressions of both. Hopefully ~ and it is our aim ~ you will also find unique contributions from a variety of poets, writers, photographers, and artists. And this is where you come in … maybe, hopefully!
We are looking for contributions to all of the above categories (plus one more mentioned below), and invite you to e-mail submissions of prose (please try to keep it to 1,000 words or less!), poetry, photography or artwork to paxetdolor@gmail.com. And, of course, prose can include personal stories, short stories, flash fiction, advice columns, travel articles, etc.
We have also thrown in another category just for the heck of it, and that is: cuisine. Here you might very well discover your next dinner! Or you might very well contribute a recipe for someone else’s dinner! We hope and pray above all that you will at least enjoy your stay at Pax et Dolor and will decide to return … and even follow us! And with that said, blessings to one and all.
On November 29th I began a seven-day poem with one stanza, and committed to adding one each day thereafter for seven days. This is Day Six. (For more info on why I’m doing this, please read my previous article.) So in the end I should have one whole poem with seven stanzas, each one having been written on a different day…
Seven-Day Poem
You intrigued me by being intrigued by me
As I wondered, ‘how can this possibly be?’
Am I to have another ‘she’ in my poor life
And will it be but another knife to my soul?
Now part of my heart feels young once again
As I begin to ponder all of the possibilities
But reality attacks and smacks me in the face
Reminding me of my actual place in this life
I am not really old but I am growing old
And though my heart is warm, my body is cold;
And I have not the strength to chase rabbits,
Or to form new habits or weather the storm
But you, you would shove all else aside for love,
To drink deeply from the rich cream of full life,
To fulfill your most cherished childhood dreams,
And no team of strong stallions can tear you away!
You deny reality staring you straight in the face
As you pace back and forth considering the worth
Of a bond newly birthed in raw desire unearthed
Never thinking we’ve nothing to give for this to live
But roses still bloom in season for good reason,
And then their beauty fades, having bade farewell,
And those roses do die and never try to live on and on;
Ah! There truly is propriety in the society of life!
Note: Thank you to Maja at Business in Rhyme for inspiring me to take up this challenge! By the way, her own 31-day poem is progressing very nicely, so if you haven’t done so, you should check it out! Blessings! For Day Seven, the final outcome, go here!
On November 29th I began a seven-day poem with one stanza, and committed to adding one each day thereafter for seven days. This is Day Five. (For more info on why I’m doing this, please read my previous article.) So in the end I should have one whole poem with seven stanzas, each one having been written on a different day…
Seven-Day Poem
You intrigued me by being intrigued by me
As I wondered, ‘how can this possibly be?’
Am I to have another ‘she’ in my poor life
And will it be but another knife to my soul?
Now part of my heart feels young once again
As I begin to ponder all of the possibilities
But reality attacks and smacks me in the face
Reminding me of my actual place in this life
I am not really old but I am growing old
And though my heart is warm, my body is cold;
And I have not the strength to chase rabbits,
Or to form new habits or weather the storm
But you, you would shove all else aside for love,
To drink deeply from the rich cream of full life,
To fulfill your most cherished childhood dreams,
And no team of strong stallions can tear you away!
You deny reality staring you straight in the face
As you pace back and forth considering the worth
Of a bond newly birthed in raw desire unearthed
Never thinking we’ve nothing to give for this to live
Note: Thank you to Maja at Business in Rhyme for inspiring me to take up this challenge! By the way, her own 31-day poem is progressing very nicely, so if you haven’t done so, you should check it out! Blessings!
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