a sun kissed life

Innocent Lies

2012-03-06T14:01:00.000-05:00

Love leads you to build him up
like a high rise,
build him up and watch him through
rose colored glasses.
Romance reality,
romance the truth.
Your hope an abandoned street,
disappointment awaits like sewer overflow,
like cold sweat in your sleep.
Build him up,
believe the change will come.
The roots to the foundation frail,
will crumble like dominoes.
Believe that you are the one
that will change him and save his soul.
Believe and he will lurk in
and steal your soul when you're not watching.
They say a leopard doesn't change its spots.
Find a new path,
the torn sidewalk will scar your feet.
Find a new path, embrace reality,
walk through a new dream.

Meet us here, http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Outside My Heart

2012-02-28T16:53:00.000-05:00

Tonight the sky is in it's glory,
I feel like I am a part of a Van Gogh painting.
The colors embrace me,
bathe me.
I lie down with the stars,
red, blue, purpule.
I roll from one to another,
the night sky my playground,
and then I think of you.
Dad, can you see the moon
from your window in heaven ?
Do the stars kiss you goodnight ?
Do you ask the moon to come to my door
and wait until I smile,
the way I smiled when you gently kissed
my eyelids at night.
I long for those kisses,
I long to hear your voice,
my soul longs for your embrace.
The moon knows my longing,
she whispers in my ear,
I close my eyes while the moon watches
me fall asleep.

http://dversepoets.com/ Join us where we share our thoughts and our hearts. The painting above is Starry Night by Van Gogh. It's one of my favorite paintings. This poem is for my dad, the man that fed me love and art.

Food For The Soul

2012-02-26T14:47:00.000-05:00

The alley is filled with the fragrant aromas
of sour, sweet and salty.
The smells a silent invitation.
The streets of Bangkok,
filled with mystery,
and magic of the unknown.
A small market, stacked with canned soups,
a quick fix to a tired soul.
His thoughts wander home,
mom dices the potatoes,
shreds carrots,
hovers and tastes,
recreates a soup his grandmother
made him as a boy.
A world away he thinks of the past,
and the present.
His eyes feast at the colors
of red and green curry to soothe the soul.
Jasmine rice,
dishes mixed with
sweet and spicy,
just the way life should be.

This photo is a part of a prompt of http://magpietales.blogspot.com/ When I saw the photograph I thought of how much my son Josh loves my soup. It's a potato soup that my mom used to make for him when he was a child. Then I thought about today, he is 26 and a grown man. Today he left to Thailand on a medical mission. My thoughts are with him, and I feel so proud of him.

Her Needlepoint

2012-02-21T12:30:00.000-05:00

Brother,
life is a journey,
that took us through storms,
and tangled woods,
and dark places.
Remember our home,
warm and loving.
We built forts
out of pillows and bedsheets.
We pretended to be cowboys,
like the ones we watched in the local theater.
Italian western films with subtitles,
starring Giuliano Gemma,
an actor no one remembers.
But I remember his full lips
and dark eyes that drew me in.
I was the tag along baby sister,
that you dragged with you,
as you voiced your protest on deaf ears.
My eyes wide open,
to your mischief,
flirtations with girls
and nonsense talk with your friends,
attempting to keep your secrets.
A cigarette you used as a bribe,
to keep my mouth shut.
You explained french kissing at seven to me,
since I overheard you with your friends.
You lured me into playing cards,
and you won my allowance,
until I got wise.
Simple days,
childhood memories,
a lifetime ,
we have shared.
As we laid mom to rest next to dad,
we shared tears,
our heartbreak would leave scars on our soul.
Home, far away,
across the ocean.
Memories that will remain,
in our hearts,
in our veins,
in the canvas of the needlepoint,
mom stitched called life.

I have two brothers that I love. My older one is eleven years older than me, so we didn't get to share some early memories that I am sharing about my other brother. He is five years older than I am and this is a snapshot of some of our memories. Join us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and our hearts. The photo above is of Giuliano Gemma, the Italian actor mentioned in this poem.

The Call

2012-02-19T15:38:00.000-05:00

http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

He calls from distant shores,

at odd hours,

while the stars play hide and seek,

and wind whispers in his ear.

He calls home from distant shores,

where he finds peace on the ocean floor,

and comfort in the squeal of his rod.

He tells me tales of mosquitoes feasting on his skin,

while he celebrates another catch.

While he celebrates another day.

I hear laughter in his voice,

I can picture his eyes bright.

Long ago they shined,

in carefree summers,

thunderstorms awakened us ,

raindrops on the roof dancing,

romancing us from our sleep.

The phone dies down,

without any warning.

The last sound I hear are wind chimes,

engaged with the wind.

He will be gone another sunrise and

sunset,

then he'll be back in my arms.

My Valentine

2012-02-14T05:59:00.000-05:00

http://dversepoets.com/

I taste the ocean on your lips
as you devour mine.
The wind sings her song,
and runs her fingers through your hair,
but your heart belongs to me.
The waves lull you to sleep,
but you seek the fire in my eyes.
You find life in my desire,
as my heart melts in your hand.
A love note by the bed,
a single rose on the kitchen table,
knowing glances,
melted dark chocolate in a bowl,
a dance through our life.
You read me like a book,
inhaling my pages,
light and dark,
taking them in as your breath.
You carried me through sadness,
through emerald green fields,
through aquamarine waters.
Valentine's Day, every day.
Hard to remember,
that life is fragile,
only this moment promised.
Not always roses or sunshine,
not always picture perfect,
sweet and sour,
sane and insane,
but always true,
always me and you.

Dedicated to my husband, he is my love, my best friend and he is the one that makes me sane and insane.
http://dversepoets.com/meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

We Are One

2012-02-12T14:43:00.000-05:00

Blue skies,
darkness within.
We cross lines,
we cross continents,
and time stands still.
Humanity cries,
but little or no action is taken.
I lie down with my brothers and sisters,
sheltered in their embrace.
We are connected in this vast universe,
under these blue skies.
We are one breath,
we are one people,
we are one.

This is a part of http://magpietales.blogspot.com/

Mid Life Overhaul

2012-02-07T11:27:00.000-05:00

The works,
oil change,
tire rotation,
with a free multi point inspection.
Imagine if there was one
for your soul too ?
Rotate the mind,
oil the bones,
extract the old,
replace with the new,
or is that the mid life crisis ?
A new sports car,
a trophy wife,
one that can't articulate a sentence
if her life depended on it.
She owns knee pads,
and tattoos with his name.
She acts helpless,
while he runs to her rescue.
She will drink him like a tall
glass of water,
and laugh at all his jokes.
His blood pumping,
heart racing ,
age is just a number he claims.
Yes, the works
oil change anyone?

I was sitting on a bench at Ford waiting to drop off our car. I saw this sign and started to write. This was inspired by a conversation I had with a friend of mine about men in her circle of friends.
http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Never Said Goodbye

2012-02-05T14:21:00.000-05:00

She held my heart,
and lifted it to the heavens with
her love.
She died in a foreign land,
all alone.
She could not hear my cries,
she could not feel my embrace.
I was a child,
that carried my grief deep inside.
In my dreams she comes,
glorious as the ocean,
bright as the sun.
When I awaken she is gone.
I can't remember the sound of her voice,
all I remember is her loving smile.
I want to remember the smell of her hair,
I want to remember the softness.
I wish I was there when she left,
I wish I could make her resting place
as beautiful as she was.
I wish I could scatter flowers every day,
so her spirit can dance.
She is far away,
in a distant land,
but in my dreams she comes,
glorious as the ocean,
bright as the sun.

This poem is dedicated to my grandma Ginca. She passed away over thirty years ago in Romania. She was on vacation, she suffered a heart attack and fell into a diabetic coma. I never got to say goodbye to my beloved grandma. She was an amazing woman and I loved it with all my heart.
This is a part of the http://magpietales.blogspot.com/.

Daisy And Her Boy

2012-01-31T11:42:00.001-05:00

Her boy comes home,
she greets him at the door.
Her tail wags as she follows him
down the hallway.
He's been to Boston, Pittsburgh ,
he's been to Washington D.C. and Dallas.
She can smell the cities scents on his luggage,
of far away places she had never been to.
She lies down sprawled
by his bed,
and moans with delight as he scratches
her ears with love.
In the kitchen mom is cooking with love,
sounds of meat seared,
potatoes added,
cumin and garlic,
his favorite Picadillo.
The dish a feast to the eyes,
Carmel colors, better than in the best
restaurants in Havana.
The boy talks about the sick people he helps,
medical missions,
and things that are foreign to her.
She listens to the conversations,
whispers,
desicions,
about places he will go to live.
On his quilt,
she inhales the scent of his pillow,
while she watches them come and go.
She doesn't hunt for a trail of crumbs,
or Milk Bone cookies.
Her yellow fur is turning white,
she wags her tail with gratitude.
She is no longer a puppy,
and he is a grown man.
At the moment her boy is back
and that's all that matters.

http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts. I wrote this poem watching our yellow Lab, Daisy with my son. Her happiness when he comes home is a delight to watch.

Happy 26th Birthday, Josh

2012-01-24T00:00:00.000-05:00

I want to dance on the moon,
I want to write across the stars,
" Happy Birthday Son."
I fell in-love when you were born,
as I held you.
Your eyes followed me,
your finger holding mine.
I sang you words of love
about being my miracle,
my everything.
As you grow older,
my love grows deeper
walking through the universe
holding hands,
our hearts intertwined.
I sheltered you from the storms,
gave you comfort through nightmares,
turned ordinary days into magic.
I fed you books,
I fed you love,
I gave you wings to fly.
My seeds of love,
my seeds of wisdom,
you treasured.
You grew into a man
that follows his moral compass,
a humanitarian,
a dreamer.
You gave me life,
you made me whole.
You are my bookend,
you are my world,
you are the love of my life.

Dear Josh,
You are an amazing man. When I had you I was 24, younger than you are today. I knew that you were my everything and that I wanted to be the best mom possible. We have shared a life filled with happiness and sorrow, but we always had eachother. I am so proud of the man that you are. You touch others everywhere you go, because your kindness and compassion shines through. I love you forever.

http://dversepoets.com/ Join us where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

I Choose To Live Today

2012-01-17T14:15:00.000-05:00

My leaves Emerald green,
my branches open like wings,
my roots deep and solid.
Take a seat and rest in my imagination,
bathe in a kaleidoscope of color
and winding roads.
Yesterday I was chained to the past,
imprisoned by memories of long ago.
Today I embrace blue skies,
delight in the day,
savor the moments.

http://dversepoets.com/ Join us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

A Slow Death

2012-01-15T16:03:00.000-05:00

The mask covers her face,
creasing her beauty,
unforgiving.
Oxygen hissing like a venomous snake,
or is it my brain in a bubble of doubt,
questioning life and death,
questioning everything.
Crackle sounds,
she is drowning
and I can't save her.
A life preserver nowhere in sight.
I feel it on my skin,
I feel it deep in my being.
There is no beauty to
how she hangs on to life
on a frayed string.
The sun enters but I hide in the shadow,
I don't want the sun to watch me cry.
She melts into the bed,
and I wonder if she is dreaming of her
life and love.
I want her to stand on the shore
and wave goodbye.
I don't want her to struggle
as she drowns.
I come undone,
with every sound,
with every moment.
I come undone
as I watch her die.

The picture prompt at http://www.magpietales.blogspot.com/ made me think of a different drowning. My mom passed away in August 2009 and I watched her drown due to congestive heart failure and complications that went with it. Sitting with her in hospice those days and watching her suffer was heartbreaking. I felt so helpless. I still shudder when I think of it and my heart will always ache for my mom.

A Humble Hero

2012-01-10T14:19:00.000-05:00

The kitchen is flooded with light.
Sun dancing on the walls.
I hear familiar footsteps,
and his sweet voice,
" mama when I grow up can you give me
the recipe for chicken cutlets."
My son's face eager,
his eyes shinning.
My mind drifts,
my voice trails,
" it's not just a recipe, it's about love."
I answer.
Memories of my grandfather,
a tower of strength,
an inspiration.
In the ghetto he cooked for the enemy,
he smuggled food,
he saved lives.
Sharing what little he had with others,
so they can survive the disease and hunger.
My grandfather was caught,
beaten,
thrown out of a second floor balcony.
He was left to die but he didn't .
He never spoke of his pain,
he carried it within.
He survived the war,
a hero humble and true.
Years later in his sunny kitchen restaurant,
he stood,
varicose veins mapped his legs.
Large hands pounding chicken cutlets,
his strength towering,
not missing a beat.
Cooking with love was his life.
At times on sunny days he seemed grey
and I wondered if the sounds and smells
seeped back in.
I wondered if the echoes remained.
In this moment I look at my son
and I smile,
" it's not the recipe, it's about the love."
Little boy with veins rich with legacies,
filled with pain and courage,
rich with survival of the human spirit.
Generations linked,
legacies left,
love passed through time.

This is dedicated to my grandfather Nathan. He was a hero and a force of nature. He was honest and kind and he fought for what he believed in. He had courage and pride. This is also about my son, asking me about the recipe. His legacies are rich with history. On one side he has a great grandfather that saved a train of children during the Armenian genocide. On My side he has a great grandfather that saved family and friends during the Holocaust. http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and hearts.

The Pain Never Leaves

2012-01-03T12:36:00.000-05:00

If I uncover my pain,

will you soothe my soul?

If I show you my scars,

will you touch them?

Will you join me

down the brick wall corridor,

colored with despair.

The smell of stale air

and urine.

A grey haired woman

holding a doll while she weeps,

"it's mine" clutching for dear life,

repeatedly voicing her fear,

"it's mine".

Her eyes glazed seeking redemption,

seeking what she has lost.

The elevator has a code

to enter and to leave.

The corridor like a highway of lost souls

and broken dreams.

A woman wearing ripped clothes ,

licking her fingers,

ice cream covered her face like a blanket.

My brain numb,

my heart pounding,

I didn't want to leave mom there.

I planned an escape,

if I could only lift her

on my shoulders,

to take her home

where she belonged.

They claimed that she will walk again,

in this rehab hell hole.

I wanted her to walk,

I wanted her to fly.

She blended in,

I was scared for her,

I was scared for me.

I could no longer breathe,

the cries I heard were mine,

as I was breaking inside

into a million pieces.

I didn't want to leave her,

I wanted her to fly,

away from there.

I walked away

a shadow of myself,

with shattered pieces of my soul.

http://dversepoets.com/Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

I should have added a note with this. I wrote this about a time my mom was in a horrible rehab place and I was feeling despair at the situation. My mom passed away in August 2009, but the pain remains. I question decisions that we made and I always wonder if we could have done more. The other day as I reflected on the new year and life, this poem spilled out. The pain is still there. I wrote about her passing many times, so I took it for granted that most of you know. Sorry about that.

A New Year

2012-01-01T20:56:00.000-05:00

The tree stood still,
the lights twinkling ,
waiting for a new chapter to unfold.
We feasted on the lobster plates,
I bought long ago for a night like this,
filled with gratitude for our children,
for our life.
Savoring the moment,
we sang songs off the iPod shuffle,
while drinking champagne.
The television on mute to rock & roll eve
in New York city.
Commercials bombarded on weight loss
and exercise equipment.
Our dog waged her tail as we danced ,
we laughed forgetting words to songs,
we knew long ago.

Stars in our eyes,
sweet alcohol on our breath,
knowing that
tomorrow lies here between us,
as your arms lace into mine.

Happy 11th Birthday Daniel

2011-12-28T07:43:00.000-05:00

Your feet dangle,
out of the blue Spiderman quilt.
The room is quiet,
but magical
as my heart dances
while watching you sleep.
Your bunny tucked under your arm
even though you are older,
even though you are wise beyond your years.
You walk through life
with conviction,
extending your generosity to others.
Your sweetness touching those
you love.
A little boy living and dreaming big dreams.
I linger in your room,
I inhale the moments,
storing them in my heart,
wanting this to last.
Giving you wings,
to follow your dreams,
with hope that you never fly far.

My sweet Daniel,
You are 11 today. It seems like yesterday you were born and you brought so much joy into our life.
You are an incredible human being. You are kind and generous and you give of yourself to others. You are funny and you are thoughtful. I tell you every day how much I love you, and adore every moment we spend together.
You make me proud and I love you forever!

Happy Holidays

2011-12-23T22:35:00.000-05:00

Wishing all of you Happiness and Peace during the holidays and always!
Magical moments and wonderful memories!

Rain

2011-12-20T06:02:00.000-05:00

Rain rolled on my lips,

stealing a kiss like an old lover.

Jealous you watched with regret.

Into the universe,

I sent

a thousand paper ships,

lined up like soldiers

with your name written

with my blood.

The echos of my voice calling you,

carried by the wind,

followed them on the journey.

This Christmas,

and every day

I give you my heart,

don't put it on a shelf to admire.

Don't put it in a box to keep,

don't hang it on a wall,

to watch it bleed,

to watch it fall.

I give you my heart,

the rain watches,

jealous with regret.

http://dversepoets.com/Please join us where we share our thoughts and our hearts. I wish all my friends Happy Holidays, and may the new year be a great one.

No Pain In The Rain

2011-12-18T07:41:00.000-05:00

The raindrops showered me,
I stood there while they embraced me.
I wanted each drop to be,
like the tears I shed inside.
It was after my father died,
I knew the rain can't hurt me,
or cut me,
or leave me to bleed.
The pain was greater than
any I have ever known.
He loved me,
even though I didn't listen.
Even though I was a rebel.
I was a warrior that lost the war.
He knew,
but he didn't say a word.
He knew but he forgave,
because he loved me with his heart and soul.
He kissed my eyelids,
and my soul would flutter.
like the wings of a butterfly.
He knew I lost my way,
but he stretched out his arms,
to catch me while I fell.
I wept when he died,
sorrow existed in my days and nights.
He was a lover of life,
so I crawled out of the darkness and pain
and I lived.
Slowly allowing sweetness to seep in,
allowing myself to breathe again.

the above painting is by Tera Zajack, aka olive hue designs and over at dVerse brian miller is hosting a wonderful poetics prompt for us, featuring an interview with Tera and some of her work. Join us there!

Mask The Pain

2011-12-13T17:24:00.000-05:00

No rhyme,
no reason.
The young man claims to be Tupac ,
he claims to be Jesus.
Eleven to seven,
a third of a life,
on the night shift.
No rhyme,
no reason,
the snakes followed him,
to the Emergency Room.
There is no judgment ,
only acceptance.
Mental illness does not discriminate .
It's an equal opportunity lover.

http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

A Potato In His Pocket

2011-12-06T13:05:00.000-05:00

The grey haired man walked,
a potato tucked safely in his pocket.
The past was his constant companion,
his heart longed for his homeland.
The tapestry of his life woven
by threads of pain and strength.
The grey haired man,
was once a boy that lived across the ocean,
persecuted for his religion.
His mother was murdered,
left bleeding by her infant son.
The infant grew into a brave boy,
he saved a train of children destined to die.
He jumped off the train,
and pleaded with the American soldiers,
to listen to his plight.
His picture was published
in the newspaper.
A hero,
the boy wearing only a tattered men's dress shirt.
The boy with dark bright eyes,
he ran like the wind,
with the will to survive.
His voice rose with courage,
his determination,
brought salvation
to all those children that day.
The grey haired man,
never quite forgot,
the taste of grass he ate from the ground,
escaping to the mountains to stay alive.
He never forgot the hunger,
the potato in his pocket tucked away,
the potato in his pocket a source of comfort.
The past his companion,
all the days of his life.

This is dedicated to my husband's grandfather, Antranik Sheshedian, a survivor of the Armenian genocide. We have a framed photograph of the picture that was published in the newspaper, the day he saved the train of children by urging the American soldiers to listen to him.

http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

How

2011-11-29T12:57:00.000-05:00

My veins are rivers
carrying pain.
I hurt for you, my friend.
4.74 degrees of separation between us,
tap into Facebook's largest social network,
and it reveals itself like magic.
That what I know is true,
we are all connected,
you and I.
The woman in the Congo raped and beaten.
The man in Ohio that can't buy groceries for Thanksgiving dinner.
The child that was abused but there is hope
in his heart.
How do I reconcile my desire with the feeling of despair?
That I can't save all the drowning
people in this boat.
How do I live with the passion,
only to feel the anguish,
that I can't carry you on my shoulders,
lift you to a safe place,
give you the dreams that you buried long ago.
How can I reconcile the desire with the inability,
of how vast the need is.
Trying to solve a puzzle,
that pieces have vanished to,
that pieces will never fit.
There is no harmony,
there are no simple answers.
There are band aids
but there is no cure.
I want to reject the notion that things will never change,
I want to remain firm and true
to my need to resolve.
My friend, the burden must be shared by all.
To rise from lack and emptiness to a better world.
My veins are rivers,
carrying pain.
I hurt for you my friend.

http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

A Moment Of Gratitude

2011-11-22T11:35:00.000-05:00

Our days filled with chaotic wonder,
magical moments,
and moments of despair,
happiness a balance of sorrow.
Flower petals open,
the earth is kissed by the rain,
unlock your heart.
Live with gratitude,
the sun will whisper in your ear,
the evening stars will guide you home.
Plant seeds of kindness,
and your soul will dance.
Follow your bliss,
but don't abandon others.
Breathe,
feel the unity with the universe,
live your truth.
Live with gratitude each day.

http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our heart. I want to wish all of you a happy and safe Thanksgiving.

The Peace We Make

2011-11-15T11:54:00.000-05:00

A dove flies down from the heavens,
she sings a song of peace to those who listen.
Forget the games that people play,
men with power in their ivory towers.
They have forgotten how to dream,
how to inspire.
They have their hearts under lock and key,
burdened by the harsh reality.
They sweep the issues under the rug,
while making false statements,
and empty promises.
People wait for answers that never come,
they wait for the substance truth carries.
Open your palm and feed the world,
open your arms and shelter.
Evil flourishes when there is no action,
evil flourishes when no one is listening to the cries.
When you look the other way,
when your belly is full,
it's hard to imagine one that's empty.
Crimes against humanity take place every day,
while we wait and sleep on it.
The dove carries a twig in her beak,
an olive branch.
The dove dreams of peace and so do I.

http://dversepoets.com/ meet us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

Rose Jelly Made By Rose

2011-11-11T07:34:00.000-05:00

The glass jar clear and fragile,
like memories it holds of yesterday.
Road side wild roses awaited her,
on the way to Shinnecock Bay.
Dark red petals with intoxicating scent
Her spirit joyous, her hands gentle,
she made jelly sweet with love.
Grandma's hands, grandma's voice, grandma's grace.
The glass vessel clear and fragile,
summer recollections whisper of framed snapshots.
Hidden away in a dark cupboard,
twenty one years she's been gone,
yet the glass jar remains sealed,
saved memories timeless, honored and cherished.

This is dedicated to Nevart Sheshedian. My husband's wonderful grandmother.
He has shared countless memories about the great spirit that she possessed. This week he was tempted to open the jar . He wanted to taste her rose jelly once again. The jar is frozen shut by sugar. He was afraid that it would break. This inspired me to write this for Six Word Fridays where our word for this week is saving. Meet us here http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/2011/11/11/six-word-fridays-saving/ to read other offerings.

Words I Had Forgotten

2011-11-08T11:30:00.000-05:00

I traced words on leaves,
with my fingers and my toes.
I scattered them in the orange grove,
and watched how they were swept into the heavens.
The fields nearby were Peridot green,
inviting and unassuming,
I knelt down,
wishing the scars would heal,
and I can find them once again.
The sun shined with regret,
attempting to console my emptiness.
The wounds of life led me to abandon
the words I love as I buried them deep inside.
Poetry, my old friend,
you found me while I played hide and seek
with my words.
While I wrote them on napkins and receipts
and tossed them away.
Poetry you found me in the ocean,
on a moonlit night,
the tide was rising,
the fish were biting.
You found me and I could no longer hide.
I had forgotten how you heal me,
how you awaken my desire,
how you let my soul dance outside my body.

.http://dversepoets.com/ Meet us here where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

The Game Of Life

2011-11-01T11:36:00.000-04:00

Dust settled on the chessboard,
the queen and king no longer dance,
through the square green patches on the board.
The gardens are silent with sadness.
The little boy waited for them to awaken
and play hide and seek with the knight and the bishop.
He dreamt,
his mentor gone.
He remembered the wisdom taught,
the lessons of defeat ,
and the triumph of victory.
His grandpa's wisdom,
about the art of living.
His instruction of the game,
his kindness.
The boy became a man,
as he reached for the stars,
as he jumped over the hurdles of life,
he whispered under his breath, " checkmate. This one is for you grandpa."

http://dversepoets.com/ Join us at the Pub where we share our thoughts and our hearts.

The Battle

2011-10-25T11:37:00.000-04:00

Monday afternoon,
a storm came brewing,
unannounced,
uninvited.
Cancer came knocking on the door,
it wasn't Halloween yet, so cancer didn't wear a costume.
It was a visible mountain nestled in his thigh .
The man had lived lovingly each day,
with light in his heart.
He didn't squander his treasured health,
on bad habits,
or negative thoughts.
Cancer came knocking at the door,
and life changed.
Does cancer know that he will fight
with the light the shines within him?
Does cancer know that he will conquer the battle?
Cancer does not know,
but I do.

My cousin's husband was diagnosed with cancer yesterday. Prayers would be appreciated. So many of us have lost someone to cancer or know someone that is fighting for their life trying to win the battle.
Join us here http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our thoughts and hearts.

Revolution Of The Minds

2011-10-18T12:25:00.000-04:00

Polite conversataion,
over dainty teacups,
dancing around the issues of our time.
They talk about hair,
and wrinkle cream,
reality shows and the weather.
They have no intrest
in hungry babies,
nets for malaria,
or crimes against humanity.
I don't want to dance this dance,
do I make you uncomfortable ?
do I challenge you today ?
I won't apologize,
I won't refrain,
I won't hold back.
We are all connected,
we must face the music.
We must grasp the challenges
of the world outside ourselves.

Meet me at the Pub, where we share our thoughts and our hearts.http://dversepoets.com/

Somalia's Footprints- Blog Action Day

2011-10-16T17:13:00.000-04:00

Footprints in the sand,
refugees seeking life,
they walk in the desert miles and miles,
to find water.
Malnourished children,
food is a luxury they dream of,
childhood is another.
I hear their voices in the desert,
a scorched landscape
is their world.
On the wings of hope they walk,
leaving footprints in the sand.
They struggle in silence,
they struggle with grace.
In our world,
I watch neighbors squander water,
sprinklers run as flowers wilt.
I think of a nation with footprints in the sand.
Can you see ?
Can you feel ?
Will you stand for action ?

My friend, Brian Miller brought it to our attention that today is Blog Action Day-Thank you, Brian.

The Salvation That Is Yoga

2011-10-11T13:10:00.000-04:00

The dark room is
filled with light,
filled with energy,
moving through the room.
The fly on the wall,
watches us as we move in unison.
As we reach an inner peace,
filled with gratitude to the universe.
Our instructor spreading seeds of knowledge,
words of letting go,
words of connections to one another.
Letting the ego dance outside our bodies.
The knowledge that we are perfect as we are,
the love of acceptance.
She scatters the seeds,
and we collect them,
our spirit blooms,
a ray of sunshine follows us home.

Come join my friends and I at the Pub, where we share out thoughts and our hearts.http://dversepoets.com/

Why Not?

2011-10-07T17:12:00.000-04:00

The wind sighs with heartfelt pain.
Tears are falling across the continents ,
mourning an innovator, mourning a dreamer.
His journey out of the box,
change the world today, why not?
He followed his dreams, his gut.
His words, " stay hungry, stay foolish."
Chasing dreams, making them a reality.
His journey an inspiration to all.

Join Melissa for Six Word Fridays, Today we are doing-why not?
http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

The Waterlilies

2011-10-04T12:28:00.000-04:00

In my dream,
the layers of fog engulf me,
waterlilies dancing on the water.
They sway gently ,
as time marches forward.
Dad,
when I looked at Monet's waterlilies,
I imagined you there with me.
You would stay beside me,
as we would lose ourselves in the
beauty of the moment.
You would inhale it,
the way I did.
We would take it in slow breaths,
you would tell me about his life,
his love,
his passion,
because you would know.
Dad you were,
a lover of life,
a lover of beauty,
a poet,
a dreamer.
You never lost the hunger to live,
and love.
In my dream we reunite,
and I weep ,
I want to stay in your arms.
I want the dream to last forever.

Come join us at
http://dversepoets.com/ where we share our poetry and hearts.

How To Make It Count

2011-09-30T10:36:00.000-04:00

Color your canvas with purple stars,
color the sunrise with bright orange.
Make your life count every day,
live with intention, live with purpose.
Speak your mind, without seeking approval.
Lend your voice, lend your heart.
If the question is how to ?
I would think and then say,
Open your branches and embrace everything.

Join us at Melissa's Six Word Fridays, the challenge today is " How To "
http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/2011/09/30/six-word-fridays-how-to/

The Starfish Graveyard

2011-09-27T11:33:00.000-04:00

Sweltering summer day,
sweat beads dancing on my skin.
We enter a starfish graveyard,
at the Key West souvenir shop.
I hear the ocean moaning,
whispering with regret,
whispering of loss.
On the ocean floor they frolicked,
on the ocean floor they lived.
Long ago,
my love gave me a red and orange starfish,
from the ocean floor.
We gazed at it with wonder,
and we set it free.
I hear the ocean mourning,
and I mourn the life and death,
the beginning and the end,
of all living things.

Come and join my friends and I at
http://dversepoets.com/

Modern Pace

2011-09-22T21:08:00.000-04:00

The light enters through the window,
my heart captures a magical moment.
The sun bathes me with love,
for a moment my spirit soars.
Modern life a fast pace journey,
our time misspent, we seek balance.
Pieces of ourselves scattered here, there.
We juggle days, we juggle lives,
we run and chase unattainable dreams.
We need to look within ourselves,
climb out of the walls of
our heart, to receive our desire.
To find peace, to find love,
leave our fingerprint here and now.

http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/ visit my friend Melissa at six word Fridays, it's a lot of fun!

The Jewel

2011-09-20T07:25:00.000-04:00

She is the jewel of Miami Beach,
she stretches like Sunday morning.
Her glory in her navel,
she dazzles as her gems
adorn her.
Saturday night,
short skirt wearing,
high heels Jimmy Choo,
cookie cutter crowds,
desire to enter her womb.
Desire to lay in her inviting arms,
as she sighs.
Her crescent shape seen Elvis and Sinatra,
she held their secrets as she whispered in their ears.
Over time she has grown more beautiful,
I remember her when we were young.
I remember a gentler time,
when the wine lasted,
through the night.
As we waited for tomorrow to be ours,
we watched the world go by.

Note: Saturday night we were at the Fontainebleau Hotel in Miami Beach, to celebrate my brother's birthday. I couldn't help but notice the changes in the building and in the crowds waiting to enter and enjoy the nightlife. The surprise birthday party was amazing and it inspired me to write this.

Connect

2011-09-16T13:41:00.000-04:00

The stillness of the morning soothing,
a time to reflect and breathe.
We connect on Facebook and Twitter
but somehow we find ourselves disconnected.
One day melts into another day,
chaos and to do lists emerge.
Surrender to the waves, don't resist,
let them sweep you to calmness.
Surrender to your heart and listen.
Don't run through this wonderful life,
live it, watch the leaves turn,
let the butterflies kiss your lips.
Let the light shine and inspire,
don't squander your days away aimlessly ,
open your hear, let love in.

Finding My Way

2011-09-13T11:20:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

I lay in your wings,

your voice was my music.

I inhaled your words,

as my breath.

I gave you my heart,

as my soul lay naked in your palm.

My sunflower died the other day,

just like something died inside

of me, when I came undone,

when I lost my voice,

when my dream began to crumble.

I was no longer nestled in your wings,

I was falling,

I was holding,

I was waiting,

for you to listen to my cries.

We Remember-Ten Years

2011-09-10T19:35:00.000-04:00

I saw her in a magazine,
I read her words,
" he would have liked me",
she said.
Her eyes deep ocean blue,
filled with infinite sadness.
The necklace she wears,
has his image,
like the image she carries in her heart.
She never met him,
her hero,
her father.
He died that dreadful September day,
the day the world changed.
I wish I could embrace her,
and tell her that he would like her,
that he would love her,
that he watches her with his angel wings.
I wish I could tell her that we remember
that day,
that we would never forget,
that we feel her pain,
that we carry the pain,
like a scar in our soul.

Ten Years

2011-09-10T07:25:00.000-04:00

September morning,
strong, dark cappuccino sipped
in fragile cups.
Good Morning America on the television,
our newborn slept soundly,
our high school age son was sleeping too.
Then in an instant,
nothing felt the same.
Shattered lives,
shattered dreams,
images branded in our mind.
Hollow sadness, despair, tears flowing.
Ten years later,
our thoughts laced together,
endless conversations,
about this moment.
A moment of sacrifice ,
a moment of pride,
a moment of to unite us all.

A poem I wrote in May that my friend Leslie said I should re-post for the anniversary of 9/11. Thank you, Leslie.

Moved

2011-09-09T07:00:00.000-04:00

http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

Your words spin, I stand still.
Your words move me, lure me.
Unwrap me with your tender kiss,
taste the watermelon on my lips.
I bathe in the sun's rays,
summer waltzed in and now departed,
fall seducing like a new lover.
I left home so long ago,
lift me to the sky and
I will kiss the clouds above.
I left my red galoshes behind,
I left my books home unattended.
I embraced an armful of dreams,
as I moved across the ocean.
Finding a new life and home,
my heart moves with eternal gratitude.

Reality

2011-09-06T15:21:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

She stormed in,
"I just saw an amazing bumper sticker." she said,
" Buy American the job you may save is your own."
Bold letters etched in my memory,
that was twenty five years ago.
A dialogue among friends began,
twenty five years have passed.
The market saturated with cheap imports,
seduced by low prices,
the dialogue continues.
Like the seasons the world has changed,
like a marriage that's come undone.
Attempts to stimulate the economy
have fallen weak.
The middle class disappear,
the poor bleed,
dreams shatter.
We wait to be romanced by politicians ,
but there is no poetry in poverty,
there's no humanity on shutting the doors to
the crying need.
We are left hanging, waiting for answers,
that just don't come.

Last Year In Rome

2011-09-05T08:56:00.000-04:00

Paris In June

2011-09-04T18:07:00.000-04:00

Escape

2011-08-30T13:34:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

Inhale,
exhale,
she says.
Her voice calm,
like stars floating in the night sky.
Her energy fills the room,
the breaths fill my lungs.
My spirit dancing,
om,
shanti,
peace.
My thoughts wander to
colorful peace signs on my notebook.
I wander back,
the waves wash over me,
I am in the ocean,
the soothing wind playing through my hair.
" no judgement", she says calmly,
and I melt into the moment.
Peace,
quiet,
my mind wanders,
like a cast at sea.
I reel back my thoughts into the present,
feeling lighter,
feeling gratitude,
feeling peace.

Easy ?

2011-08-26T16:25:00.000-04:00

Every week on Friday we meet,
six word Fridays is not easy.
Melissa is our host with grace,
she is a mom, writer, friend.
She welcomes with an open heart.
We weave and we spin tales,
we encourage and we inspire friends,
through the joy, throught the grief,
we share our thoughts and dreams.

Mom's Journey

2011-08-23T14:35:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

Limencello in my chilled white cup,
the taste of sorrow,
sweet seduction.
I sip and I remember.
He held me,
as we walked,
behind mom to her final
resting place.
Prayers said in the background,
the voices drowning,
in the cries of my despair.
In the silent night,
we could not sleep,
consumed with grief and jet lag.
We drank Limoncello,
and we looked through the windows,
of our past,
the links of our life,
big and small details.
A brother and a sister,
surrendering to the ache in our soul,
inspired by the past,
to carry on.

This week is two years since my mom passed away. I miss her every day.

Blue Heaven, Key West

2011-08-19T10:10:00.000-04:00

We walk through puddles in rain,
streets of lost and found dreams.
The raindrops dancing on our skin,
our flip flops wet and squishy.
We search and unexpectedly we find,
the charming, casual, Blue Heaven restaurant,
whispering tales of young and old.
The outdoor courtyard enchanting and inviting,
inside we escape the steady rain,
roosters roaming outside, inside lovely ambiance.
We wait and receive our desire,
Key lime pie with delicious mountain
of meringue, indeed a visual feast.
Sweet taste on our lips lingers,
feeds the body and the soul.

Father And Daughter

2011-08-16T14:48:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

Father to daughter,
he wrote her a story,
about a horse that broke his leg.
The published story was left behind,
in the attic of her childhood home.
Tattered and yellow,
small black print,
she longed to see.
She wondered if her father saw,
that she was broken.
She wondered if he saw fragility,
in her big brown eyes,
and he wanted her to be whole.
He wanted her to know that some wounds
don't fester.
Like the horse in his story,
all things are possible,
when you dream,
when you love.

Trial And Error In August

2011-08-12T08:07:00.000-04:00

We are cradled by gentle waves,
writing our names in aquamarine water.
Low tide, high tide, slack tide,
the chum rings the dinner bell,
rods standing, waiting for the challenge.
Are we using the right bait?
Are we at the right place?
We sing songs we have forgotten,
there's a flow, there's a dance,
we cast, and then we wait,
we learn from trial and error.

Anchored Here

2011-08-09T16:42:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/2011/08/09/open-link-night-4/

The sun hovers low,
like a helicopter parent.
The ocean glistens,
from the light.
Lobster pots decorate the water,
like berries on a flat pancake.
Bridges of yesterday,
erect in my mind.
Play, rewind,
the chatter is loud,
even though I am anchored
in the moment.
Even though I am grateful for today.

Speak Truth

2011-08-05T07:25:00.000-04:00

Thoughts scattered like visions in dreams.
Hard questions that are buried deep,
past errors suffocated and silenced away.
Politicians guilt us into feeling dirty,
throwing crumbs on our paper plates,
a bitter morsel hard to swallow.
A detour, confusion, and more conversation.
Speak up, speak loud the truth,
is the only communication we desire.

To Be Human

2011-08-02T08:12:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

Umbrellas zigzag through
the rain.
The beauty of these Paris avenues
not lost on us.
She says, "I feel like a herd of cattle."
I laugh as I take it all in,
" I feel like a butterfly."
We walk in and out
of museums
filled with wonder,
trying to breathe in some humanity,
into our veins.
As we inhale the timeless art,
drops of our spirit,
seep back into our core.

Sweet Dozer

2011-07-29T10:04:00.000-04:00

http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/

He slipped past the virtual fence,
the sun rays calling his name.
The leaves swayed in the morning,
the marathon runners were passing by.
Adventure in the air, he followed,
lured by sounds and friendly people,
he ran to the finish line.
A dog with an important mission,
University of Maryland awarded a medal,
Marlene and Stewart Greenbaum Cancer Center.
Dozer is a celebrity on Facebook,
raising money for important Cancer research
a sweet soul, inspiration to many.

Broken Wing

2011-07-26T15:34:00.000-04:00

http://dversepoets.com/

My wing is broken,
my voice still clear,
but I can't fly.
The light floods the room,
with honey tasting sun,
but it's dark.
Light dances while,
I hide in the shade.
The past is my companion,
whispering in my ear.
My legs move,
but they can't run.
Tears trickle inside,
like a broken faucet.
Outside I am blank,
until I hear sweet footsteps,
"mama", and then I smile,
even though my wing is broken.

The Word Is Love

2011-07-22T08:51:00.000-04:00

http://melissacamarawilkins.com/blog/2011/07/22/six-word-fridays-love/

Magical words were written about love.
Love is it's own special place.
Love is intense in it's emotion.
It courts us and sweeps us
off our feet into a storm
of a tornado in our minds.
I confess that love is everything,
love is my religion, my world.
Boys I love more than life,
they are my universe, my everything.
Love is the words we speak,
love dances in our four walls.
Loves whispers in the morning leaves,
love screams with red fire passion.
Love, not easy it needs attention,
to stay alive, to allow growth.
Love is not perfect but beautiful.
He knows me like the tides,
the fire burns in my eyes.
He makes me sane and insane.
I confess that love is everything,
it's the kaleidoscope of our life.

Colorful Bricks

2011-07-19T10:23:00.000-04:00

Mom,
in bed,
I watched how you melted into the
white sheets.
The room was bare except
for monitors instead of art that you loved.
When you opened your eyes,
my heart ached,
the twinkle was gone,
the lines of your face disappeared.
Swollen from your body,
shutting down.
I touched you,
containing my tears.
I opened the album,
attempting to show you pictures
of a journey we took
to Legoland in Billund.
Colorful bricks,
that for a moment brought you a childhood
you never had.
You watched happily your eight year old grandson
lose himself in creating art from imagination.
" mom remember",
I begged,
wanting you to fight to live,
wanting your smile to return.
You nodded your head,
and closed your eyes,
weak,
fragile,
tired.
I held the album,
colorful bricks,
won't bring you back to me.
My soul wept
because it knew that you surrendered.
My soul wept because it knew that I lost you.

Compliment Paid

2011-07-15T06:49:00.000-04:00

He met brilliant Doctor Paul Farmer,
the founder of Doctors Without Borders.
He met the exceptional Maya Angelou,
her voice heard and listened to.
" Who is your hero? ", they questioned.
And he answered, " my mom is".
I felt humbled by his words.
He paid me a wonderful compliment.
I raised him alone,single mom,
for the first years of life.
He was my world, I , his.
I fed him love and books.
I nourished him with my heart.
I was his fan and cheerleader.
He says I know the details,
the wonderful pieces to his puzzle.
He says I sacrificed and struggled,
and I say it was easy,
because I love him, my son.

Unanswered Questions

2011-07-12T13:27:00.000-04:00

If there's no heaven,
where do we go ?
Our souls in search of a home.
I heard he died the year I was born,
I wondered if our souls crossed one another.
If he had lived,
would he write a blog,
for all to comment,
on his brilliant words.
Would he share tales of Marlin fishing,
drinking and loving.
Would he speak of despair ,
and deep sadness within.
As I reel my fish in,
salt ocean on my skin,
the sun dancing in my eyes,
I think of this.
If there's no heaven ,
where do we go ,
our souls in search of a home.

One Year Blog Birthday

2011-07-09T22:16:00.000-04:00

I just returned from a three day trip to Chicago that was a celebration of a birthday milestone for me.
I am also celebrating a one year birthday of my blog. When I began this journey, I did not know where it will take me. I was working through feelings of grief that were difficult after losing both my parents. I found an outlet to write once again. I also found a community that was supportive and wonderful. I want to take a moment and say thank you for the friendship you extended to me here. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. I am grateful for the support. I am excited to continue this adventure with you.
Thank you !

I Eat Seeds

2011-07-05T08:51:00.000-04:00

"Who eats seeds", he asks.
"Birds?", he questions.
As I hold the bag,
his eyes watching me.
I want to say that maybe I was a bird
in another life,
and that is why I love the sky and ocean.
I smile,
because if I was a bird ,
I could fly over rooftops,
resting on windowsills while
watching the world go by,
nature's reality television.
" I eat seeds", I answer.
I hold the sunflower seed bag proudly,
still smiling .
I drift away,
I was eight,
holding mom's hand
in a noisy street in Tel-Aviv.
At a shop full of barrels,
filled with seeds and nuts, dried fruit.
The smells of pistachio and almond
intoxicating.
Armed with the bag of delights,
we would head on home.
Friday night,
I would soak in the conversations,
on books, politics, and life's wisdom.
As I listened to dad and friends,
I would taste the seeds,
I would taste life.

Dare To Be

2011-07-01T08:36:00.000-04:00

Peer outside the window of life,
walk through the door of mystery.
Seek not the things in reach,
how else would you touch life.
Dive into it's sweet and sour,
abandon the safe and the expected.
Walk through the thunderstorms of life,
armed with your honesty and grace.
Leave yesterday behind to live today.

A Corner In The World

2011-06-28T10:17:00.000-04:00

At the age of two he knew,
life was not perfect.
As we walked into our new house,
the smell of fresh paint,
held us in a cloud.
I watched him moving
his fort and soldiers,
his face beamed.
This was our corner of the world,
the nightmares would not seep through,
these walls.
I would not let them enter.
For years I held secrets,
in a bottomless purse that I carried.
As he grew,
he scattered them,
as if they were seeds,
allowing them to be free.
As the bubbles came up from the deep,
we rose above,
and began to breathe.

What If

2011-06-24T08:00:00.000-04:00

If I had not seen you,

my heart would not flutter like

a butterfly trying to court you.

If I had not seen you,

my eyes would not capture you,

their fire burning bright from within.

It was October many moons ago,

I ached to taste your lips,

I inhaled the words you spoke.

Where do you think we'd be

if I had not seen you.

Our secrets would have remained untold,

our voices would have been silent.

You rescued me from inner storms,

I wiped away your inner tears.

Our ordinary life, days to remember.

Summer thunderstorms in the Florida Keys.

Our canvas blue vast oceans.

Reels singing a sweet song.

Raising boys into good men.

Where do you think we'd be

if I had not seen you

that October day so long ago.

Battles

2011-06-21T11:53:00.000-04:00

Soldiers in the window,
colorful, untouched,
works of art.
I think of you,
when you were a boy
and history was your world,
a part of you,
like your pulse.
A part of your passion,
your grandpa surviving the holocaust,
fueled your desire to learn
the pieces of the puzzle.
The motives,
the moves,
like the game of chess you both played,
respectful opponents.
His arms like wings,
sheltering you ,
yet his words hard with truth,
your mind vast
and hungry.
Now a man,
you heal people.
Still famished for truth.
You see the price of war,
my boy no longer dreams of battles
he has grown to dream of peace.

Kind

2011-06-17T06:59:00.000-04:00

Fingerprints are one of a kind,
our contributions and visions as well.
Walk in the shoes of another,
on a path unfamiliar and unknown.
And you will understand their choices,
the light doesn't shine on everyone.
Are we born kind at heart ?
Or is there a textbook lesson?
Do we learn from our life?
Question and follow your moral compass.
Be kind to those you meet.
Smile and your soul will sing.
Live your truth, live it well.

On The Way To Paris

2011-06-14T11:06:00.000-04:00

A modern day knight
in shinning armor,
for his country.
His official passport wallpapered
with truths untold.
At what cost,
his family?
his soul ?
Saving lives but not
his own.
He dreams out loud of fishing
with his boys,
a snapshot of their life.
His voice trails,
"I lost my family" he said,
defeated,
silent.
Focus the eye on the prize,
but the prize is gone.
It belongs to a man sleeping
with the wife he loved,
raising his children.
Time awaits for no one,
the price was paid,
as the smell of war lingers,
in his senses.
The smell of burnt bodies seared into his memory.
The pain of young fallen soldiers,
he masks the pain,
but I hear it loud and clear,
sharp as a knife ,
the words scar my soul.

Joy

2011-06-03T06:39:00.000-04:00

Dance in the flow of life,
fragments of who we were yesterday,
the joy of who we are.
You extend yourself to the universe,
you understand the plight of another.
Your words are kind with understanding,
a simple deed brings you peace.
There is a joy from within,
interpreted to many in different ways,
some find it by saving souls,
others find it in self indulgence.
Joy is simple and yet complicated,
it's sharing a bounty of fish,
it's sharing your heart with someone,
it's drifting and dreaming ocean blue,
it's home with boys I love,
their voices dancing in my soul.

Hypocrisy

2011-05-31T15:19:00.000-04:00

Evil can wear a charming smile,
and speak delicious words,
that feel like rose petals.
Hypocrisy is dressed in fine disguise,
in many forms.
You point your finger,
lecture on your mind,
moral values anyone?
Have you forgotten
the skeletons in your closet.
Dusty since you abandoned them.
They come out,
while you sleep ,
dreaming of the life you lived.
Let your words be silent as the skeletons
begin to stir and dance.
Rise above the insecurity of your soul.
Speak the truth, for once.
Resist,
discuss,
be who you are meant to be.

Remembering Heroes

2011-05-30T07:22:00.000-04:00

The little boy asks
about heroes long gone.
The tree shades him and sighs.
The tree has witnessed tears shed, silent tears,
raging tears,
for lives lost.
The flag flies in the wind today,
red white and blue,
in their honor.
The flag whispers tales
of heroes known and unknown.
They had courage,
they had vision,
they sacrificed,
for our freedom.
I wonder if they can watch the parades
from heaven.
Front seats for their own funerals,
as the ground weeps when they are laid to rest.
We need to remember them today,
and always.

Alone

2011-05-29T08:57:00.000-04:00

http://onestoppoetry.com/

Free and chained,
your soul rises,
your soul falls.
You long to take a breath,
the taste of air brushing on your lips,
as the wind touches you.
Softly, lovingly,
seducing you,
to find the will to live.

Your Jacket

2011-05-27T07:11:00.000-04:00

In my closet away and unseen,
your jacket navy blue with pinstripes.
So handsome, when you wore it.
Your jacket is saturated with tears,
tears I have wept for you.
I long to hear your voice,
I long for your glorious smile,
the poetry you read to mom,
your dancing in the living room,
singing to Demis Roussos beautiful songs.
You were my lighthouse at sea,
the star in my vast sky.
Happiness was knowing I was safe.
My eyes could not hide pain,
they could not hide from you.
You were there with your love,
you live in my heart forever.
I treasure the memories I have,
I treasure the life we shared.

Lend A Hand

2011-05-24T10:30:00.000-04:00

http://www.biggerpictureblogs.com/

http://www.chenzmo.com/wordpress/wp1-admin/

Can you lend a hand,

can you understand,

the sorrow ,

the devastation,

in Joplin.

Lives lost ,

souls wounded.

The storm came with a fury ,

dark and howling.

Unforgiving it wiped away

homes,

memories,

mementos treasured,

now gone.

Lives that forever will remain silent,

conversations around the kitchen table muted ,

baby albums lost in debris.

Look outside yourself today ,

embrace someone else.

Hope remains,

can you lend a hand,

can you understand,

the sadness in Joplin.

My friend, Alita is asking for help from our blogger community. I provide her link for anyone that wishes to help in any way.

Live

2011-05-23T09:40:00.000-04:00

Thirst for life,
only this moment granted.
Dive into the ocean,
before you welcome summer.
The chill of the water will awaken
your dreams.
The chill of the water ,
will awaken your desire to live.

A Charmed Life

2011-05-20T07:02:00.000-04:00

A sad day on the news,
the moneyman accused of vile violence,
the movie star's double life revealed,
the terrorist 's message beyond the grave.
Envied they had a charmed life,
skipping through puddles without getting wet.
Leaving behind victims and broken hearts,
victims that need to overcome calamity,
their desire to survive this day,
picking up the pieces of life.

Balance

2011-05-17T11:04:00.000-04:00

We walk the balance beam,
juggling days,
as if they were not numbered.
The rat race,they say.
When did life become a race?
And when did we become rats?
The spirit asleep to reflection,
the spirit numb to the moment.
When did happiness become something
that we need to learn?
Multitasking,
one eye open,
mental fatigue.
Technology affords us play,
instant gratification,
we are seduced by it.
We fail to breathe in our moment,
lost and gone,
our moment wasted.

Sweet Memory

2011-05-16T07:59:00.000-04:00

Hold on to me,
I will shield you from the rain.
I will listen to your laughter carried
by the wind,
across the bay,
across the water.
Hold my hand,
I will shelter you
from the wind,
we will breathe in the evergreen,
it will be like Christmas morning ,
when your eyes are wide,
filled with sparkle,
and wonder.

One Day

2011-05-15T08:43:00.000-04:00

http://onestoppoetry.com/

One day we'll be gray,
living on an island.
Our children,
our grandchildren will come,
and share our love for the ocean.
A love for all the peace it offers.
You will tell them about the acrobatics of the Tarpon,
how he got away from me one summer day,
in the Florida keys.
When the water was crystal blue,
when I was young.
You will tell them
how I didn't rest,
until I caught another.
How my spirits soared,
my hands trembled,
as I kissed him goodbye.
There will be laughter,
good food and wine.
One day we will
be gray,
you and I.

Wisdom

2011-05-13T14:19:00.000-04:00

Life is the tapestry we weave.
Our journey filled with lessons learned.
We scatter seeds of knowledge retrieved,
passing them lovingly to our children.
Teaching them to break the chains,
of generations that came before them.
We love them so they can,
We guide them so they will,
rise above the ordinary and seek,
embrace the challenge calling their name.
Wrap your arms around the need,
patience will change a life today,
helping someone will bring us enlightenment.
A blanket of wonderful good will,
a desire for a different journey.
Wisdom will come, wisdom is welcomed.
Seize the moment, seize your life.

Sweet Nothings

2011-05-12T08:33:00.000-04:00

You don't whisper
sweet nothings to me.
You said I am ,
your mother,
your father,
your sister,
your best friend,
your everything.
My love wraps you like a blanket,
it keeps you warm.
I am your ocean,
I am the dolphin,
jumping up to greet you,
I am the fire in your soul.
You don't whisper
sweet nothings to me,
but you said I am,
your mother,
your father,
your sister,
your best friend,
your everything.

Modern Fable

2011-05-10T20:39:00.000-04:00

The fable lives
in your mind,
in my mind,
we all have a fable we believe to be true.
The terrorist believes he's a freedom fighter.
The thief believes he's Robin Hood.
The addict believes he has no control,
and tomorrow he will.
The faithful believe they are kind,
while they claim non believers are going to hell.
The hunter believes he helps nature
through preservation.
The celebrity ego believes that he is humble,
that he's no different than the guy next door.
The husband believes he loves,
even though his words cut like a knife.
The fable lives,
in your mind,
in mine,
we all have a fable we believe to be true.

Forever Love-Three Years Today

2011-05-10T06:43:00.000-04:00

It was a joyous celebration,
a graduation,
of my son.
I waited four years for this
proud moment.
I imagined sitting at
Duke University Chapel,
watching the sun enter magically
through the stained glass windows.
That week, I felt like I could not breathe.
My being was in an unexplainable fog,
detouring the happiness I was feeling.
At the airport,
as we waited for the flight,
the cell phone rang.
I thought it was a congratulations call
from my brother.
His voice was heavy and dark,
as he told me our dad died.
He took a nap and he never awakened.
That was today,
three years ago.
I have cried an ocean of tears,
the dance of my life never the same.
My dreams saturated with pain,
my being forever longing for my dad.

Your Name

2011-05-09T09:54:00.000-04:00

Your name known,
to the President,
to the beggar in the street.
Your name known,
by authors,
by artists,
by politicians.
Your name known,
for your good deeds,
for your struggles for other people's needs.
Yet, you left it all
to go to another land,
to become unknown,
and invisible,
to keep us safe from war,
from grief.
You gave up what you love,
to keep us close,
to hold us in your open heart.
We remember you,
a giant of a man,
flawed but filled humanity, filled with dreams.
Tomorrow is three years,
since I lay next to your lifeless body,
I put my face next to yours,
aching for your shinning eyes to open.
I have missed you every day,
I have not forgotten,
I will always carry your name.

Missing Mom

2011-05-08T08:22:00.000-04:00

My drawer holds your scarves,
my drawer holds your memories.
I touch them,
all the colors delight me,
like the kaleidoscope of our life.
They are like a summer day,
they are like dancing in the fresh cut grass.
Silk, cotton, soft,
magical.
It's a melody you sang,
it's love that you gave,
it's a part of you.
I long to touch you,
I long to hear your voice.
You are gone,
but I feel you
with me,
beside me,
wrapping me softly in your arms.

Yesterday

2011-05-06T06:40:00.000-04:00

Yesterday the sun smiled upon me,
the stars danced to my gaze.
The failures were a stepping stone,
the struggle was overcome by strength.
Unanswered questions fueled my immense curiosity,
extending my branches into the world.
My fighting spirit alive and spirited.
I am not blue about yesterday,
the memories stored in my mind,
gratitude that my soul was lifted.
I could not predict today's gifts.
Drink from my well of knowledge,
erase insecurity from your inner critic,
today live life to the fullest.

A New Life-Nephew

2011-05-05T07:07:00.000-04:00

I welcomed you
with a smile.
My heart trembling,
my eyes filled with tears.
New life
that connects us.
Little angel,
you have a new slate,
to make your mark,
to dream out loud.
I wonder if old soul
is in your spirit.
I wonder if you are someone
I loved before
as I love you this moment we meet.
When I look into your eyes
will our souls recognize ,
rejoice,
reunite.

Today

2011-05-03T19:53:00.000-04:00

Today our flag sways in the wind,
red white and blue.
The sun is shining brighter,
the air feels sweet on our lips.
Our neighbor waves,
his smile wider,
a bounce in his step.
Today is not about slippery, approach with caution,
politics and policies,
separating us.
Today freedom is bittersweet,
yet sweeter than yesterday.
The pain remains,
the pain lingers,
but for just a moment we feel safer.
There's a unity,
there is pride for the brave,
men and women in uniform.
Today hope is restored,
today we can dream
once again.

Ten Years

2011-05-03T06:51:00.000-04:00

Holocaust Remembrance Day

2011-05-02T07:00:00.000-04:00

They lit torches,
names were read in
observance of those gone.
Cries are rising from the earth,
ashes scattered,
fragments of humanity.
Sixty six years since the liberation
of Auschwitz-Birkenau,
Sixty six years since other liberation's,
the pain throbs,
of unspeakable truths.
You asked me to never forget,
those days of your life,
your childhood robbed,
your faith shattered.
Today I remember,
the lives lost,
the lives saved.
Today I remember those silent,
and those that chose to help.
I remember
you rising above the pain,
to survive,
to thrive, to live, to love.

Last 24 Hours

2011-04-29T05:04:00.000-04:00

The last twenty four hours devastation,
fierce swirling clouds across the land.
Violent and unforgiving, the tornadoes blind
to the innocent, to the weak.
Injuries and death, crushed lives everywhere.
Homes folded like unglued cardboard boxes,
debris flying, strewn like colorless confetti.
I weep to feel their heartbreak.
I hope for a better tomorrow,
a tomorrow that will heal them,
a tomorrow that will bring peace.

Tides

2011-04-28T05:48:00.000-04:00

The tide went out to sea,
it took a part of me.
The salt I tasted on my lips,
were of my tears becoming one
with the crystal blue ocean.
The hours passed,
the hours flew,
I watched the tide return.
The tide whispered of new promise,
the waves danced on my bare skin,
my spirit nourished,
my spirit healed.

Lessons

2011-04-26T19:14:00.000-04:00

I can not teach the lessons
that I learned.
I can not gift them as
my legacy.
I can share
and you can listen.
Young minds
dive into life,
eager for answers,
eager for inspiration,
by the paths that you choose.
As you seek,
as you search,
I will hope that your lessons
are gentler than mine.
I will hope your scars
are not as deep.
I will hope that your struggles,
are not as fierce.
I will wish you wisdom,
peace,
and love.

Doubt

2011-04-26T08:10:00.000-04:00

Doubt is a poison
that is a storm in your soul.
Clarity is the treasure that you seek.
Close your eyes,
free your mind,
free your soul.
Doubts no longer
chain you.
Do not surrender to the noise in your head
let your thoughts dance,
let your thoughts create,
let them just be.

Decision

2011-04-25T08:45:00.000-04:00

Obstacles in your journey,
decisions to make,
is fear seeping inside?
Breathe.
Unanswered questions,
a bit of confusion,
your mental process.
Breathe.
There are bridges you will cross,
to unknown places,
to challenges.
The answer is inside you,
if you stop to listen.
The choices are yours,
not mine.
The world awaits you with grace.
I await you with open arms.

Blessings

2011-04-22T09:23:00.000-04:00

We count our blessings with gratitude.
Our vision of the world varies.
We whisperer good wishes for others.
My heart dances in a song.
Brown eyed boys that are kind,
brown eyed man that loves me.
The walls that keep us warm.
Health we can't take for granted.
The journey that is called life.
The freedom that our land has.
The choices that belong to us.
I wish blessings for the afflicted,
I wish blessings for the weak,
I wish the darkness to lift.

Gone

2011-04-21T06:21:00.000-04:00

Years fleeting,
days lost
from our memory.
Moments retrieved
from the depths of
our soul.
This life
gone in a blink.
Our laughter silent,
all that remains is how we lived ,
and how we loved.

Within Your Heart

2011-04-19T19:27:00.000-04:00

Within you,
a vast ocean of possibilities,
endless,
filled with doubts and unanswered questions.
Which way should I go ?
Which road should I take?
It whispers in your ear,
like the tides, highs and lows.
I tell you
reach deep inside,
and if you follow your heart
you could never be wrong.
It takes courage
to follow a dream.
Sometimes it takes courage
to stay where you are needed.
Do not trade your life,
for the life someone else dreams for you.
Dream with courage,
love with might,
when you choose what path matters to your soul,
passion will find you,
all the days of your life.

Broken

2011-04-19T06:49:00.000-04:00

Broken,
the wind has seeped inside my heart.
The memories drift in and out.
I hear your voice,
inside my head.
There's an ache inside my soul,
the scar is open,
it's bleeding.
I long for you.
I miss home,
walking through the door
into peace and chaos at the same time.
Mom would welcome me with an embrace
and dad's eyes would twinkle with love.
The smell of baking,
the smell of holiday cooking,
stuffed in my senses,
all the smells of my life.
The memorial candles are lit tonight,
as I whisper words of love.
In my dreams your wings carry me,
to you,
when I awaken I try to scatter seeds of happiness.