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Tag Archives: Poetry
Poem: 63 Today
Your presence was joy to me.
What was joy to you? Was any portion
of your earth time enjoyable? Better
than bearable? Worthy of thanksgiving?
63 today. Each year since you left
I think I know you better than ever
and not at all. Who were you, Terry Ann?
Poem: You So Black by The Song Bird
https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cow6o41NmjE/?igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY= I love this deeply every time I hear it.
Poem: No longer listening
The voice seemed familiar –
its vibration pierced my soul,
breached the dark midnight of my days
in the directionless wilderness of life.
It pulled me, spun me
surrounded and filled me.
The melody delighted me.
Poem: Without Reservation
My efforts have proven useless against your inaction.[…]
I must resist that part of me until you present that part of yourself to me.
Poem: Attention Seeker
Now I understand my vibration
was beyond your frequency
You couldn’t perceive me
beyond the physical appearance
you considered unworthy of your commitment
Poem: This is a test
if you do nothing
what happens
if I do something
or anything
perhaps one more thing
what happens
Poem: Have I ever loved?
Who am I if not A creature created in the Image of love? But what is an image If not a facsimile? Non-original Incapable of being Authentic If love is a reaction to receiving For we love because We have first been loved Then what of the love That was supposed to pour into me?ContinueContinue reading “Poem: Have I ever loved?”
Poem: No Straight Lines
If life isn’t linear Then we’ve already loved Believing time wasted away Waiting for what’s already been If love isn’t chronological Surely there are no regrets Deja vu confirms What’s come and gone Past is prologue to future’s past Reality is never knowing you Even as my spirit calls you home Though we’ve only sharedContinueContinue reading “Poem: No Straight Lines”
Quote: “Parted from me yet never parted.”
Reality is never knowing you
Even as my spirit calls you home
Though we’ve only ever shared shy fleeting touches, my body
Flushes with memory of joys
Yet to come.
How can there be certainty of a future while languishing on a broken path?
Harvest Life 