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16.5k · May 2015
Don't Give Up/Don't Give In
Sjr1000 May 2015
When your mind is shattered
Your eyes are blinded
There is pain everywhere
you go
Don't give up and
Don't give in

When the wheel of fortune
is stuck at 6
No hope remains
Don't give up
Don't give in
Noon will be coming around
again

When loneliness is
your only friend
and
it keeps calling you names
Don't give up
and
Don't give in

There are times
when life is
ablaze with horrors
but
Don't give up
and Don't give in

Those that survive
are those that find meaning
those that passively
take to their bed
are bound
to
perish
Don't give up
Don't give in

When the law's
got your name
and no payment can be
made
and
you have to go
along with their plans
that have been laid,
Inside, where you hide
Don't give up and
Don't give in.

Time only stops
once
Don't give up
Don't give in.
13.9k · Apr 2018
Orchid Dreams
Sjr1000 Apr 2018
The orchid is flowering
Opening,
a living mandala
Next to my bed
I hear it in my dreams
It's telling me very strange things
About the chemistry between us
And what being a flower really is
And what it really means.

There's a lot to learn.

The orchid whispers in chemical symbols

I danced through the night one night
I drank water in the desert
The sweetest taste, I've ever known
I heard a sound I've never heard before
The buzzing of Chi
Blowing in
while the curtains fluttered
In the night time wind.

Our time I know is limited
Forever wilts away

But while the orchid is flowering
That's for another day

I find myself longing for the scent of the night and at least
One more dream to go.
This came as a total surprise, 100%! Never expected. We all channel our internal poet, a conduit from within, dictated somehow. My experience at Hellopoetry has been life changing  and the community we are all apart of is truly a sacred circle, for that and this moment in time, I am grateful.
The poet, well, he's sleeping now, but I will pass it on when he awakens. Many thanks, to one and all, you continue to teach me what it means to be human and an artist in this world.
10.9k · Oct 2016
Poet's Sanctuary
Sjr1000 Oct 2016
Of all the places
she sought to hide
She only found one
safe place inside
in dancing images
where the poetry
resides.
Sjr1000 Aug 2014
We've become a
civilization of diseases
we build
monuments
statues
institutions
thinking death won't ever find
us here.

Our minds are scrambled
our bodies are damaged
our food is poisoned
our skies are toxic
our vices
are forces of processes
beyond our
control.

When we are not humbled
by nature's power
we inflict our wounds
upon ourselves in
the names of greed
and self protection
and no one knows
what it really means.

Fearful of the silence
we fill our skies with
endless noise
babbling on in endless
monotones, droning
while traffic stalls
at a hot stand still
idling engines
idling souls
depletion of every last glimpse
of the past.
Jam packed
in the stench
I am lost today
in
this vitriol
as anxiety, death and desperation
from every corner
screams my name.

That's why I came
to these woods
where the illusion of
peace remains
as
wild fires burn
just down the lane
as you know
as you say
its always been this way
when bodies hung
at every cross-roads
hunger, power, ignorance
and strength
all ran
the show.

I'm sick with
every disease I
know.

I float upon these tranquil
blue waters
and
we are reminded of the peace we all
really can know.
Sjr1000 Dec 2014
You open
the
fortune cookie
and
there is
nothing
inside
At a lowest lowest time this actually happened, proving once again there is no fiction greater than truth
8.8k · Apr 2014
Hallucinations Fixed/ 10W
Sjr1000 Apr 2014
I
still hear
voices
but now
we all get along.
8.4k · Apr 2016
Cognitive Therapy
Sjr1000 Apr 2016
I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know what I'm feeling
I don't know where I'm going
I don't know who I'm being
I'm overwhelmed,
frustrated,
I can't cope

These are the slogans
I repeat to myself
Over and over again

Oh yeah

I'm a failure too
I've lived this life
What did I do?
What do I have to
show for it?

These facts about myself
are the one thing
I'm very positive about.

I repeat these slogans
day in and day out
always wondering
what I'm so
depressed about

I bury my head in these sands

Suffocating
Smothering
choking on anxiety
in my own
advertising slogans
on my private airwaves

To complicate
matters
worse
just because we think something
doesn't make it true
that goes for
self worth too.

But

Mindfulness
stands
watching the passing cars
from a freeway overpass
like our racing thoughts
not holding on
not making them go away,
in peace
simply
letting them
be.
States of mind are transitory, come and go.
8.0k · May 2018
Can you tell me please
Sjr1000 May 2018
Can you tell me
please
which way now is home
I used to know, my dear
The way was clear
There was no fear

Tying my walking shoes
I knew I needed to get clear of here
thought I'd find
all that was dear

The road though, it is narrow
The cliff it is shear
My balance is
woozy

Can you tell me my dear

which way is home
which way do I go from here,
I think I oughta know
But the hills they are wavering
The ocean is in turmoil
The mountains are slick
far too dangerous

The desert has no mercy

I know something and with this knowledge
I think I must be cursed
I think I have it
Peace & Home
goes and comes
and comes and goes.
7.3k · Nov 2015
Works in Progress
Sjr1000 Nov 2015
Still learning to reach for the gifts
star like in the skies
Taking them into my heart

One at a time

One for your love
The children too

One for the mind
One for the feelings
Through and through

One for the light evolving
One for the light of healing

One at a time

One for the heat of living

Still learning to reach for the gifts
Star like in the skies.
6.7k · Mar 2017
The Poet
Sjr1000 Mar 2017
he won't shut up
when he's around
he wants to write everything
keeps on formulating phrases
hallucinating
couches into flying carpets
swearing that he's seen
the ground from the sky

The Poet
we never know what he's doing -
turning black sheep
into heaven
he's stuck on the inside
looking out

The Poet
he won't shut up
but when I really need him
he's no where to be found

when he wants what
he wants
in these poems of his
I know I'll wind up
embarrassed humiliated and forlorn

The Poet
when he's around
he won't shut up
he keeps going on and on

And when he's gone
Silence.
Sjr1000 Aug 2018
Friendships that go the distance
Make all the difference
Through lines of continuity
Lasting a lifetime.

Acquaintances come and go
They don't really know
Same team
Same office
Same school
All friendly and warm
But when you part ways
You'll never see them again.

Or there is the reminder
everyone is a hero in their own melodrama,
hurt feelings
falling outs
blocked
miscommunication
blame

Let's let'em pass

Friendships that go the distance
Seen you throughout, inside out
ugly and beautiful
Know all the idiosyncrasies
Know what to give for your birthday
Know what your all about
Willing to work it out

Friendships which go the distance
Are friends with benefits
Unconditional accepance.

Acceptance connecting
Both ways.

We can surely say,
It makes it all worthwhile
When you have friendships going the distance.
For my dearest David on his birthday, the friendship which is going the distance.
6.0k · Feb 2014
Lego Love/10 W
Sjr1000 Feb 2014
Thousand
piece
Lego set
love lies
shattered
on the ground. ..
5.5k · Feb 2016
Hope
Sjr1000 Feb 2016
Tragedy's shadow
So
Easy to miss
If you're
Not looking
For
It.
4.9k · Jul 2015
Uncommon Seas
Sjr1000 Jul 2015
I
remembered you,
you
remembered
me,
I believed in you,
You believed in me,
We were both sea creatures
traveling
uncommon seas.

We had taken to that
unconscious ocean
to see in the sea,
What we could see.

It's been a strange journey
of that there is no doubt.

Where everyone walks with
their insides in,
We travel these seas
with our
insides out,
We don't know any other
way to be
when you're swimming through
these
uncommon seas.

It's often a desert
out there,
But inside here
all kinds of musty
characters
drudged up from
anxious memory
inhabitants of this sea -
Sponge Bob Square Pants
has
nothing on you or me,
We are all travelers
in this uncommon sea.

Our bathing suits left far behind,
the temperature sometimes
too hot
too cold
depending on our state of mind,
There's strife
confrontation
character assination
often
uncommon seas
are far from placid.

The joy of traveling
though
you and me,
Sea creatures
feeling
the longing,
Finally belonging,
Where somewhere
and
sometimes
out of the blue,
A Beluga whale
speaks
your
name
so
perfectly
and
swims alongside
you and me
in
uncommon seas.
The symbol for the unconscious in dreams has been known to be the ocean.
4.7k · Nov 2014
Lavender Love
Sjr1000 Nov 2014
Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
falls to pieces
everywhere you go.

Your lavender love
hits the ground
and scatters
all around
all around.

You walk in trails
of flowers blooming
in all the sounds
of harmony
a magical touch
which heals all
pain, and words
which soothe
during midnight
rains.

You come on the
breath of the winds
you leave that
same way
too.

Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
falls to pieces
every where you go.
Where it comes from
where it goes
I really don't know.

Your lavender love
it falls to pieces
everywhere
we go.
https://soundcloud.com/steven-roth-10/lavender love
4.7k · Jan 2014
On Forgiveness
Sjr1000 Jan 2014
Resentment and bitterness
is the poison drank
in hopes the other will perish.

Forgiveness is a moment of
peaceful release
not forgetting
or unknowing
but a shifting
in mind
and emotions
a switch on
a switch off
a deep sigh of acceptance
A moving on.

But what does it really mean
and how to get there
from here?

Resentment
Bitterness
Hurtfulness
Forgiveness
How to get from here
to there?

These questions plague
my day
Dance through my night.

In a moment of light
I wonder
if self forgiveness
makes it all right
I realize then
I have no magic sentence
to make it all okay.

This unfathomable
human moment
perhaps there are no words to say.

But
Being loving
is that the answer?
Kindness
is that the cure?
Self-acceptance
comes in waves
peace in moments found.
Perhaps
in these emotions
forgiveness comes around.

When I get
there from here
I will tell you
what I found.

Meanwhile
Lightning and thunder
color the horizon
and flash towards the ground...
*In looking up the phrase "resentment is the poison I drink hoping the other will die" appears to have been first said by St. Augustine. Interestingly enough Nelson Mandela also said the same.  I am always interested in definitions of forgiveness and would love to hear those of yours who happened upon this page. Many thanks.
Steve.
4.4k · Feb 2018
Timers ticking down
Sjr1000 Feb 2018
Aging is confusing
How old would you be
if you didn't know how old you are

Microwave ovens
Kitchen range timers
Updates too
Timers all around ticking down
ticking down our time
You might think of this
as you make your rounds

Sunrises
Sunsets
Good morning
Goodnight

5 minutes to go
Forty seconds
I know

Ding goes the timer
Another day is done

I guess in the end
it's
five four three two one.
How old would you be...is a Satchel Paige quote, he was an ageless pitcher, actually no one knew how old he really was, legend has it he pitched well into his sixties
Sjr1000 Aug 2014
The first comment
I received
a "*******"
with a smiley face
I laughed off
wouldn't you?
Kind of crazy
kind of creepy
put it away as some one
we all know.

The second comment
came
with the usual language refrain
I was a "hack"
my words were "dreck".
The disparaging words about
my dead mother
gave me pause to reflect.

The third comment and more
began to recall
information of past
faux pas
secret affairs
one or two personal pecadillos
never mentioned beyond
the
dialogues in my mind.
Embarrassing I know.

I, of course,
went to the home page
to see
if it was someone
known to me.

No identifying data
but a picture I remembered vaguely
from a past I didn't know.

The trolling continued
relentless I would say
pulled the plug
put up a block
but
wouldn't you know

The comments continued
to come into my dreams
brutal criticism
of
every move I made
the day finally arrived
when I realized

Alter personalities were shedding off of me
like
psychological psoriasis
They were
hitting the ground running
I was
finding poems
I didn't remember writing
clothes I never bought
People kept hugging me
I had never met before
they
knew me far to well
called me many names
none of which were mine.

The silence of my nights were broken
when I found myself
in my car on Highway 101
returning from where I did not know
with a smile on my face
illegal drugs in my pocket.

How did I get here?
How did we get there?
Where are we now?

Another account opened
on Hello Poetry
with an anagram of my name.

I find my days
getting shorter and shorter
it became clear
I had become the dream
The others
had become me.
Sjr1000 Apr 2015
Depersonalization
Derealization
Dissociation
Delusional
Hallucina­tions
Confabulation
Perseveration
persevered.

Clanging
Rhyming
E­cholalia
echolalia.

Paranoia
Ideas of reference
Thought blocking
Internal stimuli
Thought broadcasting
heard
every way
every day.

Mental disorders
or
poets extraordinary

The Paiute anthropologist
locked up on the
inpatient unit
with visions of the ancestors
dancing in his eyes
said
"See these folks
you have locked up,
In ancient days
from the desert hills
they came our way
delivered truths
in their special way.

"Once they had their say
On desert winds
they blew back
up to their hills
away
straight away. "
"Can you please
give me the keys.
I've said what
I had to say. "
Sjr1000 Apr 2016
People come
People go
We get so close to people
we don't ever really know

We're all avatars
in this
the real world

Private self
Public self
Virtual self

We're all avatars
in this world

As real as the real world
As if it didn't have a delete
re-set re-post twelve more lives
power-off button

Real worlds converge

Real hurts
Real drama
Unfriend   Block

When the virtual world
replaces the real world
which is the "real" world?
Real money for virtual tools
People fall in real love with people
they don't even know
People come and go

The real world
The world that really matters
The real world is real to me.

Take your pick in the real world,
which is really real

Private self
Dream self
Public self
Virtual self

Real pain in the real world

Are we all really avatars
in the real world?

One day the AI robots
are coming with skin
3d printed
speaking your language,
real relationships
going the way of cigarettes
outside
better done in the garden.

The  AI's will be singing every night
"Happy trails to you "
When they know they are the
new real.

A virtual
real relationship
in the real world

Imagine that

Are we all avatars
in this world,
the real
real
world?

And which is that?

One day when we have dream machines,
is anyone gonna want to wake up?

We're all avatars in this world
the real world.
Sjr1000 Feb 2014
I've been digging
through this dumpster
far too long
trying to get to the bottom of it all.
Slimey sweet stench
there's my first love
my first pipe
my last light
my first rush
my last gush
my first bet
my last buck
"the game ain't over
until the rent money's gone."

I am down a deep hole
and my only tool is a shovel
I've got that one choice
but to go
down
down
down.
Drunk and dial
Drunk and poetry
how did I get here
how do I get out?

I'm a spiritual wasteland
connected to no one
connected to nothing
My drug
My man
My woman
My casino
The rush comes first
The numbness comes last
until
death, insanity or jail
is within my grasp.
I do what I do
But I am allergic too
you understand
when I do what I do
I break out in handcuffs
jail cells
strapped down to beds
looking around
longing for my dumpster
and
what I might have found.

1st Step
12th Step
I've done them all
though the 13th Step
I liked the best
Sponsors have come and gone
Spiritual awakenings
have all been done
I am back in this dumpster
where I had begun.

There is an exquisite mystery
at the heart of it all
the internal shift
happens
an inside job
The 21 year old's first black out
enough is enough
The 60 year old
on his fifth DUI
going out for one more round.

It is true
I have seen it many times
Recovery can be found
Hope restored
Wisdom in these halls
Peace within these walls
The dumpster closed
and left behind
A ladder falls and arrives
acceptance and gratitude
combine
as they say
"One day at a time."
"Poker the game ain't over until the rent money is gone" was on a greeting card.
13th Stepping is hitting on new comers in meetings.   I am not in recovery yet, but I always need to add the yet.
3.3k · Jan 2014
Blessings To One And All
Sjr1000 Jan 2014
Blessings they speak
In many ways
On any given day.
There is of course
The sun's return
After darkness reigns
There is that first
Breath the infant takes
The last breath
The old man shakes
And takes away the pain.

The each moment
Each ocean wave
Each snowflake
Each lovers look
Each gentle touch
Each sun at noon
Each son and daughter too.
Each child's laugh
Each joyous room
Each innocent mistakes
Which go right anyway.

Each moment of peace
Each moment unique
Each moment of hope
Each moment of you.

The freedom to choose
The freedom to refuse
It's within our attitudes
That's a blessing too.

This life is short
There is no doubt
The birds they sing
And though our lives
They probably don't mean a thing
The many generations
Come and go
Don't I know.

But in this moment so fleeting
It is blessings I am remembering
And in the many shapes
And sounds of suffering
That we can't deny
It is easy to miss
The traveler dressed in white
In the blowing snow
And so it is with the
Blessings
We need to remember
To
Know
3.2k · Dec 2013
Duality Reality
Sjr1000 Dec 2013
No water tastes sweeter
than that sip in the desert
No touch is finer
than that hand on the shoulder
when encased in loneliness.
No paycheck more abundant
than following employment deprivation.
No buffet more filling
than that first bite in hunger.

No more wondrous serenity
than when the pain
finally goes away
from your mouth
your back
your head
your knees
your gut
your mind.

No idea more stimulating
to a mind so hungry
than a poem which catches
the moment so perfectly.

No love more appreciated
than when awash in self judgement
No praise more received
than when lost in condemnation.

No warmth more soothing
than when lost in the snow.
No light so bright
as that first sunlight
when lost in the demons
of one's night.

No sensation so
pure as an open
heart after numbness descends
Compassion in hatred
A laugh when joyless.

A lover's kiss after betrayal
A loving look after the cold white wall
A loving word after tense stone silence.
No embrace more healing
than when you come home to me.

The receding waters after the tsunami
The stillness after the earthquake.
The peace after the warfare.

The spring flowers after the winter
The coolness of fall after the blistering summer's heat.
The wood stove so warm when the house is so cold.

No bed so content
No home so sweet
after being stuck out on the streets.

Duality Reality
Without our joys no sorrow
Without our sorrows no joy.
3.2k · Sep 2014
For All The Lady Poets
Sjr1000 Sep 2014
For all the lady poets
whose songs are sung
who dance on fire
when the night comes
who are willing to
go to the heart of the matter,
whose desires erupt
behind the smile
who hold secrets
and shadows,
who can turn you
into slick wet stone
with one word,
one look
one touch
one tap on the shoulder.

Who hold you between
their finger tips
roll you into a
tightening knot of
desire and fear and apprehension
and
bring home your reality
far too clear.

For all the lady poets
who know you too well
who know that shell
who can crack you
in a moment
and never look back
or
love you into life
or
leave you child like
stammering and wondering.

For all the lady poets
who love you too well
who are with you
for the moment,
know your
heaven and hell
and
open their words on these pages
a sweet treat
a sweet longing
a sweet surrender
the lady poets
can spin you
twist you
and
put you back on top.

The lady poets
hold the keys
have the words,
vast universes inside,
hold on
it's an exquisite ride
better buckle up
hunker down
hold on tight
without the lady poets
I'd never make it through the night.
3.2k · Jul 2018
The Stranger
Sjr1000 Jul 2018
He arises in the morning
with nothing to say
He arises in the evening
after being quiet all day

His thoughts they are a dancing  -
The future is dark
The past is bleak
with nothing to dream

The dawn it arises,
At night, the sun
it heads down
Time it stands still
when you have nothing to say  -
You've tried your best in
your own way
Nothing seems to come
but
despair and dismay.

A lover she comes
A lover she goes
Your creations,
they all grow trite
and old

Playing cat's cradle
with a line of string
at the tear line
not knowing
whether to cry
or go numb

Like our lives,
a spider web
on a tree
blowing and shimmering
in the sun light winds.

He arises and dresses
Heads out for his day
With nothing to say.
Sjr1000 Mar 2014
Running down that Ecstasy Highway
as fast as my little legs can carry me
I'm blind as a bat with ear plugs
But we  were both
searching through this night time
skyway
reaching out to touch some one
and be touched.

All the guide books said this is the way,
turn right at Desire
turn left at Oblivion
and head on down
to the
neon lights, you can't miss it
as long as you are riding that
Ecstasy Highway.

I was told
some people find it at the end of a needle
others wait for the drop of the cards
and there are those who throw themselves
off that mountain side cliff looking for the winds to ride.
Some find it laying with you.

I've gone somewhere else I can't describe
made a wrong turn
thought it was a Transcendental highway
maybe
because I've been up and down,
made wrong turns right and left
made a wrong turn
at the corner of Sanctuary and Bliss.
I'd ask directions but there is not a soul around,
smacking my GPS
lost beyond words
with nothing familiar
in
neighborhoods looming
stark cracked out buildings
and
broken street lights
people with apocalyptic eyes
even the cops won't come down here any more
and the only help I've found
the only guide I have
is delusional and lost
though occasionally profound
dressed in piercings and tatoos
and she keeps yelling at me
something about going home to you.

Too tired to go on.

Had lost that bat back at the beginning of dawn
finally sat down at the coffee shop
at the corner
of
Love and Compassion
ordered up some hot self-acceptance
took a breath and looked around
still looking for the way back home.
I know it's just down the road
a stop light or so
maybe there's an on ramp
or a sign pointing out the way
to get back
on that
Ecstasy Highway.

I stopped at a gas station
talked to a guy
who told me lefts and rights
but my eye lids fluttered
fell asleep
right when he told me what I wanted to know
and when I opened my eyes
the station was closed
not a soul around
and I was running down
unfamiliar roads.

So if you hear a small lost voice
in the night
that's probably the sound of me
standing at the crossroads
of
Self-pity and Remorse
knocking at the Post Office
trying to mail these words
at a place that been long closed.
Please give me a hug or two
and send me on my way
if you give me any advice
I probably won't hear a word you say.
You see
I'm trying to make my way
back again
to that
Ecstasy Highway.
3.1k · Oct 2018
My Walking Rose
Sjr1000 Oct 2018
She's my walking rose
Walking down the road
Discussing right and wrong
Trying to figure out how to stay strong

She wants to grow,
She wants to know
How it's supposed to go,
She turns her color on
Turns a shade of pink yellow white black or red
Only the rose knows,
walking as she goes,
her time is brief
she thinks maybe that's a relief

Her road is long
When she's in the middle of it,
She knows though
It's all a dream as it passes on by.

My rose
She wilts in the dawn
Rises in the night,
I tell her I have one more road to go
My walking rose
She whispers, "I know."
3.0k · Jun 2014
On Becoming A Redwood
Sjr1000 Jun 2014
How this could have
happened I will
never hear again
but it happened
all the same
exactly this way.

I was walking in
Prairie Creek
surrounded by my
soon to become silent
companions
when I noticed
events so
strange.

I dug my feet
into the dirt
they soon dissolved
and roots were
sprung
a nervous system extending into
the soil, oh the sounds the
smells I felt.

Where my skin once was
bark began to emerge
my fingers became tiny
clones of myself
each speaking different
tongues I could not comprehend
I made out these
words "our time has begun. "

I became a Buddha
on the road
a three quarter
smile on my lips
as my body grew
towards the sun
a thousand years
was now mine
and to it I did
succumb.

I watched the
generations pass
Christs come and
go and come again.
It all meant nothing
to me at all
as long as I have
this fog that nourishes
me and creatures living
in the canopy.

I stand at peace
for centuries
a thousand years
and still my life
is a five minute
dream filled with all
possible intensity
and former attachments
as the impermanence
of the illusion of
time was plain
to see
as human lives whirlwinds of
experience
dust devils
blew by me.

Lightening and fires burned me
but I survived.

Now that I stand in
this silence
lost in the meditation
of dreams
a solitary tree
the last standing
a brand new species
born of evolutions breeding
runs on the ground
dancing on my grave

I remember that
first day
the beginning of my
thousand year awakenings
I think it was only
yesterday.
3.0k · Oct 2016
The Pilot
Sjr1000 Oct 2016
Like a plane in the
fog
looking for a place to
land
Like a man in a
homeless shelter listening for the rapture
A pelican on a pier
eyeing his next meal
the last apple on a
tree all ready
to fall

Remember I started with blue
skies in front of me
I studied my flight plan well
I knew I'd be landing

I knew for sure
it wasn't going to be hell
I always tried to do so well,
focusing in on innocence
when ever I was able to

But there are failures of compass
The phantom captain takes
a nap

The instruments may keep on
saying you're right on track
But
the only trust I have is
in the Northern Star
and in Mars high
in the sky.

It seems impossible
to be so lost

Like a plane in the
fog
looking for somewhere
to land.

Like a woman working tables
until two a.m.
Her fitness app keeps saying
a hundred years this shift

The fuel is evaporating
The miles to go before zero
keeps hopping

Like a whale without a culture
no one to talk to
The sky is a 300 mile high
air ocean
I thought I was free
to get from here to there

Like a window with a view
of a brick wall

Phoenix in the summer
A tsunami on dry land
A river without a name
A cougar and no game

Like a lover whose left
and no way to find their name

So many aspects of this life
Departures and arrivals
a one way ticket

There is a great darkness
out in the distance
I know it's getting closer
but
I keep on drifting

Like a plane in the fog
looking for a place to land.
A nod to Leonard
2.9k · Feb 2016
Wishes
Sjr1000 Feb 2016
I wish upon wishes
I wish all the
time

If wishes were horses
than beggars would ride
This is something we've known
for a
long long
time

But still I put
wishes on stars
and
go along
for the ride
whispering out to the great unknown
listening and wishing
for
another story untold

But
of all the wishes
I could bestow
I wish for that peace
we all
wish
to know.
If wishes were horses is a 16th Century English nursery rhyme
2.9k · Jan 2016
Planetarium
Sjr1000 Jan 2016
Staring at the ceiling sky
Past lover's faces
Eyes
Dotting
The midnight moonless skies

Stars twinkling
Their light having been cast
Many light years ago

Each one for their time
Had in their eyes - for me -
The golden glow

Meteor showers of montage sequences
faces
scenes
times
fly by
Trailing ribbons in the ceiling skies

The dots when taken together
Tho eons passed and separated
Pieces and bits form constellations

Eros
Aphrodite
The Mother
Sancho Panza in drag disguise
A female Damocles and her sword
The Companion Star, still glowing here in the Western sky

Looking backwards in time
Their presence was once present
Now, all have vanished
Moved on to other places in space and time

Aware of all I have been given
All I've learned

Remembering I loved each one
And when the moon is right
and the ceiling is dark
and there is no sleep
for me tonight
Their light still shines
On my ceiling night sky.
2.8k · Jan 2016
The Garden Buddha
Sjr1000 Jan 2016
The Garden Buddha
sits
between
the
Rosemary, Dahlia and Boronia
fragrances in the breeze

Welcoming Accepting
the sun, the rain,
the star lite night sky
fierce frozen mornings
the snow when it comes,
the spiders, the slugs, the mosquitoes, the flies

Garden Buddha
quarter smile
whether or not
I sit beside him,
Unattached to all he sees
a study in the 7 Dharmas.

The Garden Buddha
being is all he knows.

While I worry
about this and that
fearful thoughts in the days and nights
all attached
to
love and loss,
fears and triumphs
births and debts,
what people think
will poems trend
whether there is food on the table
whether work will extend
whether or not I am part of the latest fashion trend.

The Garden Buddha
doesn't care or not care
about any of those things
his eyes
never waver
they always look inside out
outside in.

The Garden Buddha
stone of course
his smile
never goes away.

In the end, though,
nature will always have the last say
I can accept it
or not
Be filled with longing
suffering or accepting

life on life's terms

The Garden Buddha
will be here
long after
my last
dying day.
Not a practicing Buddhist, but have always had a fascination with attachment, longing and acceptance.
2.8k · Sep 2016
A Time and a Place
Sjr1000 Sep 2016
In a palapa in Yalapa
Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
He waves his hands in circles and squares
in candle shadows

Eyes turn inward to see

becoming a mind in the present
childlike wonder
big moon rising
pulling internal tides
stretching roots
grounded in the earth

Rudolpho knows how to laugh in colors
He knows how to dance Zorba style
arms held high to the diamonds in the sky

Nothing was achieved but everything was fixed

Zooming towards a universal experience
among the universal mind

Don't know where the night went

Rudolpho knows the ritual of the sun
Told me what I needed to know
singing
"Hurray another day"
while a parrot calls my name
and a scorpion slips into my shoe.

A palapa has no walls
I didn't either
all I was
was windows

Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
he knows all about goodbyes.
2.8k · Sep 2015
The Healing/Ties that Bind
Sjr1000 Sep 2015
I offer you this innocence,
come on in,
condemnation
judgement
vitriol
are left on the other side
of the walls of skin.

Hearts may open here
tears may tumble
walls may fall
in this moment between you and me.

We will offer
truths and tenderness
for every imagined sin.

Life's a puzzle
the pieces are in
earthquake shambles scattered
across the floor.
There are places for each puzzle piece
to put together,
we may even find bliss.

Sometimes this life is too complex
too hard to fathom
too easy to plummet,
we all need a place to
explore
unload
forgive.

This is the innocence
feel free to come on in,
your secrets are safe here,
never told by me.

It has been said
we are as sick as our secrets,
burrowing through our eyes
in dark packets of disguise.
But in this sanctuary
lies dissolve
innocence returns,
We find a chance to begin again.

Put down the masks
Put down the resentments
Put down the propped up sorrows
Our truths will set us free.

The door is open
the glowing warmth of connection
is at your disposal,
come speak to me
the accumulated hurts of where you have been,
through these true confessions
hurts pass
not forgotten
but
forgiven.

We can begin again.

The puzzle pieces lost
will be found,
compassion and forgiveness
become our friends.

Abandon all pasts
seen through a child's eyes,
in this time of now
we can become cozy
snuggle up in this warm bath embrace.
Sometimes we all need a place to hide
in all the necessary pillows and comforters.

Either in words or in silence,
we'll find that spot of transformation,
begin again,
once you enter this innocence,
from the tangle
as birds well know,
we can fly free again.
2.8k · Apr 2014
A Dark and Foggy Night
Sjr1000 Apr 2014
I stopped
inside a light house
on a dark and foggy night
and in the beacon
in the fog
I saw far too many sights.

Lovers lost in their pasts
uncompleted tasks
of shoulda coulda wouldas
"If only's"
blocking their
paths.

The ferrel human beings
with eyes of gold
but no money
to buy a room
running to nowhere soon.

The poetry outlaws
with no words
left to sing
lost within their prisons
and know one knows
what they mean.

The beacon flashed
and in the light
I saw those
trapped in drudgery
and fading dreams
of being free.

And lonely souls
in darkened rooms
of four white walls
with no where to go
and no one coming that they know.

The beacon flashed
in that fog
the horn it rang
to no one listening
but the ships lost at sea
heard something
but asked themselves
was it really meant for me?

It
Spotlighted lovers
on the far sides
of the bed
their love lost
in what is now
misery and dread.

Wage slaves breathing toxic air
and what's this life for
their breath asks
captured in the foggy air.

Stopped at that lighthouse
to look out at that foggy sea
was all about the poetry
and what it means to me
a light
on a foggy
populated sea
and
life told in scenes
about
those who struggle to be free.
2.7k · Dec 2015
"On a desert highway..."
Sjr1000 Dec 2015
Her hair is blowing
in the high desert
winds
She's gotta
1942 Big Chief engine
between her knees
bequeathed
by her great granddaddy
She's heading up
395
Sierra bound.

She'll tell ya
she's had enough
straight time
driving her far from crazy

Pacing
playing losing aces
pulling her hair
she knew she
just
had to get out of there.

Now the great Mojave
has its expanse
Joshua Trees
they just had to laugh
as she rode by

China Lake
flashing
21st Century
weaponry

Passing through Independence
she's feeling free now

Now I can't say
running away
is
the way

But when your hair
is blowing in the winds
You gotta Big Chief motorcycle
between your legs
and
the ******* aren't stopping
what else can you
say?

Heading to the Sierra
gotta get the mountain view
high above it all
slump those shoulders down
breathe on through

Heading up Big Pine
smelling the Jeffrey Pines
Bishop too
ancient Mono Lake
when it ain't snowing
freedom reigns

Her hair blowing
in the mountain winds
didn't mean anybody
any harm
just had to get
out of there
alive

Bye bye
baby
take care.
A definite nod to Neil Young's "Unknown Legend"
"Somewhere on a desert highway
She rides a Harley-Davidson
Her long blonde hair
flyin' in the wind
She's been runnin' half her life
The chrome and steel she rides
Collidin' with
the very air she breathes
The air she breathes."  
Can't beat Neil's version, recently ran into a version by Shovels and Rope, very cool.
2.7k · Feb 2014
Musical Tourette's 10W
Sjr1000 Feb 2014
Breaking out
in
Bojangle
dances
in
the most inappropriate
places.
2.7k · Aug 2018
The Curse of Consciousness
Sjr1000 Aug 2018
When I think about the executioner
I think about at the moment after impact
How every one goes limp into total relaxation
When I think about the executioner
I think about our children in mortal terror
And I weep.

When I think about the executioner
I wonder what he does after
Is there exhilaration?
Andrenial and endorphins,
Whiskey speed and morphine
Prayers all night,
Telling their god about all they gave,
Maybe feeling nothing like killing a fly
Or are there endless movies of regret?

When I think about the executioner
I think about the man in the fiery cage
Head bowed
The man looking to his left
Before the shot goes off

When I think about the executioner
I think of the last breath
Before death

When I think about the executioner
I wonder about being there
And how I will react.
I want to apologize for this one, but the poet, he demands it.
Sjr1000 Mar 2014
The fruit of the BlackBerry
so sweet on a summer's night.
But those thorns
will
slice and cut
and leave you stuck
you get to close.

For my brother
he sees the berries
and only feels the thorns.
For my sister
she sees the thorns
and
only tastes the perfect
summer sweetness.

She sleeps in peace
He disappears each night.

Her days are filled
with hopeful delights.

His nights are dark
with demons
and
vice
left anxious deranged and raw.
He looks at the morning
and fears
the night.

She embraces the darkness
and
awaits the dawning light.
Sjr1000 Aug 2014
Long Valley lay outside my bedroom window
high desert Northern Nevada,
each sunrise
rose
brilliant red
spirals
spires
exploding
in the passing dawn,
to
the petroglyphs
we were drawn.

The asphalt became a dirt road
then the dirt road ended.

Along Long Valley
like some drive through zoo,
herds of wild burros
cattle
sheep
grazing
separated by Pinion pines
the white sage
the dust devils
and the tumble weeds
and a 52 Studebaker body
perfectly preserved
in the high desert dry air
one could only wonder how it got there.

Long Valley had its own expanse
its own vibration to the air
distinct and unique
filled with wonder
way out there.

The petroglyphs
10,000 year old drawings
at once was
the shores of ancient
Lake Lahontan
you could feel it there.

Trying to decipher
the lines and curly cues
circles and swirls
stars and shapes
of
an alien consciousness
from another land
another time.

This was no one rock
but
acres and acres
of generations
communicating with one another
the rocks worn away
from thousands of years of sitting
forming perfect lounge chairs,
perhaps sitting alongside
some receding shore line.

There were  stone rock walls carefully stacked
mysteriously standing  scattered
in the desert
no one knows what it really means.

While lost in the tones
the scents and vision
of the millennium,
on the hillside
through the Tamarack
and Pinion
there emerged
four wild mustangs
at a distance
on the top of the ridge
not those that wandered
into our Virgina City yards

But wild animals
tied to the horses of the millennium.
Power and Strength
spirit gods
reminding us of where we were.
The winds blew
the black mane
of the male in front
wet from sweat
chest heaving in breath
and then they were gone
over the hill
from where they had come.

The petroglyphs were silent.
The sounds of the winds
the sounds of the small stream
less than a drop
in the once Great Lahontan Sea.

Before the sun went down
we needed to leave
driving along the sides
of dry river beds
up rocky hillsides
along the electrical lines
to the dirt road
to the asphalt
as the Long Valley
sunset shot
spires of red.
When the cowboys and silver miners left the Comstock, they abandoned their horses which became free and became the wild Mustangs often now considered a nuisance and often starving.  It's become another tragedy when civilization and nature meet.
The journey to the petroglyphs is a true story, my son James was there, father and son there's a whole other poem for another day.
The mustangs we encountered were healthy, free and truly wild animals, and the spirits of all animals that had once ran free.
2.6k · Dec 2014
Laundromat Time
Sjr1000 Dec 2014
Pay your quarters
pay your dimes
you're paying for laundromat time
slowly spinning
forgotten
by
Einstein's Theory of Relativity.

Minutes become hours
and
there are still too many hours to go.

Any math class
intense gas
organized religion
waiting for the tow truck,
the bus
in
the pouring frozen rain.

Sitting in the E.R.
with a cut finger
waiting waiting waiting.

Sitting in the hospital room
with an elderly distant relative
you hardly know,
their funeral too.

At the grandparents house
with endless repeats of Judge Judy
on the t.v.
t.v. droning monotoning on and on and on.

Any work day
perpetually two thirty or three,
in meetings with presentations
with more presentations to go,
you're trying to be productive,
but all you know
is
laundromat time
slowly spinning.

Any night of insomnia,
betrayals endless loops,
anxiety rolling through,
following you from one cigarette to another
three o'clock
four o'clock
four-twenty.

Home movies of endless barbeques
I know meaningful to you.

Pictures of people's
cats and dogs
a hundred more to go.

Eight and a half months pregnant,
kiddie soccer on a Sunday morning at 7:30,
the middle school brass band
Friday night at nine,
yes, that's me
passed out and snoring,
laundromat time
a warm blanket
has
put me under.

Anybody else's endless fascinations
say
pictures of weather,
laundromat time sets in
as the
eye lids flutter
narcolepsy sets in with all of this clutter.

So the next time
you're standing in line
and the woman in front is telling
the clerk
every detail you never wanted to know
you'll think about these poor lines
and remember
you're spinning in laundromat time
forgotten by Einstein.

In fact these poor lines
must be feeling that way too
I am going to do you a favor
and
get back to you later.
A laundromat in the USA is where you go to do laundry if you don't have a washer/dryer at home. Time slows down, it's a known fact.
2.5k · Jun 2018
I can't talk
Sjr1000 Jun 2018
I can't hear
There's a darkness
everywhere

Spinning in circles
Drawing squares in the
air

Confusion reigns
while calmness soothes

Longing for the dawn
at night
Longing for the night
at dawn

Wanting to be alone
when together
Missing you every
second we're apart

At work watching
the clock
At home restless
not knowing what to do

There is a road
that goes
There is a home
that stays
I'm sure there's a way
Never heard them say -
it was easy being
human.
2.5k · Sep 2014
Through Lines
Sjr1000 Sep 2014
Through lines
attach themselves to me
I'm a zip line zipping through the canopy.
Zip lines
through lines
My life in dots and dashes.

There was that darkness
before I was born
don't remember much about that.

Parents were through lines
for a long while
then they died
grandparents before
they all had their time
through lines
zip lines
strings
the true string theory.

Homesickness, school, bullies, too
the Sunday Night Blues
riding those zip lines
through lines
what are you gonna do
they aren't leaving you.

*******
Resignation
private fantasies
too private to tell
through lines too
on  the old zip line.

The voices in your mind
that's been a through line
through and through.

Poverty that was true too
that's what happens when you
peak too soon
and
you're a late bloomer too.

Children, the through lines
children of children
and you too
through lines zipping through
along the old zip line.

Poetry, a through line
sharing secrets
sacred circles
those are through lines too.

Body parts
hearts, limbs, lungs, guts and toes
though those tonsils
had to go.
Every breath
Every heart beat.

My through lines
your through lines
we all got'em
parallel points on parallel lines
I can't say
I know we sometimes together zip
along that same highway
then one will fade
and one will go away.

But where we all meet
each day,
I can say,
in the molecules
of every breath we take.
2.5k · Jan 2015
Skin & Bones & Flesh
Sjr1000 Jan 2015
Why do we go through
all of this stress?
So easy to forget.

Smoke a thousand
cigarettes,
Another ****
another hit,
another poke,
Another whip,
another mindfield to avoid.

A ****** cut,
A ****** mind,
A ****** mouth.

Not just another disembodied
mind
in the ether's ink.

Skin & Bones & Flesh
until
that
sharp and shooting
pain
so easy to
forget.
2.5k · Nov 2014
Veterans Day in the USA
Sjr1000 Nov 2014
"Soldiers Heart"
Two brothers on their way
one wore blue
and
one wore gray
one came home
one stayed behind
one mother mourns
on a November's day.
212,938
bled and died
on
American soil.

"Irritable Heart"
14 years in the Philippines
far too many days
4200 died
so many miles away.

"Shell Shock"
Johnny got his gun
alive in the tomb
of his mind
no eyes
no ears
no arms
no legs
a beating heart
an active mind
alive
with memories and sensations
Paths of Glory
leads
the way
and 53,402 stay
while one came home.

"Battle Fatigue"
291,557
perished.
Nagasaki got its bomb
six million died
before our fathers and grandfathers
liberated them.

To the 38th Parallel
we did go
where old soldiers
never die
they just fade away
with
time.
33,746 died.

"Stress Response Syndrome"
Apocalypse Now
Jacob had his ladder
in
the jungles of Vietnam
Full Metal Jacket
Born in the USA
homeless veterans
now aged still pay today
while 47,424
lay in their graves.

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder"
My daughter
my son-in-law
bring it all
back home to me
Navy Medics
seven years
they traveled with the Marines
picking up the pieces
as they went their way
many too many trips
for all those young
troops
now we are
seeing
their heroism
proceeding
despite being afraid
a price
dearly
we all pay.
5,282 and still counting.
For all those who have walked in the horrors of war
and the grief too countless to tell.
Let us all pray in our way,
work in our days
for the end of war.

"Soldiers Heart" etc, the evolving terms for what is now known as PTSD.
Two Brothers on their way is a beautiful, beautiful Civil War song. "Two sisters stood by the railroad tracks, one wore blue and one wore black. "
Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo the ultimate anti-war novel, he was later black listed during the McCarthy Hearings.
Paths of Glory, Stanley Kubrick, about WWI.
Apocalypse Now, Francis Ford Coppola (on my top five movie list.)
Jacobs Ladder, Tim Robbins, haunting Vietnam war movie.
Full Metal Jacket, Kubrick again.
Born in the USA, the Boss, Bruce Springsteen.

My daughter, Katie, defines courage proceeding
despite being scared.
Doug's sense of humor and loving heart
he proceeds despite what he has seen.
Sjr1000 Jan 2017
There are no endings
as long as I have in
my mind.

I always start off so optimistic,
I'm disappointed every time

Starting off expecting nothing
pleasantly surprised

But the voices they keep talking
and the road is hard to find

We start off so high
looking down on all mankind
but as we decend
the
buildings get bigger and bigger
as
reality ascends

There are no endings
as long as I have in my mind

When change it comes
all will never be the same again

It's a rise and a fall
the time of us all

The light starts in the East
Darkness comes in the West

Change is on our finger tips
But gone with the wind

Anxiety sings in apprehensive images
Peace it sings in harmony
The heart it beats so slowly

In the midst forever
In the past forever too

There are no endings
as long as I have in my mind.
2.4k · Jun 2014
Earth/10W
Sjr1000 Jun 2014
Blue Hydrangea
adrift
in the
black vacuum sea
wilting
brown
2.4k · Feb 2017
Time's Ladder
Sjr1000 Feb 2017
No time to dwell
(on what's been undone)
or that
which has become undone

We'll hold onto
each of our moments
when love's song was sung

(When) we stepped on time's ladder
climbed each rung
Each one told a story
of births and deaths
failures and success

The higher we ascended
The shakier the ladder
Encouraging each other
when our legs start to tremble,
when our balance is threatened,
My hand in yours
then
your hand in mine
Should you fall behind
I wait for you
When I falter
You wait for me

When we stumble
We hold on to each other
With a word
A look
A warm embrace

Time's ladder
over time
deteriorates
with aging and pain

I know we'll hold on to the end
though no promises can be made
I'm not perfect
Neither are you

But

I know I won't be climbing to these heights again
or stepping up on to
another time's ladder.
A nod to the Boss, "If I Should Fall Behind  "
2.4k · Dec 2015
Willingness
Sjr1000 Dec 2015
To
the poets
among us
I
do
bequeath for
us
the lines
that
bring
us
elegant
truth.
It has been said we can bequeath not only property but values as well.
Sjr1000 Nov 2013
Billy arrived when the
sky was all ******
"Sailors take warn
Red sky at dawn."

He never was a sailor
and he never awakened so early.
He stopped for a coffee
at a Brew and Blue

This is when he met
Rainbow - a hippie child
all stunted and rude.

"Enlightenment will never be mine"
Billy muttered as he climbed into the orange booth.
Eying Rainbow's *****.

Rainbow looked him over
she had seen one too many
dusty would be sailors.

But something about his
manner-gave her hope
for something that mattered.

They looked into each
other's eyes to find
two companions without
disguise.

This rather shocked them
into disbelief but
life takes twists and
turns definitely different
than whatever we expect.

Billy was a screenwriter's
son with wealth and
health
Abandoning all fantasy
he claimed he rode
the rails in order to be free.

Rainbow raised by a bipolar
soul, who claimed never to know,
wandered aimlessly
with no where to go -
she had slept in stairwells
of stranger's homes - till
mother's flip was over
and she was taken to the car -
her new home, again.

Billy and Rainbow, as ridiculous
as it comes, tried to deny it,
but knew they had already begun.

It has slipped their minds
they were lovers from kingdom come.

Billy left and went
searching for other scars.
Rainbow sat on her
porch and searched the stars.

The train blew its whistle
at the crossing
and the rains began to come.

A week later, Billy was
back setting up a home,
waiting to find Rainbow
who had hit the road
searching for Billy,
that lost soul.

They both remembered
what had slipped their minds
being together was one
moment when life was
kind.
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