thomas-mooney - Hello Poetry

All my life I wanted you, Desperate for the life of you, Holding to the dream of you, Dear daughter. All these days I'm loving you, Desperate to help all of you, Hoping that the life of you, Discovers, dear daughter All the dreams you dare to dream, Dream those dreams with all your hope. Hope and find that life that's yours, Dear daughter.

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Apr 16, 2015

Apr 16, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC

ADHD.

All my life I wanted you, Desperate for the life of you, Holding to the dream of you, Dear daughter. All these days I'm loving you, Desperate to help all of you, Hoping that the life of you, Discovers, dear daughter All the dreams you dare to dream, Dream those dreams with all your hope. Hope and find that life that's yours, Dear daughter.

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In it all Through it all When it all comes crashing In it find through it find When you find the meaning In it know That life will go On through it all... with you in it.

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Apr 16, 2015

Apr 16, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC

In It.

In it all Through it all When it all comes crashing In it find through it find When you find the meaning In it know That life will go On through it all... with you in it.

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When I was poor you fed me words of encouragement. When I was young you held me accountable and true. When I was gone you called me

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Feb 28, 2014

Feb 28, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC

A Built Life.

When I was poor you fed me words of encouragement. When I was young you held me accountable and true. When I was gone you called me

5

Somewhere in the loose change you find it- your brokenness. Somewhere in the soapy bath water you feel it- your uncleanliness. Somewhere in the setting sun you see it- you're ending. Nowhere in your life can you fathom it- your importance.

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Feb 28, 2014

Feb 28, 2014 at 11:15 AM UTC

When Thinking.

Somewhere in the loose change you find it- your brokenness. Somewhere in the soapy bath water you feel it- your uncleanliness. Somewhere in the setting sun you see it- you're ending. Nowhere in your life can you fathom it- your importance.

4

Somewhere, under the bent branches, heavy with snow, waits a whisper. A whisper of all that space has seen- the wolf sifting slowly through drifts of snow. the deer pausing, alert and eying the depths of the wood. centuries of life moving through this clearing. And the wind will come. And the wind will carry the whisper. Carry it to the ear of a poet that will write the wolf to life, and lower, once again, the deer's head to graze. And the centuries that had lived in that clearing will be given words and life. And the centuries more will hear the whisper and know the clearing.

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Dec 14, 2013

Dec 14, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC

The Clearing.

Somewhere, under the bent branches, heavy with snow, waits a whisper. A whisper of all that space has seen- the wolf sifting slowly through drifts of snow. the deer pausing, alert and eying the depths of the wood. centuries of life moving through this clearing. And the wind will come. And the wind will carry the whisper. Carry it to the ear of a poet that will write the wolf to life, and lower, once again, the deer's head to graze. And the centuries that had lived in that clearing will be given words and life. And the centuries more will hear the whisper and know the clearing.

13

'Give us this day', just this day. No more. 'Give us this day', my only love. Only her. Just this day. Tomorrow's are foolish. Full of nothings. This day, this one with this One. That's all. 'Give us' my love, my friend, my wife, my life, the mother, my only. 'This day'. Just this.

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Nov 18, 2013

Nov 18, 2013 at 3:10 PM UTC

In Reverence of One Love.

'Give us this day', just this day. No more. 'Give us this day', my only love. Only her. Just this day. Tomorrow's are foolish. Full of nothings. This day, this one with this One. That's all. 'Give us' my love, my friend, my wife, my life, the mother, my only. 'This day'. Just this.

13

I loved you the other day as I watched you die. And still today, as you cheat death, I love you the same. You live like anyone else- dying with each exhalation. And I watch you die, each day. I feel the time we share slip past. I feel the heart that beats lose out. I feel the idea of us grow slight. I watched you dying today- sleeping soundly as I cinched my tie- sheets pulled tight as if an image of sound contentedness. I watched you dying today- somewhere in you, a dream. Somewhere in you, a heart beating- carrying you along like the rhythm of a drum. I watched you dying today- as I died along with you in time.

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Nov 12, 2013

Nov 12, 2013 at 8:59 AM UTC

How We Die, Always.

I loved you the other day as I watched you die. And still today, as you cheat death, I love you the same. You live like anyone else- dying with each exhalation. And I watch you die, each day. I feel the time we share slip past. I feel the heart that beats lose out. I feel the idea of us grow slight. I watched you dying today- sleeping soundly as I cinched my tie- sheets pulled tight as if an image of sound contentedness. I watched you dying today- somewhere in you, a dream. Somewhere in you, a heart beating- carrying you along like the rhythm of a drum. I watched you dying today- as I died along with you in time.

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Go Find yourself. Find you. I hope you're Finding happy. Get your Finding life together. Get Found.

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Nov 4, 2013

Nov 4, 2013 at 11:43 AM UTC

The F Word.

Go Find yourself. Find you. I hope you're Finding happy. Get your Finding life together. Get Found.

5

I'm not writing for you, you reader. How could I? I'm not writing to prove myself. I know already. I'm only writing. To tell the pen to work. To tell the cursor to never blink a breath. To tell something I cannot tell the disappointed clerk, or disillusioned worker, or disheartened lover. To write. To add permanence to an otherwise irretrievable thought that will be lost, I know it will, like the passion, the illusion, the heart.

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Nov 4, 2013

Nov 4, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC

To:

I'm not writing for you, you reader. How could I? I'm not writing to prove myself. I know already. I'm only writing. To tell the pen to work. To tell the cursor to never blink a breath. To tell something I cannot tell the disappointed clerk, or disillusioned worker, or disheartened lover. To write. To add permanence to an otherwise irretrievable thought that will be lost, I know it will, like the passion, the illusion, the heart.

21

It's the ship of she, and she, and she that I need to steady. But I am only this one man, and father to all three. And I'm only half sure I'm half right half the time. But she, and she, and she- trust me. Trust me, they do. I see it in their eyes their smiles their sleep. And I'm only thinking about what happened today and guessing about tomorrow. But still they love me. I feel she, she, and she always will. And I feel the weight of this steady, though heavy and I'll never hold. And the she, and the she, and the she, of ships will trust in the things they're told. But how do you steady the she and she, And the she she'll grow to be? Whoever never taught me owes me an explanation. I'll steady her the best I can, and know at the very least, the ships of she, and she, and she will get the best of me.

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Oct 23, 2013

Oct 23, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC

Steady as She Goes.

It's the ship of she, and she, and she that I need to steady. But I am only this one man, and father to all three. And I'm only half sure I'm half right half the time. But she, and she, and she- trust me. Trust me, they do. I see it in their eyes their smiles their sleep. And I'm only thinking about what happened today and guessing about tomorrow. But still they love me. I feel she, she, and she always will. And I feel the weight of this steady, though heavy and I'll never hold. And the she, and the she, and the she, of ships will trust in the things they're told. But how do you steady the she and she, And the she she'll grow to be? Whoever never taught me owes me an explanation. I'll steady her the best I can, and know at the very least, the ships of she, and she, and she will get the best of me.

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