Labyrinth: Favorites

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Breathe

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Chalsey Wilder

Breathe

Just breathe
If you can't do anything else
Just breathe
Even if I have to do it for you
Just breathe

I was thinking multiple things when I wrote this

#breathing

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

How to be a Counselor

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

William A Poppen

How to be a Counselor

Reflect, reflect, reflect
Trust yourself and trust your client
Accept those you counsel
If you don't know what to say, smile
Finish on time
Don't talk too much
Show your joy
Hide your judgments
Try to work yourself out of a job
Love yourself
Clarify, clarify, clarify
Stomp out erroneous thinking
Keep Kleenex handy

Not really a poem but some thoughts on the art of helping.

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Budding

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

A

Budding

Green face paint.
Little conversations.
Budding love
with no complications.
A warm blanket
laid over me.
My cheeks are flushed
I feel oddly giddy.

Look-
then look away.

For we cannot see
when I look at you,
when you look at me.
That was the beginning,
let us know no end
because life is a story
and you are holding the pen.

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

i'm willing to be acquaintances

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

fdg

i'm willing to be acquaintances

I need you to know
that I no longer write about you.

i know this may be cold, but you are not who i kissed in my dream last night.

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Paper plane

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Pushing Daisies

Paper plane

I cannot,
Soar through the air,
And fly freely,
Across the thermal,
Winds.

My outstretched hands
Cannot delve into,
The rain clouds,
And disperse,
The ever growing,
Fractals of grey.

Water droplets,
Causing my skin,
To concave.
Leaving me limp,
Exceedingly fragile.
My bones,
Crumbling under,
The pressure.

It's as if,
I am your paper plane,
Left lying,
In the murky,
Puddle water.

*Daunghting realms,
Of forgetful delight,
Causing me,
Too all but,
disintegrate.

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

pouring oil daily from the heart

Apr 2014 Labyrinth

Nat Lipstadt

pouring oil daily from the heart

for bala, one more time*
~~~~~~~~

*humans
secrete and excrete
humans
ingest and imbibe

only a few,
select and exceptional
only the rare,
incomparable and imbued

can pour oil
from the heart daily

they, the oil-anointed ones,
marked as future kings
singer of songs,
poets and psalmists,
return their anointment
to the people who granted it
by pouring oil from the heart,
daily

The title was taken from a comment about a poem (often a source of inspiration) from Bala, that was stored away for a poem. Today, it arrived.

K Balachandran Feb 20
a poignant thought, a calm flame
every son of the soil keeps burning, pouring oil daily from the heart,
when one broods, on life, it becomes clear--
what else one can aspire, after everything is said and done..
Thank you Nat
Bala

PostScript
A second dedication for this poem
To Ms. Jeanne Midtowns,
another of the select and exceptional
only the rare,
incomparable and imbued...

this is for she, one who loves poetry as much as life itself...