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 Jun 6
A blank page blinks
Begging words to appear
I can't seem to think
Months lapse into years

Shake the ink from the pen
Alchemy art from grieving
Change a loss to a win
Turn that mill for demons

Crank out another liter
'Til the pump's run dry
Claw up one last meter
Over that ****'s the sky
 Jun 6
Grew up avoiding “I can’t”
My father told me never to say or believe this contraction
Despite and in spite of hiccups and wrong turns
What one puts into matters is as much as what one gets out of the effort
There are situations and outcomes
Does one gamble?
Does one give up?
Choices and Options
The words “I can’t” just don’t compute or connect
You must keep trying to make things happen
There is no room for excuses or “I can’t” in anyone’s life
No room for it

On the bike the rider is a blazing glory
winds to him whisper hair raising story
whizz past houses, trees, and towns
wheels giggle joyous with the ups and downs.

Girls on the sidewalks look up in awe
as the speed streaks on the wrong side of law
the copper burnt hands grip the baby tight
to ride away from dark and into the light.

Through the flash of clouds, torrents of rains
sun on the mountain, sunset's pink stains
piercing the wind, cutting across rainbow
steams the metal man, in seamless flow.

Days nights roll, beneath the grey arch
on an intense pursuit, one frantic search
he looks for a place where a loving hand
will open the door to the God's resting land.
From my 20’s through my 40’s I was the very definition of svelte. Willow thin but shapely, smartly dressed at all times in what would be the next new trend coming down the fashion pipeline. I mingled with people who dabbled in fame and some of it rubbed off on me. In those days I moved in exciting circles. It was painful to watch the years take it away, one increment at a time.  The waistline expanded, new styles appeared ugly, and star studded lovers moved on. I did what I could to hold onto the shine, but I found other mountains to climb.  I conquered new vistas and gathered some trophies, while minutes and years slipped away. So subtly I didn’t pay much attention, I became an old lady who hates having to dress for her age. And refuses.

I still have the photos that prove I was lovely, but no one is asking to see them. I still have the outfits that no longer fit me; they hang in the closet to taunt me.
I’ve learned to make peace with the milieu I live in.  I’m still the svelte damsel inside. I dress in bright colors and billowing fabrics and leave the self judgement behind.
For BLT's Webster word game.  An insanely egotistical ramble. Forgive me.
The universe is on display tonight.
    A storm is coming. Birds in flight
    as lightening cracks the sky in two.
    There's half for me and half for you.
Our sleep's quality
Our satisfaction quantity
Your smile is like
Blooming flowers
Your words are
Like spreading
Honey from flowers
Your dance is like
Fluttering of
Butterfly on flowers
Your singing is like
Beating of heart
Before receiving
Of proposal flowers
You would have been
A flower if I were
Not yours
A newspaper
The sharpest weapon
against all kinds of atrocities
From racism to
All kinds of slaveries
It is also
the most effective guide
in dealing with calamities
From plague to
Covid transmities
Its hawker
A constant source
of confidence and consistency
in this period of all oddities.
I am missing my today's copy and that prompted me to narrate its importance

You paint my life with red —
And I keep on sinking in your oceans of grace.
You are my Miracle Working God,  
So merciful even when I drown in my own desires.

So closed to death, I mention Your Name
My dry lungs spit blood
And my bones has become weak
For I pierce myself when I neglect Your ways
But you keep calling me
To build altars in Your mountains.

So I run to your grace —
I climb up looking for Your presence
Where I know I will thirst no more
For Your tender arms is my eternal home.

And I was thrown not in the lake of fire
But in your Throne of Grace
Where I can no longer feel the tears in my eyes
For you caught me in Your arms
Where I surrendered my being.

You keep on rescuing me
And Your embrace clothes me with security.
I fear but no longer in this world
I fear of losing you —
Keep my soul, oh Lord
Keep me until forever.
I want to be your playmate
Dancing on the bubbles of our joy.
I want to be your everything
Providing all you need and more.

        I want to be your hiding place
        When storms of life surround you.
        I want to be the face you see
        When you wake up forever.

                 I want to be a steady beam
                 To light the ways we travel.
                 I want to be part of your life
                 As long as God will let me
Written in 2006 and lost in the clutter.
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