Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 2015 Marka Acton
RW Dennen
Wood
 Aug 2015 Marka Acton
RW Dennen
There was once a carpenter's son;
he died by his stepfather's profession
about an item made of wood

He died by his stepfather's profession
carrying wood upon his back

He died by his stepfather's profession
with wood touching him
He died by his stepfather's profession
by wood with nails in skin...
Ironically this man of love and peace
who preached peace and
love knew about wood
by his earthly father;
died on wood...
 Aug 2015 Marka Acton
glassea
she may hurt, but she is not pain.
she may fail, but she is not a failure.
she may be tragic, but she is not tragedy.

*she may feel worthless,
but this, too, will pass.
so it's always worth reminding people (i.e. myself) that just because you feel something in the moment doesn't mean that it's permanent. an emotion is an instant, no matter how long the ache lasts, and an instant cannot define you.

(thanks for the daily!)
The wood is stacked for winter.
One way out of the mind's limitations
is through other minds' contemplations.
The books are stacked for winter.

Yet even that cannot satisfy.
Failing to hold still for meditation
my teacher smiles, makes this observation:
The purpose of sitting's not to be satisfied

or satiated. Remain hungry,
cold, uncomfortable and counting enemies.
These, and fear, are our commonalities,
and the discipline of not hitting whenever angry.

You'll appreciate dying
quietly at home. Whichever season has been randomly selected will be
      beautiful as ever
as a molecule of water is to all matter.
"In my life there were always too many things."

If there is no time, only change
the linear becomes circular.
Do not say north or south. You're
within the winter range

of chickadee, hawk, owl and heron.
River grapes, rose hips, the cedar waxwings'
repast. Their talk is my reminding
there is change and endurance.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
1
The rain
The wind
combined, they are a storm
separate, they are beauty

The heart
The mind
combined, they are conflicting
separate, they are precious

You
Me
Separate, we are empty

                  Combined, we are *one
 Aug 2015 Marka Acton
MickeyP
Voided
 Aug 2015 Marka Acton
MickeyP
Vast realm
of
lifeless bodies roaming the streets
souls headed in no particular direction
achromatic skies roll on eternally
the seemingly colossal heap of rotted decayed yesterdays
indistinguishable
men with not the faintest inkling of a mission
encaged  by the desolate frozen grounds he once roamed freely
enslaved by his own ruthless vindictive mind
exuding gusts of bitter, bone chilling air
overpowering
encapsulating
ensnaring me in its wrath.
And I,
I so invincible,
I so inviolable..
I Crumble.
Just like that.
God is bigger than our failed ability
To deal with life;
That's why He sent Christ
To die for our sins --
And gave us the power to be victors
As he rose again, giving us *hope.
I see Happiness out of humanity.
then theres me.
I see smiles out of people.
everyone. everthing. seems like im alone.
where do i go to turn.
I am Broken.
like glass that trembles when it gets broken
im hurt.
but im just broken.
Next page