Missed a step of the stepping stool
smacked the sidewalk with my face
felt like a blithering fool
what happened to my grace

First parched earth of drought
now we’re so soaked with rain
the birdseed’s begun to sprout
dare I holler or complain

I think I need a change of scene
boredom cries for the next valley over
to smell the new scent of green
hear honey bees buzzing clover

They say hearing voices like yours
can be soothing and cozy
but too much harmony bores
and I think a little stink can be rosy

Living life in extremes
isn’t for me and isn’t sound
maybe it’s about stretching the seams
but not to be unbound

I don’t know if balance is my fate
Yes, equilibrium has its uses
but I like a tune that syncopates
and enough spice to excite the juices.
That recent fall where I hit my head reminded me of the delicate balance of life that is so easily taken for granted.  Grateful there was no concussion or any internally serious problem.  The external wound already healed.  I'd been trying to find a new balance in my faith journey and some of my relationships so the co-incidence of the fall and the other stuff finally emerged into this poem.
Joan 2d
Iam blissful as much as I am unhappy,
I can give you a taste of both which is what brings me into balance.
I can be slow and gentle just like a bumble bee,
Or I can be as fierce as the fire that slowly destroys everything in its way.
I am confident yet scared to make a move,
Feeling alone is my biggest fear yet being alone is all I desire.
I no longer fear pain because it has brought me strength.  
I love thunderstorms but I can’t live without sunshine.
I love to teach as much as I love to learn.
And in a world filled with so many wrong my daughter was the only right.
Giving a picture of who i am and what has made me who i am.
There’s a truth beyond
What the world sees
And what the world believes.
I stand on the edge
Of these two worlds
And I just try not to
Lose my footing
And keep balance.
Your stories are beautiful,
I wish I lived your life,
They’d say,
I’d think of the scars
My soul wears as
Reminders of the wars
And I would smile,
But my thoughts would
Run wild
With memories from
When I was still only a child
It’s an awful place to be,
Wanting to be understood
Yet hiding behind tall walls
Or somewhere in the woods.
But I do find solace in the fact
That there’s always tomorrow
Maybe I’ll finally get to meet
A person I can follow,
Someone who understands my pain
And makes it easier to swallow
You know?
Anyone else feeling like this?
A Nuñez Aug 8
Spirit and matter
The light and the dark
left and right brained
the Ying and the Yang
an outspoken mute
a chaotic plan
mortal and eternal
a pacifist Warrior
ambidextrous hands
A foot on the ground
A head in the clouds
Silence and sound
A teacher a pupil
Reserved with no Scruples
A genius a fool
slave and the master
man I am God
feline and dog
reason and Insanity
A well planned Calamity
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2
Fingers stroke balance's beauty
as tiny joy blossom in
This poem WILL be completed! I won't let it defeat me!
Lyn xxx
TB Dentz Aug 1
Bury me again I asked for it
Fight me and I won't fight back
It's not about my religion this time
I'm a glutton for punishment

Where else can I be of service
I have nothing left to give
But here I am there must be something
Take it all leave me nothing

In a few years time I'll be free
Then I can begin again
To make my life my own
For now I will live for you
Carl Webb II Jul 27
can I grow tomorrow?
place a bucket over my head
to block the sun; protect my innocence
for a while. I'll grow tomorrow.
but, today. . .

I just wanna see the darkness
with my eyes open, in hopes
of understanding. I can be aware
of my surroundings, though I
do not see, distinctly, I can
tell that I'm surrounded.
something bigger than myself.
protecting me from what is good. . .
so that it won't become the bad. . .
protecting my naiveté.

just leave the bucket;
walk away.
I'll grow tomorrow.
Skaidrum Jul 26
Below the surface
rage falls in love with revenge
like yin fell for yang.
Of the haiku series
xix. my clothes are on fire tonight

© Copywrite Skaidrum
George Krokos Jul 25
The reality of any situation is a balance of subjective and objective cognition
which generally depends very much on one’s experience and predisposition.
From "Simple Observations" ongoing writings since the early '90's
Pax Jul 22
Your pride is too high
even you can't
even fly.
just saying.
a quote
a shoutout
a reminder
its really okay to have it we all do but we need to even it out
balance is everything.
Next page