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Bella Isaacs Feb 18
Came I hither with all the gold possess'd,
Came I hither with all the wisdom gain'd,
Came I hither with all the truth and jest,
Beauty, health, kindness, luck, thou'd'st have complain'd
That I came hither with an underhand
Desire of something greater thus exchang'd,
Unable to conceive or understand
How one who offers free is not derang'd.

Came I hither with all the gold possess'd,
And came I bearing rubies and pearls, too,
Came I hither bearing all the rest
To thine own mortal self, still erring true;
Came I hither, and ask'd nothing, giving
All that I have, and more, and still I err,
For the Lord ask'd nothing of the living,
But sacrifice is matter of a cur.

Mistrusting as you do, with sense, I see,
Love's made not for this world, nor I for thee.
I have nothing more to pour
The universe has began to change
And what we all grew comfort to has become distant
Confusion of what and where one should go has beautified itself
Some are pouring, but I have nothing more to pour
I know of love and I know of hate, I know of regrets and I know of free will.
But I’m bare.
Empty.
With nothing more to pour
Gifted with the chance to be delusional of what my happiness will be
But cursed with having nothing more than that
I want to say I’m done, I want to say I have done my best,
But even these words I cannot trust.
I have nothing more to pour and yet life keeps me around
No more free shows I say but pleasing others just seems to be my way
I have nothing more to pour and this life will continue to grow
So why lie about purpose and hope
When without nothing to pour, life still grows.
onlylovepoetry Dec 2023
light

<>

~yes, for you~

you never knew that you have burdened me,
informing an old fool that,
you meditating in the morning, after waking up
to a poem in your inbox from a person you’ve
never met, but whom you thank with a kindness
that wets my face, trembling with thankful shivering
from the places
left in me that
crave giving thanks

one day I will come unannounced with tapes
of a hundred romcom movies that have caused
my heart to erupt and always will, for thank god
my old curmudgeon heart is still weak enough
to cry in private
at old movies in
a youthful man~boy way,
now grizzled gray
that yet needs
nay, requires, reminders
that giving thanks
is a variant of giving
love in its very
own way

a craving that satisfies
in its own way
that giving is
gifting love
to yourself
as well
Sat Dec 30 2023
Heidi Franke Dec 2023
Riding the air
In dark morning
A steady current of rain
Descends
Upon everything
The fir tree
The house roof
My dogs fur
The empty Ash tree
The fallen leaves
Brown, red, yellow, orange
The bird feeder catches the water As does the bird bath
The puddles
The street
The cement
My head

My ears hear each
Multitude of patterned drops
In apparent chaos
Reminds me of the brain
The synapses in my brain
Circuitry, each drop a connection from
Dendrite to dentride
Messages of the unknown
Of falling to earth
Of vulnerable life
Unprotected.

The unhoused, in the cool soaked air of December. Will you remain blessed?
Will you spread your joy in the patter of rain to those who bare the rain in their skin, on their dampened clothes? Adding a chill.
Will today you find some without a home
Bringing tarps, blankets, source of heat, to those who listen
To the same rain
While they shiver
And you stay in your glow with your tidy wood burning fireplace. Stay comfortable? Risk giving for giving sake. What floods of love can you share in December rather than giving to
Your precious family, the left overs, the excesses
And give to charity that make each day another day for breath in rain from the heavens. I choose the rain. I could be the one in
The open now, soaking as I pen these words.

Hoping words of love, neutrality, non-judgement and altruism be the "church" we reside in. Drop by drop.
Over a hundred different sounds of rain brought to earth by gravity, in my receiving ears, and the tiny sparkles of light reflected upon the  light from the street lamp shining upon concrete saturated by this extended morning rain.
Sunday. Sitting under my porch with coffee in hand, dog at my side. Dry from this music of rain. Thinking of the homeless. Now mustering the strength and courage to buy Starbucks growlers full of coffee for about thirty and driving around town once again finding cold people shivering. Time to order that coffee and give warm to some as best I can in my limited way. Looking for costs of pull over rain coats. My gifts to my children this year is to give what I would give them to others less fortunate. Be neutral in your thinking. Be rid of judgements of self and others. More love, less hate.
George Krokos Nov 2023
If we give out love
it will all come back again
many times over
__
A Senryu with some loving advice. Written in 2021.
Jawad Aug 2023
The aging woman
All her life
Striving so much

Not only fixing bodies
But hearts
She spent her life
Some people keep giving
Malia Jul 2023
So much all the time
I give so much all the time
I just want it back.
Inspired by the song “Karma” by AJR.
Mark Toney May 2023
good to perceive a need - better to fulfill it with a deed




Mark Toney © 2023
5/15/2023 - Poetry form: Monoku
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