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we claw through brittle days
       upon calloused hands
hearts chiseled into Celtic swords
                                       yet we hold on-

hunkering down through
       blistering nights,
trudging beneath
               the frosted moon,        
         awakening at mottled dawn, sleep deprived,
       riddled with a profound ache
for distant fairy stories
we will not surrender
      to shrieking banshees,
           to long-stemmed loneliness,
  to prevailing hunger,
                  to our minds' mischiefs fretting
        as shadows in    
                   unforgiving hours

      instead we galvanize as druids,
              extracting golden amber
from faraway dreams
        depositing them as seeds stowed
beneath winter's cloak-    
   lore keepers
                       of pandemic secrets

                                    -until spring
    thaws the frozen river beds
              of our poetic fingers          
    pollinating speech
                     while we spawn
into garnet roses
(blood soaked with piecing stems)

    a reawakening of voracious beauty,
the roaring Aslan,
             unmuzzled prophesier
                                   of breaking dawn
In these dark days, we will persevere until the coming of daybreak.
Jammit Janet Oct 18
You bloom in adversity,
Feeling life at its fullest,
Solving problems left and right,
Mindset sharper than bullets,

Persistent at every task,
Unafraid to show fear or cover it with a mask,
Using brute honesty to prevail,
Conquering darkness,
Healing ails,

Planting seeds,
To a brighter future,
Dissipating gloom & despair,
Releasing the fragrance of hope,
To grace our air,

Shine with the sun,
Absorb its power,
Become one with the Universe,
Flow, you beautiful flower.
onlylovepoetry Mar 2017
~and for Harlan, who loved this one best~

"for tandem is the ever-changing, graying color of their fierce attached tenacity"

waking/walking in
careful pacing regular lock steps,
like new cadets, counting cadence,
in perfect silent, almost motionless,
except for the minuscule quivering of
slightly parted moving lips

these two elders,
still now plebes,
but of a latter, graduated stage,
demonstrating robustly
the slow shuffle-along,
a well practiced dance conjured
'in tandem'

her arm, crooked in his,
his other hand,
in protective custody of a
knight's armored chain glove
encasing hers,
he, shuffling just,  
a precise, intended half-a-beat slower
lest she ever think
that she, ever be a drag upon him

hair, his,
threaded with daily,
new arriving grays,
proudly accepted
as the privilege of
graceful aging

disguised with periodic outings,
outings for the hidings of life's bookmarks,
conceding nothing ever to
time's lunatic desire to separate them

modest in dress,
styling hints of  pasts' elegant,
the man's hat defiant,
daringly jaunty angled,
a small scarf to handbag knotted,
matching his Windsor knotted tie

the passers-by, all smile,  
the signal charm of an
end game processional,
thinking so sweet,
yet mine eyes detect more,
hardy and radical

a fierce, fierce fierceness,
both fighters in the resistance,
armed with tandem tenacity,
ground given,
but only inches surrendered,
wounds resisted by
scar skin toughened
by the caress of ions bonding
under the pressure
of atomic level mutuality

worn out,
well past Purple Hearts,
no capitulation feared,
to the ever changing,
enemies' new disguises,
a two person platoon,
having the other's back

and I burst into tears on the street,
a train of out loud moans,
even groans emitted,
like a string of perfect pearls
clattering on an asphalt terrain

from visions of the inevitable,
from the certitude of a
cycle's uptime ending

but jealous furious by this reminder delightful,
angry at myself, for having lost so many wasted years,
mine, the loss greatest, for absent was the
fierce tenacity of tandem
for my aussie prof:
you will know me well
by the color of
my happy brimming tears
Chandler M Feb 17
From beyond
The horizon of darkness
A child
Holding a battered flag
Etched into
His ideals
What he chooses to believe in
Despite all
The injured near him
Just a kid...
How can he keep going?
The innocence of hope
The last thing his family left him
And he's just a kid.
Keiya Tasire Jan 6
Have you heard the saying
The strong can afford to be gentle
While the weak and unsure brag and boast?

The weak are the loudest!  
With overbearing, feigned affection and denial.
Speaking half truths to cast illusions
To veil their target's truth, as lies.

The weak love to gather an army,
of "everyone," so they say.
Why? It is simple!
To siphon your power away.
Yes, they are the "Wolves in sheep's clothing"
Climbing to the top of a mountain of victims
With their claws -n- fangs
Of gaslighting manipulations.

Half -truths and lies,
Guilt -n- shame,
Setting up circumstances,
Playing upon weakness, and social taboos.
Creating false scenarios for others to see
Gossiping and acting
All tools of their game.

Are you scorned,
Offended and hurt?
Never ever worry.
Never let it get to you!
Know, it is all for show.
This is how they magnify their victim role.
But who calls a ravenous wolf a victim,
Knowing the wolf's actions are aimed at control?!!

The wolves are very sly!
Summoning their hatchet men
to do their bidding!
To cut down the innocent,
The sincere, and pure of heart.
Stealing their virtues
Misrepresenting intent.
Are you a part of this cancerous
skurge up on the earth?!

Are you part of their inner circle?
Are you favoured and showered with gifts?
That job you always wanted?
The power, position, and money
That Screams,

How many people did you destroy?
How many hearts did you break?
How many times did you sale your soul?
To be showered with those gifts,
That power, and that position?

Ease your guilt if you wish.
Send a card for every follower's birthday,
Stroke their ego with a wonderful mention,
A salute, to toast both your egos!
As long as you have something to offer
You will be savoured and milked, and stroked
Like aphids in an anthill forever trapped.

Why all this effort to send their targets over the edge?
To keep alive?
To avoid the inevitable overshadowing doom?
What happened to the wolf that used to be free?

Little by little, the wolf was lead astray.
With a gentle ring in its nose
Down into the valley
Where they fear their personal evil.
Each time you did their bidding
Your nose became tighter
And your slavery more sure.

One day, it will be your turn
You will be the "One"
Their sacrificial lamb.
Be alert. Be alive. Beware.
Of their sly well placed apologies and feigned love.  
Pushing you away
Then pulling you in very close.  
Twisting and turning your truth
To suit themselves.
To suit their captain, their very own Kingpin.

Alienation, keeping you alone?
How about in shame?
Is it misleading, even your own emotions?
Your own beliefs, and acts?
Standing on your back,
They will turn you Over and over again.
Until you, their very own scapegoat, collapse.
Whether of exhaustion, mental collapse, or suicide
It doesn't matter.
So long as you dutifully do it
Moving them further ahead.

Do you realize that there is a different choice?
You can insist on holding your integrity!
Refuse to hurt another!
You can refuse to be afraid!
You can refuse to self blame,
You can choose to stands up
and walk away from the game!  

But, once as a wolf in sheep's clothing
You become blood stained
Their hooks will be deep into your soul!
Anchored so strongly by fear.

******* in the hooking and anchoring
Fear propels you on to
Denying reality,  
Denying truth
Denying even evil your own evil actions
Along the path of 8 deadly sins.
Weaving am ever thicker, forever holding web of lies.

What if you curb your hunger for the bait they set?
Denying pride, anger, gluttony,
Letting go of greed, lust, envy,
Idolatry, and sloth.
What if you take courage to make life right?
Becoming untwisted and detangled from the games?  
For love is what matters to the strong
Not power, nor greed, nor money, nor fame.

The wolves may grasp and manoeuvring for more power.
With increased desperation, 
The wolves cloaks begins to slip.
Alast, the sleeping sheep eyes are awakened
And they are asleep no more.

Do you suspect you are dealing with a wolf in sheep's clothing?
Watch their feet and watch their mask.
Test them.
Give them  a bit of their sought after desire.
Then watch closely  
Do they dawn a slight smile when they ask for control?
Do they do it again when you give a little to them?  

Watch! You will see a slight smirk,
A slight gloat, dance across their face.
It will be only for an instant.
They will not thank you.
Acting entitled, they will proceed to take control
Without a thought of you
As they climb upon your back, to stand up!
Thinking that they have scored
And wheeled their power to manipulate and control.

If you see this, there is no doubt.
Trust your instincts, your gut!
Never allow their words to dis-sway you
from your voice of truth!

Is there a wolf under your daughter's, your mother's, your sister's, Your brother's, your aunt's, your uncle's, your cousin's
And/or closest friend's sheepish cloak?
You know the one!
The one who seems to pick a fight
That comes out of  nowhere,
Without a rhyme nor reason.

Know that you never have to engage them
Or prove yourself.
You never give up who you are.
Never give up on your dreams!
Hold on to your true self!
Speak your truth.
If it is trampled by swine
Go to where it will be cherished instead.

Love, prayer, boundaries,
Living within the higher vibrations.
I gave my own wolves' in sheeps' clothing
Their own universe to do whatever they will.
It was the kindest thing I could do for all of us.

I kindly invite them back
If and only if they leave the games behind!!
And live sincerely, with compassion, and respect.
If I see they have stopped climbing on other's backs
I'd lovingly accept them back into  my world.

Yet, it is interesting
How deep my peace has become.
Oh, such peace!!!
How could I ask for more?
Some of us have our greatest challenges within our own families. I have always felt different and apart from my family. Innately my mould seemed different. As I crawled out of the pattern of family games, manipulations, power plays, and control of others for greed, power, and to show prowess as a teenager, I realized that may goals were different. I believed in a kinder, gentler, existence. It made me a truth seeker, in search of increased knowledge, peace, and love.  I don't regret that I have sprung from these roots. I feel I choose my family before birth. They have tested me, and I choose something different for myself. Patterning more after my father's love of truth, respect, and honoring others. These lessons have made me who I am today. I lost nothing, but the relationships that seek harm, to overpower. I am just not interested in these games and chose long ago to step out of them. If they desire to be in my world. I am open to real love, without games.
Randall Hasper Dec 2019
I’m looking into your eyes right now.  I love you.

Don’t quit not quitting on yourself, whatever is in your heart — big, important, longing stuff like the quest for true love.

Swing tenacity’s knife exactly as sagacity has swung your *****, nilly dilly head.

Look reality in its bright, bulging, blinking eye.

Track down any self-care apathy within, jump any legitimacy laxity — **** them both.

And don’t forget to take up the continuous, scientific adoration of honesty.

If you adore emotional integrity, if you favor psychological congruency, if you pound out new affective territory — then you will not fall off a cliff at night and you will not lose all you have always hoped for.

Here is what to do.

Stare love right in the snout and speak the truth, lean in and grind out a bushel basket of openness, eat a yard of authenticity and knock back true falsity.

Shout, charge and retake the emotional high ground.

What are you thinking?

You are all that anyone could ever want — you precious cargo, you personhood of inestimable value, you absolutely gorgeous emotive mess.

You’re tired?

Okay, go watch some brain dead TV.

You’ve tried and failed?

Okay, go to bed and get some sleep.

Remember when we had lunch last week. I told you that the first three tries don’t keep the fourth from succeeding.

In the face of failure, tenacity is the still the best policy — and ontogeny.

If you can’t grow one thing then grow another, you long, glorious bank of radiant blooms planted in previous springs.

Every seed you have ever sown — even if it has died in someone else — has flowered in your own soul
Keiya Tasire Dec 2019
Winter is here
Yet it is not yet Christmas
Not yet Winter Solstice
Nor Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or the Essene New Year!
It is snowing in my heart
It feels like winter.
It must be winter!

Sitting, being warmed by the fire
Comforted by the touch of soft fur
Fur Babe, Habibie, I love you
Aaron's, Stephan's, Connors, Kevin's, Maria's birthdays
Singing with the Christmas Choir
Silver Bells and Deck the Halls
Evergreen trees, popcorn garland
Snowman soup
Gingerbread Cookies hung
On the boughs with red and green ribbons
Sharing gifts, laughter, hugs and joy
Christmas morning stockings
Filled with an orange, cinnamon roll
A few simple pleasures
Pass the Ibarra, please....

Why all the fuss? Continue to keep it simple!
Wrapped up in my fuzzy, two sided warm blanket

The comfort of my kitten and tears  
Lifting my heart from my feet
Yes, it is still in one piece.

Finding the  Christmas Cards and notes to write.
Creating, to  celebrate those close to us
It is time to create new memories
And keep the Holiday Spirit alive.
Today I am missing my adult children and grandchildren. We live far apart from each other and traveling is not as easy as I had once thought. Yet I gather myself together and get on with it.  By getting out of myself and invite the neighbors over to celebrate the season. Write Christmas  and create birthday posts to send.  It is helpful for me to  take a bit of time to grieve, and then celebrate life.
shogunzoe Nov 2019
A life sharpened heart.
Artfully persevering.
Wise beyond its years.

(see original)
Samurai sword sharp.
Heart precise as Chinese stars,
scarred by bullseye darts.
Juhlhaus Oct 2019
I am a creature
Of movement and pain.
In movement and pain I exist
And have always existed.
To cease movement
Will be to pass from existence.
I am a creature
Of movement and pain.
A marathoner's mantra.
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