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Terry Jordan Jan 2019
Extend a hand to yourself
Helpful, tender and warm
Giving yourself a high-five
Doing yourself no harm

Raise both hands, disarm yourself
Feel peace from hands to heart
Show some enthusiasm
Before your day can start

Hug both shoulders give a squeeze
Close your eyes with a sigh
Feeling your love with each breath
Even if you cry

Entwine your fingers, press palms
In gratitude for
Having come this far
While still wanting more

Give yourself a round of applause
Feel the joy indeed
Perhaps a pat on your shoulder
May be all you need
Just a little piece about loving yourself, that it's ok to be your own best friend, to be accepting and tender toward oneself.  Oscar Wild described loving ourselves as  "the beginning of a lifelong romance".
Terry Jordan Dec 2018
Christmas is Love

It can’t be bought or sold
It never grows too old
It’s hearing an old song
A friend who’s long since gone
A clear star in the sky
A baby’s first shrill cry
It’s never losing hope
Though in the dark you *****
It comes just to remind us
Of all that is behind us
It’s all we see and feel
Christmas is very real
Merry Christmas everyone!
Terry Jordan Nov 2018
Dear Eliot, I wonder why
When members post their rhymes
You gave us all those choices how
To give some feedback every time

Like it, love it, leave a comment, too
Even click on “thumbs down”
The best is when a reader is moved
To send it all around…

Or when it’s picked “The Daily”
It feels like quite a treat  
when someone shines a “Sun” that
Feels marvelously sweet!

We poets see who likes our writes
Who sends them all around
But just what is the purpose for
Those mean, faceless “thumbs down”?
When the "thumbs down" choice was added, I remember some grumbling & questioning about it.  What is its purpose?  It's not constructive or helpful.  I just started noticing, and I don't like it.
Terry Jordan Nov 2018
Language is the raw material
Transformation into art
Leaping through Alice’s looking glass
Breaking metaphors apart

Is it dark inside a poem
From whence it first sprang
Deeply repressed panic
Without judgment rang

Bringing pressured speech to light
Images of love and pain
Through clearly heightened senses
Uninhibited refrain

Where verbal acrobats spiral
Words on a poet’s page
That remind us and disturb us
In desperate outrage

With the pathos of a clown
On a winding rocky path
Reminders of death’s nearness
Terror spinning with a laugh

Pictures painted with premonitions
An atmosphere heavy in despair
Remnants of previous poets
Are blinding the reader in its glare

Quatrains moving merrily
Using images and tone
Making shapes with language
Shaping irony unknown

With tones bright and beautiful
Its matrix darkly savage
Through visual impressions
The reader’s heart is ravaged

Freedom of imagination
From whimsy to terror can bring
Surprising facetious word-play
Delivering irony’s sting

A psychological awakening
The tenderest love infused with dread
Blazing pathways joyous and dangerous
Irrevocable loss lies ahead

A telling detail without warning
Takes us to disturbing turns
The risky business of being born
Poets’ authority burns

It brings you to your senses
Through supernatural realms
Exploding realization
Its resonance overwhelms

Allusiveness to brutal honesty
It may sometimes misconstrue
In an abyss of isolation cries,
“What else can a poem do?”
Exploring the dark side of poetry, how poets are inspired to write, and how we're all standing on the shoulders of poets who've come before us.  Also in honor of my oldest brother, Dan, who left me one poem before he died called, "Is it dark inside of snowballs?" which I've posted here before.
Terry Jordan Nov 2018
It feels good first
That punch you throw
Powered with adrenalin
Triumph!  you crow

Losing control
Each threat you shout
Driving Emotion prevails
Anger has clout

Primal howling
I  cannot speak
A volatile Damnation
Beneath my feet

A fiend unleashed
A dark winged thing
Wrenching the curtain aside
Madness is king

You’ve crossed the line
There is no doubt
Dimensions of cruelty
Madness wins out

No forgiveness
The devil cheers
Waylaid in selfish desires
Demonic fears

Fear holds its breath
Sardonic gloom
Too turbulent to control
Foreboding doom

Peace is exiled
No looking back
Thrusts of heartless violence
Repression hacked

Paradise lost
Cherished hatred
Surging over boundaries
Nothing sacred

Stuff of nightmares
Robs me of sleep
Letting go with a vengeance
Monster’s relief

I cannot bear
This heavy weight
Id’s inner realm
Desolate hate

Transcendence shows
All states of thought
Each a world unto itself
Not shaken off

Silence that grudge
Revenge aint sweet
It turns back on you like a
Missile seeks heat
Terry Jordan Oct 2018
I used to have 4 brothers
And loved them all the same
The eldest used us siblings
For where to lay the blame

Hoping reincarnation
Proves true after a while
Dan said his fondest wish was
Return an only child

Soon I arrived, his sister
Right after Dan turned 2
He fed me peanut butter
Until my face turned blue

Dan denied that he loved me
As kids did, once or twice
But he jumped in to save me
When I fell through the ice

Surviving eighteen months then
My baby crib moved on
I moved to the bottom bunk
My next brother was born

Named for our dad’s Commander
World War II not fearing
Ted was sent to Vietnam
Where he would lose his hearing

Neighbors once thought we were twins
Blond hair and Dad’s blue eyes
Family strife split us apart
Though close in age and size

He can’t hear but does read lips
That bomb, it took its toll
Seems no single moment’s joy
PTSD took hold

Next came Bill when I was 6
AKA “Sweet William”
Boundless joy and endless love
His broad smiles worth millions

When I loved chocolate ice-cream
That was his favorite, too
He is my son’s Godfather
His wise words helped me through

I have no clue what ended
Brotherly affection
Before 2 brothers died he
Cut off real connection

Sam was born prematurely
When I was twelve years old
Spent 5 months incubating
Before we took him home

Our father’s disappointment
Sam never went to college
Didn’t want to play football
Was seeking other knowledge

Sam learned how engines functioned
By disassembling cars
Made candles in the basement
An Eagle Scout-golf star

A heart of gold he suffered
Much doggerel and strife
Alcohol’s what dogged him till
Tragically took his life

Divided family members
I’m actor and spectator
Seeking to forge connections
Reunion instigator

Some gather for funerals
A wedding now and then
I mourn, alone, Dan and Sam
Lament what might have been

Hadn’t been able to finish this piece until I took a long vacation. I still have 2 living brothers, but neither responds to my overtures. One can't hear me, and the other is not speaking.  New Englanders are known for denial and take-it- to-the-grave-grudges.  I guess I really don't want to know why.
Terry Jordan Sep 2018
I change my shoes and attitude
Some say I hate surprises
Desiring things to stay the same
Anxiety arises

Change a job, a change in age
Change your view or change your tone
The Age of Aquarius turned the page
To change your tune-you’re not alone

Do I fight the change, ignite the change
The change I fear, so hard so cruel
You can win a war yet take the blame
When Yin and Yang begin to duel

Like loose change dropped in a jar
Changing partners, changing clothes
Change my house and buy that car
Bless the highs but curse the lows

Pain and Joy, so intertwined
A change of heart, a change of flight
Accepting wisdom, change my mind
A shift to the left, the change feels right

The change I see, or don’t see comin’
I move in a different direction
Confidently whistling and hummin’  
Too late upon closer inspection

Change for the better or change can ****
Lead in the water has been unfurled
Change means growth-you cannot stand still
Change your position and change the world
Thinking of David Bowie and his song, Changes
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