Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The
path leading
to radical acceptance
originates with a pause.
Stepping out of your solitude,
promptly let go of fear-driven reactivity.
Embracing and accepting all of your being,
surround yourself with the warmth of loving kindness.
Begin now to forgive yourself and others again and again.
Know that your capacity to be completely open brings wholeness.
         There  are no formulas for navigating  all of life’s situations.
Listen with your natural intelligence and wise heart then,
by breaking out of the old confining patterns,
freedom and healing are yours to hold.
As awareness to truth deepens.  
show gratitude to life
that is now
open for
you
If we were only
Made of hearts
Seen by the way we beat and sway,

I fear that I will be found out,
The moment
That you
Look my way.
~
I have known
A heart or two
Who have tried to move in sync,

But rhythms never measured up,
And still
My heart
Would seek.
~
If we were only
Made of hearts
Searching for a love sublime,

I can't deny mine starts and stops,
And falls
With yours
In time.
~
If you never
Get the chance
To see my light that shines,

A sunrise hue my heart's adorned
With yours
So very
Close to mine.
~
But we're not only made of hearts,
So this truth
I'll proudly say.

Eternal rhythm
May flow
Through you,

But it's me
That's been
Swept away...


~ *©NDHK
You told me to hold your heart,
So I took it and let it lull me to sleep.
I felt the beat
And knew it was for me
And it made me
Happy.

You told me to hold your heart,
So I took it and wore it on my sleeve.
I displayed it
For the world to see
And it made me
Happy.

You told me to hold your heart,
But what you didn't know is I asked so, too.
You didn't take it
You didn't display it
And I thought I was
Happy

I found my heart,
So I took it and put it back together.
But it wasn't the same.
It was never the same.
And I knew I wasn't
Happy

But still I held my heart,
And I still wore it on my sleeve.
Beaten and broken
For the world to see
And I have found how to be
Happy.
 Oct 2015 tom krutilla
ThePoet
I embrace the terror 
inside my cries,
and face my hurt
with gentle eyes

And to some it's
found to be a gain,
to become immune
to all the pain

©
It lurks in the shadows waiting to pounce
Knocking, knocking on the door of self-doubt
Seizing the moment when your mind is most frail
To whisper the lie that you are destined to fail

How to muster the courage to use your voice?
To stand one’s ground amid the deafening noise?
Fear claims that you have no power to influence
A wicked world flooded with malice and avarice

“Who are you to spark change?” you hear Fear say
A nobody, an impotent soul who wouldn't last a day
In the midst of pressure where all eyes are fixed on you
A slip, a fall, will mark your inevitable doom

“Silence!” you command the ghastly parasite gnawing at your heart
I am in control of my own destiny; I will not fall apart
I forbid you to discourage me from pursuing my dreams
I will not back down; I will move forward, you scream

Fear flees for its life, as if caught in a storm of hail and lightning
It cringes at the sight of your courage, oh so frightening
It melts into the shadows once more
Watching you take to the skies and soar
Find coastlines along the edges of your body,
mark your territory
and invite gallant young men to try their hand
at crossing a huge wall made of crystal glass
and steel verses.

Let them be afraid of the tombstones gathered
at the gates; tremble at their own risk
because your heart can't handle an unsteady hand:
it's filled to the brim.
And as the tourney dies down,
as the men scratch the surface
and leave with pieces of your arms,
your eyelashes, your cheeks,
there will be one
who is there when the dust settles.

Allow him to love you,
in a most consuming way; let him
take your body a shrine and let him
call it his only home.

Finally,
break his heart,
and watch as the poetry
spills out of you like
an angry river, from a spear
he wishes he'd hit into your chest
not cupid's arrow instead.
Mumbling.
 Apr 2015 tom krutilla
Erica Jong
You call me
courageous,
I who grew up
gnawing on books,
as some kids
gnaw
on bubble gum,

who married disastrously
not once
but three times,
yet have a lovely daughter
I would not undo
for all the dope
in California.

Fear was my element,
fear my contagion.
I swam in it
till I became
immune.
The plane takes off
& I laugh aloud.
Call me courageous.

I am still alive.
S
   *p

      i
     r
   a
    l
  i
   n
     g

into a drunken, ****** abyss
Falling through the pit as I'm trying to write this
The tunnel is so dark, so I light up and choke
Shrouded and clouded in thick hazy smoke

And as I hit rock bottom, I find some shrooms
"They must be for me." I so proudly presume
I eat them up, nothing happens at all
(a note reads)
"One side makes you small, the other side tall"

Wandering further, still smoking my habit
I see a well dressed, stuck up looking rabbit
And he rushes out to a party of three
Where they are all mad and they're all drinking tea

But I'm not interested in tea, so I stay no longer
I'm looking for a beverage a little bit stronger
Finding my way to the Red Queen's castle
To ask her for ***** and give her a hassle

When I met with the Queen I asked if she had some bud
"The mushrooms you left me were a bunch of duds."
She loudly told me she could lighten my head
So she chopped it clean off, and now I am **dead
Next page