Human Journey
    +  faith
    + love
+ compassion
+ forgiveness
+  gratitude
+ optimism
+  prayer
+  guides
_____

Joy, Peace, Harmony

QUIET
on the HP western front
of my Home feed.
It’s roads are empty.
Its resident poets seasoned
with gifts aren't walking with pen canes.
Or driving cars of visions.

Guess they're all
in a different cyber town
OR INSIDE THEIR OWN HOUSE HEARTS.

PERHAPS
after some clouds in mind
bring rains to community,
a rainbow of words will
come and my home town
will be FULL AGAIN.

Can daisies speak?
He loves me. He loves me not
He loves me. He loves me not.
He loves me. He loves me not.
He loves me.
I sure hope so.

We on Hello Poetry
and all sites of poetic nature
are a family.
We Bond with the best
Poe, Dickinson Whitman
Frost, Platt and Cummings
All those whose heart
expelled masterpieces
that world celebrates.
Who know how to tame the written word.

We are all lion tamers
where are pens are whips
and fortitude outweighs fear.

Grand Family, move over
I the poet is born
growing stronger everyday.

Move over for I claim
my place as you hug me
in ethers of forever.

The rest of the world
just doesn't see me yet.
But they will. They will.

Operation

Operation of
Galactic Light infusion
begins,
as currents of air grace my breath.
As beings of light assist with their presence.

Operation of
Galactic Light infusion
begins,
as I awaken to know who I am.
As I whisper gratitude for everything.

Operation of
Galactic Light infusion
begins,
as I release old ego mind patterns.
As I’m finally free to stand up
and make a difference.

Here I am
standing on threshold of breath
inside new day.
Where birds whisper in ear
with divine song.
And heart beats
in vibrations of moment.

I feel tickled.
Tickled to sing
dancing gracefully.
Tickled to move
with gratitude
inside dreams.

I feel blessed
Blessed as avatar  
weaving in life’s breath.      
Blessed to  
create with
spark of God.

Here I am
standing in my own creation
inside new day.
Where mind patterns disintegrate.
And miracles expand to reality.

I feel free.
Free to live
aligned with purpose.
Free to explore
with compassion formula
in this changing world.

I am a poet ******
Pen is needle
Words adrenalines flow,
through blood stream.
A high so habit forming
with no cure and end in sight.

Breath bonds as cost.
Moment is drug
Supplier is life.

My number two accomplice
stands tall by my side
helping to get my thoughts scribed.

He is my friend
a genus of sorts
rearranging verbs with linking pronouns.

When he speaks it’s gently
to cover page with a word blanket.
When he dances he celebrates
to make me sing in songs of prose.

My number twos last name is pencil
and I bow to our connection.

On cobble stone street
people move in haste
as street connoisseur of sound stands.

He’s the mighty busker
with instrument of choice
poised and ready.

He’s a special breed
whose stage is one
in every city and town.

He's there to share grand talent
and give one a taste
with hopes a coin gets tossed.

Buskers attire matters little
for his art is there to
benefit.

Many passerby’s move
inattentive, uncaring
stuck in their whirlwind of their life.

Many a bystander
will listen for less than a second
breezing by without proper
acknowledgement.

Oh to the street performer
I pay homage
to the one who gifts currents of air.

Oh to the side walk master
I bow as my coin gets tossed
with prayer...
That their talents get posted
and their You-tube goes viral.

The fool, doth think he’s wise,
strutting around
acting inside his own reality.  
Moving in playful style,
as others think he brainless be.

While wise man, doth think he fool,  
swaggering under thesis
of living his own truths.
Dreaming grandly
with acts in mind like fool
few rarely see.

Touch the moment with it's unlimited possibilities,
by breathing into the heart.
By trusting in the orchestration of spirit.
By aligning with your authentic self
who is divine and capable of manifesting.

Dreams why must you disappear so fast?
Running back into cravens of mind, unreachable.
I hunt for you with intent
trying to capture the grand adventure.
The trip that holds hidden meanings
but you play the elusive game
making recall almost impossible.

Glimpses come through in split second,
to be put together like puzzle
with many a missing piece.
Once eyes open, all is lost
to the present moment.
Daylight quickly kidnaps
thoughts re-routing focus to new day.

Alas perhaps tonight
I will dream again
to have another try
in recalling them
before dreams play cat and mouse
and I am the hungry mouse.

May all awaken on this day,
to the gifts present to us
by merely claiming them.
And live in this
earth playground with abundance
before
we travel back to spirits reality.


StarBG © 2017

Your eyes they travel
in my road of poetry.
They meander toward heart
as rivers of verse anchor.

Your eyes are a gift
crystal and grand.
They are the window
to align voice to sing
and ears to hear.

Your eyes will launch
you the reader into day
to flow in your greatness.

To flow as your meant to.
As I celebrate
you in the place of your lives.

Just think
with over 7 billion people
In the world...
it means there are more than seven billion stories to be told harboring in Gods consciousness.
Each tale is unique integrating dark to light. Poems are in abundance as well.

That means God is a hell of a story teller.

In the parish of my creative mind,
at alter of pen and light
I stand.
Speaking to congregation of readers.

My message is simple:
Love thyself and love others.

My song is gently:
Listen to music of your heart
so you live with compassion.

My sermon is delicate:
Move with Gods spark which is
infused within your being.

My love is strong,
as I bow to your greatness.
and thank you for your patronage.

Your welcome to stop by anytime.
for I live in a church of love.

Through pen and pad I send out love.
I send it out so far.
Cause I love to scribe I do
I shine just like a Star.

My words they shine like diamonds bright.
They shine both night and day.
They are filled with hope and dreams,
for all to sing and play.

Play inside ones great, great dreams.
They're meant to hold so tight.
Knowing all are filled with light,
that shines with love so bright.

Everyone is a true gift.
I say this truth so loud.
Move inside your divine forms,
to stand and walk so proud.

Walk to dance, and move so free.
Its what we’re meant to do.
As I bow, I will write now,
to send this poem to you.

I send it out to all that read,
on site of hello Poetry.
As you move where you may live,
I am grateful to thee.

So I end this poem now to move
inside my day so fine.
I do know inside my heart,
we all are so divine.


StarBG © 2017

I be Lancelot of love
riding my stallion in breath.
I move over hilltops
shouting positive affirmations
I gallop in heart
feeling an inner power.
I trot cross fields
of beautiful sunflowers,
recalling who I am.

I am Mistress Lancelot
sharing my love
with the world.

I trapeze with breath and eyes
cross page of write
It tickles in a golden tone
that opens heart.

I swing from word to word,
Phase to phase,  
and Verse to Verse.

I glide in a place
where there’s no time
but for the bird
who whistles at dawn.

I trapeze graceful
with gratitude
for a poets treasure
that graces the mind.

Faceless workers
in factory far
from US home
work on garments
one after the other.

They labor sewing,
in repetitive fashion
day in, day out,
as I put garment on
in distant land.

I slip self into cloth
not thinking
someone worked
as I take for granted piece I hold.

A simple garment of
underwear, bra
fit well sewn with
face and nameless hands.

Thank you factory worker
who made it possible
to walk in store
and purchase wares.

Thanks for working
in slave-like factories
for my comfort
in modernized world.

Thank you faceless ones,
for moving in your life
to benefit me while corporations
fill their pockets.

I am grateful,
as my sun shines in West.
And I, wear undergarments
never to be seen.

Are you willing to let go of old beliefs your ancestors carried?

Ready to break the mold to sculpt a masterpiece with clay of life?

Ready to expand in heart
to have all your desires manifest?

I'm ready
to move aurthenticly
with my attributes, dreams,
purpose, and focus.

I'm ready
to jump into waters
To glide over waves under sun.

Yes, to my questions
laid out like map.
Yes to life.

Wisdom comes from mouth of young.
They speak profoundly and simple.
Radiating love inside moment.
Giving speech a chance to be pondered.

Just listen and you shall hear, a child’s sweet song.

Poetry comes from mouth of young.
They whispers like wind on warm day.
Speaking as if birds nesting on branch
Echoing as being, full of life’s air of rhyme.

Just listen and you shall hear, a child’s sweet song.

With focused mind
I took a drop of pain
mixed it with love,
and understanding its a tool.
The result the pain dissipated
to feel peace.

In my dreams
my inner child Alice
came giggling
with a present wrapped.

I smiled holding it
with excitement.
I too had a gift for her
causing her eyes
to open wide with pride

When I opened mine
it revealed
a box of 64 colorful pens
perfect for me to
write poems.

When she opened hers
it was a box of 64 crayons.
perfect for child play in afternoon.

When I awoke,
she with her crayons
and me with pens
played all day long.

with delicate sun,
warm breezes,
and hugs from beyond.

Open your heart with delicate song,
dancing heartbeats,
and rhythmic beauty.

Open your ears to sacred bird,
whispering rock
and beautiful breath of life.

The breath that anchors to
fill your day with gratitude
for the gift we are and walk on.

Without readers eyes,
poetry would be dormant,
drifting in field of page.
Readied for the sun
rays of brown
blue, amber or grey
to anchor in vellum sky.

Without your eyes
moments would
echo absent of clarity.
Poetic painter
would long for exposure
in museum of minds

Regardless pen moves on
trained to release
a road for one to follow.
The reader who carries
the sacred sun of eyes.

Roses are red.
My hearts blue.
Because I'm lonely.
without you.

Roses are pink
My heart is grey.
Hope you come round
so we can play.

Roses are yellow.
My heart is brown.
Cause you have gone,
far out of town.

Roses are purple.
My heart is dark.
My moneys gone now.
Marc your a shark.

My friendship
of heartbeat
sings in honor
for your being

Our friendship
becomes a deeper
bond more than
brother
of sister

Our friendship becomes
solidified and valued
inside crystals of love.

Crystals that shine
as we move
in the dance of life

Words rise spinning in
as if plane is Poets mind.
Each word a passenger.
Each phase a family traveling with destination of page tarmac.
Sometimes stanzes linger for tweaking
as if in holding pattern.
And when portal door opens
words scribe upon ground of page.
Glad to be grounded and done scribing home again.
Time where pen is refueled
for another flight of poem to begin.

One part love, and one part gratitude,
makes for a great cocktail to start day.
Drink it, the side effects are
peacefulness, and joy.

One part prayer, and one part compassion,
makes for a great cocktail to sip in day.
Drink it, the side effects are bliss and oneness.

One part hugs and one part trust,
makes a great night cap.
Drink it, the side effects are
pleasant dreams.
Pleasant dreams.

Every experience and interaction
can spark a poem
WHEN writer is aligned to emotional body of the human vessel.

Human angels are here
walking earth at this moment.

They stand with hands to assist.
Moving with watchful eyes,
to make a difference.

Their facade varied
with diverse nationalities,
who carry light from hearts
to move in grace.

They’re beautiful souls
who are nameless
with faces unclear
but hold my gratitude.

Walking angels...
the potential of all mankind
as a new era begins
and people awake.

Look deep in breath.
Find your angel seed within.
It pulsates with love’s light.
to echo in sacred song.

Desire is activation code.  
Focus key to change humanity.
Time invites, as all stand at gateway.
Align with your angel souls nature.

FIND IT. FEEL IT GROW. NURTURE IT.

And I with pen applaud
YOUR willingness
to grow love,
when the world needs it the most.

I offer YOU a hug
anchored from inside heart, and eyes.

I offer YOU compassion,
wrapped in a breath and sent in a thought.

I offer YOU love to expand your being
to recall we are one.

Gobble Gobble
turkeys everywhere echo
cross fields of autumn leaves.
They speak to one another
through ethers of sounds.

Its that time again
for whispering blessings
to their turkey family who are chosen
to decorate holiday tables.

Time to wish all the ****’s
they share earth with
a Happy Human day.

Time to go back
to fly to that campground
in the sky.

To write a poem
is to scribble from heart.
Some sad tearing mind apart.
Others happy to drift like lark.

To write is to enter,
a place with no time.
To give it musical rhyme
and echo divine.

To tweak it when
whispers vibrate
with phases to celebrate.

To edit a stanza so fine,
having words dance in line,

To touch eyes that open wide
the heart inside.

To born a poem and sign
for mountain words to climb.

A gift from soul to all
I answer the call

A-**!
A marching I shall go.

Don’t play the "what if," game (a tool of ego to keep you in heard and away from heart) it waists energy and limits the new moment from anchoring your dreams.

There are days
where
my pulsating self
aligns with sun
or stars.

To shine dancing in grace.
To radiate feeling empowered.
To vibrate part of the universe.

There are other days
where my light
is hid in clouds
from worries, judgements
and fears.

waiting to be set free inside love
To dance inside all obstacles.
To evolve part of the universe.

But as haze rises
and clouds dissipate
again sun and stars shine.
Shine to connect me with all facets of self,
to celebrate all I am.

Inside a vessel of feelings.
A vessel of light.