"conflicts" poems
Challenges and competition notified.
Every step codified.
Tears and sweat pacified.
Achievements and advancement glorified.
Regression and depression terrified.
Muscles and struggle verified.
Foes and conspirators mortified.
Plans of progress and purpose sanctified.
Grace and the Goodness of God testified.
Sweet pleasures of life.
Trials, Torment and Torture.
Eulogies and Elegies of visible characters.
Promising and decisive.
No conflicts, No dilemma.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
What they don’t tell you in school,
while you’re trying to remember
the difference between prophase and metaphase
chromosomes and chromatin
is that really
biology isn’t science
biology is life
See, divorce
divorce is like mitosis
slow to start, but quick to finish
Begins at prophase
when conflicts arise as your family’s nucleolus,
your family’s unity
disappears
Your carefree life, your chromatin,
coil and change
become tight, tense chromosomes
Outside forces, mitotic spindles,
residing in the cytoplasm
start creeping towards your parents
to separate their souls
Metaphase:
you’re all lined up
single file
ready for battle
Centrosomes, middles of each new life,
poised opposing each other
with their spindles latched onto you kinetochore, your middle,
like a dog with it’s leash
Anaphase:
everything separates,
your world’s torn apart
and you’re left silently
watching
alone
as your sister is torn from your life
Telophase:
the pain starts to lessen
as you uncoil
and your broken family’s nuclear membrane
begins to reform
Once the paper’s are signed
once the cell’s wall’s rebuilt
your old life is over
and the process
it’s finished
See, they don’t tell you
don’t think you need to know
that
divorce is simply biology
and
mitosis
well, it’s life
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Teamwork Solves The Problem
They say “two minds are better than one.”
Nothing could be truer.
As I watched a friend and his relative, patiently, take apart and fix a broke appliance.
I relaxed and observed.
The two had the item repaired and figured out quicker than one whose questions are the parts in which the other can answer when there, with him, aiding in the battle of winning the war to piece together a needed tool , that needs mending.
Through answered questions from a partner well answering problems, the other had faced,
piecing together the problem, through help and sweet and strong reliance.
Upon another to help in rougher times.
I remarked on such, the phrase, as they smiled.
In agreement…it wa voted unanimously.
That :”two minds are better than one”
Simultaneously….we all nodded.
It was a new motto on which we have started to have styled…
Even more so, even a “ton” of minds wishing to achieve the same goal - to fix a broken moment…
or even a city that is in disrepair.
such, through unity, the item was finished and the conversation had ended….
It is alike war and conflicts…… ….
Having people, ready with you, voluntarily by your side…
Is better than being too tall for one’s own good…or even better motives…
If he fails to see that “one is not an island…”
“Nor is one an army…”
Common Sense tells him to ask for “brother’s in arms”
which overrides any strong form of blind pride..
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:53 PM UTC
Whirlpool of whirling quaint
Inequality brewing in the
Winepress of smithereens
Fragile polity.
Voices of weariness cried
Out from the wasteyard of
Waste for succour,
Pointing fingers of
Recrimination towards
The abyss of drouth ,
Entangled in conflicts
Of interest.
Winds of improvised emblem
Bearing hunchback of
Woes,
Raising hands from the
Drowning deep sea
For rescue like
A dejected beautiful
Vigaro in a
Turbulent ocean of quarrel
With her spouse.
Whereas reddish fluids of life
Runs across the same veins
And arteries of haves
And haves-not but
Cottage of interests
Hoisting avalanche of
Rainbow-coloured flags
Standing aloof on the
Pole of misrule,
Demarcating their interests.
No accommodation for wants
In the corridor of affluence.
Wants on a trade mission
With wealthy but caged in
The confinement of wealth.
Winds of inequality blew
Whirler of wants into
The marrow of the
Haves-not.
Rains of inequality passing
Through a lockage of lack
Into the improvised,
Doling-out poverty to
Gain the control of
Wealth.
Alas! Blindness sees inner
Vision of darkness from
The households of political
lamia.
Alas! Deafness hears
Discordant vague voices
Of failure from the forest
of frustration.
Alas! Dumbness speaks
Language of gnomes out
Of the vale of forgotten
treasures.
Alas! A four year tenancy
turning into decades
of challenges.
But we shall revive our hope
and raise our voices
tomorrow.
Feb 22, 2019
Feb 22, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Oh, they a strange brew.
Almost like a union crew.
One minute disagreeing.
Then the next tight as can be.
In house fighting that makes you question their love.
Just to see them turn around and show it.
Siblings, only they can explain it.
Getting to the truth is hard as can be.
Unless you have a young one.
Who will tell on everyone?
Siblings, only they understand that connection.
Parents know their bond.
That if attacked by others.
They gather together to bare arms.
And it's not with any guns.
The world of a child is simply hard to explain.
The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain.
And avoid coats in the snow.
And when questioned about , how things got broken?
Then between them nobody really know.
Siblings, we all been there before.
Unless you're the only child.
Then you just don't know.
This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older.
Their motto , somethings parents don't need to know.
Unless it's something vital.
Then the protection goes out the door.
Yes, there'll be fights.
And lectures from parents.
There's be wearing of clothes that belonged to others.
Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before?
And give you the option of taking them off freely.
Before they assist you to the floor.
Yes, siblings.
They hard to explain.
Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for.
Not by parents that know about these things.
Books wasn't going to be their teacher.
Because books didn't raise them in anyway.
That this new generational thing.
Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved?
The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God.
Where we see the same conflicts?
Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother.
Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
Life is a lifelong
Balancing act
Time that's wasted
Never comes back
But hear my quandary
It's really quite queer
What happens when my job
Conflicts with my career?
What happens when my schooling
Disrupts my education?
When federal government policies
Keep me from graduation?
What happens when my GPA
Keeps me out of universities?
What happens when what I need to do
Conflicts with my responsibilities?
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
Oh, they a strange brew.
Almost like a union crew.
One minute disagreeing.
Then the next tight as can be.
In house fighting that makes you question their love.
Just to see them turn around and show it.
Siblings, only they can explain it.
Getting to the truth is hard as can be.
Unless you have a young one.
Who will tell on everyone?
Siblings, only they understand that connection.
Parents know their bond.
That if attacked by others.
They gather together to bare arms.
And it's not with any guns.
The world of a child is simply hard to explain.
The way they wants to go outside and play in the rain.
And avoid coats in the snow.
And when questioned about , how things got broken?
Then between them nobody really know.
Siblings, we all been there before.
Unless you're the only child.
Then you just don't know.
This love bond stays between some as they simply begins to grow older.
There motto , something parents don't need to know.
Unless it's something vital.
Then the protection goes out the door.
Yes, there'll be fights.
And lectures from parents.
There'll be wearing of clothes that belonged to others.
Who hadn't had the chance to wear them before?
And give you the option of taking them out freely.
Before they assist you to the floor.
Yes, siblings.
They hard to explain.
Counselors advice isn't asked or requested for.
Not by parents that know about these things.
Books wasn't going to be their teacher.
Because books didn't raise them in anyway.
That this new generational thing.
Where judges and courts thinks social workers needs to be involved?
The best instructions is in the book about the teaching of God.
Where we see the same conflicts?
Siblings, there's no one better to have than a sister or brother.
Who had a mother or father to witness it all?
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 9:47 AM UTC
From the ashes I descend,
Rising among the flames,
As shades of red.
Orange and yellow,
Blend within the explosion,
Of my rebirth,
Claiming my life force once more.
My deep hazel eyes,
Drenched in golden brown,
Surrounded by a burst of jade,
Speckled with dark green,
Reveal my humility,
Compassion and genuine kindness,
Allowing you to behold,
The window to my soul.
The vessel,
Containing my spirit,
Conflicts with the feminine demeanor,
Exposing sincerity,
Comforting hands of a care-giver,
The voice of loyalty,
Gently escaping lips,
Tears of empathy,
Seeping with understanding,
Kisses of affection,
As soft spoken words,
Depict desires,
Hopes and the warmth,
Of pure love.
Mystery envelops my origin,
Becoming a mystical being,
With the ability to heal,
The potential to inspire,
Living proof of an alleged myth,
Yielding in protection,
As my plethora of feathers,
Shield the individuals I adore,
From darkness,
Attempting to swallow the light,
We yearn to discover.
Blind Thoughts of denial,
Shall forsake your eyes,
If you pass judgment,
Upon me,
For my cloak of skin,
Concealing my true beauty.
As a Phoenix,
I refuse to watch,
The children of diversity,
Suffer degradation,
Living in fear of discrimination,
Stifling the right to love another,
To dress in garments,
That correlate the body with the mind.
I shall rage to cease,
The hands of violence leaving bruises,
Ignorance stripping,
Breaths of air from a pair of lungs,
As homophobia,
Transphobia, and intolerance,
Deplete individuality from a heart,
Deserving liberty,
The pursuit of happiness,
A chance to survive.
The Earth returns my soul,
To reap the love,
Concealed in assumptions,
And sow acceptance into,
The fields of society,
As I continue,
To soar into a cerulean sky.
Jul 15, 2012
Jul 15, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
Reflection in the water
Created silent ripples
Interaction with self
Or maybe the alter ego
Trying to catch a glimpse
Of the world within
If only momentarily
Mirrors gave perfection
To the reflection
Only to stay in the mind
The conflicts between
Inner and outer world
Sometimes shattered
By the truth
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Human directives, veracities unverified
Bellies belching with anger, murderers
Udders dripping hate, foundling banters
Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate
Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink
Tear motions and debates of inequality
My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise
All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield
Emergency alarms sirens from 2003
The indefinite complications and hunger
A land of the displaced, starving nomads
Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts
Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious
A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws
Inhumane human interrogations persists
A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve
Force-feeding, torturous measures applied
All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed
A Rwanda slain in divide and rule
Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed
Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves
Machetes slashing necks and hands
A lust of power, a genocide slaughter
The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch
Autocratic regime boring divisions
Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust
The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles
Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill
Indifference pooled in pits and camps
The institutional social indoctrination
The honor and killing to expose shame
The violation and dishonor of moral fabric
For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values
Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit
Confessional secrets of only what lays within
A torment watching witnesses, all dangling
Marxists calls ships to stow ashore
Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit
Invalid contracts awaits signatures
The white immigrants to be enslaved
All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor
Wage packages taken to pay for freedom
Humans bought and sold to be owned
Slaves yorked and counted as assets
Bounded to serve plantations and homes
A human, non human, a chattel, a slave
A debt ******* offended and *****
Untamed and made to obey a master
A falling global strings unturned
Tunes strumming hate, war and pain
Human trafficking, violence, inequality
Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists
Commercialism, zero hour contracts
For if we have no rights, I have none
For if we have no peace I have none
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
3/5/2014
Decisions,
Directions,
Conflicts,
Connections.
Who's to say I know best?
Everyday is just a test.
To move or to stay.
To breathe or decay.
To love or abate.
To rebel or obey.
To commit or to stray.
Every kiss begins with K,
but then you factor in fate.
I lead a life of ambition,
with no room for indecision.
But I just don't know what's next.
All I do is try my best.
I can't complain or compare,
The results would be unfair.
I have lots, and others little,
yet life, still gets fickle.
I have little family and fewer friends,
who stay until the end?
I'm not worried or sad.
I just wish that I had:
stayed,
prayed,
paid,
or given away.
You live and you learn.
You decide and get burned,
but thus is life.
Everything happens for a reason.
We'll see what happens next season.
Time.
Time to pick.
Time to choose.
Time to stick.
No time to lose.
Compare.
Contrast.
Pro vs Con.
"Decisions, decisions."
I knew all along.
Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC
Things can only disrupt you as much as you allow.
If this seems hard to see or needlessly abstract,
consider the Factor that is Self-Discipline:
If any factor equals Zero,
the product is also Zero.
-
I mean this in a general sense; applied over time.
Things can be extremely bothersome in any given moment
but once those bothersome moments
reach forwards (and maybe even backwards) in time
******* up a perfect good "Now" then,
I say that it's a bothersome burden
which is (most probably) a result of unresolved internalized conflicts or Shadow.
This is where Self-Discipline becomes a Factor
and my analogy takes flight, in context.
Maybe it's only true for me, but I have my suspicions that I am not so unique in this way.
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
*Our bodies are facing
The arms of dawn.
Conflicts of our skins
From night's reverie
Floating with fading purple.
Still lost in the depth of
Your starry mouth,
Particles of me
Merging into the universe.
Mingled thoughts
Under mingled fingers
Making galaxies crumbled
Time after time
Inside my closed eyes,
As I'm being washed by your
Warm luminosity.*
Dec 27, 2016
Dec 27, 2016 at 9:40 AM UTC
I pray to the great spirit
guide me through this pain
this world conflicts
show me a world that holds no lies
that treats us like convicts
abandoned by society
in a world we once walked so free
Show me a setting sun
where blood never flows
like rivers turned red
where another one dies
underneath these blood red skies
Guide me through this land so dead
where visions stay in my head
teach me things nobody knows
when this day is gone
and all has come undone
Give me the strength I need
to make this a better place
when my people bleed
from this world falling from grace
Spiritwind ©1998
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC
Connect like comets,
got thoughts but won’t comment,
controversial as a result of being honest,
honestly sick of the politics & sick of the nonsense,
actually I’m sick of it all to be honest but still I won’t *****
conflicted by the conflicts that’re inflicted on my conscience,
from the constant onslaught of plots that they’ve got that I’m barraged with,
in this enormous orbit that we’re all in it’s ugly & gorgeous I’m nauseous but conscious,
just wishing they’d stop it & I’ve lost my train of thought but haven’t yet lost consciousness,
at,
a house party in The Hamptons,
July 6th. 2018,
last week D.C.,
next week Miami,
bless the vibes like we bless the mics,
that’s why they want us around,
if I get the invite & have the time I might take that flight,
because I’ve been all around but still up to get gown,
buzzing off of a mixture of different chemicals,
feeling Sharon ****** operating off of basic instinct,
Semi-Quasi-Serious-Centennial-American-Millennials,
were are what is in so we tell them to get out with their doubts & we dismiss what they think,
live big & still get enough to give more than a little bit away to various charities,
with 3rd Eye Vision that’s 20/20 so they can’t pull a fast one on me,
in the perfect position I see everything while most of them can barely see anything,
not kidding but we do play no kids no way,
our artistic creations are what we will leave behind as our living legacies,
staying grounded at the same time we’re all stars outta this world like a fabulous galaxy,
where we connect like comets,
got thoughts but won’t comment,
controversial as a result of being honest,
honestly sick of the politics & sick of the nonsense,
actually I’m sick of it all to be honest but still I won’t *****
conflicted by the conflicts that’re inflicted on my conscience,
from the constant onslaught of plots that they’ve got that I’m barraged with,
in this enormous orbit that we’re all in it’s ugly & gorgeous I’m nauseous but conscious,
just wishing they’d stop it & I’ve lost my train of thought but haven’t yet lost consciousness…
∆ Aaron LaLux ∆
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 12:52 AM UTC
As the wind blows across the fiery desert,
The desperate people of Yemen sigh.
How many more will suffer today?
How many more children will cry?
A Saudi-led coalition
Strikes with a heartless disregard,
Leaving behind misery--
Death and destruction its calling card.
Choking the poor country, the Saudis
Organized a major blockade,
Cutting off vital medicine,
Food, and water, and stopping all trade.
Cluster bombs have fallen on cities.
Thousands of innocent people have died.
Hospitals and schools have been hit.
How can such horror be justified?
Millions of people risk starvation
If all the bombing does not end.
The Saudis hunger for more and more weapons,
And they have billions of dollars to spend.
A bomb made by Lockheed Martin
Hit a Yemeni school bus
Killing fifty-one people, and hurting
Many more, thanks to us.
A U.S. bomb hit funeral mourners;
One destroyed a marketplace.
That our support causes such
Atrocities is a disgrace.
The people suffer from cholera--
Something that is hard to avoid
When a country's sanitation
Facilities are being destroyed.
A massive humanitarian crisis
Plagues the country despite appeals
To end the conflict by caring nations,
While major players dig in their heels.
Sunni-Shiite conflicts continue
With innocent citizens caught in between.
Callous leaders turn their heads,
Afraid to speak up or intervene.
-by Bob B (10-17-18)
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
We know the word.
It's applied to many things.
We disagree to it use.
Simply, we acting the nature of being a human being.
Just because siblings doesn't get along.
It doesn't mean they are dysfunctional.
This just the so call experts speaking.
We all know doctors doesn't agree.
So, how can they apply this tag dysfunctional to anyone?
We could say it were a purpose of God.
To see, how we adjust to our conflicts concerning love.
We saw Cain and Abel have disagreement.
And know how that conclusion ended.
Even family that pretends to get along.
Usually exposes they were fronting all along.
We see this constantly in the news.
Where politicians not even kin to one another?
Seems to act like sisters, mothers, fathers, and brothers.
And this includes aunts and uncles too.
So, are they dysfunctional too?
Because they see things in a different light.
Experts, say it is.
We common sense people just say, it's life.
We not suppose to agree on everything in life.
Once, a word makes it into our vocabulary.
Then people starts using it.
As a every day saying
You dysfunctional.
I'm dysfunctional.
When in truth.
We just being us.
We know the way to love.
We just refuse to show it.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
Humanity's ego, to resort to violence,
To settle conflicts, makes no sense.
And yet we still have not learned,
The art of peace for which we yearned.
To love our neighbour as ourself,
And to put our grievance on the shelf.
Could this be in our gracious hands
to bring compassion to troubled lands?
With each hill we have to climb,
Life is lived one day at a time.
Let the tears of yesterday's storm,
Bring a smile to a new day born.
For everything to be humane,
We need to be compassionate and sane.
Too lightly on lifes scales
Compassion weighs, and prevails.
© Hazel
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 2:36 PM UTC
Time moves on and people revert back to their old ways leaving chaos in their wake.
Spoiling memories, past and future.
I am not a toy.
I can't be tossed about the room. I don't work on demand.
I am Pinocchio.
A Marionette without the strings.
Free to walk the world.
Free to sing.
Free to dance and move to the pace of my own drum.
I spoil no one.
I am me.
I am independent.
Stop trying to tug at non-existent Nylon strings because I will not be controlled.
I don't like to be ordered about.
Left feeling lonely and sad.
Used.
I do what I don't really want to do.
We fight on new levels each time we are together.
I cover up my tears and woes.
Put on a happy face.
Im sick of the stormy weather.
I break promises and I lie to protect crimes and sorrow.
I am a Monster.
Dec 31, 2009
Dec 31, 2009 at 6:11 AM UTC
At one
Life had begun,
I could walk,that was fun,
Always smothered with kisses,mummy's yummy bun.
At two,
I grew too,
Did everything I wanted to do,
Again and again,then undo,
Refused to go to the loo,
Loved to spill the shampoo,
Stubborn as a mule,
With tears, buckets of boo.
At three ,
I was free,
No pampers,mum in glee,
Went to loo to ***
Hated milk, loved tea,
Fell often, grazed my knees.
At four,
Could do small chores,
Wipe a spill on the floor,
For visitors open door,
My own clothes I wore,
A glass of water I could pour.
At five,
I was alive,
A queen bee in a hive,
I learned to thrive,
First time I learned to swim and dive.
At six ,
I was a bag of tricks,
Just for kicks,
Smart at solving conflicts,
Easily able to come out of a fix,
Clever and confident, teachers'
best pick.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Scrapers will no longer scrape.
Fighters soon to lose the short fight.
Pilots are forced to surrender control.
Snakes on a plane will bank into a roll,
a scene that really no longer is scenic.
Leaders still read while getting a scare.
Huge landmarks that I swear were once there,
bridges in shortage are counting the tolls.
Dust that eventually will never be settled,
liquid support that used to be metal,
big bad crude that never was good—
things impossible suddenly could.
Answers quickly try to be drummed.
Future conflicts guaranteed to be won,
particles blocking our UV death sun,
days become decades and turkey is done.
Brave individuals are no longer bold.
Families’ histories are quite often told,
a baby’s bottle empty with no one to hold.
Government figures tilted but somehow sold
parades in protest with a circus in town.
A tiger got out, but why can’t he growl?
Seems that the cat’s got somebody’s tongue.
Another channel covers son after son,
numbers mounting, but not the right ones.
Cabbies still nose their thumb after thumb,
training centers destroyed one after one.
We should’ve just played “Drop the **** bomb!”
Fear is good, and of course good is feared;
it’s the only thing that drives us way over here.
Just like the Bible, it’s mostly made up.
The supersonic jet has just hit a rut.
The dirtiest of bombs versus our Smith and Wesson.
“Come on gang, why would you even question?”
Like death and taxes—there’s none that’s more sure,
but then there’s the free upcoming history lesson.
“Ain’t gonna do it” acting just like his pop.
This rancher really means it when tossing the slop.
“Still can’t find him—he’s with boys in Brazil.”
What’ve they done lately to lighten the till?
It’s time for the Allies to storm up this hill.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Rules, policies and conflicts imprison you.
Protest and righteousness freed you.
In America, we called it segregation.
Twisted words of countries like South Africa called it Apartheid.
Separation of the races accepted as legal at a certain time.
What about injustice that makes ANY race feels correct?
But like that old saying goes, things changes with time.
Which Nelson Mandela you eventually saw within your life time.
It's always those that faced the harshness of trouble that's the most forgiving.
And many of times, it's the innocent prisoner.
You led.
While holding onto no grudge.
You stood strong against those that refused to change.
In America that's still a familiar ring.
Ghandi, King and others fought with words.
Similar to the qualities and traits of our Lord Jesus.
It's always the peacekeepers that showcase the hate.
While the supporters of wars stay quiet silently supporting the crime.
So, so long Nelson.
God's waiting for your soul.
You serve your purpose.
You serve your goal.
Nelson Mandela, son of the motherland.
You will always be remember, as a good man.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
Stone-like, steel eyes
biting down the
sweet, polished apple.
Silky smooth skin slithering
on the thoughts of the tempted.
Desire of the improper,
cause conflicts to the conflicted.
Poison awaits,
with 2000 different faits.
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 6:16 AM UTC
on your birthday
I wrote a letter comprised
of all that I adored;
words articulated in strikethroughs
and barrelled with smiley faces
to disguise my evident
addiction to your smile
--to your happiness.
and although I value your happiness
the letter remains at the bottom
of my computer
untouched, unsent
because my heart is already
shred to pieces, and the thought
of you dismissing
the words I poured myself in
is unbearable.
words;
they never articulated properly
although I pride myself a writer;
I addressed situations I overanalysed
over countless nights of lost sleep,
where your mouth dropped,
your eyes lowered
your breath grew heavier after
another brutal attack from my unaffectionate
words.
I noted little things;
conflicts within yourself
and wrote about them,
my remedy a simple melody
contrasting the bitter tunes
spat at you, through widened eyes
and curled lips.
That letter is unsent
because it exposes too much
about how often I think
dream
feel
about you.
while I say very little
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
We give thanks for all who have
enriched our lives with their presence;
may we honor them
by always being present for others.
We give thanks for those who
selflessly serve in our armed forces,
for the quiet sacrifices
of their family and friends
and for those who witness for peace
and work to end the conflicts of war.
We are thankful for the tears of the poor
and their example of fortitude
in the daily struggle to live
and for those that extend a hand
and offer a vision of hope
and a pathway to advancement.
We are thankful for our rich abundance
and the blessed spirit that leads us
to generously share it with others.
We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers
and students that are eager
to use that wisdom to better the world.
We are thankful for courageous truth tellers
and the hard truths they speak
and to people of good will that are open
and willing to listen and act on those truths.
We are thankful for the care givers
and their veneration of life
and to those who receive care
and fill the heart of the giver
with fathomless gratitude.
We are thankful for people
of humility and good will
and their blessed example
of quiet service and grace.
We are thankful for children
as an embodiment of our hopes
and the future flowering
of our greatest aspirations.
We are thankful for
our animal friends
and their example
of trusted companionship
and unconditional love.
We are thankful for sobriety
and our ability to discern,
see, discover and experience
the daily grace life confers upon us.
We are thankful for those
who are no longer with us,
may our time on earth be
a blessing to others
as they were to us.
We are thankful to
a higher power
that keeps us right sized,
humble and grateful for
one more day on life's path.
Selah
Wishing All the Beloved
a Happy Thanksgiving
Peace and Prayers
Music Selection:
Shirley Horn, Here's To Life
Oakland
11/25/09
jbm
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC