"creative" poems
The billowing sea
bows down dancing,
the cool one comes—
with love,
as if with a flute on the lips,
rising from the deep.
Listen to the flute.
Chorus clouds sing,
drifting down the blue river—
so mellifluous, into the sky they soar!
From the secret valley,
the punter sun ambles in,
carrying wonderlight,
as if it knows the flutist’s art—
knows the rise from the sea’s bedrock.
Every planet spins—
a flying bee drawn to the inner music.
Nothing pauses in the solar ring.
The Moon, waning and waxing,
in silhouette and half-light,
sways above the sea full of life.
It all began on this Earth, from our sea—
Him, the Sweet Creative Maestro rose from the midst,
and lifted the sun, the bumblebee.
All the stars in the galaxy
follow still—
they can't forget the ancient story.
Since then,
the sun, brightest in the band,
leads the mindful dance
enduring, homeward—
still following
the haunting, eternal tune, pure mighty
the one command: Qun. Be.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:26 PM UTC
A night owl in the harvest moon
was awake till the crack of the dawn
but wasn’t surfing online, wasn’t rowing
the boat in the digital river.
Deep down to a dreamweaving scene
that was, in musing, painstakingly creative.
Wait till you snap up a witty aphorism.
The darling buds of May will be in bloom.
The tickled pink nightingale too will
give out its voice, singing a song.
Save a copy and tweet it to all,
but do give us a demo, tell us a bit more.
Where does it shine and sizzle?
Where did the winter tuck away the rose?
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 11:43 AM UTC
Like the heavens and the skies
Like the deep seas so wide
When I am confident and true
When I have faith in you
Colour me blue, colour me blue
Like the royals of Great Britain
Like the noble in truth and ambition
In my wisdom, dignity and pride
In my mystery and grandeur so wise
Colour me purple, colour me purple
Like fire and blood
Like the intensity of a flood
In my strength and passion
In my desire, love and emotion
Colour me red, colour me red
Like the warmth of the tropics
Like the sun, my daily tonic
When I am determined and creative
When I am happy and attractive
Colour me orange, colour me orange
Like a smile so warm
Like joy even in a storm
When I am cheerful and happy
In my intellect, when I am savvy
Colour me yellow, colour me yellow
When I am all these and more
When I am despised or adored
With the colours of the rainbow
With the colours that make me glow
Colour me colours, colour me colours
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
I am warmhearted and icy cold,
with a pretty face that's getting old.
I am fragile yet tough as a man,
struggle thru life with no real plan.
I am petite and cuss like a trucker,
slightly naive, but I'm no sucker.
I am a sinner with a halo of gold,
an open book with secrets untold.
I am a hypocrite but always play fair,
a bleeding heart and I don't care.
I am a mother who acts like a child,
crazy, impatient and easily riled.
I am spontaneous and I am a bore,
forever forgiving, I still keep score.
I am unstable and wonderfully wise,
a ****** deviant in sweet disguise.
I am creative and self-destructive
naturally skilled and unproductive.
I am shy and I am outspoken
with a heart of stone, easily broken.
I am awkward and well refined,
lost, insightful and a little love-blind.
I am respected and I am addicted
shamed by burdens, self inflicted.
I am a perfectionist and I am a slob,
unbiased and shallow, an inept snob.
I am nocturnal, a creature of night,
blissfully ignorant, typically right.
I am cautious and I have no fear,
a loser and quitter, still I persevere.
I am brilliant and easily amused,
over-zealous and under-enthused.
I am impervious with wounds to heal,
an occasional liar just keepin' it real.
I am weird and lovely and mean-
I am what I am.......100 Aileen.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
Nan,
I wrote this poem for you to keep
As you lie peacefully asleep
To share the stories you once told
Sat in your chair growing peacefully old
I will always remember those days
When I sat up to the table studying the maze
Of thousands of puzzle pieces in my gaze
However I was never fazed
Because you were always there to guide the way.
I will always remember your trips out and about
Although never adventurous I felt,
McDonald's and M&s; without doubt,
Were you favourite places to walkabout
I will always remember your creative flare,
Your knitting needles and you cross-stitch squares,
how you could sit and chat, yet knit with care
Always seemed so unfair
But most of all, I wrote this poem to say thankyou
Not just from me but from all the family too
For the wisdom and knowledge you once shared
For showing you loved us and that you cared
I wrote this poem to say goodbye
As you watch us from up high
I remember all the fun times we had
As my friend and as my Nan
And I miss you more than words can say
I hope we can meet again someday
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
The world's gone mad but my mind is made up.
Time to let ya'll into the darkroom of my mind,
A place where I'm the referee of a poetic world cup.
This is where I am creative even though I'm blind
Don't get me wrong I am not leaving from town.
No more radio or TV saturated with all the sad news,
I have got enough breaking news of my very own...
Breaking to me each and every moment as it brews.
Come and meet the hard drive of my creative doom,
That contains my beautiful and liberated mind.
Welcome to my one bright side I call my darkroom,
It's a place that's so special, I reckon it's one of a kind.
You have to know that I always act blind but I see.
In my mind, I can walk stack naked and levitate.
My mind is where I remain totally black and free.
Come join me set my poetic dial and help me activate,
The code that will outshine any power on this earth.
My mind is where I live and where nobody has access,
Here I can run a poetic marathon without taking a breath,
Call it my playground and intellectual fortress.
My mind is deep, a place of absolute calm and refuge,
Somewhere I will always see as the final frontier.
It is dangerous and toxic like a nuclear centrifuge.
In there, I am all alert and vigilant like a soldier.
My mind is a darkroom where I give birth to new ideas.
It is a vessel and place in which I do magic with letters.
It is my holy land of thoughts, my own creative Judea,
Where each idea is sacred and light as bird feathers.
Welcome to the epicenter of my creative mind.
This is where I turn letters into spoken words
A front line of creativity where no one leaves behind.
Come and see where all words become useful swords.
My mind produces powerful words like some light beams...
Courageous and powerful words for extra motivation.
Spoken Words that will light up people's faded dreams.
Now you know that up in my mind are no limitation,
There exists an enormous capacity of time and space.
Welcome one, welcome all to the darkroom of my mind
Take a seat and be calm, be quiet this is my place
For this here is my personal creative post of command.
www.poemhunter.com/IvanBrookssr
#Vanguard-poetry23
#IvanBrookspoetry
twitter @ivanclappers
@Bassapoet
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
African woman
Mother of civilization.
Oh beautiful woman,
Thou are beyond description.
African woman
Queen of the people of Mamba.
Jambo to all those in heaven
Bless you too my dear mama.
African woman
Royal Nubian Queen.
The backbone of her man
You'll do anything to help him win.
Single Black woman
Made of broken pieces
You're the breadwinner,Superwoman.
You're the symbol of strength in all places.
African woman
Daughter of Eve's.
Thou are God's true specimen,
And the apple of his eyes.
Black woman
Daughter of Africa.
Blueprint of a **** woman,
Dark hue of coffee arabica.
African woman
Mother of humanity
Chieftess of ancient Nyngoman,
Mama Africa's bounty.
African woman
My Mandingo bride.
First woman of Africa's Eden
Center of God's black tribe.
Nigerian woman
My Yoruba Queen.
Envied by the women of Oman,
Cafe ou lair, cream of Africa's cream!
Warrior woman,
Queen of Wakanda.
Come and flip your wand,
Find the soul of Sarafina.
Curvy woman
In your womb lies Africa's future.
My Lormah woman
Oyobuays marvels at your structure.
Beautiful woman,
Perpetual envy of the silicon woman.
Pride of the Black man,
The essence of a real woman.
Indigo Woman
Lillies of the African plains.
Thou are Eve of the African Eden,
Best of the portraits that nature paints.
Voluptous woman,
Full, thick natural lips.
Real assert of the Black woman,
Nature gets aroused by your hips.
Ellen Sirleaf, today's woman,
Africa's first female president.
A Liberian woman,
Loved and revered wherever she went.
Smile ,Gambian woman,
You're daughter of Sarakunda.
Roots of the Black American woman,
Captives of the kanda Bolinga.
South African woman
Mariam Makeba
Sang for freedom and fought like a man
You were truly Soweto's finest Deva.
Dark ebony woman,
You are red, yellow and green.
Hanmatan wind stops at your command,
Born to slay and be seen.
African woman
Thou are the only reason
God put Adam in a coma.
Your perpetual beauty transcends time and Season.
African woman,
Under your cleavage, the Nile flows
And between your fingers, golden threads are woven,
You are the reason Beyonce glows.
Harriet Tubman, brave woman
Smuggled slaves underground.
She was a freed Black slave woman,
Who avowed to leave no soul behind.
Creative woman
Maya Angelou, gifted poetess.
Famous writer and a Black woman
Will be remembered for her poetic prowess.
Native African woman,
Africa's limestone and cement.
A mother, a wife, virtuous woman,
Lioness and the spine of the continent.
Liberian woman
Roots of my poetry, you gave me life
You are every woman.
Your edges are sharper than the Sumarais knife.
#IvanBrookspoetry©
13/8/2018
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 4:56 AM UTC
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
A sweet , young , pretty , subtle-charm
A girly, warm, bright sense of appeal
A cute, Fun, attractive, soft touch of feminity
A spark of warmth and tenderness with friends and family
An unconditional love, friendship and care.
An elegant pink
A royal, noble, selfless form of leadership
An enlightened, balanced state of maturity
A mixture of the feminine and masculine energies
An alluring, luxury of mystic fantasy
A beautiful, calm , calculated sense of wisdom
A color of heat, love, power and hot-passion
A vibrant, provoking, brave sense of will power
A seductive, romantic list of appetite
An attention grabbing, sharp rhythm of excitement
A color of signs
A calm, loyal, productive and conservative effect on humanity
A strong connection with masculinity
A rich, hopeful, desiring-lucky-go charm
A color of intuition and the sixth sense
Mostly heavenly and soothing to the mind and body
A friendly, stable , sincere, expertise of understanding
A cheerful, creative,bright-sunshine
A warm, happy, joyful, energetic summer
A spirit of optimism and success
Shades of orange
Angelic
A meek, peaceful note of simplicity
Pure, heavenly and gentle
An innocent, good act of precision
Positive
A powerful, bold, confident elegance
Wealth
A formal, classy sense of sophistication
Sexuality
Proudly black and beautiful
A color that absorbs
A strong, honest form of endurance
A stable, warm, comfortable, sense of maturity
A friendly note of earthly attitude
A bond with earth and its nature
A mediator between black and white
A neutral, reserved and modest aura
A solid, elegant form of maturity
A reliable, formal dignified class
A shiny, wealthy glitz of glamour
A modern sense of creativity
A gentle , graceful, kind touch of femininity
Sensitive
An innovative, creative, calm serenity
A spirit of togetherness and humanism
A patient, peaceful, joyful emotion
Independence
Different shades of Turquoise
A new, fresh, hopeful place of rest
Healing
Natural
Growth and development
Success
Vitality
A joyful, happy warming effect
Energetic
Sunshine
Arousal of cheerful feelings and freshness
Great mental stimulant
A classy, luxury glitz of glamour
A confident, generous, self-work
A victorious , royal, happy-to-go-look
An abundant, shiny, excess extrovert
Sophisticated
Written By; Esther Esuga
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:58 AM UTC
“When an injured athlete urge a comeback to field for love of game, his vulnerability toward previous muscle wound hinder his mental ability to go on with a full swing. Though, same rule implicate for people who hold bleeding pen to draw alphabetic emotions”
Yesterday I met one of those fragile birds. She carry fractured pen fingers under her beautiful skin, has curious eyes with strange shyness and a touched heart. The pursue of selflove somehow quelled her creative charm. I never expected to encounter someone so likeminded. She put away her pen to avoid emotions, identically similar reason made me quit this so-called ability which once lured bunch of close friends and many others who never knew the face behind these emotionally colored pages...
Wish I could feel her feathers and let her touch my scars, but her shivering Fragile Soul stopped me to become a...
‘Bad Boy She Craves For...’
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:35 PM UTC
jordan is a star athlete,
envied by all
on the opposing teams.
jordan is also creative,
and intelligent,
and an all-round amazing
human.
jordan is strong,
and powerful,
but also delicate
and emotional.
jordan wants you to know
that she doesn't have to
conform to gender stereotypes.
she knows her place in
this world -
she knows that her place is
wherever she wants it to be.
she is independent
and doesn't need your negativity :)
- v.m
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 9:30 AM UTC
Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not.
Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room.
Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life.
Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them.
Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place.
Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage.
Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws.
Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: **** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself."
It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
Beauty has no definite description because people view things differently,
Wear makeup because you feel like adding a touch of your creative skills to your face,not because its a mask of your true face,
Beauty may not be seen by many because its misunderstood
Beauty is different...
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
It's a wide open art,
from the start.
Rules are for schools.
Dont fret em,
forget em.
So
Relax with a syntax,
clown around,
with a pronoun.
Squeeze the ******
of a dangling participle.
Free flying like geese,
creative words release,
make it up if you please.
Example--the plural of mice is meese.
Flowery language isn't the exclusive domain of the professional writer, it's for everyone!
To continue then,
about the writers pen.
No write or wrong,
nothings too short or long.
Mangled,
bungled,
butchered,
bumbled, don't matter.
We don't need a librarian to admire what we have done.
Words aren't hard,
fling them unbarred.
It's not arithmetic,
or teaching a cat a trick.
Crunch them uniting,
mix them combining.
Fling them,
meld them,
Verb them,
sell them.
We don't need a New York Times best seller to enjoy the art of writing.
Uncrate it,
create it.
Use it,
and abuse it.
Don't bar us
from a thesaurus
Or a dictionary.
The spiel
is to write real
tell the tale
seal the deal.
WORD HATERS live in the town called Fictionary.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
I know they're not
accurate.
The fact I frequent
creative results
may be
more or less
coincidental.
After all
who am I
compared to
Jon Stewart
or a Greek
philosopher?
But maybe
I don't care.
Maybe I take them
just for fun.
And who can complain
when they are compared
to Charizard
and Winnie the Pooh?
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
From Alan Lomax to the commercial art and now the money machine.
At the turn of the century; when sound recording 1st became available to the masses, recording a song was an opportunity for folk to reach out; and tell the world something up front and personal.
It meant that people were able to put themselves on “The record” A way of leaving a permanent audio statement, an epitaph, an audio sound bite immortalising ~ life, mood, emotion captured and bottled for all eternity.
(A medium that conveyed messages from artists and storytellers of all kinds)
A recording was also a great addition to "The family album" something more tangible, a window to a real person, with a real life, a message and a point of view; a legacy, a blast from the past.
Few people expected sound prints to be re-designed, homogenised, formulated, copied, repackaged and that art and the message would be played over and over again by new artists in the form of "cover music" or that the style of the messages would become secularized, seperated into distinctive groups, or constrained by an elite clique or commercial genre.
Labelling and streamlining art & music mostly benefits the commercial art & music industry; and no longer the artists and creators.
I've no problem with good business, or the multi-billion pound industrys that have gained commercial success.
However the process of mass homogenisation, product synthesis, marketing, streamlining and then packaging fashion, sound and synthetic culture to sell a product, leaves very little room for creative people to just be creative.
A medium originally open to many for self expression, a historical record, an archive, a voice, a personal message;
Is now just a vehicle for advertising and perpetuating a genre of nonsense, so much so that there is now more white noise immortalised than messages.
To re-cap ~ I Think that creativity and expressionism; like story telling conveys moods and messages from the present and past!
Artists and musicians should have the opportunity to create and produce more information than they copy; thus creating a richer more colourful tapestry, whilst not devaluing the message of their predecessors!
Purcy Flaherty.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
Even at my age,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Languishing among towering clouds,
A lofty empire, lost kingdoms,
Perhaps a strange magical realm,
Thriving with dwarves and giants,
Maidens in towers awaiting rescue,
Where lone horse warriors wander,
Maybe observing us, far below.
Must be a poetic creative thing,
Or simply the child deep within,
Viewing through the eyes of the man,
Dreaming ancient days of long ago,
When the child yearned to be grown,
To know all there is to know,
Never appreciating escapism,
The chance to drift within time,
Ponder upon distant, aerial, worlds.
Or maybe I’m just a dreamer,
That and nothing more, hmm,
Telling myself, I am a poet,
A procrastinating creative spirit,
In love with the trappings of art,
The child asleep within wisdom,
Languishing among towering clouds,
I see mountainous lands in the sky,
Even at my age.
©Paul M Chafer 2015
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 5:08 AM UTC
Hello?
Are you there?
Did I write this?
Do I care?
My brain is gone
and I don’t know where
My creative spark
My unique flare
Hello?
Are you there?
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019 at 1:28 AM UTC
Procrastination?
What is that I've never heard of such a thing.
But maybe because I'm to busy procrastinating to hear it,
I am mike,
I am not a poet, a leader, a storyteller, or an academic,
I am a dreamer, a gamer, a man of many things,
I would rather let life pass me by and sit in my game,
Than to deal with the drama of reality.
It is not that I don't like reality,
It is that reality is too busy,
With school and work
Facebook and friends
Learning and imagining
Are they even one in the same
I love my games because it allows my mind to run wild
From building empires in Minecraft to taming creatures in Pokemon
Games are a way I can re envision my world
They allow kids to show their creative side something education removed long ago.
So I stand before you asking,
What is procrastination,
I'd rather play my game and imagine.
My life seems to pass by but in my one life span I have lived dozens of others.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
.
**•i've depleted my font,
my creative well•for each
day passed, with a story to tell
•staining white and barren land-
scapes•by sculpting my words into
myriad shapes•from factory fumes to
a wedding ring•an ominous tombstone
to a flash of lightning•an hourglass to track
elapsing time•the untold story behind a loved**
nursery rhyme• |
with this i conc- |
lude my 30 day run o
•it's been quite a stretch but
all in good fun•rest assured that
more will come when the time is
right•for now i'll turn off my
bedside lamp and bid
you all a goodnight•
.
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 11:05 AM UTC
she was the maker, he was her muse
a creative girl with everything to lose
she colored her canvas with her bleeding heart
she loved him and watched her world fall apart
she got her heart broken but kept a blank face
knowing that there are some mistakes you can't erase
she gave up her art, a lover betrayed
her pure white mind turned a darker shade.
May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 8:31 AM UTC
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Contests
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Remember that today, the most successful people are known to take advantage of the social media.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
Shamans, in an attempt to find a word that all cultures could understand, to represent, universally, the subject; married the languages by root.
Each attribute or thing that the beast is said to do, have or have power to do or over is found as a definition in a language of the individual roots.
Take Sanskrit for instance. "Dra," is "water and combine it with Sumerian, "Gun, Gon," and you get a "water-born," beast who "writhes, twists or wraps around," which is the Ouroboros Serpent as shown in ancient images.
The secret to all ancient myth or religion is in interpretation of language into foreign languages over time.
And, yes, it is very creative, appears complex due to time but is just humans trying to describe observable nature.
None of it is meant to be taken literally unless you literally live six thousand years ago and speak in an ancient tongue.
Addendum
* Keltic, "Con, Kon," makes the Dragon, "All-knowing." *
And we know from Plato that Greeks
stole their root words from the Celts.
Plato's own words in,
'The Cratylus.'
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:23 PM UTC
Yes, that is an abstraction of the landscape.
Yes, you have achieved some creative control.
Showcase your efforts! Open their minds!
Tear the ************* roof off!
Little God-man runnin' the cycles
To each his own script
His own prescription
Little God-man running the show
Master of Ceremonies
The human bridge
You must throw back each perch
and wait for the fattening;
You'll need that for the next act.....
Keep your strength up.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
The vulnerability of baring myself fully
clenches the belly
panics the heart
stands my hairs on end.
It is truly the most terrifying thing
to stand in ones authenticity.
And yet. And yet.
The courage it takes.
The great tender strength.
The spine tingling elation.
The heart swells, and magic.
The naked beauty borne, in feeling you have nothing to hide.
The spirit touched ardor of a bare approach to life.
The openings and the mystery.
The expressions: tripping, falling, incomplete, misguided.
The wonderful mistakes, elucidating lessons.
The perfect imperfections.
The easing of honesty.
The engendered humility.
The profundity.
The sense of being touched, touching, and in touch with life.
The unmasked revelations, of full spectral undulation.
The this. The that. The I can accept it all.
The dropping of shame.
The incredible liberation, in shedding that shame.
The finding forgiveness for self, for other.
The quiver of unknowing.
The sweet caress of potential.
The dread. The sorrows. The uncertainties.
All making room for, in their acknowledgement:
Room for what else is there.
Room for laughter, and joy, and luminescence.
Room for flirtation, dancing, spontaneity.
Breaking open.
Melting into Love.
Soaring on the wings of Truth.
The hush, of anxious worry.
The Goodness bestowed.
The empathy.
The compassion.
The connection.
The holy restoration of creative flow.
The fires of real passion.
And everything.
And everything.
And Beauty.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC