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Bekah Halle Dec 2020
That, which is before me, I take hold.
Stepping forth with the keys,
once wearily, but now growing bold. 
Down, black dog, down.
Joy: light in thin cracks extol.
My heart growing in strength
stepping out bold,
it’s the only way to learn, heal and grow peacefully old.
Down black dog, take off your crown.
Bekah Halle Dec 2023
Was my stroke a cruel, twisted **** up?
Or one of divine luck?
Has it not taught me compassion?
Anger? Acceptance, how to ration criticism?
And laugh when I muck up?
Now I breathe gratitude,
My world has opened up
to new experiences, people, circumstances,
even living in new towns, cities and states.
Mastering rehab, new knowledge and careers.
Working through old fears, sure, I've got new ones,
But who hasn't?
Connected and trusting this journey.
Now that's the silver lining!
In 2012 I had brain surgery to remove an aneurysm and AVM and had a stroke during the procedure. After 10 hours of surgery, they put me in a coma to let my brain heal but I did not wake up until 40 days later.
jǫrð Dec 2023
Death found me in 6
He knocked at my door
And when I opened it
He knew my agony
Inherently
And kissed me once
Between the eyes before
Moving on to number 5
I heard my neighbor
Let out a desperate
Wail and knew he had
Claimed another instead
The History: I have been extremely ill today. I've not slept a wink. My head is pounding and I am feeling so lost and confused. My neighbor in 5 let out a scream that I have projected before. The ambulance came shortly after and what looked like a small body was eventually removed.
Marília Galvão Nov 2023
Light thrives in the dark
by finding its way through the brenches
of a dense forest

Light thrives in the dark
by passing through the windows
of a wintered house

Light only strikes you
when you finally get to know
projected on the path you've always walked
your long buried shadow
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2023
~ one more for patty m. ~

slept late after dancing with my devils, from,
from the wee, until a pealing pearl from the Earl of Dawn,
recovering from an intrusion~invasion~brain~regurgitation,
and it’s nearly 9am, sipping my first cuppa Hawaiian,
& woke to a repost of a ten year old wondering plea(1)

makes me think “This old thing,” poem, like a fav
frock/suit that still drapes perfectly, and yet draws the
***** admiration and drippy drawling yummy compliments,
gracefully, gratefully demurred with them three words,
& it’s 8:39am, Bruce pitching in with “Born in the USA”

recipe for a new thank u Gawd poem to make room for
a fast~break diet for an old man with a rebuilt ticker, this
very emission~transmission of a verbal politesse writ going
some where, cooked on a medium slow burner fueling dressed up seeds of heartfelt appreciation made of ancient oat grasses

birthing a poem~child of thanks to the Lawd for one more day,
opportunity, the five sense’s delivery gratitude and gratifications, and the desire to intertwine the sights, music, a crisp blue November Sky, the need to bleed brew these words into a fulfilling,
second moment mug, for the pearls and Earls

of poetic humans


10:01am
Thu Nov 2 2023
(1) Do You Know Why Men Cry in the Bathroom?
grace is the morning,
greet it with gratitude;
and so do yourself too,
for keeping on,
for keeping on.
Immense responsibility is ****** into life when parenthood arrives.

Unconditional love thrives,
I’ll love you no matter what told
an infinite number of times.

No blueprint available brings worry and stress,
wanting your child to flourish and grow,
not wanting to depress their ability to progress.

Always wanting to express support and care since an embryo.

The rollercoaster of life inevitably takes control and never lets go.

Child, teen, and then adult makes the parent feel time to let go and become the background chaperone.

I’ll love you no matter what.
I’ll love you no matter what.

A phrase that will never age.

A child grows but the love they felt and feel is their most preciously held ideal.

- For my Mother -
Kitt Sep 2023
it's the most valuable resource, they say:
there's a time to be born and a time to die.
what you do in that in-between space
will your entire existence define.
so spend it wisely, lest you desist
with nothing of value left to exist.

so when you make time to read the rhymes,
when you leave notes between the lines
that means more than words softly spoken--
more than any tangible token--
to know that I am worth precious time.
For GR, who always makes time.
Rainswood Sep 2023
Walking alone
On the First cool morning
of the season,
It’s bright and clear
And I notice, for the first time
In a long time
That I can feel the Sun on my face.
Somehow I’d forgotten
My love
for these beautiful mountains so blue
Behind The hill that’s been blocking my view.
A dump site for resentment
and sadness.
Now that I’m
Observing the world again
instead of ruminating
This is my future,
My home.
My view.
irinia Aug 2023
one
for a moment, so stubborn as a breath
so fragile as the tremble of a leaf
so sudden as the harmony of tears
I feel this space in which je suis toi
feelings and words are one with
the gratitude principle for
not to harm the riverbeds of time
I wrap myself in poems, between the earth and the sky
I need to pay my respects to the wisdom of the air
where there is nothing more to say,
in that space of miracle
time is passing through me like the sadness
of a beautiful woman
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