Thursday, March 22, 2012

I wish I could...

pic credit - luigi diamanti;
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The weakness I wish I could see
would be you, leaning into me
happy or hurting as I feel
while I could find a moments comfort
in understanding warmer than an embrace.

The weakness I wish I could see
would be you searching for me
when nature's own glamor silences words
while I could share that wonder
and feel as one with nature and you.

The strength I want to give
would be living, but not just to live
to hold on to bright hope even when despair
beats down our door, and you, could see me,
and think that losing for us is not meant to be.

The strength I want to give
would be the certainty that the world could be
your playground, and every theory worth a try
but home would be with me, wherever you go
and I would be home whenever you want me to be.

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Wednesday, March 21, 2012

The silence speaks volumes

pic credit - dan,
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The silence speaks volumes
more than volumes of words
filled with wonderment and definitions
not our own.

Our only affirmed means of communication
that the others recognize,
so the others can recognize
that we're linked, you and I, by that intangible something.

The silence speaks volumes
about the space between us
how little it matters
how much it matters
and that the pressure of space is too much to bear.

Yet words hold the key for them and us
with a final piece of paper/ring/gift of recognition
that confirms to us and them what we are
and the definitions and judgements pile on.

The silence speaks volumes
about what you see beyond me
and I you, to the point of fusion,
oneness that exists beyond this world.

And yet, words shield us from their wrath
and strangely, our oneness too,
the world demanding to be let in,
silence broken as surely as a heart.

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Sunday, March 18, 2012

Away from you

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pic credit - Exsodus,
Hope like sunbeams
waltzing through a gray canopy
Insistent, persistent, true, it seems
a reminder that you're lost to me.

Certainty perfused, doubt dispelled
Yet I remember flashes of what will never be
Golden happiness on gray ocean held
for seconds before the 'crest of now' sets it free.

Free from yearning memories
Feelings from another time
Life devoid of you, yet abundant clarity
Another spirit, and me, now entwined.

pic credit -

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Mini-Him's potent poem

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Mini-Him is an out and out boy. Not given to "softer" pursuits. Rough and tumble, legos and strange creatures from every new Cartoon Network sponsored show make his days more than exciting. And while he has been an only child for nine long years of his little life, I didn't believe he was too lonely. Atleast, not lonely enough to warrant the shocker of a poem he wrote for Haiku practice in his elementary school. It...completely...disturbed me. Yet when I asked him if he actually felt any of what he wrote, he denied it.

"I have you, and my legos, and my Panama now. But still, I have some nice acquaintances here. Why would I be lonely?" he asked, a Ninjago (new fangled legos) Lord Garmadon attacking hapless foot soldiers in some mock battle arranged on our coffee table.

"Did some parts of the poem somewhere?" I asked.

"Nope." he replied, followed by an "aaarrrrghhhh....Lord Garmadon didn't was a TRAP!!"

Maybe he had. Maybe he didn't realize he'd picked up something. Or maybe he just had a bloody good imagination. Or maybe he really felt those things...and if this last is true, then I've been seriously remiss as a parent.

The grammar and sentence construction are about what one would expect for the age group.

But the parallels....oh my!

I don't know how others see it...

Here goes...
pic credit - Stuart Miles;

Loneliness is like a man drifting in the uncharted seas

Loneliness sounds like the howls of those who have nothing

Loneliness tastes like bitter salt who none would eat

Loneliness sounds like the sorrow of those who aren't cared for

Loneliness looks like a man sitting on an empty corner

Loneliness feels like no matter where you are you are always chased away.

I don't believe Mini-Him was ever given a time out in a corner to warrant such a statement. Time outs never worked with him anyway. I can only think back to his bullied days. Sure I've said that I was busy and that I would "play legos" later.

It's not a perfect poem. But the imagery is very sad, for me at least. It is sad that he associates images in this way.

pic link -