Length, width, depth,
the three dimensions.
Time
the fourth.
But there are more dimensions,
dimensions of the soul.
Be happy my journal is missing. I have more.
(begin creepy music now…)
Lonely
Longing, waiting, wondering when,
My heart can shine once again.
An occasional joy swells inside,
Left unshared, in vain it dies.
All is calm and quiet again,
Longing, waiting, wondering when.
–from my “depressed” days
¾È ³ç, ÁÖ µ¿ ÀÏ
Full Moon
By: Cow God
Cunning and sly it creeps in the dark,
With fangs of terror and menacing bark.
Stealthiness, agility, and anarchy reign
in his kingdom of destruction and pain.
A shimmering creature lurks nearby.
Foot steps draw nearer-
My breath becomes deeper!
In these shadows I wait to die.
I hear a faint cry of fright,
Maybe someone else is dying tonight!
This pool of blood I see,
could it be coming from me?
Death is here, I have been bitten-
Jugular slashed and heart eaten!
(I like this poem- it’s about werewolves!)
“I’m not dumb. I just have a command of thoroughly useless information.”
– Calvin and Hobbes
I have fallen twenty stories
in love with you.
A jumper from a skyscraper,
A cliff diver into the sea,
Having butterflies like I do
Knowing loving true,
Is loving you.
I have paced along this path again
And found you in my heart.
I have read your thoughts and smiled again
Wishing that times were wild, again,
And dreamed another dream, again,
In our far away time,
When kisses were sublime.
I have passed a little word
The response is what I fear.
A word, to love and hold you tight
And making up after a fight
And then our passions all alight
Embraces forever
Us parting? Never.
Twenty stories and lovers left
A wish to see once more
Will my heartache end at last?
Is my lover now in the past?
I have realized he’s gone
His kisses and his song
Still make my heart long.
S.C. (Written just now.)
in early evening
the sky is the same colour
as copper sulphate
You will find my home easily,
beyond the silent screams of the city streets.
Simply look to the mountain
and the brilliant greenof the pine.
Putting one foot before the other, follow the path of the dancing rivers and the flight of the red tailed hawk.
Come slowly and quietly,
leaving thoughts of time behind.
Do not rush and worry
as you trek the dusty roads ahead.
Come with eyes open and celebrate the gifts of life that surround you.
Come and sit on my porch, open your senses.
Heal your battered heart with the crisp, clean breezes.
Cleanse your body in the rich brown earth.
Soothe your burning eyes as you gaze into the distant forrest; forgotten by man’s progress and teeming with life.
Rest you mind and warm your soul,
as you lay, unguarded, under inky black heavens. Studded layer upon layer with the jewels of Gods’ eyes.
Feed your spirit with the taste and scent of rose petals, wild berries and herbs.
Slake your thirst in sparkling, cool water.
Buried in the earth and untouched by the hand of man.
I do not live in a grand mansion
filled with the elegant evidence of my success.
My roof is a small one, covering clutter filled corners and spaces for simple comforts.
There is only room here, within these walls,
for laughter and loving and the magical memories found in the footsteps of my children.
These are the riches I treasure.
The wealth in my life is found on my doorstep.
Freely given by God the Father and The Earth Mother.
My willingness to receive it and to share peacefully with all creatures. In harmony with the Song of the Earth.
This is the elegant evidence of my success.
As someone else mentioned, I too, have a journal full.
This was written for my youngest following several tragedies.
I see my boy hurt,
in a place I can’t touch.
So, I clutch him too tightly;
I can’t touch him enough.
This boys eyes have gone silent;
when once, they had laughed.
So, I talk far too much now;
with all the questions I ask.
So much has happened,
for a boy of few years.
Can I bring enough joy
to easy so many tears?
“Give it time. Give him space.”
Friends warn me, “Don’t smother.”
How can I let go"
It hurts. I’m his mother.
I slowly step back.
My body trembles with fear.
Much like his first step.
Has it been thirteen years?
He’s off for the day;
with friends, gone from my sight.
Will he come back the same?
Will his choices be right?
I sit with my pain
and pray he never gives up.
He’s just a young boy.
Does he feel loved enough?
Plan lessons, do dishes.
Life keeps goin’ on.
I try to stay busy.
My heart aches for my son.
There’s a hand on my shoulder;
Arms holding me tight.
“No big deal, Mom. Nothin’s wrong.
Just stopped by to say hi.”
He checks in with hugs;
says “I love you”, alot.
And now he asks me,
“Do you have time to talk?”
My heart swells with love.
We hold on to each other.
We share pain, we share joy.
I’m his friend and his mother.
He tells me his thoughts
and decisions he’s made.
I know that he’ll make it;
though he won’t be the same.
Life’s taken his childhood;
but his spirit will stand.
I’m filled with such pride;
in my boy, who’s a man.
Here’s one he wrote me, about a year after he struck out on his own.
A thought crossed my mind today.
A thought, left in disarray.
I noticed that this thought was new.
But it was a thought once thought by you.
This plant, that in my garden grew.
Was a seed that was planted by you.
I pondered this thought a little more.
And noticed this thought had opened a door.
A thought had crossed my mind today.
A thought that you had passed my way.
Don’t be angry, don’t you mope,
Obtain enlightenment with The Straight Dope!
It’s the best column that’s afloat,
Entrap ignorance behind a moat!