Poetry

 All poems are copyrighted and can not be reproduced without the authors permiss

 

My Mother 

My mother has so many voices

Some are soothing

Some are loud and scary

Some are childlike

Some are old and quivering

 

Sometimes she laughs

Sometimes she cries

Sometimes she just wants to hide

 

Sometimes she is Mary

Sometimes she is Florence

Sometimes she is Pat

 

Sometimes she is like all of us

Sometimes she is like none of us

Sometimes she switches from one personality to the next, so

Sometimes I am wondering who I’ll meet next

 

The Unusual Painter

Unusual strokes run across my canvas

Long ones, short ones, thick and thin

Bright color or dark sinister ones

I shake with the rhythms of my own inner life

For I am the painter who shakes, laughs, and paints some more

 

 

Contemplation

I sit here before you too afraid to let you in.

I didn’t want to have to say goodbye to one more person

 

or burden you with too much information.

I am  drowning in uncontrollable medical problems

and too much grief.

I don’t want your sensitive soul to feel my pain

and for us to be in a dance of pity instead of growth.

Pity just stops us from the important work

of healing and growing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 9 to 5 Jobs

I feel the gentle wave of nauseam

whenever I think about one of those 9-5 jobs.

You know the kind.

The ones where you can’t be yourself,

so you are just a warm body filling some number game,

for the grants, in the non-profit place, where you hope to make a

difference.

             You are left with unfulfilled dreams, desires and

sadness when the politics become more important than the

 people being served. You are left wanting much more than

emptiness.

You want to be wanted in a world where people are too

busy working for material things, which leaves you unfulfilled

and in a world of anxiety as you try to

catch up.

You keep going in vicious circles only to end up where

 you began with emptiness and loneness all around

you.

Come get out of the various cycle and join a  new

game of painting, writing, and creativity coaching where you

can build a more satisfied life. You can find your

people here!

 

My Home

My home is not in a box, which

needs to be paid for over many years.

It is in the clouds and the blue sky.

It is in the ocean when I float freely on my back

and see the stars in the darkness of the night.

It is in the wind in my hair and the

touch of his gentle caress.

It is in heaven when the God of my

heart gently holds me.

 

 

 

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Safe Again

I try to walk straight but I am

 

forever circling.

I jerk and suddenly I am down

on my knees.

I look up and see the beauty of God and know

I am safe again.