mind

mind your own business
and mind the presence of others
be a part of their day
and guide them if they go astray

take care of the youngsters
and steer them to the straight old paths
or let them walk on a new one
but warn them if they risk to get bitten

talk to your friends
and talk to your neighbors
be aware that you are not really alone
but part of the whole

if the hand hurts, the arm suffers
if the foot it strong, the leg follows
we all are at times parts of one mechanism
we want rolling wholesome

when lonely times come think
about good deeds others have done onto us,
and how we touched -carefully,
the life of others - near us and strangers

quote of the day

and in the silent, sometimes hardly moving times
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
. . .
. . . I want to unfold.
I don't want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

gray

love old people who have good memories of the past
even if it simply because they tender to you filtered events
they preserved in their memory's sieve
as the few golden sand grains of their times

love their gray hairs for it means wisdom earned hardly
under many sunshined and an equal number of rainy days;
loved their tired legs for they have walked up and down many paths
and many a days they held their children lovingly by their hands

without their images they bring to us from the past
how would we now know where today stands;
how would we trust that tomorrow will come for most of us
no matter what were the events we've seen on the news

no matter how many mistakes, no matter how many victories
there are things that can tip the balance
and we have to accept them and start walking right
towards the future they have promised to us, most of us

so better hold hands, better make friends
and kiss the old man sweetly and ask for their stories
get better for the sake of tomorrow
when you will be the gray haired ones.

quote of the day

"when hatred with its package comes
you forbid delivery!"
L Cohen

orange

image from altese.blogspot.com, courtesy of chickpea

I am gonna wear a happy color today
it may be orange
I am gonna sing
a cheerful song as if it always were spring

I am gonna climb like a monkey
on the highest tree
I am gonna be
as happy as an orange dressed woman can be

I am gonna give thanks for all presents
life gave me
for the chance I can take
and dance till I get out of my limited self
(and dance till I am free of my limited self)

growing up

how comes the older I get
the smaller I feel?
as fast and as strong as I am
I cannot get faster than light?

and what would happen
if however I could
run as fast as light does
can you please explain?

the more I think the less I seem to know
but my brain does grow
in every possible way
if I train it well everyday

perhaps it is since I've learned
that the world is so big
we don't know its limit
that I want to be able to push it.

One thing or two
I still want from you
and eternal supply of hugs
and kiss when you tuck me in bed

blogs

blogs are like houses
with open windows;
some let you look out
and open your eyes to the world;
and some have you whirled
into a self centered hangout

somebody asked

image from ToniGCappel.com
somebody asked
how can so much love
live in such a little room
clean and airy as it is?

and he moved in
a bigger house, accompanied
by the aroma of red flowers
from the little house's windows

stormy questions to Tilly Ipswitch

how does it feel?
to storm over the seas
tormenting the waves
who sing to the moon

how does it feel riding a broom
with a cat behind your back
shrieking a tune
at Halloween?

how would it feel pumpkin
to share your light in the night
sweeten your mind
cause it's all right

ascent

(this one to CTB and AAI)

this mountain I climbed
with no horizon in sight
under a ceiling of clouds
just because you held my hand

one step after another
on a path none that I know
ever tried - being afraid it was
to steep to enjoy - so why bother

little leaps we took
on white rocks
humid with sweat
while we were burning with thirst

I was getting ready
to complain about the pain
building in my body
as it was growing stronger

when we started to see flowers
confronting the wind
with a giggle; tiny shrubs
creeping close and stable to the ground

little creatures we did see
living their live joyfully
under a sky with brave vultures
waiting for pray

if this is the way they live;
we might as well
allow ourselves all the elation
brought by thin air

once we get above the clouds
we'll calmly breath and take in
the view of the sky, and the valley,
and wondrous things the trip has taught us

bitter sea

and why should I
love you bitter sea
when all you give back
in return for the memory
I slowly build in the sand
at your feet is a quick wash
with the wave of your hand;

perhaps you stay
beautiful always
cause you have no memory
no passion, but just enough salt
to keep the rest of us thirsty
and forgive you for the days
when you are angry and mad

heroic waltz

to my many boo booed heroes
a boo boo, a bruise and a scratch
on my leg, on my hand
on my head which looks like
and egg ready to hatch

a booo boo, a bruise and a scratch
have found their way on my tummy,
the only place I though safe
from their horrible army

the hands ..it must be the trees
I was climbing with my friend Elise
the legs ... the balls I was trying to get
from under the car of our vet

but the tummy?
mine was dedicated to things that are yummy
and now it displays
the wounds from mysterious falls

there is no place on my body
without a sign to show
what a brave child I am
there's no soap to erase them

no matter how hard I try
the heroic marks are here to stay
with me for the week so I better learn how to dance
with a boo boo, a bruise and a scratch

hey mom I have found
(and I am happy to say)
there a clean spot on my back
now can I go out and play?

last night's storm

the unnamed storm has swept
the neighborhood
last night
and many trees have shed
their leaves
outright.

the kids came out this morning
gay and bright
they run
to catch the school bus
in their colored jackets
fast;

and as their shoes are stomping
in the puddles
and they splash,
their memories of the scare last night
will be dissolved in a brief discussion
by the traffic light

dance

the night is young
and they just learn to dance
as a pair to keep their balance
they are full of excitement
and sometimes fear failure
which makes them take careful steps
on a dance floor made of thin ice;

slowly their steps get smoother,
they seem to glide longer
their heart beats by no means softer
they are as beautiful
as intersecting comets on the night sky
till it dawns on them the dance is over
and they seal the magic with a bow to each other

dog tale

My dog is a mixed breed
a combination
between a poodle and a pig;
he has a fascination
with puddles
and ditches, cables and switches
and all little toys
he can fit in his mouth;
he's chewing on shoes
and he's chewing on books
he likes socks whether paired
or mismatched
and then to be forgiven
for all this sinful chewing
he'd steal a toothbrush
and use it intensely
to erase any marks
from his sparkling white teeth,
the sweet son of a pig!

image matters -draft

I am gonna pay you
and you should make me look good
cause I have learned
how image matters these days
to most folks
and you better work well
while your friend here
will build a foundation
to support a monument
to my perfect ego
of tomorrow.
do not worry about yourself
good man
I have though about you too
I will write your name
on the monument
you build for all of us,
for which I had the vision
and the means to bring it to life
and keep it
dancing
on the line of flotation
(will call it today
as a promise for tomorow).

SM post

I read a forum on selective mutism and found these interesting poems that let us glimpse inside a rich but different world. How can we reach inside and touch with warmth and give confidence?

(by rainbow)


1.
If i could talk
I would
If i wanted to
I should.

But i cant.

It's just not that
Simple.
Its not that
Easy.

I'd shout and shout
But no words would come out.

Why cant they see?
What is wrong with me?

2.
My world just aint the same
As those who can say a name.
I'm different
But nobody knows
Just how hard it is...

I want to speak like you
But you just aint got a clue.

The words are stuck.
There's no escape.
I scream, I scream
But
No sound i make.
It's true...
...I want to be like you.

3.
I'm happy being me
I cant talk
But i can see
What its like
For those like me.

Give us time
Dont shout
Just wait to see
What we're all about.

4.
Dont shout
Because we cant talk.
You wouldnt push those
Who cannot walk.

Just because you cannot see
What exactly is wrong with me.

Give me time
Give me a chance
Maybe one day
I will sing and dance...

love (again?)

love is at times
a river flowing;
sometimes
an ocean roaring;

a mountain to climb
an unavoidable valley;
a trip to make
a rest you need

on the trail you take
wherever you are headed
make sure that you walk
in harmony

among yourselves,
and the greater forest
make patience
build trust

give
forgive
dream
with the chose one

love is what you make of it
and you better take care
cause you are yourselves
part of it

spice world (working on it)

we live in a flavorful world
a mysterious world of spices
small but powerful,
tiny but able to leave memories
on a beach of bland foods
for our own tastebuds
and those of unexpected visitors
at the dinner table

I am trying to harness my dog
with the power of spices;
he just got his share
of black pepper on objects
he is not supposed to chew.
when have you though last
of the repressive powers of
spices? well trainers do :)

crooked haiku

the boss is always right
(or he just might)
I need some gin and tonic in the night
so I can write! write! write!