Saturday, December 13, 2014

December 13, 2014 The Sunday Whirl / Misunderstand

MISUNDERSTAND

when endeavoring to communicate                              to find the right words

the story seems to spin                   out of my control

it is as if the words have hitched a ride in a                                   spacecraft

and are traveling the cosmos         visiting other planets

without concern for their worldly meanings

angels tread lightly                               to avoid the lunatic words                          without meanings

my words can get into such a tangle                              when they disregard what i am trying to say

finding the right words                       to convey the meaning                 will forever be a difficult task          

words can be slippery                        when it comes to meanings

                      spread misunderstanding

December 13, 2014                                            

                                   




Saturday, December 6, 2014

December 6, 2014 The Sunday Whirl/Collecting Sea Shells

COLLECTING SEA SHELLS


the child in the cave             so tender                    alone in the haze

she traipsed about as if deranged              in those high heel shoes of her Mother’s

she would fling her cape around her                     as if for protection
                                                                                                from the cold

she sustained she posture for just so long             before she exchanged it for
                                                                        something more real

she dropped the chains                   that held her there

no longer the little girl                                  she was

she emerged                                      as the full grown woman
                                                                        that she had become

still there were times                                                she could become enflamed

the wounds still raw             seething                                             under the repairs

amazing how one carries                 it all                 never forgets

like the marks on the stones                                    burned in a fire so long ago

a history written                               never erased             shoved forward
thrown on the shore


December 5, 2014   







Not Just A Cup

  Not Just a Cup       Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me   Although I often find  Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...