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Showing posts from June, 2019

THE THINGS by Ulli Stanway

The Things
 by Ulli Stanway
The things that make you not fit in. The things that make you the odd one out.  Hold magic and wisdom within.  You see, what they think is weird, too much and indifferent.  Really is a blazing woman, standing strong in her own power and beauty. Full-Hearted. Untamed. Unapologetic, It is She, who Roars.  And She is you. 
This poem first appeared in Ulli Stanway's debut poetry collection, SHE ROARS.  To obtain your own copy, click here. 
Ulli Stanway: I am a poetess/writer/day dreamer, life lover and author of SHE ROARS. I live in Melbourne Australia with my beautiful husband. I love nature and I am a confessing tree hugger. I invite you to  visit my website "Heart Rehab" here, which I hope will inspire other kindred souls to follow their own dreams and skip down a path they truly enjoy. I believe in becoming your authentic self, become who you are with all your quirkiness, weirdness and amazing talents. We don’t need to have countless copies of the same stor…

FROSTING by Anita Grace Brown


i have a lot of love to spread around
its thick like white buttercream frosting
sometimes people taste it and thank me
smacking their lips, an obvious appreciation for the sweetness
sometimes people stare at it
stare. at. it.
as if they don’t recognize what frosting is for
and sometimes they actually say
blech! I tell ya
these people are
but I don’t say a word (except in my head, I have a few choice ones)
I just keep churning out fresh

Anita Brownis a content mother of two teenagers and wife of over 20 years, both of which she is grateful for every day. She began writing poetry in the fall of 2012 after a mini-breakdown cracked open her heart and allowed this newly found gift to shine through. Many months later, she is realizing the truth in the saying that ‘breakdown equals spiritual awakening’ as she is pleasantly shocked at how much more peace she has in her spirit and how that is reflected in her life.  Anita loves yoga, dancing, traveling, cooking, walking her …

STONE AND BONE by Elizabeth Kipp

Stone and Bone (Let’s Heal)

I’m made of
bits of stone
and bone
wisps of hair
and a little despair
I’m fueled
with fire
I breathe
with the trees
I dream
and scheme
I make my start
and my art
from the heart
and after a fashion
express my passion
‘cause if I don’t
grab onto
the now
I miss out
on living
and giving
and thanksgiving
I live in
this sea
of emotion
soft hands
of devotion
in rays
of the rainbow
sun and moon
I’m not immune
to the trials
and trivialities
before you judge
just what
you’re seein’ in me
try walkin’ a mile
in my shoes
I’ll walk in yours
let’s open some doors
see each other
for real
no longer conceal
let’s just heal
stand tall
for once
and for all.

Elizabeth Kipp is a health facilitator specializing in stress and chronic pain management, addiction recovery, meditation, and yoga. She is a best-selling author, certified Kundalini Yoga Teacher (RYT/IKYTA/Yoga Alliance), Ancestral Clearing Practitioner, Bilateral EFT/Tapping Practitioner focused o…

CHOOSING LOVE by Julia W. Prentice

Choosing Love
You choose, sometimes to lose
In the game of love
Seldom are there winners
So the sprint begins
Chaste kisses raining
On eager, trembling lips
To soft caresses
Or clasping hands
Walking together everywhere
Passionate loving,
Or heated climax
And thrill of victory
Soon gives way
To defeat at each turn
Words out of cadence
Stumbling club-footed
Tongue always in the way
Wanting to express
What cannot be?
So the race becomes a dance
Dashing becomes spinning
Whirling and catching
As we fall into each other’s arms
Bending gracefully
Then awkwardly we pause
Panting, sweating, waiting
Lose the beat, music dies
A slow death march ensues
And like the ballerina
Twirling in the music box
We start the dance again
Spinning, then winding down
Knowing full well
That it could be
The slow-dance or the fugue,
The last we lovers can endure
Before we separate forever
The race ended, no victory crown
Just regret, endless regret

ALLOW by Sarah Carlson

 Some clouds are stormy, some benign, some hard to read. And yet the sun has the potential to illuminate the edges of them all, given the right conditions. Just as our nearest star  facilitates the splendor of silver linings, so can we humans permit our  inner brilliance to radiate  from behind whatever barricades may be in place. We all want to, though the desire may be somewhat sequestered. No matter what fronts have blown through, our own exquisite uniqueness is there nestled within, ours to share when  we feel secure and right. And that we should - both feel safe and allow. The sun doesn’t hesitate. Why should we?

Sarah Carlsonhas many pieces to her whole, as most of us do. Those pieces include: mother, teacher, daughter, friend, widow, sister, skier, bicyclist, hiker, coach, drummer, and poet. Sarah lives in the western foothills of Maine where opportunities to make connections amid the splendor of the rivers, lakes and mountains are plentiful. She began writing and combining her poetry with photograph…


Having emerged into the spring and summer seasons from a winter of challenges and changes... ... I am feeling awash with gratitude for the constant love, companionship and motivation that Mother Goddess so graciously gives. Even the days when nothing seems worth striving for, she gently reminds me I have so much to be grateful for, have so many blessings, and a heart full of the knowing she will always lead me to my rightful place however winding the road may be.
Gratitude for Goddess
Rhea Ruth Aitken

Gratitude seeps ever from my soul

Wells and springs forth from within me

Erupts in tears, smiles and ecstatic screams

With a pounding heart and a soft touch

With the falling or budding of a leaf

And the crunch or melt of the snow

Seasons of sun beating on my face

And the wind whispering

Things I need to know.

There are not enough words

Not enough books, or poets

Or quotes from lyricists’ tongues

Or sighs from my soul to capture

My love of the Goddess

And my gratitude for her glorious gifts.

The way she tou…


Women, Your sickness is of a different kind!
“A woman who is starved for her real soul-life may look “cleaned up and combed” on the outside, but on the inside she is filled with dozens of pleading hands and mouths”.  ~Clarissa Este Pinkola~
To women who write to me , whispering that “I am sick”
YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that  MOCKS your CURIOSITY calling it SPOOKY YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that RIDICULES your INTUITIVENESS calling it MENTAL YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that INVESTS in SHUNNING YOU from your TRUTH YOU are NOT to be BLAMED for YOU are BORN in a WORLD that NORMALIZES VIOLENCE f…

PLIANT by Victoria Lantz


Push me up against a wall and watch me flower. I thrive in tight spaces, under rocks, and behind shadows. If you look closely, you’ll see I’m deliberately leaning into the confinement, allowing the pressure to mold me. I’m pliant enough to enjoy it.
When times get tough and I feel myself wanting to run, a small space deep within me gets excited. Whether it is a difficult situation, a challenging relationship, or simply an uncomfortable chair, some part of me recognizes a growth opportunity when I see it. After years of running from discomfort, today I welcome those feelings, knowing that I have an opportunity to grow. I may be called to change myself in order to accept the circumstance as it is or take action to change it. Either way, it’s an invitation to lean into the pressure and allow myself to be molded.
Loving Source, keep me soft and flexible for your sculpting.
(This poem originally appeared in Victoria's newly released bookEpiphanies & Stories: Meditations for Myst…

THIS LOVE by Laura Hornby Kutney

I often find my poetry inspired by unforgettable art, literature or music that captures my heart. 

Recently, while listening to Ludwig van Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9, I became curious about the history and story behind its creation.
“Ode to Joy”, a poem by Friedrich Schiller (with additions by Beethoven), sung during the final movement, made this the first choral symphony by any major composer. It is also widely regarded by many, to be Beethoven’s finest work.
Sadly, by 1824, Beethoven was reported to be completely deaf and off by several measures while he enthusiastically conducted this final symphony at its premiere in Vienna.
My heart broke when I read that the audience, gave multiple standing ovations, while waving hats and handkerchiefs. Although they knew he couldn’t hear their applause, they made sure he would know and feel their adoration and appreciation.
To me, classical music feels like a poetry of sound. It even comes with its own dictionary of rich, beautifully detailed and de…