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Showing posts from September, 2016


This rarely happens to me but last week, it did... I was walking down the street and I saw this woman... like really saw her. I just wanted to go up to her and tell her that I see her, try to put into words everything I felt for her in that moment. It was a kind of connection, a soul recognition. I saw the woman, the mother, the daughter, the lover, the employee, the home owner, the dreamer, the silent sufferer but I also saw the soul. The angel. The goddess. It was all there all at once and it was beautiful. If I could see her again, this is what I would’ve said to her: The Eternal Beauty of You by Dolly Mahanti Look at you. Wow. Just look at you.   You’ve made sadness an artist and gave your face away as a canvas and he has done a masterpiece with it.   The thing is you.. you’ve forgotten who you are and now you believe you are his work of art. But sweetheart, I am here to tell you that you are not. Take your pieces back. Reclaim yourself.

LESS IS MORE by Paula Doran

I was sad today, feeling a little sorry for myself...  I didn't have the energy to make a list of my must do's. Must lose weight, must read those books I bought, must go shopping, must make a list, must get on with the course I started, grrrr, grrrr, grrrr.   The dialogue I had going on at myself was really unkind, I wrote it down and saw how unkind I was being and rewrote another more compassionate dialogue. I felt hurt, I was really hurting myself, berating myself. I wanted something different, something kinder, more peaceful, more motivating.  So I began and I wrote: Dear Universe, I ask of you to help me to become more, by being less.... I wrote this poem as it helped me to see clearly what really does make sense, if that makes sense? Less is More by Paula Doran I hurt, I hurt in so many ways, I consume, I crave, I worry, I rage, I regret, I can't sleep, It cycles on and on, Books, food, diets, TV, Facebook, products, achievement

A RETURN by Kara D. Spain

My poem, “A Return” is about recent events  in my life, where I engaged in too much  h arsh  debate with others, and began to take it to heart... My intentions, though noble, caused me to lose sight of my life’s  purpose. Returning to my own inner voice and meditating on my poetry, reminded me of where I need to be. I need not listen to other voices in the world; I simply need to stay on the path that has been given to me and keep my ear pressed to the voice inside. A Return by  Kara D. Spain In the  stilln ess, I listened, leaned in with my invisible ear, pressed to your bosom of love; forgive me, I'd forgotten the sound of your voice. I'd been listening to other ones, their clanging noise, deafening me to your words. Yours is a small whisper- one of lingering intuition, and passion for truth and balance. I return to your secure arms, though you're not the same- new arms, of strength and verdure, guiding me, like moon’s illumin


We have all certain people in our lives that at first seem to challenge us... But what they are doing actually is helping us dig deep inside of our minds and hearts, bringing awareness to our inner world, which is in turn reflected outside through our behavior and actions.These are what we can call our greatest life teachers. They teach us where to look inside, how to be exposed and how not to hide between false faces and masks.  These valuable teachers could appear in our lives as a lover, a friend, a parent, a sibling and so on. They could be anyone! What's more important is to accept what they bring upon our paths so we can grow and mature. This poem is dedicated to a male friend of mine with whom I have a very beautiful relationship: one that has no label. You Unbutton Me  by Ilda Dashi I could have never imagined, that someone like you, would one day read me naked between my unwritten lines, and then take me to those places inside me, where i’m the most


Letting the past interfere with the present is never a good thing...   Seven years ago my life changed, when after 18 years with the same company in a position that I loved, the economy took a downturn and I was one of 250 that were laid-off.   It hurt, physically hurt. I felt like my “family” had abandoned me. It brought me to one of the lowest points in my life.  Even though this was the catalyst that spawned my poetic journey, and I would eventually find another job in a position where I feel useful and appreciated, it seems the resentment from that day adhered and took on a life of its own.  During the past few days I have been reflecting on the events of the past year— how I almost lost the one person in my life that means the world to me. I have come to realize that life is too short to be carrying such anger. It does no one any good, especially me. I have decided enough is enough.   And so I surrender all of those “what-ifs” and “might-have-beens”

EVEN WHALES MOAN by Carolyn Riker

(Editors note:   In honor of  National Suicide Prevention Week , t he poems we feature this week are meant to contribute to raising awareness toward this cause. All are welcome to participate) We are so often shamed when bone touches a well of grief or thoughts spin dark and deep...   Sometimes, it may feel we must always be positive or joyful. People frequently pass us a platitude and we try to smile and pretend when all we truly need is to have our heart held in their hand.  I think it is sacred to hear the sound of whale moans and to feel into our blanket of midnight waves. It isn’t easy either, especially when the sky is heavy and thoughts linger in an abyss. Nevertheless, I believe, even in our darkest days, the blackest most precious pearls lead us to emotional integrity. Therefore, I wrote this poem to honor that place within you and me. Artwork by Amanda Cass Even Whales  Moan by Carolyn Riker Stripped to fluted bone of blue-gray whale my heart’s puls


Editors Note: We share this poem in honor of  National Suicide Prevention Week . The poems we feature this week are meant to raise awareness toward this cause.  My life, lived with depression and thoughts of suicide, has not been easy... This darkness has been with me for as long as I can remember. At 60 years old, as I look back and think to myself, "why am I still here?" What strength was inside me to daily fight this demon? All I know is that first off I have always had an awareness of God in my life which has given me strength and faith to continue when I felt like giving up. Second, I began journal writing which released all those dark thoughts and feelings which had been bottled up inside. Third, finding the strength (through prayer and journal writing) to seek counseling and to start taking an anti-depression medication.  I have written this poem for National Suicide Prevention Week in honor of my struggle, and all those who fight to stay alive.