Tag Archives: poem

Marbles

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Tunnel River Marble: Photography by Noelle

Tunnel River Marble: Photography by Noelle

I feel the edges of my thoughts
A blind woman reading brail
Stretching them further
I feel the thinness
Emotions never go as far
As the first stone thought tossed

There’s no pulling back
Once thought escapes
Electric charges fire into a
Neuro net sky
Frankenstein’s monster lives
And like his maker
I, too, love and hate
What I create

I turn inward
Withdrawing the great sustenance
My attention
Each thought suddenly a marble
Rolling around on the floor
Agates
And crystals
Real blown glass

All colored to a feeling
A place or time assigned
Catalogs lay open on gray matter tables
A jeweler placing an order
Fiery anger
Melancholy blues
What is the hue of the day?

Demand: A Little Gem

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Four Quarter Moon: Photographic collage by Noelle

Four Quarter Moon: Photographic collage by Noelle

“There is a very simple secret to being happy. Just let go of your demand on this moment. Any time you have a demand on the moment to give you something or remove something, there is suffering. Your demands keep you chained to the dream state of conditioned mind. The problem is that when there is a demand, you completely miss what is now. Letting go applies to the highest sacred demand, and even to the demand for love. If you demand in some subtle way to be loved, even if you get love, it is never enough. In the next moment, the demand reasserts itself, and you need to be loved again. But as soon as you let go, there is knowing in that instant that there is love here already. The mind is afraid to let go of its demand because the mind thinks that if it lets go, it is not going to get what it wants – as if demanding works. This is not the way things work. Stop chasing peace and stop chasing love, and your heart becomes full. Stop trying to be a better person, and you are a better person. Stop trying to forgive, and forgiveness happens. Stop and be still.”
~ Adyashanti

Re-posted from Be Here Now an Insight Timer App community

Alphabet Soup

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Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

Hidden River: Photography by Noelle

After their all gone, I find I’m still here
Bound to earth a regular oak in the field
Captured in this moment a
Dog with her bone
Even the clock ticks slower than a
Frost’s melt
Goaded by the weight of
Hampered grief in my chest
I stand in the quiet, deciding?
Jump back in or dally
Kicking the cat
Love is at the center of all this, even as
Misery runs me down in
Narrow alleys that smell of
Old fish and over sweet
Poppies
Quit your begging at
Rama’s door, I say to the mirror
Salvation is in your
Tight belly – hungry for
Unity a
Volcanic sound blasting
With the power of
Excalibur
You are grace and beauty at the
Zenith of a transformation you command

This Abecedarian was created in the Front Range Writer’s Room hosted by Marj Hahne

Exiting

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Lone Leaf Beached: photography by Noelle

Lone Leaf Beached: photography by Noelle

It felt good as done at the start. Bound, lost, no exit. Pressure to make a diamond lays on my mind. After all these years have I nothing? No smooth finish, but a stumbling out the door. Denial isn’t a river in Cairo, the old joke trails, but it is an immense watercourse in my mind. With Titan effort I withdraw and hibernate the winter. At first waiting for Godot. Then like driftwood, I surface upon a lone beach. No place to go. No direction suggests itself and after a bit, I can no longer sit. Crying. No warmth or comfort. I walk. Crying. Then walk with the most outrageous and worrisome yelling, before walking with no sound at all. First aimlessly, then with a longer stride. More determined, yet aware of what floats by me. Breath in, breath out. I no longer appear to be in any hurry. Anticipation taps at my heart. Single and free, alone on the beach. The expanse a welcome blanket and the endless sea it’s own serenade of the lover yet to come.

Inspired by The New York Times crossword puzzle: 3/11/2012. An exercise in creativity from Front Range Writers Room hosted by Marj Hahne

Then Nothing

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Reblogged from Ed Strachar: posted from Totemical: Bruce Cuse artist

Reblogged from Ed Strachar Healer/  Bruce Cuse artist

The woodpecker strikes the metal roof vent
It rattles persistently in the early dawn
Then nothing
I listen more closely
I extend my hearing into the nothing
The silence is noisy
There is a whirring of the Universe ever present
A dove coos, distantly
Then nothing
My thoughts move the same way
Bills to pay
Then nothing
Work project memo to send
Then nothing
My thoughts are their own eco-system
The woodpecker strikes
So deep now, the rattle doesn’t register
Then nothing
I push my hearing even farther
I am listening for the pin drop
on a whale’s back
Off the coast of Nova Scotia
Then nothing
There is a whirring of the Universe ever present
If I allow it
It will lull me into peace

Great White Crane

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I feel the lapping at the farthest reaches of my mind from a stone thrown centuries ago
Cracking barriers like a dam giving way
It is more effort to hold in, than to break loose
I have nothing to hold onto
Bits of sand and dust
Everything to give
What is this resistance really?
Rubber band girl
It is plain to see that with what goes out only more floods in
A dam letting loose a rivulet that becomes a stream
A river to a great delta water course gushing into the bay
That opens further to an even greater ocean
There is no purpose to these chains that bind when I have only love to give
Let it rain until the floods have washed even the mud away from my feet
I walk freely in the reeds, a great white crane

Sandhill Cranes: re-posted from Bing photo of the day by Patrick Frischknecht of Aurora Photos

Sandhill Cranes: re-posted from Bing photo of the day by Patrick Frischknecht of Aurora Photos

Kite Flyers

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Stained glass at Living Arts Center Denver

Stained glass at Living Arts Center Denver: photography by Noelle

How the mundane mimics the divine….

The little boy dances around his father in the late afternoon sun
The kite rises in the strong wind and he squeals with delight
Then, it pitches and slams into the ground
All movement stops in his little body
Arms drop to his side
Face crestfallen
He turns to his father who reassures
It’s okay
Just a downed kite
It will fly again
Pick it up and toss it into the wind
It will fly
So he does
And it sores, tail whipping like a dragon
The currents of the Universe are strong
Pick up your kite and throw it back into the wind
It will fly
It will sore
It’s tail will whip the sky like a dragon