poetry Archives - Page 14 of 21 - Adulting: Second- Half

Soul Sunday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Maybe I should call it Ghoul Sunday since it is Halloween?! Happy Halloween! Despite having only bought my Halloween candy this week, and despite the fact that my family insisted that I way “overbought” for our typical number of trick-or-treaters, guess who has to go out today, and buy more candy?!? I’m not complaining.

My regular readers know that Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. I was tempted to share a link to Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”, but that’s just too cliché, even for me. I actually found a poem this week that I really like. It speaks to the ruts which we get into, and the process that we take to get out of our dead ends in life, whether they be bad habits, or relationship issues, or just anything in our lives that we wish to change for the better. So today’s poem on the blog is not written by me. Still I’ll probably doodle a poem for myself, sometime today. I suggest that you do the same for yourself. Poems are an interesting way to converse with your deepest self. Here’s today’s poem (and have a fun Halloween!!):

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters - Portia Nelson | Sobriety quotes, Wise mind, Autobiography

Soul Sunday

Favorite Quotes from Classic Poets - little infinite Poetry for Life

Leave it to a truly great poet, to describe it best. Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry is pure discovery. You start writing a prose piece, and you usually have an outline in mind. When you write prose, you are usually working hard at “making sense”, and being clear and wrapping everything up, in a neat little finish. However, you start writing a poem, and you end up surprising yourself. You discover a delicious, mysterious part of yourself that you didn’t notice before. Your feelings start showing up, in the form of word play. Discover a little piece of yourself today. Write a poem.

Here is my poem for today:

Why is it that I never think about my heart,

Until I pay too much attention to what is stored inside of it?

Everything that is precious to me,

lives boldly and passionately,

bulging with movement and rhythm,

Inside of my heart, creating the beat and the motion of my life.

And in good times, that beating is strong, and vital and fearless.

And in confusing times, that beating feels unguarded, uneven and exposed.

In those times, I remind myself

Of an extraordinary heart that knows how to beat itself,

One vital heartbeat at a time. And I let the drumsticks fall to the floor.

And I stop thinking about my heart.

I trust my heart to keep beating on towards better moments just around the bend.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Sundays are usually quiet and lovely and this one is no exception. I hope that this post finds you well and content. Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. On Sundays, I share a poem that I have written or a poem that someone else has written, which has moved me in some way. Write a poem today, even if it is something you choose to just share with yourself. Most of us write to ourselves anyway, even in published form. I started to write a poem, but I’m not strong enough to be vulnerable right now. My raw little mollusc self, feels more comfortable in her shell today. So here is a lovely poem from the great poet Rumi. You can never go wrong with Rumi:

Rumi - The Guest House | Inspirational words, Rumi quotes soul, Wisdom quotes

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning, friends. Welcome to the most lovely, tranquil, peaceful day of the week – a day to just breathe and let go. On Sundays, I devote this blog to poetry. I either write a poem or I share a poem written by another writer. Today’s poem on the blog, is written by an extremely talented, inspiring person named Nightbirde. Nightbirde is a singer who despite getting a “golden buzzer” (from the finicky Simon Cowell, no less), had to drop out of the America’s Got Talent competition due to her battle with cancer. She recently posted the poem that she wrote (seen below) on her Instagram account. The poem is admittedly sad, yet achingly beautiful. Despite writing the poem, Nightbirde also posted a pretty picture of herself, and assured her fans this: “Not gonna die. Don’t worry. . . . . I know I posted kinda of like a little bit of a sad poem about dying, however, Im not dying, I’m doing great, I’m inching forward slowly.”

That’s all that is needed from any of us in our lives: “inching forward slowly“. It doesn’t matter how fast you are going, just keep up the forward motion. It’s not a race, it’s an adventure. Stay aware. Nightbirde also had this to say:

“What a miracle that the pain I’ve walked through can be reworked into beauty that makes people all over the world open their eyes wider.”

That is what I mean by my daily tagline: Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love. Don’t let the pain which you experience, go to waste, nor add to a bigger pile of stinkin’ pain, lying around this earth. We all have pain in our lives. That’s just part of being human. But our pain can be turned to good, in the forms of compassion, empathy, perspective, hope, inspiration, which all come together to form the highest vibration of Love.

Here is Nightbirde’s poem:

A Hero In Flames

I want to die while my heart is still a greenhouse for hope
All my wild dreams as seedlings in egg cartons
Reaching toward the window

I cannot die yellow and hungry
I will not die in sterile air

But I would like to die
While the fireflies are still glowing
Morse coding their poetry for a cynical earth

I would like to die like Joan of Arc
With dignity and urgency and stubbornness
A watercolor portrait in the night
A sight to behold, a hero in flames

Soul Sunday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

A few years ago, I was vacationing in Yosemite National Park with my family. We were about to embark on a big, long, steep hiking trail to see one of the most incredible waterfalls which I have ever witnessed, Vernal Falls. (and I am fortunate enough to have visited a lot of beautiful waterfalls in my lifetime) Now, my four children at that time, were all teenagers and young adults, but there was a family slightly ahead of us on the trail whose children were a good bit younger than ours. Not far from the trailhead, basically just a little bit past the heavily trafficked paved part of the trail, one of the little boys from the family ahead of us, threw himself dramatically upon a boulder, totally exasperated, completely spent, and he started sobbing and wailing, “Is it over yet?!? Are we almost done?!” I never forgot that moment. It was cute and amusing, but I felt sorry for the parents. They were in for a long day, and I was thinking to myself that they probably wouldn’t get to the falls on that particular trip. I only bring this story up, because this is how I have been feeling about this particular September. “Is it over yet?!? Are we almost done?!?” And the funny thing is, at least it makes me giggle inside. I am wailing on my own proverbial boulder. As Sanhita Baruah says, “Every day is a gift, but some days are packaged better.”

I am little off-track today, with the telling of my Yosemite story. As my regular readers know, Sundays are not a day for prose on the blog. Sundays are devoted to the waterfall of words which we call poetry. I either write a poem, or a share a poem from another writer that has intrigued me. Today is a day when I share another’s poem. Please write a poem today (it’ll do you good) and if so inclined, please share your poem in my Comments section. Today’s poem was written by one of the “Astro Poets”, Alex Dimitrov:

Soul Sunday

Good morning, my beautiful readers. This is a beautiful morning in my parts. The sun is shining, the air is still, and the flourishing, lush, summer-grown plants are relishing the sunlight drying them off, from the good, quenching rains which we have been experiencing lately. This Sunday physically demonstrates peace and hope, right outside of my window. How fitting for a Sunday! My regular readers know that Sundays are devoted to poetry, here at Adulting – Second Half. I either write a poem or I share a poem that has moved be by another writer. Write a poem today. Get to know what is stirring you. Writing a poem is one of the best ways to get acquainted with your most intimate self. Here is my poem for today:

“Okay”

And then the question starts swirling, What space do I write from today?

My carefully constructed, detached, deprecating, sarcastic self? or . . .

My half-held together, desperately attached, questioning, depleted self?

In my core, my deepest self, holds all of it together, firmly threaded in love,

And lightly pulls my hair away from my ear and softly whispers,

“Honey, just write from your heart, and let the rest of it all fall away.

And then get yourself a cookie, and composed or crazy, just live your day.

It’s all okay. It’s all going to be okay. You, my love, are always going to be okay.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Good morning, my treasured readers. I hope that you are having the kind of Sunday morning that I am having. Relaxing, peaceful, sun-filled, hopeful . . . . this morning indicates a day filled with promise.

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Sometimes I write a poem, and sometimes I share a poem that another writer has shared with the world. At the very least today, write a poem and share it with yourself. Poetry is perhaps the most intimate form of language which we have in this world.

“Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.” — Paul Engle

Here is my poem for today:

Calm Waters

I am sitting here dwelling in my relief

Isn’t that how it always goes with grief?

It comes in waves, it crescendos and crashes,

Until it levels out, and the tears dry in my lashes.

The largest waves end up as the harmless shallows on the shore,

Only to be sucked back out into the massive ocean of steady core.

The raging storms and waves will be stirred up again, I know.

But today, I will rest in the steady waters that only lightly flow.

Soul Sunday

Hello friends and readers. I hope that you are experiencing a delicious, comforting, restful, yet interesting and rejuvenating holiday weekend. I’m a little “slow on the go” this Sunday morning. I find my mind wandering on to many things, but none of it rhymes, nor do my words seems to fit any kind of a poetic flow. My regular readers know that I devote Sundays to poetry on the blog. Poetry can be serious. Poetry can be fun. Poetry can be mysterious. Poetry can be poignant. Write a poem today. You won’t regret it. You’ll be tickled by your cleverness. Today I am borrowing from some other poets’ cleverness and wit. Here are two poets’ fun and short, little rhymes:

GREEN EGGS AND HAM – Dr. Seuss

I do not like them in a box
I do not like them with a fox
I do not like them in a house
I do not like them with a mouse
I do not like them here or there
I do not like them anywhere
I do not like green eggs and ham
I do not like them Sam I am

A WORD TO HUSBANDS – Ogden Nash

To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever you’re wrong, admit it;
Whenever you’re right, shut up.

Here are a few other funnies from the humorous American poet, Ogden Nash:

I think that I shall never see a billboard lovely as a tree. Perhaps, unless the billboards fall, I’ll never see a tree at all.

If you don’t want to work you have to work to earn enough money so that you won’t have to work.

Some tortures are physical And some are mental, But the one that is both Is dental.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, friends. I suppose this is the time of year that marks “unofficially” the end of summer. We made it. As I often asked my kids at dinner on various school days, “What were your highlights? What were your lowlights?” After you get them out of your system, pitch the lowlights, and keep the highlights in your “Beautiful Memories” file, to open up whenever you need their reassurance and joy.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Our prayers are with you, Louisiana. You are strong survivors!! You will prevail⚜.

Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. Poetry is the song of the heart. Poetry is the line of communication between your heart and your deepest intuition. Despite sometimes being puzzling and relying on your own personal interpretation, you can discover so much about yourself by reading and by writing poetry. Write a poem today. Write a love poem to yourself. I think that you will treasure it. Poetry really helps you to hone in on what truly and deeply resonates with you. And that truly matters. It does matter.

Yesterday, my dear friend painted the above lovely picture of the koi. Isn’t it a beautiful watercolor? Do something creative today, whether it be writing, or cooking, or painting, or drawing, or singing or dancing or doodling. Savor the experience. Be in the moment. It will be a wonderful way to end your week, and to start a new one, afresh. Here is my poem for today:

“Inbox”

She opened her inbox,

The emails were piled on top of each other,

Like a giant block of meaningless letters,

All vying for her attention.

Unsolicited, automated, unnecessary distractions.

She checked them all off, except for a precious few,

And she decidedly deleted them,

Out of sight, out of mind.

Plunged them into the file called:

Trash.

She recently read that every single day,

she thinks 50,000 random thoughts.

Perhaps she should remember to sort her thoughts,

like she does her email inbox.

So that her attention can remain on the thoughts that matter.

And that the trash thoughts can be easily deleted,

with an easy click, like a blink of her eye.

So all that is left in the inbox of her mind,

Is insight, and mindful peace.

And all that remains is the file called:

Love.

Soul Sunday

Hello, loves. I am happy that you are here with me. Welcome to Soul Sunday. On Sundays, I wax poetic. I write a poem or I share a poem by another poet. I think that poems open you up to your own soul better than any other kind of writing. Poems often bypass the analytical mind and head straight to the heart. Here’s your assignment: Write a poem today. Just start writing. You may be amazed with what talents you possess! You will feel better and clever and mysterious and interesting. You will feel more connected to your deepest self, and that is a wonderful way to start a week.

The Course

The Teacher arrived and opened his familiar, worn lesson book,

I winced, but The Teacher smiled and asked me to take another look.

I thought that I already mastered the lesson (many times before).

But The Teacher reminded me that there is always something more.

The Lesson is always the simple, solid same, but the learner is ever shifting.

The learner comes with new, fresh eyes to grasp what The Lesson is now gifting.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.