life: acoustic & amplified
poetry, quotes & thoughts about life
Archive for the category “beauty”
the sensual colors of poetry
I like your wide open window soft abandon
your wild free wheelin rambunctiousness
your inexplicable
untamed
a soft new invention
a wilderness
a concoction of sensual indigenous aromas
and I want to hear you sing
your wild buffalo song
my axe wailing some new chord
with the sun on our backs
cool water in our packs
.
I want our hikes to go on for days
months years
exploring everything wild
and real
fully contaminated with green forest and wild herbs
till our blood is so fully and completely inoculated
with chlorophyll and light
that our dreams become plainly visible
.
as the light runs from the skies
and the sun dims
we will lie on warm ground
inventing a new perfume
under a blanket of whispering stars
🔥
Adam A. DeFranco
I’m in an open relationship
with my heart.
How can I contain my passion for snails?
For otters, milkweed in autumn,
the holes in old socks that live
for decades in a drawer,
stray cats, lonely porcelain
Sleeping Beauty and the Prince
salt and pepper shakers,
coyotes moaning in the wetland,
wayward petals that wander
far from their roses
on rain-swollen breaths of September.
Each creature, I’m afraid,
is my favorite partner.
You, you above all.
I say that to everyone, don’t I?
After love making,
the universe and I just lie here
gazing through our tears.
Who is the sweat-beaded Dancer?
Who is the Witness wearing only
a necklace of stars?
One who burns completely,
leaving neither smoke
nor ashes,
becomes pure.
❤️
Alfred K. LaMotte
Yes, God is mysterious as fog,
but please, don’t give me that stuff
about God playing hard to get.
She is so into you
I can’t believe you don’t see it.
She’s flagrant about it.
She writes you the steamiest letters
in the colors of sky and leaf,
in stone and sea and child,
her hands are all over you,
she has moves that—admit it—
make you blush.
He’s in your dreams,
whispers to you when you aren’t listening.
You think those scriptures are some dry text
but it’s him, fawning all over you,
saying your name.
She wears the most revealing outfits,
struts her stuff, begs for attention.
They’ve always been like that.
Going on singles cruises,
trolling the skankiest bars in town,
hoping for luck.
She has no shame, no holding back.
I’d take her aside and talk to her
about decorum and such,
but golly,
I can’t even get in the same room with her
without her climbing all over me.
She’s yours, mate.
Yeah, it’s a little wild. Razor’s edge.
I get why you pull back.
But listen.
Secretly, so in the dark you don’t even know,
it’s your own heart that’s flirting
with everything that moves.
She’s the one
who’s holding you quietly, calmly, murmuring,
“Easy. Easy. I’m right here.
You’ve got me. It’s OK.”
______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
I want to kiss you forever
I want to lay with you
in a tangle of sheets and tongues and crazy, wild hair
with the rain beating against the foggy windowpane
and touch your face
as our warm
eyes and souls and bodies
melt into one
with God
the perfect trifecta
I want to stay there
forever
and then another endless, beautiful day
I’ll not ever ask for more
than to love
and be loved
like this
by you
💋
Amy Lloyd (AL)
You can
die for it–
an idea,
or the world. People
have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound
to the stake,
creating
an unforgettable
fury of light. But
this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought
of China,
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun
blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises
under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?
What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it
whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.
~ Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems
Remember: Joy is not a sin; sacrifice is not a virtue.
❤️ Paulo Coelho ❤️
awareness is the key to change
I tell my father about the way
I collect small things
in the sacs of my heart—
thick juniper berries
apple cores that retain their shape
and the click of shells
that sound like an oven baking.
He presses the mole on my shoulder
that matches his shoulder,
proof that I was not found
at the bottom of the sea.
I also got his feet, far from
Cinderella’s dainty glass slippers
— and fingers, too wide for most
Cracker Jack wedding rings.
I read how some mammals never
forget their young—
their speckled spots, odd goat
cries, or birthmarks on curved ivory tusks.
There must be some
thread of magic there
cooling honey to stone—where
like recognizes like or how
a rib seeks its twin.
🙋🏼🙋🏼
A Taste of Blue by Cynthia Manick
Our survival adaptations are so tough, but our wounds are so delicate. To heal, we have to lift the armor carefully- it saved our lives, after all. It’s like moving your best friend off to the side of the path. You don’t trample on her, you don’t hit her with a sledgehammer. You honor her presence like a warm blanket that has kept you safe and sound during wintry times. And then, when the moment is right, you get inside and stitch your wounds with the thread of love, slowly and surely, not rushing to completion, nurturing as you weave, tender and true. The healing process has a heart of its own, moving at its own delicate pace. We are such wondrous weavers…
💞
– Jeff Brown
TO STAND HERE
is to stand
at the center
of circle
after growing circle
and reach
in the mind
for a far circumference
that holds as focus
an interior so far in
so concentrated
with origin
we find ourselves
by looking out
at what looks back,
the lighted edge
of rock and sky,
the sweet
unmoving darkness
over the horizon
that makes
a perfect
beckoning symmetry
to the night
beneath our feet,
the underground
where light cannot live
but whose darkness
makes a ground
on which to stand.
The central
ancestral story
of those who
lived here
looking out
at the same horizon
and the same
surrounding
ground,
who saw a world
that witnessed them
at a privileged
center,
their lives caught
like ours
in the glance
of what lies beyond
only
for a fleeting
moment.
…
From LON’S FORT
From Pilgrim: Poems by David Whyte
Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
toward heaven
only you.
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.
–Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.
– Mahatma Gandhi
I’m not here to live up to your expectations and you’re not here to live up to mine.
– Bruce Lee
I am here to tell you morning has come
there’s this whisper promise
in the breeze,
a bit of ethereal fog slipping between the sheets
of night
and dawn breaking.
there’s this rumor running
afoot in this new born day,
a sideways glance of something –
Oh it’s JOY!
and all this glory burning hot.
there’s this holy hushing
songs of angels,
a chorus of bluebells
bowing heads
softly clapping
as they watch it all approaching.
there’s this first blush of light,
smudging darkness,
a bit like the bitter and sweet
mixed each day with our longing
for joy to come nest.
there’s a song playing on low
sometimes you forget to remember
be still and know
as sure as spring follows winter
love always wins
listen to your heartbeat
joy is our birthright
right now
morning has come
🌞
Amy Lloyd (AL)
It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That’s why we wake
and look out — no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.
Yes!
-William Stafford
At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.
– Albert Schweitzer
what fire am i?
i am the fire on the mountain
i am the fire by the sea
i am the fire in the forest
burning down all of the trees
i am the fire in the desert
i am the fire in the snow
i am the fire that will warm you
when your bones have grown cold
i am the fire for your shelter
i am the fire for your bread
i am the fire for your hunger
whenever you go to bed
i am the fire on the water
i am the fire that is near
i am the fire burning your words
consuming your doubt and your fear
i am the fire of your longing
i am the fire of your soul
i am the fire of your loving
i will never grow cold
i am the fire for your winter
i am the fire for your spring
i am the fire of your living
passion and life i will bring
i am the fire of destruction
i am the fire where you die
i am the fire of your Phoenix
as you rise, as you soar, to the sky
🔥
Amy Lloyd (AL)
think pink color story
today is Pink’s Birthda! Alecia Beth Moore, known professionally as Pink, is an American singer, songwriter, dancer and actress. Noted for having “a strong signature voice and a literally acrobatic ability on stage,” Pink has sold over 135 million records worldwide. Happy birthday, Pink!
i am learning
i am learning to be brave
i am learning to speak my own language
i am learning what i want to become
i am learning what kind of life i want to live
i am learning to stand in my place without flinching
i am learning to go my own way
i am learning not to help people who don’t want help
i am learning to embrace my powerful spirit
i am learning how to build my own bridges
complete with lions to guard against the foot-traffic
i am learning i have value to bring to those waiting to hear my voice
i am learning the intensity of my own burning passions
i am learning to keep digging in the murkiest of my own brokenness
i am learning to accept my imperfections as beautiful
i am learning to think in terms of unlimited possibilities
i am learning i will not always be understood in the way I intended
i am learning to apologize and then move freely forward
i am learning
and learning
and learning
new things
every minute
every day
i am a learning to be a part of the healing of the world
because i am willing to learn to be me
💞
Amy Lloyd (AL)
your prison is walking through this world all alone – Deperado (lyric).
You must leave a lot behind
for your life to become whole.
What the Beloved lets go of
to have you!
If there were a hell
God would always be there
carrying people out.
There is a flock that is not well
without you.
When you think you’ve run away,
proud of your independence,
you’re really just lost.
You need each other.
All of life is God’s party
at having found you.
Or maybe, today, another.
Don’t be ashamed to be brought in
on the shepherd’s shoulders:
you got lost in the best possible way,
looking for God.
Remember each of the other ninety-nine
came the same way.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
listen to Love is My Religion
and before it can be begun
the wind whips the wisps of promise
out of our reaching hands
the hard ground dries the wettest seeds
the thorny earth strangles
the fragile thin ice easily breaking
plunges us under the dark icy water of yesterday’s pain
the sensitive places choke us
we allow old wounds to be reopened
by new innocents
replay
rewind
again and again
life is not always kind
love is not always given a chance to bloom
buds crushed early
unicorns are tricky
yeti never let themselves be fully seen
or photographed
quickly disappearing into the foggy forest
yes, truth is written by those in the know:
“it is ours to win or lose”
so, what will we choose?
to step in or duck out?
some people love to talk loud about the desire to win
then secretly, swiftly throw the game
and silently walk away
thinking they are playing life safe
fear is a brutal master
comfort-zones will kill us all
though we’ll keep
breathing for many years
trust is a deep quarry hidden within
the high walls of the castle
each kingdom must be won
the beast slain by our courageous spirit
removing the massive heads of the monsters
with the found sword of our personal truths
Envision holding those fearful grotesque trophies aloft!
Stepping into your full name!
Champion
Conquerer
Love always wins!
You must choose it!
You can do it,
were born that way!
Amy Lloyd (AL)
All my life, I thought of love as some kind of voluntary enslavement. Well, that’s a lie: freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself wholly, the person who feels freest, is the person who loves most wholeheartedly.
― Paulo Coelho
Read that again:
All my life, I thought of love as some kind of voluntary enslavement. Well, that’s a lie: freedom only exists when love is present. The person who gives him or herself wholly, the person who feels freest, is the person who loves most wholeheartedly.
― Paulo Coelho
chances are something you give yourself. – The Universe (TUT)
It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun-
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky-
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
—
As I Grew Older by Langston Hughes
It’s a story as old as time itself
Girl meets boy
There they go
Falling in love
It’s an ending no tale wants to tell
Girl and boy
Drifting farther
And farther apart
Now she lives in the house of broken dreams
pictures fade
Time stands still
All the shadows standing in their places
Cracks appear
Clock feebly striking on through the gloom
As the tears fall down her face
It’s all just the way it all was then
Just the same as the day when life broke
30 years ago
although lots of things have gathered
into every available surface and corner
Dust falls down
Settling on fading glitter
Grime on glass
Fogging up the window panes
mold grows free
covering years of freeform piles
She still smiles that painted smile
You can’t see the lonely spaces
when you meet her on the street
Life moves on and on without her
It’s illusion that you see
Because she lives in the house of broken dreams
pictures fade
Time stands still
All the shadows standing in their places
Cracks appear
Clock strikes weakly at each hour
As the tears fall down her face
It’s the ending no reader wants to read
Girl and boy
Drifting farther
And farther apart
until he leaves
and she fights
to get something she can keep forever
as she always dreamed it would be
Never letting go
Never moving on
It’s the hardest part
Nobody wants to read this ending
This extreme dirty secret behind estate gates
stone lions eternally guarding
heartbreak frozen in time
hoarding only she can stop
💨
Amy Lloyd (AL)
If you have a dream, don’t just sit there. Gather courage to believe that you can succeed and leave no stone unturned to make it a reality.
– Roopleen
“I have a firm belief in this now, not only in terms of my own experience, but in knowing the experiences of other people. When you follow your bliss, and by bliss I mean the deep sense of being in it, and doing what the push is out of your own existence—it may not be fun, but it’s your bliss and there’s bliss behind pain too.
“You follow that and doors will open where there were no doors before, where you would not have thought there’d be doors, and where there wouldn’t be a door for anybody else.
“. . . And so I think the best thing I can say is to follow your bliss. If your bliss is just your fun and your excitement, you’re on the wrong track. I mean, you need instruction. Know where your bliss is. And that involves coming down to a deep place in yourself.”
Joseph Campbell, “The Hero’s Journey”
life: acoustic & amplified 
