life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “create”

sometimes on a greyhound  

 

 A life without love is a waste. “Should I look for spiritual love, or material, or physical love?”, don’t ask yourself this question. Discrimination leads to discrimination. Love doesn’t need any name, category or definition. Love is a world itself. Either you are in, at the center…either you are out, yearning.
❤️

~ Shams

  
to learn to trust

we must be trustworthy. 

trust is a choice. 

not an easy choice. 

but the best choice. 

trust is not naive 

trust is 

brutal 

reckless

ruthless

courageous 

strong

brave

trust takes the teeth out of insanity 

trust allows us to make good choices 

trust gives us the ability to know wisdom

trust opens the door to love

trust brings healing to our lives

trust is a gift

that must start with yourself 

just trust yourself a little bit

learn to be trustworthy to your soul

soon you will be able to give some to others

then, maybe, even the world

💞

AL

  
Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. The one who looks outside, dreams; the one who looks inside, awakens.  

❤️

    -Carl Jung

  
I want to both awaken and dream, to see all that is in my heart (and yes, that means the dark gunky stuff as well as the wonderful shiny stuff) and see the world in a way that helps me contribute to dreams of sustainable peace and justice. And here it is- the gift of another day to begin again. 

❤️

  – Oriah Mountain Dreamer

  

The surface is always blank.

The real, submerged. 
Look down into that sky,

where beneath a vague cloud flashes,
—is it above or below?—

created, given, waiting.
There is another way,

another side of your little boat.
Beneath your dreary, fruitless nights

something graced awaits,
abundance exceeding your capacity, blessing

at which you laugh in wonder and fright,
a gift that bears you to the breaking point,

a net swelled with light and glory,
and not by luck, but given in love: a presence, 

a companionship you hadn’t recognized.
Heaven is offered, hearts are restored

in something as simple as a broiled fish, shared.
But first you learn a new way,

another side, the unrecognized friend.
And then, after the gift, the revelation,

you learn a new way, another side.
The Mystery doesn’t leave you.

It leads.

__________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

  
find photo sources at http://www.pinterest.com

magical moments 



Look, your longing swung from the trapeze.

The clown is you as well and the tame tiger

who begs for mercy calls someone to mind.

Even the tin-pot music

has its charm; it seems

you’re starting to make peace

with your times

(everyone else has,

why not me? —you say).

So why then does the circus tent

rise above an ancient graveyard?

🎪

Circus by Adam Zagajewski

Translated by Clare Cavanagh


  
I didn’t intend to eat my

Chocolatini until last…

It was my shooting star!

My most special-to-look-forward-to,

my magic bullet,

my favorite,

intention for the ending of the box.

Saved.

Cherished.

Savored.

Longed for.

But then,

I finished my book.

I finished reading

The Night Circus,

and my chocolatini is the closest thing

I could find to a chocolate mouse

to celebrate with!

What a cool book!

I have not read a novel for a long time,

have not found one that captured me in years…

until now.

No hesitation with my truffle choice today –

it was the best show of respect,

and gratitude to stories,

to writers,

to imagination,

I could give.

The circus arrives without warning…

the circus of dreams…

and we are swept away by the very taste of it…

🎪

AL


  


  

I just went to the circus for the first time last night

My super-secret-surprise

Was awesome!

I’ve always wanted to go!

I wonder what I would have felt as a child

I was so sensitive

I think I would have closed my eyes

And cried

I almost felt like that at age 45

I’m glad you held my hand

 

It was

The ultimate show of over consumption

A spectacular spectacle

A mix-match of the brilliant and the bizarre

Awesome and cheesy all wrapped to go

From beginning to end

Never taking a breath

Pounding and pounding

The ringmaster

Ablaze with rhinestones

The acrobats and the clowns

The elephants and the tigers

Horses

(Doing tricks

They didn’t seem to really enjoy)

As they steal the show!

Animals are amazing!
I love trapeze artists flying so high

The bearded lady and the wild man of Borneo

Made honorable mention

With a clown act

That was tongue in cheek

in our PC era of art
Men balancing women

And women balancing men

Each showing their skill

As they contort their bodies

into abnormal positions

sequined outfits

shining in the lights

Motorcycles in a steel ball

4, 5, 6, 7

until it is a blur

how can they do that?

Meetal Man (we renamed him Meatball man)

Holding up astounding weights

As people pile on top of people

On top of him

Trampolines, glitter

Pirates, stilts, dancing beautiful girls

Dancing lion suits

With two people rolling in harmony

under more people in lion suits

more and more

too much to see

too much to process

too much to comprehend

my eyes trying to go 2, 3, 4…different directions

as it plays on and on

with tired children crying

and spilling snowcones

and popcorn

as the parents

(Many a freak-show themselves)

try to ignore them

 

It is spectacular

Breathtaking

Overwhelming

Slightly disturbing at times

A Mix of over-blown showmanship

and

amazing talent

The beautiful and the weird

All mixed together

Delivered at breakneck speed

With so much energy it wears out the eyes

And my mind

Which definitely can’t comprehend it all
I loved it…

and I wanted to run away…
Yes, this is the legacy

of what PT Barnham had in mind

This is the circus!

Magic

Slight of hand, smoke and mirrors, lights and flash

making everything more

brilliant than it could possibly be

This is definitely, over the top, big-top

Self declared…

but it still could be true…

…the greatest show on earth!

🎪

AL

  

  

find art sources at http://www.pinterst.com

2…the space between  

 

 “For us women the spiritual life, in one way, is easier than for men. Only a certain temperament of man can surrender like we can surrender. And spiritual life is surrender. Bhai Sahib said, ‘Women are taken up through the path of love, for love is a feminine mystery.’ He said we women do not need many spiritual practices. We need only to renounce. Renounce what? Renounce the world. Complete renunciation, which is the most difficult thing for the woman, is necessary. I had to do it—to give everything away. Bhai Sahib said to me, “You cannot say to the Beloved, ‘Oh I love you, but this is mine, and so far and no further.'” You have to give everything away, including yourself, in complete surrender.”
💞

~ Irina Tweedie (20th century Russian Sufi mystic)

 

  

 

 

Yesterday, this poem (below) resurfaced. I wrote it a while ago, after a disappointment. It immediately spoke up and wanted to appear on the blog…I said, hmmmm, do I really want to go there in public? It kept saying, yes (and refusing to be ignored). OK. Surrender brings humility. Rejection beings a chance to learn new layers. Love, and life, require courage. 

 So, I am posting this poem for whoever it is for…
 

 have you ever given,
or received,

a gift –

unwanted,

or misunderstood?
We’ve built a whole retail myth of love 

from giving, 

mostly, 

unwanted gifts. 

‘Re-gifting’ is a popular side effect 

of things taken,

out of obligation,

by others who don’t want, 

or think they need,

the present presented. 
It’s a thing in relationships as well,

it takes two to tango. 

If one person is wanting something,

the other is not able to understand,

or accept, 

it just doesn’t work. 
This week I experienced a return. 

My greatest gift,

the gift of me, 

held out to another. 

My gift was not wanted,

so, eventually, I withdrew

this large, tall gift of 

myself, 

complete with all I have to bring to a relationship. 

I wanted to share this with someone,

who I love,

but that person doesn’t want the same thing I want. 

This gift of sharing all of the various shades, shapes and colors of our souls 

in this amazing thing called life. 
One of my lessons,

hardest learned –

you can’t give someone something, 

if they don’t want it. 
I have become mindfully committed to 

not allowing a glimpse of possibility,

or potential,

to derail me from what I really want.
Never. never. never….

settle,

Never. never. never….

quit!
You can make lemonade from lemons, 

but

you can’t make a silk purse

out of a sow’s ear. 
This week I received blessed closure. 

The final collapse of space held for another to enter

The invitation explored, 

expired, 

I moved into new, beautiful space. 

No more allowing,

or trying to give myself

to someone who didn’t really want what I have to give. 

It’s not wrong,

it’s just painful. 
Unconditional love is free,

living and giving it 

requires responsibility to living my highest and best 

and requiring that in return. 

I believe in it,

completely, 

however, 

it will cost you,

change you,

require much more than cheaper versions of love. 

Not everyone can accept the responsibility of this gift,

which always requires the best of us,

the same in gift in return,

knowing its value,

tenderest of care,

thinking of the other, 

stepping out of our ego, 

into its vast ocean of mystery,

life changing grace. 

This week I followed the gift full circle. 
I woke up a bit sad, 

truthfully, for both of us,

but new,

released from the wish of what was not to be. 
I hope to be able to re-gift it soon,

to someone 

who truly knows how to value it,

nurture it,

return it to me,

equally,

with the dream,

the vision,

of what could be,

if we build an ark of this love,

sail into the mystic

and invite the world 

to the best party ever…

Water into wine,

has always been,

just the beginning of miracles!!!!!

❤️💔❤️

AL

  

distilled beauty 

 

 I could write a book on that…
I’ll write a poem instead

I’ll condense the whole story

into a few lines

a word 

or two

and 

there you have it. 

The End. 

📚

AL

   
    
    
 
  
find sources for blackout poems and quotes @ http://www.pinterest.com (search/blackout poetry)

stay in the moment  

 

I do not wish you riches, not the glow of greatness.

But that wherever you go, some weary heart shall gladden at your smile,

or some shadowed life know sunshine for a while.

So may your path be a track of light,

like angel’s footsteps passing through the night.

                                                                                          -Found in an old church in Upwaltham, England

what if I never see this spot again?

what if this is my last day to see this particular

brand of beauty?

what if I never again feel the depths of the oh-so-perfect imperfection of who I am at this place?

what if I never again have a conversation 

with these polka-dot tailed seagulls?

never see these particular shades of blue and green/grey metallic ocean 

reflecting this piece of sky 

dotted with these aged green mossed stoned edges 

and raggedy, fragile, wisp-clouds?

what if the sun doesn’t ever hit my eyes again with this same blinding glory-glare,

this playtime, fun-time, of winter sun heat

mixed with just a hint of coming springtime chill?

can I drink enough in this moment?

can I permanently record the glorious, salty, smell of this ordinary, extraordinary, morning 

into my eternal bank account 

of favorite things ever?

will I be present enough to this once in a lifetime experience of right-this-very minute-ness,

to hold it inside my bones,

absorb it into the very fabric of my dna,

so that it actually becomes me?

so that, my future conversations

with all the grieving, broke-down, hearts;

all the rioting, joyous, hearts;

all the skipping.a.beat wondering,

or sandbag.heavy wandering hearts;

in this world,

will be informed by this exquisite soul beauty. 

will they be able to feel this exact moment

massaged into the broken hope of their lost wholeness?

will they feel the bubbles of it in the champagne of their happiness?

see the beginnings of the road home within their weary, dusty, blistered pilgrimage feet?

will I be able to allow it to glow, 

flow, 

freely

to every child of God?

will I be able to remember? 

this light is the light of everything.

we are all God’s children. 

we are all God’s beloved children. 

☀️

AL

 

 So that I stopped there
and looked into the waters

seeing not only

my reflected face

but the great sky

that framed my lonely figure

and after a moment

I lifted my hands

and then my eyes

and I allowed myself

to be

astonished

by the great everywhere

calling to me

like an old,

invisible and unspoken

invitation,

like something

in one moment

both calling to me

and radiating

from where I stood,

as if I could encompass

everything I had been given

and everything ever

taken from me 

as if I could be

everything I have learned 

and everything

I could ever know,

as if I knew

in that moment

both the way I had come

and, secretly,

the way

I was still promised to go,

brought together,

like this,

with the unyielding ground

and the symmetry

of the moving sky,

caught in still waters,

 

Someone I have been,

and someone

I am just, 

about to become,

something I am

and will be forever,

the sheer generosity

of being loved

through loving:

the miracle reflection

of a twice blessed life.

© Twice Blessed by David Whyte: from  Work in Progress

  

conservation: only you can set your soul on fire  

   

If you have one hour of air

And many hours to go,

You must breathe slowly.

If you have one arm’s length

and many things to care for,

You must give freely. 

If you have one chance to know God

And many doubts, you must

Set your heart on fire.

We are blessed.

Each day is a chance.

We have two arms.

Fear wastes air.

🔥

Freefall by Mark Nepo

  
photos found at http://www.pinterest.com

Catch that poem 

 

 Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.

– Mary Oliver

 

 Running to Catch a Poem: Remembering the Poet in the Story 

Poems came to me

As if from far away.

I would feel them coming,

I would rush into the house,

Looking for paper and pencil.

It had to be quick,

For they passed through me

And were gone forever.

💫

– Ruth Stone, “Fragrance” (in her last collection “What Love Comes To”

💥

As a poet myself, I feel for Ruth Stone, because thanks to Elizabeth Gilbert, Stone’s mode of chasing poems like runaway horses is favorite, but few have read the poet herself or even remember her name. It’s well worth seeking out her work and noticing, along the way, how she rose above a dark river of grief and pain, especially after her second husband (also a poet) hanged himself from a door in the family home.
Oh yes. Then there are two delicious further revelations in Gilbert’s account of how she heard it from Stone. When a poem got away from her, she felt it galloping away, “searching for another poet”. Then sometimes she would manage to grab an escaping poem by the tail, and would feel herself pulling it back. “In these instances, the poem would appear on the page from the last word to the first – backward, but otherwise intact.” (Elizabeth Gilbert, “Big Magic”, 65.)
Many of us dreamers know exactly how that works, as we pull back dreams by the tail as they run away. How many of the dreams that escape go searching for another dreamer?

💫

Robert Moss

 

photo sources found @ http://www.pinterest.com 

🌟
http://www.mossdreams.com

http://maryoliver.beacon.org

 

 I string words like pearls
Knotting silence between each one

like silk thread

in a jewelers skillful hands

long strands or chokers

strategic placing of diamonds

where needed

sometime a sparkling featured

brilliant jeweled pendant 

always taking special care with the hardware

the finishing is the most important

must stand up to daily use

easy for right or left hands alike

then a final polish before bagging

when each piece is complete

💦

AL
 

keep building  

  
Mark Nepo tells us to, 

‘put down what doesn’t work – 

so that we can find what is sacred’. 
What worked so well yesterday, 

may not work today. 

We wear out our structures of known truth, 

the frameworks of what we use for living,

for healing. 

Let them go,

trust in the new architecture – 

modern, 

with our personal, classic twist. 

We are always becoming. 

Watch for the signs of structural failure, 

build the new bridge, 

delight in this magnificent design,

those amazing cranes hanging in mid-air,

strong, foundational columns,

the rusty, hard rebar of our personal growth,

rising from deep within the waters muddy bottom, 

creating the new skyline of your life, 

welcome this new place of crossing. 

It can handle rush hour,

or heavy foot-traffic. 

Continue the build, 

always creating with the future in mind,

before the old fully implodes underneath our feet. 

🏗
AL
 
  

 

now just relax 

  
 

yup!  

  

doxology and dreams in the dark   

 

 When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. 
– Job 30:26 


Smack dab in the middle of the fight 

While I waited for right 

my day turned to night 
I thought I was fine 

the good I would find 

then early one morning I found I was blind
I lay on the ground 

this dark hell I found 

fluttering wings the only sound 
I drank this dark brew 

no way out but through 

this darkness just grew and grew
Overtaking me, Helpless I turned 

My hope was all burned 

I could not choose what I thought I had earned 
I lay in Your hand 

in Your arc I did land 

trusting the truth I had already found 
Watching life pass 

going ever so fast 

oh how long will this dark, dark night last? 
In spite of the fear 

I am still here 

I give thanks even through tears 
I trust in Your plan 

My life is just sand

I am a follower and not a just fan
and if I should die 

The truth does not lie 

The sun will still be here when I say goodbye

I trust in the way

I open and say

Come open the door today
So light come and hold me 

Love come, grow boldly 

Till every bush, and bud, flames holy 

🌙

AL 

    
 

   

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