life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “create”

for the love of all things poetry 💞  

 

 I fit words together, 
hoping they mean something.  

Wanting them to make sense. 

To myself. 

To others. 

Allowing them my raw emotion. 

Willing to give them up freely. 

Creating a monument, 

for this one moment in time, 

to share with the world. 

These words become something tangible. 

A thing, 

a gift, 

a piece of art. 

A part of me, 

stays with them. 

Little pieces of me live, 

like shapes in a puzzle, 

becoming 

a picture, 

a flower, 

a song. 

Small particles of my soul, 

like tiny rose buds,

opening in my hand, 

mesmerizes with it’s 

beauty, 

touch, 

fragrance. 

I write words on a page, 

and feel love 

spreading outward, 

as the flowering happens, 

as this thought blooms. 

As words become thoughts about… 

As the pieces become beautiful… 

As the poem is born, 

of water, 

blood, 

star dust 

and becomes… 

a small piece of my soul,

left behind on pages, 

for others to find, 

sharing a small moment, 

never to be lost, 

because it has been 

recorded, 

acknowledged, 

emptied. 

Gratitude makes room for new 

miracles, 

learning, 

beauty, 

as they find their new home 

ready, 

emptied, 

expectant. 

Waiting for more 

truth, 

goodness, 

love, 

to flow and enter in. 

There is always more, 

and more than enough. 

The heart that gives gathers, 

but never tries to hold anything hostage. 

Love, 

giving, 

pretty much everything, 

about life, 

only works when we allow it, 

all of it –

every sacred cow, 

every color on the wheel,

every tiny wildflower we see,

every spec of mud, 

to be free. 

AL

 

  

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

  

I am so much more than I ever thought I was – Sherri Yerkes (speaking from the heart) 

  

So several weeks ago now, Robin Ok called to connect on the upcoming Creative Collaborative Retreat 2015. 

http://www.creativecollaborativeretreats.com

I still remember her words, “I signed you up for some things that you can say ‘no’ to these if you want….

How exciting! My heart already was saying a great, big, fat ‘yes’ – before I even heard the list, which ended with a session on poetry! 

Oh joy!!! YES!!! Ideas poured in…

The retreat weekend came – 13-15 of this month and it was everything, and more, than expected! 

Beautiful, powerful, connecting, art-full, musical, spiritual, abundant, accepting, empowering – on-and-on I can, and will, go. I was overwhelmed with love and joy on many levels, but my greatest bit of on-going-bursting-out-all-over joy is from my poetry session. 

New words were framed, created, brought out of heart-hiding into beings of light, onto old inspiring paper and into the hearts reading and listening. We shared our poems at the end of the hour – no one left with dry hearts or eyes. 

Poems (words)  are living things. They touch us, heal us, bring us joy and create space inside us as we bring forward what was inside and allow new thoughts to be born, creativity always creates anew inside and outside of ourselves. We give to receive and in receiving we give back again. 

This magic has taken root in some great and powerful ways, I am so amazed at the beauty, the power, the courage, the immensity of these poets – new and seasoned veterans – all old souls. 

I am so grateful to have been able to share this session, which helped connect these amazing, gifted women with their inner, living, beautiful poetry. I believe poetry lives inside each of us. The need for beauty is essential for us to live, discovering, excavating that beauty is our life-long, ever-changing, most-challenging and surprising gift. 

Check out Barbara Endel’s new, amazing poetry blog –

https://poetintrainingblog.wordpress.com

🔥

This poem came to me yesterday…kinda summed it all up:

Our poems 

Are like the wart-hogs 

In the zoo 

It’s hard to say 

Why there should be such creatures 
But once our life gets into them 

As sometimes happens 

Our poems 

Turn into living things 

And there’s no arguing 

With living things 

They are 

The way they are 
Our poems 

May be rough 

Or delicate 

Little 

Or great 
But always 

They have inside them 

A confluence of cries 

And secret languages 
And always 

They are improvident 

And free 

They keep 

A kind of Sabbath 
They play 

On sooty fire escapes 

And window ledges 
They wander in and out 

Of jails and gardens 

They sparkle 

In the deep mines 

They sing 

In breaking waves 

And rock like wooden cradles. 

💞

Living Things by Anne Porter

   
  

 
Living in astonished and passionate gratitude for each of you. Thank you for allowing me to inspire you…thank you for inspiring me! 

  
 If you do nothing Nothing will be done. 

Sounds like we should know this, 

right? 

It’s just fascinating to me to see 

the result of a decision to create a newsletter dedicated to good news, 

then to commit to creating that publication for one full year. 

8 full years later, 

as I ended that project, 

to make way for new projects, 

there were over 135 issues 

on a website devoted to that good-news thing. 

4 years ago I decided to begin a daily poetry and quotes blog, 

I now have almost 2000 blog posts.

December 2012, I committed to a poem a day. 

11 months later, 

I had over 700 poems written. 

It’s crazy cool! 

And it has been a huge lesson to me, 

Dreams and Ideas are great, 

but only the commitment, focus 

and actually acting on the idea, 

will call it forth into the world. 

All those words, ideas and poems would still be inside me somewhere, 

if I had not said, yes, to DOING it. 

Nothing gets done without the work. 

Intention and action go together

in order to build the house, 

in order to change the world.

AL

create new pathways 

 

 
And here’s what made it happen…
They tell me –

Not to…

Don’t…

Forget the writer, 

leave her be,

Focus on some other things,

words need not be free
They say no need to share adventures..

Stuff the stories, 

hide your truths

Don’t capture the experience, it’s really of no use

They say 

other things need my attention, my energy,
For God’s sake, earn a wage –
I’ll tell you what that does for me –

…finally, finally…finally – 

sends me to the page
And all the walls and stops crash-tumble-trickle down
I sit furious-

typing – 

damn punctuation, tense, pronoun
Does it really matter if they she he we agree?

It’s time to tell my story – for once, for now – for ME

💜

 – Robin OK

   http://www.creativecollaborativeretreats.com

 

  
   

  

And then there comes a moment 

when all you have suffered 

all you have learned 

all you have lost and found 

rise up and become 

and suddenly you are 

here 

you are 

who you dreamed of being 

so many years ago 

suddenly you have arrived 

at what you caught glimpses of 

for so many years 

and the search, 

the free fall of broken dreams, 

broken hearts 

broken everything 

tumbling down rabbit holes 

stumbling over the feet 

of your own lack of knowledge 

is over 

you find yourself on solid ground 

stable 

steady 

raising your Ebenezer 

those tributes to God 

for all the mighty stones of help 

building this foundation on the solid rocks 

you know so well 

and though the pilgrimage may continue 

though the journey is definitely not over 

though life is fragile 

and security an illusion 

there is a new sureness to your step 

a trusting unshakable 

a calm in it all 

a new assurance of provision 

a new traveling song to be sung as you walk forward 

always forward 

always pilgrim ready for new adventures 

forgetting the names of what lay behind 

you press on to your calling 

the prize set before 

reveling in the mercies ever new

for each new day 

there is no stopping now 

you have found something 

which cannot ever be taken 

you have arrived here by your own determination 

reached a place 

both spiritual and physical 

a place of such magnitude 

the light shines from every angle 

it has sealed up the oldest sores

bound up the deepest wounds 

satisfied the deepest longings 

changed everything 

settled old scores with finality 

no longer will you settle for less than you deserve 

no more will you tolerate anything less than your best and highest offerings 

you must be all you can be 

gratitude fills you for this place 

a place so lovely 

it can bear up 

even under the weight 

of our hearts wildest desires 

with just this simple name 

it resounds inside our souls like a bell – 

home 

yes, beloved, 

you are home. 

right where you belong. 

❤️ 

AL

  

even on the hard days    

  Respectfully given,

exalted being

full of grace,

remember to forget:

surrender struggles to catch it’s breath,

then falls soft

as evening prayers at twilight,

gathering into the corners of our hearts

before falling full 

onto the center of our living circle,

 free and happy as a Friday night. 

next morning’s sun fills us, 

each day, each season. 

nurture moves with grace, 

evolving slowly thru 

our caring hands,

our grieving hearts,

our shared experience, 

our acts of courage,

the healing salt of our tears,

the energy generation of our joy. 

with pieces of our true love,

we fly flags, 

of prayer,

of peace,

of poems,

of our own making 

to heal the worlds – 

within us/

without us. 

we allow –

simply complex. 

we understand –

clearly unclear. 

we stand and fill our world with 

the beauty,

the mystery,

of sound,

of hum,

of laughter,

of voice,

of music,

protecting us 

from lesser gods,

the terror all around. 

love is the shield, 

love is the answer,

love is the choice,

love is our glory,

our salvation,

crowning us 

sons and daughters 

of the King. 

at times,

in spite of our broken pieces,

our refusal to believe,

even our darkened hearts. 

 –

astonishing, 

isn’t it?

AL

A sob in the night 

awakens us from dreams,
a crack opens in the wall

and in seeps the dark stream
with pieces of broken things in it,

and blood, and our own ragged edge,
and in seeps the light,

and the voice singing.
We want to pull the wall around us,

the sorrow pouring in,
but it is breached now,

it is only an illusion,
and we are out in the dangerous light,

the fragile street,
tender as everyone else,

ready to duck, ready to weep.
We are all refugees now,

foreigners, except to foreigners.
It’s the egg that is cracked,

the stone rolled away.
If there is a place for love,

for your own brave soul, this is it.
The cord in another’s heart

knotted in yours, 
the hand reaching for you

you can reach out to.
Terror and the stillness,

and the voice singing. 
__________________ 

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

   
   
and for each person in this world 🙏🏻

when you’re ready 

   
    
  
  
 

 Again I resume the long 
lesson: how small a thing 

can be pleasing, how little 

in this hard world it takes 

to satisfy the mind 

and bring it to its rest. 
With the ongoing havoc 

the woods this morning is 

almost unnaturally still. 

Through stalled air, unshadowed 

light, a few leaves fall 

of their own weight. 
                  The sky 

is gray. It begins in mist 

almost at the ground 

and rises forever. The trees 

rise in silence almost 

natural, but not quite, 

almost eternal, but 

not quite. 
        What more did I 

think I wanted? Here is 

what has always been. 

Here is what will always 

be. Even in me, 

the Maker of all this 

returns in rest, even 

to the slightest of His works, 

a yellow leaf slowly 

falling, and is pleased. 

💜

Sabbaths 1999, VII by  Wendell Berry
   

 The sky in my rearview 

is a huge bowl of rainbow sherbet 

the beautiful kind 

with raspberry, orange-n-lime 

swatches of lemon, indigo and periwinkle 

float like barges – 

in, out 

around. 

Framing. 

Dancing. 

Living. 

At one point tangerine fills the top of the hilly crest 

and head light stars 

blaze brilliant against the backdrop 

indigo stretched above framing the masterpiece. 

At times I find it hard to keep moving forward 

into the matte gray of the sky just ahead. 

so much loveliness is going on 

right behind me 

how can I keep heading away from it? 

How can I not be a part of this splendor? 

Eventually midnight blue seizes its moment of glory, 

then night falls over all 

and I am left 

aching with the beauty, 

the majesty, 

the extravagant display, 

of this wonderful world. 

I go to wondering 

if this longing for your kiss

will ever be answered? 

if my whole life I will wait 

for a moment which has already passed, 

never to be again under this piece of sky. 

always a whisper.  

The magic of love, 

a thing with wings 

hovering over my heart 

for years 

echoing on into eternity.  

💞

AL

do or do not

 

Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive and express what we really are. 

– Miguel Angel Ruiz

   Being present lets us experience each moment in our lives in a way that cannot be fully lived through memory or fantasy.

It can be easy for us to walk through the world and our lives without really being present. While dwelling on the past and living for the future are common pastimes, it is physically impossible to live anywhere but the present moment. We cannot step out our front door and take a left turn to May of last year, any more than we can take a right turn to December 2010. Nevertheless, we can easily miss the future we are waiting for as it becomes the now we are too busy to pay attention to. We then spend the rest of our time playing “catch up” to the moment that we just let pass by. During moments like these, it is important to remember that there is only Now. 

In order to feel more at home in the present moment, it is important to try to stay aware, open, and receptive. Being in the present moment requires our full attention so that we are fully awake to experience it. When we are fully present, our minds do not wander. We are focused on what is going on right now, rather than thinking about what just happened or worrying about what is going to happen next. Being present lets us experience each moment in our lives in a way that cannot be fully lived through memory or fantasy. 

When we begin to corral our attention into the present moment, it can be almost overwhelming to be here. There is a state of stillness that has to happen that can take some getting used to, and the mind chatter that so often gets us into our heads and out of the present moment doesn’t have as much to do. We may feel a lack of control because we aren’t busy planning our next move, assessing our current situation, or anticipating the future. Instead, being present requires that we be flexible, creative, attentive, and spontaneous. Each present moment is completely new, and nothing like it has happened or will ever happen again. As you move through your day, remember to stay present in each moment. In doing so, you will live your life without having to wait for the future or yearn for the past. Life happens to us when we happen to life in the Now. 

🔹

Daily Om

There is Only Now

Fresh and Unfixed

by Madisyn Taylor

   
THE SAFE PATH IS NOT ACTUALLY SAFE. Because what you might lose on the safe path is quite simply: everything. Everything that matters. Your individual essence, your treasure, your vitality, your purpose, your SELF. And that’s the most dangerous thing that can happen to you.

🔹

From Elizabeth Gilbert

🔹

photos found on facebook

let it out

  
  
They Feel Your Love 

Artist Shawna Erback

❤️

Curiosity, creativity, discovery and wonder; they aren’t traits of youth, they’re traits of learning. If you want to feel younger and you want to replicate the conditions of youth, do that.  

      – Unknown  
Listen to Bellamy Brothers sing Let Your Love Flow   

💞

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

you can do this

 

 truth pursues me
through the cracks in the sidewalk

refusing to die

or lie

or be denied

like a lazy 

hazy

crazy

day

truth 

sometimes

dances with the breeze

tickling my face with feathers

at other times

hurricane winds blow me down

sucker punching me in the gut

like an invisible boxer

intent on one thing

opening my eyes

expanding my humanity

never leaving me to my own devices

stretching my souls edges

challenging my comfort zones

while making me ever-more-comfortable in my own skin 

allowing me to step, by baby step, 

another inch or two into the mystery of grace

one day I know I’ll fit

into the sparkly shoes 

I’m here to fill…

don’t worry…

you will too

🔹

AL

  
  
   
   
 
Photos found at www.pinterest.com 

inward journey  

  

Courage is a word that tempts us to think outwardly, to run bravely against opposing fire, to do something under besieging circumstance, and perhaps, above all, to be seen to do it in public, to show courage; to be celebrated in story, rewarded with medals, given the accolade, but a look at its linguistic origins leads us in a more interior direction and toward its original template, the old Norman French, Coeur, or heart.

Courage is the measure of our heartfelt participation with life, with another, with a community, a work, a future. To be courageous, is not necessarily to go anywhere or do anything except to make conscious those things we already feel deeply and then to live through the unending vulnerabilities of those consequences. To be courageous is to seat our feelings deeply in the body and in the world: to live up to and into the necessities of relationships that often already exist, with things we find we already care deeply about: with a person, a future, a possibility in society, or with an unknown that begs us on and always has begged us on. Whether we stay or whether we go – to be courageous is to stay close to the way we are made.

– David Whyte

  

trees, in general; oaks, especially; 

burr oaks that survive fire, in particular; 

and the generosity of apples 
seeds, all of them: carrots like dust, 

winged maple, doubled beet, peach kernel; 

the inevitability of change 
frogsong in spring; cattle 

lowing on the farm across the hill; 

the melodies of sad old songs 
comfort of savory soup; 

sweet iced fruit; the aroma of yeast; 

a friend’s voice; hard work 
seasons; bedrock; lilacs; 

moonshadows under the ash grove; 

something breaking through 

🔹

 – Patricia Monaghan: Things to Believe In

tired… but trying…

   
photos found on facebook

 

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