life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “words”

a poem a day  

 

All poems are not equal
Just like grades of meat

and paper towels,

there are poems that are tough to chew on, stringy even

then there poems that melt into your mouth and soul, like velvety cream

some poems are flavored to perfection

and lots of poems with no salt

There are sturdy poems which mop up the spills of your heart

and thin poems, flimsy, ones that fall apart when you try to use them

There are poems that move and feel good in your hands

and poems that make your skin crawl when you read them. 

No, all poems are not equal –

sometimes I wonder 

why I like this thing called ‘poetry’ at all. 

At other times I know exactly 

why I have fallen so passionately

in love. 

❤️

AL

Listen to Stephen Burt at TEDx on Why We Need poetry http://www.ted.com/talks/stephen_burt_why_people_need_poetry

   
    
    
Listen to John Denver sing Poems, Prayers and Promises http://youtu.be/M6PEsa36SRY ❤️

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

   
 

❤️

for you…

 

 

interesting conversations (grade: C-)

  
HAMLET: To be, or not to be–that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep–

No more–and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to. ‘Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep–

To sleep–perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There’s the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely

The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death,

The undiscovered country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprise of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action. — Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia! — Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered.

🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀

Read more at http://www.monologuearchive.com/s/shakespeare_001.html#q445B8QYR85jGYt2.99

 

 I think of difficult days
Days I struggle to stay alive

To keep my head above water

To put one foot in front of the other

To stay hydrated in the middle of my water works
I think of days of joy

When everything sparkles

When I say hello to the bright-eyed me in the mirror

When I am so glad I’m alive

So connected to the whole
I think about the moods of nature

The sunny days

The gray days

Days of angry storms

or gentle raindrops

Days of extreme
Just like me

Extreme weather

caused by my energy

the energy around me 

environmental and

relational factors
personal forecast

Todays weather calls for

Sunny outlook

with occasional clouds

a few showers through out the day

wine at sunset

moon full tonight  

with a dream or two of your kisses

 still warm on my lips

floating through

Waking to a great day tomorrow 

until I see you again

  😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

AL

  
Listen to Amos Lee sing Soul Suckers http://youtu.be/zqidM_U9rgU

☔️☀️☔️☀️☔️☀️

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

   
  

wonder unshackles us from the binding constraints of what we deem as possible, and it tickles us alive with the possibility of the impossible.   – Craig D. Lounsbrough 

 The biggest lesson I’ve learned so far is, “It’s okay.” It’s okay for me to be kind to myself. It’s okay to be wrong. It’s okay to get mad. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to move on. 

    — Hayley Williams  

😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃

http://www.aholyexperience.com/2015/05/when-truth-feels-like-burlapswhen-truth-feels-like-burlap/

   

  
 

  Listen to Amos Lee sing There I Go Again http://youtu.be/J0BXckR_-4c

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

  
photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

 

bullfrogs and writing poems

  There are no creatures you cannot love.
A frog calling at God

From the moon-filled ditch

As you stand on the country road in the June night.

The sound is enough to make the stars weep

With happiness.

In the morning the landscape green

Is lifted off the ground by the scent of grass.

The day is carried across its hours

Without any effort by the shining insects

That are living their secret lives.

The space between the prairie horizons

Makes us ache with its beauty.

Cottonwood leaves click in an ancient tongue

To the farthest cold dark in the universe.

The cottonwood also talks to you

Of breeze and speckled sunlight.

You are at home in these

great empty places

along with red-wing blackbirds and sloughs.

You are comfortable in this spot

so full of grace and being

that it sparkles like jewels

spilled on water. 

🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸

From a Country Overlooked by Tom Hennen

 

 Some days the words flow
all day

pouring

smooth and beautiful

words dancing

in streams 

like fish in a pond

jumping in the sun

while bullfrogs 

talk –

their amazing 

deep bass voices

croaking conversations 

vibrating through the air

and grasshoppers 

scrape their legs 

like bows on violin strings

in that cool raspy sound

free form jazz

only they can make. 

these are sounds 

that define summer

for all of us 

southern girls and boys

who grew up in the country

where our entertainment 

was driving through town 

waving to each other

playing country music 

or Lynyrd Skynyrd

loud 

on truck radios

while coke-a-cola

and kick-a-boo joy juice

keeps us cool 

as we hold hands

and sneak kisses

yes, some days

words flow like a 

hot summer night

in the south

and some days

all the words fly north

and I am bare naked bones

searching 

bereft 

trying to light 

wild fires in wet fields

trees with bare branches 

scrape the grey sky

nothing is beautiful

no birds sing

the flow 

is frozen 

in time

I sit 

like a Bronte novel heroine

in my moldy wedding dress

alone

in silence

waiting

for my lover

to return to me

AL 🐸

 

 Listen to Ella & Louis sing Summetime http://youtu.be/lnXLVTi_m_M
🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸🐸

photo sources found at www.pinterest.com

 

what are you looking for? 

When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us. There are people who see only dullness in the world and that is because their eyes have already been dulled. So much depends on how we look at things. The quality of our looking determines what we come to see.     – John O’Donohue

 
  

  

   

  

  

 

  

Listen to Jason Mraz sing I’m Yours http://youtu.be/wIFh9hYongk

quote photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513 

promise keeper

 to make a promise…

Make a place of prayer, no fuss,
just lean into the white brilliance 
and say what you needed to say
all along, nothing too much, words
as simple and as yours and as heard
as the bird song above your head
or the river running gently beside you,
let your words join to the world 
the way stone nestles on stone
the way the water simply leaves 
and goes to the sea,
the way your promise 
breathes and belongs 
with every other promise 
the world has ever made. 

Now, leave them to go on, 
let your words alone 
to carry their own life,
without you, let the promise 
go with the river. 
Have faith. Walk away.



TO MAKE A PROMISE by David Whyte

 

So easy to miss the moment.
Just this.
This inhale. . . . this exhale. . . .
This dawn of dark clouds streaked with light.
This smile, this ache, this laughter, these tears. . . 
As we slip into the water of this week unfolding before us.
             ~ Oriah

  

Listen to Gavin McGraw sing Follow Through http://youtu.be/dr2o8Ir30Zc

🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿🚣🏿

photo sources found at http://www.pinterest.com/al513

I am a poet

  It has taken a while to embrace the poet.

The desire having been born much later in life,
to write poetry,
to bring to life, with words,
what I see, feel, moments of sanguinity.

I have never doubted the words I have written
because they were written in truth, my truth.
But I did doubt the title.
Poet.
What? These lines? Poetry?

There was too much significance behind the title.
A poet.
Wordsworth, Shelley, Dickinson, Frost, Walt Whitman…
Oh my. The idea left me breathless.
What was I playing at?

But then, the answer was blindingly simple.
Take away the significance.

Aren’t poems moments of grace, of revelation?

Humming to a birdsong,
delighting at the sight of valleys and mountains,
closing our eyes in ecstasy at the sweetness of a fruit
or the texture of bark under our fingertips…
Aren’t these the poetic murmurings of one’s heart?

While some of us choose to put it all on paper,
others choose to carry it all within their hearts.
Well then, underneath the cloak of conventionality,
aren’t we all poetic?
Aren’t we all poets?

👤👤👤👤👤👤👤👤

I am a poet by Rama Desai

https://ramaink.wordpress.com/author/ramaink/
👤👤👤👤👤👤👤👤

 

   

  Listen to Lake Street Dive sing We Love All the Same Songs http://youtu.be/9sNbyjfgccc
photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/513

buzzing

 If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that joy is not a constant state, but a low grade buzz that sometimes roars and other times purrs, but that it is always available to sink down into, if I’m feeling the ache that makes for tears or the ache that makes for celebration. – Jen Lemen
🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

Jen Lemen says my poetry-prompt word of the day – buzz
as she reads my blog and responds. 

I love Jen Lemen over at ‘Hopeful World’ 
http://hopefulworld.org
I missed my word as I read it the first time, 
not mindful of today’s word, 
because I was still stuck in yesterday’s word ‘vine’. 
Then there it is, with a Lemen-y flair…
  
My heart leaps to attention 
I fly right there to find it 
Copy the sentence…
Smile
yes, ‘joy is a low grade buzz’
along with 
peace
love
harmony
they all live under the same everyday rooftop
once you understand them 
allow them in 
they are your friends
constant companions
making life balanced
glorious 
stable
the foundation made of jewels
gold
strong rock 
like granite 
storms come and go
the buzz stays 
and becomes the music we dance to
🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝
ACL 11/14/13
  
  

Listen to The Muppets sing Ode to Joy

http://youtu.be/VnT7pT6zCcA
🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

a few months ago I was Jen Lemen’s apple cake angel 😇 https://lifeacousticandamplified.wordpress.com/?s=apple+cake&submit=Search

 photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513

What haunts us are not the dead, but the gaps left within us by the secrets of others.    – Maria Torok & Nicholas Abraham 

 

sometimes. 
I don’t know what to say. 
sometimes. 
The very words catch behind
safe guards of emotion. 
sometimes. 
Speech refuses to commence. 
sometimes. 
Words pool behind the locked door. Waiting. 
sometimes. 
I lay and pray the words you don’t want to hear will dissolve inside me. 
sometimes.  
Silence fills the outside air. 
sometimes. 
Inside air is thick and muggy,
like the rain forest 
or Savannah in August. 
sometimes. 
I go to sleep with heavy lungs,
weight of the unspoken hanging like the world between us. 
sometimes. 

ACL 6/19/13

      

Listen to Sara Bareilles sing Brave http://youtu.be/QUQsqBqxoR4 

🙊🙉🙈🙊🙉🙈🙊🙉🙈🙊🙉🙈🐵

Photo sources found at www.pinterest.com/al513 

spaces for re-defining more 

  

 
 

   

 

New beginnings. Springtime joy. Spaces opening. Baggage shedding. Words healing. 

 The future’s so bright…

http://youtu.be/gRh4-czxbT0

😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎😎

photo sources found at 

www.pinterest.com/al513

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