The Collector

Small Gift Box on Pine

Image courtesy of sritangphoto / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I must admit that this poem was literally pulled out of me by an old yet new friend from my past (school) who has managed to reconnect with me in a big way, so thank you much MS COOPER!!! I also feel the need to attribute these words to another friend РYES, YOU CHRISTYB!  It is these two ladies that I in this case consider Р(((drumroll)) РFRIENDS. You have both supported me from day #1, and both of you still make yourselves a very present asset in helping me to clear my overly filled (with whatever at the time) brain Рvia encouragement, genuine friendliness, and authentic support.

I can only hope that these two gems receive some warm light in return for what that they continuously give out. ūüôā

The Collector

Her special box is hidden in her heart,

Filled with many colors,

Shapes, forms;

Collecting often, but –

Sometimes – not always the norm.

Before, they lay dormant…

Until the day came,

To awaken –

Those forsaken –

And forlorn…

With the sweet scent of friendliness,

And compassion true;

She acknowledges all forms,

Be it red, brown, or other hue.

The shapes never matter,

Because her love never ceases to refrain;

From spreading a scattered distribution

Of camaraderie over the lawn of  any species,

Holding the existence of pertinence –

To bliss and pain.

Keeping the old and bringing in

Those irregular –¬†even blue,

The bright colors uplift,

While dark  rich hues renew.

She sets newness neatly,

Lovingly,

In its designated spot;

Publicly, with all the others, discreetly.

She will savor joy,

Togetherness,

For a time, many pleasantries ;

Until back to that special hidden place,

Goes the collector’s paper leaves.

 

 

Aside

Or Else

Thinker thinks about how to take sun burst shot

Thinker thinks about how to take sun burst shot (Photo credit: davidyuweb)

All eyes fixate

On what lies before them;

All minds create opinions

Of what has been seen..

All brains collect

Data

According to what is produced;

The average, the mean…

From darkest brown

To Amber,

From cerulean blue

To emerald-green…

All eyes see¬†the same –

Every mind works alike,

But opinions often differ

In what has been seen…

Is it because

Of Freedom,

Or could it be

Functionality…

Could it be that both works

Work to produce

The mind’s own rationality…

When raindrops fall,

Do you see mere water,

Or are they

Transparent particles of life…

When you hear a love song,

Does ‘musical piece’ come to mind,

Or imaginings of a melodic overture

From a man dedicated to his wife…

Certainly, all eyes view

The beholden –

Beautiful, physical and natural wonders

Of any given site…

But it is solely

The beholder;

Mind, thoughts, freedom and functionality

Which defines actual sight…

All things creative –

Musical, poetic, colorful, rhythmic,

Seen, heard, and felt

Are remnants of a piece…

Of creativity –

Constructed, balanced and

Made;

The beholder’s

Freedom and functionality bringing you peace…

Our own functionality collects

What we see, hear and feel

In a creative world

Which naturally compels…

All eyes and minds – ears, and hearts

To receive creations freely,

Either the same way Рsometimes

Else…

In all

That we give,

And in all

That we create;

Complex reception

Of sights from the site

And peace from the pieces

Define true talent that all alike appreciate!

Aside

Private

There is a place where noone else can go except me

Unless I let one in, no other can be

This space is reserved for those who identify

With me when I laugh, when I shout, when I cry

Not many are invited, this place is private you see

I guess you could think of it as a symbolic VIP

Invitation only

Eliminates being lonely

Sign in and hang your coat

Main rule – don’t come to gloat

About what I have or what I don’t

Your visit will not go well, no it won’t

My bouncer is my soul and will throw you out

Our meeting is not about class, certainly not clout

I am willing to share with all walks of life

But non-mutual competition begets envy and strife

You are who you are just as I am – let it be

Should it be so easy to ruin your acquaintance with me?

I think not, just have some coffee, beer, even tea

Where it goes from here, who knows – we’ll see

Otherwise I can simply sit here by myself

Not contemplating on status or wealth

This is not what life should be geared towards

Rather happiness, satisfaction, and peace – moving forward

If you’d like to join me, you’re welcome to

When you arrive, let right be what you will do

Make the best of your day as well as mine

After all, what is better than spending quality time?

It has to be living as you are and not fretting the rest

Where is your private place? When you find it, don’t settle for less

 

Aside

Bad Blend

I scribbled this down one night while seething in anger. I am looking at it now and it is difficult to read my own handwriting when in that state, but I finally made out the words…here goes.

Bad Blend

My world is my mind,

My life lives in three hearts

My cubbyhole is a box

In which I shall not depart

Although I peek outside

Every now and then

My senses become numb

And can’t say ‘stop’ or ‘when’

Don’t do that again!

After the fire, there are no ashes,

The¬†‘calm’ disintegrates

I don’t see what I see…

Sad truths are instantly erased

But appeasement

Follows and soothing words sweep up like a broom

The reality of what went wrong

Keeps me from darkest darkness;  impending doom

Though not entranced by shiny objects – rings and things, they all glisten

From sticks to bricks – they all hurt

Except for when I don’t listen

Staying the course can be a many splendor thing

But if not careful, splinters pierce veins

This pain deeply stings

I forgive, but cannot forget

Forgetting is graciously God’s elected job

I am relieved to know that this truth is set

While I without fear violently rob

The thief that comes in

To steal, kill, and destroy

The circle of my love, washed in anxiety

Somehow I maintain naturally induced joy

The spigot of eternity awaits me through dogged faith

I shall remain bold

For fear of becoming lukewarm

As opposed to keeping myself hot and from turning cold

There is a river that flows continually from within

Please let it do what it does –

Undisturbed

To avoid creating new sin

 

This was a little weird for me…I’m still not sure what I was actually trying to express, but I do know that it came from deep inside a burning heart and a mind that was filled with anger and hope all in one mixed up package.

Thanks for reading.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aside

Home Lifestyles

Top Posts & Pages

%d bloggers like this: