Bench/Bitch-Marks & Soap Bubbles

Seeing the bench marking your ass

from sitting down and getting

soap-bubble-1940492_1920

goals done –

for someone else,

it wore, but didn’t hurt.

 

Don’t stress about those bench, or bitch-marks,

because that won’t help your dreams hitch.

 

Pitch your dream to God, the Universe,

it’ll get tossed back to you.

Maybe not how you imagined,

but bigger than that.

A rolling shimmery ball,

like those iridescent soap bubbles you blew with the wind

way back when.

Now,

it’s so big and radiant,

You can’t put your arms around it,

or break it.

 

It’s yours –

to transform,

to follow,

to share.

Attention, My Pet

Focused seemingly with a laser point stare,

Attention seems fixated, aware.

Then you sparkle and shine with a smile.

Attention’s thoughts chase your words,

scampering, bounding,

pouncing!

Suddenly, Attention sees a flicker nearby.

What is it?!

A new idea, endeavor, creation to nudge,

knead and trounce.

 

Yes, Attention has moved on for now,

But as she pads away swiftly, do know

she’ll be back to purr you to her side.

Grudge Stone

It’s been many years,

hand-1838345_1280and it kept getting bigger,

and heavier,

that grudge,

that stone,

that grudge stone.

It feels like it won’t

budge,

that grudge stone.

Till one day,

you decide to rid

yourself of it.

So, you manage to budge

that grudge-

stone.

Do you judge your

grudge

stone,

or

toss into

a

river

Or,

do you hurl

it,
s h a t t e r i n g

that glass house you live in?

What happened when you budged

that grudge, that stone,

that grudge stone?

 

 

 

Temporary Guests

 

Hello,table-blogpic

Melancholy,

and Sadness.

Oh, wait, maybe Depression?

No, the first two

don’t get to hang out long

enough to become the third guest.

I see you moping behind my gray matter,

peeking a curious glance at my soul.

Hoping to stay for longer than a cup of tea,

coffee,

or glass of wine.

 

You want to be acknowledged. I don’t mind.

Embraced and even accepted, that’s fine, too.

 

But, oh, you dark sexy Melancholy and sweet Sadness,

you don’t get to feast with me for weeks, or

eat out of my fridge.

You don’t get to dance to drumbeats in my head every other day,

or fuck me over again.

This time around,

you are temporary guests.

I’ve already given you my best.

Leave it at the Door

Are we getting comfy with our ego’s   –

Outrage?

Blaming?

Sadness?

Angst?

Shaming?

 

If so, I invite you to come in and get uncomfortable with me in –

Quietude.

shoes-piled

Forgiveness.

Listening.

Sharing.

Learning.

Acceptance.

It’s not too late to relate, act and collaborate.

But,

let’s leave our egos and shoes at the door.