Tag Archives: share

The Oracle Solves A Creative’s Dilemic Conundrum: Revolutionary IMprov Free Verse Poem

Through life’s woods
I wandered.
Down a path
not-often trodden,
I stumbled,
soul-searching,
burdened,
sorrowing,
because of rejection,
because of loneliness.

In a still glen,
facing my feelings,
fearing,
confused,
I found her,
an oracle
in blue.

I asked honestly
for others perceptions
of me.

Pause.
Had I offended?
The oracle spoke:
“You view the world differently.
Creatives see things
creatively.
And thus, you are,
typically,
misunderstood.”

“What you as a creative see,
you view with variety
and clarity.”

“Some use a paintbrush,
some a pencil or pen
some use a sculptor’s tool,
some a potter’s wheel,
some a keyboard or strings.
Some see the world
through a wide angle
or a macro
or a telephoto lens.”

“But what you see,
you can capture
and share
with the world
who is blind,
or at least myopic
or farsighted
or mono-colored.”

“Because you do that,
we in the world who have ears,
may hear;
and having eyes,
may see.
And having minds,
may understand.
And having souls,
may feel
and grasp
and learn
and know.”

“That’s why creatives,
though you’re misunderstood,
though you’re criticized,
though you’re shunned,
by some,
must always exist.
That’s why
you must always persevere.”

“Because without you,
the world would miss
what we otherwise
might see
or hear
or feel
or experience
and understand.”

As she spoke
those words,
the truth,
I reeled
under the torrent
and weight
of responsibility.

At the same time,
I felt my burden lifted.
I felt my rejection taken.
I felt,
again,
fire in my veins
and joy
in my heart.

Though I’m often alone
on that solitary path,
I’m not lonely.

I now know
and accept
that it is okay
to see
and write
what others might not.
Even if I’m rejected,
by some,
others will see.

I’ll share,
not in a condescending way,
not in reprimand,
not in a “you must see that
this this way,
or you’re wrong”.

Not asking them to
“be better”,
because they are
as they are,
just
as I am
as I am.

Instead, I’ll give
my words,
my thoughts,
my feelings
in a kind,
loving,
sharing way.

I’ll say:
“Look at this thing
I see.
Look what I found!
Come share it with me.”

Just like she,
visionary oracle,
in her wisdom,
helped me see
the opportunity
and responsibility
I bear
as I live,
and share,
my life honestly,
with integrity,
creatively.

Our Lives Are Wrapped Up Again: Revolutionary IMproVerse Iambic Poem

Two grandchildren of good friends have childhood cancer. I am no longer the common link. I wrote this about that experience.
For more information on both, plese visit:
KissesforCami.com and
Beckhamsbattle.blogspot.com
and support however you can.

Our Lives Are Wrapped Up Again

My son’s best friend
is now a mother
who’s going where your child has been
And is.
You may think I’m not there.
You may think
That I don’t care.
But because I care as deeply as I do,
I have respected the silence from you.

I know you have duties and obligations to keep.
I know you have worries and thoughts which deprive you of sleep.
I know that in trying to help at your daughter’s home,
you have felt, sometimes, left alone.

But you’re not.

Prayers are constantly being uttered
for you as well as your granddaughter.
But now this silence I must end
to help The daughter of my friend
and the son of my son’s friend.

For in your daughter’s voyage beneath
There is experience
and wisdom and surviving grief
which may bring sense
And some relief
and insights
and make a dawn
out of the night
and the fears
that bring tears
to so many.
If I had that wisdom,
I would share it,
but I haven’t any
except to bare it
and to show another the way
to the experience
that your daughter and granddaughter have today.

And so, while I respect your pained silence
heartfelt, wide and deep,
please forgive me if I that same silence
can no longer keep.

A Study In Early Morning Pain: Romantic ImproVerse Haiku Laments

I’m starting to write in sets. As with yesterday’s collection, this morning group of haiku starts with the earliest first, spread over a couple of hours.

Sunday, Oct. 28, 4:17 a.m.
Response To A Late Text
I sleep early to/
ease my pain, so I’m sorry/
if I don’t answer.
———
4:19 a.m.
Am I Angry?
It was never an/
anger, just a hurt caused by/
the constant silence.
OR
I’m never angry,/
just feeling hurt again by/
your constant silence.
OR
I’m rarely angry./
I’m feeling confused again/
by distant silence.
——-

4:43 a.m.
Finally Getting An Oldie
There’s a song that says:/
“I haven’t got time for the/
pain.” Now I get it.
——————
4:49 a.m.
Full Moon Alone
Does she care what it’s/
like to see a full moon with/
no one to share it?
——–

5 a.m.
Gooey Realization
I just realized:/
The warm goo inside of you/
is not there from me.
———–

5:13 a.m.
How Warm Feelings Are Lost
I shouldn’t have told/
you that I felt warm goo, too./
Silence vanished it.
———–

I Won A Gold Medal: Revolutionary Iambic Poem

I won a gold medal in London
though I competed in no race.
I was simply having fun
eating curry in a crowded place.

I asked a family of three
if I could sit at their table.
They gladly made room for me
and so I ate when I was able.

But they, from Iran, were eager and willing
to talk to me of war,
of if our people saw them as chilling;
if we longed to even the score.

I spoke of what I’d heard from a hostage
kept at the embassy.
Of how he expressed no rage,
and spoke of their nation’s beauty;

Of the love of the people
of their warmth and kindness;
of how their government was evil
but their land was blessed.

And we laughed and talked about Texas
and the land spreading out so wide
for the Iranian daughter to visit
and saddle her yearning to ride.

I told them “Come to Wyoming!
Or Utah! Or Idaho!”
“There’s so much more to knowing
and so much more to show!”

We laughed and discussed heritage
and the way all people could be:
not filled with political rage,
but eating at the table of harmony.

So at a picnic table
on the banks of the dirty Thames
I won a gold medal for being able
to put away hate and become friends.

Will I give it up?
I do not care.
For with new friends to sup
is love I’ll gladly share.