Archive for May, 2010

my heart is filled with poetry

longing to be expressed

trapped emotions churn and swell

pounding against the floodgates

demanding to be released

turbulent feelings erupt

running rampant in my spirit

raging through my soul

a speeding locomotive

tearing across the tracks

acrid billowing black clouds

an ominous vortex of muse

whirling twisted emotions

spinning out onto paper

a bubbling crystal river

softly gliding by on wings

of silken iridescent butterfly’s

tender sensitivity painful

verses fly from the heart

into the writers quill

to the feather-tips inky

quiet renderings of gentleness

searching for expression

from a writers broken heart

entwining wild angry hurting

gentle sweet loving words

into poetic expression of  love


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The Crown

Fair is the bride of the King of creation

adorned in her garments of praise

Majestic her King over every nation

His power endures always

His bride He loves above all the earth

Her life secure is His hand is laid

He gave His all to prove her worth

His full price of pure life was paid

He relinquished His crown to win it back

Defeating death and it’s evil enclave

He shined His light when all was black

When all seemed lost the day was saved

His life for her He did not spare

His love for her beyond immense

He plundered glory for her to share

He waged a war above intense

He met His foe in the final duel

and laid him lower than the ground

He won His maiden Kingdoms to rule

and life to all who were found

on bended knee before their King.

Forever and ever until………eternity and beyond.


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distracted images clatter together

clawing their way to the top

clamoring for attention all at once

ideas fusing together as

searing pain pursues me

through this holiday weekend

I try to be creative, relentless

I want to be creative, ruthless

I can’t stay still, pursuing

I can’t concentrate, pounding

a poem starts, it stops, pain

I limp from here to there

a few lines of this on the back porch

a few lines of that in the kitchen

capturing joys occasion alludes me

delusion raises it’s pitchy voice

madness’s laughter ringing ears

another page in my notebook turns blue

as I try to start a new idea

sharp lances force their way

into my conscious again

striping the poetry away

heating pad on the bed

in the chair, at the desk

time and again as I try…

three am five am midnight

what time? Can’t sleep! What day?

surreal backdrop of eve and morn

sunrise, sunset mystically inverted

holiday, memorial day

tear in my eye, remember

all the dear ones who serve

who can’t be there

or who were lost to insure

our gift of enjoying

special family diners

valuable holiday treasures; while

still in a mental vacuum

having memorable moments

with mind numbing confusion

mixing pain and joy; nagging

annoying affliction inserting

itself into my muse blending

ideas into tapestries of

colorful infusion, confusion

capturing snippets for future adventures

once this insidious creature

releases it’s fierce grip on my sad ideas

and eases the blinding intensity

that invades reality

and threatens sanity

I sigh and succumb

to it’s heated demands

I can only write where I am

to get to where I am going

and do what I have always done

Write to survive!


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The Sidewalk

on this sidewalk i did walk

when i was very young

at dusk each evening when

the eerie branches rustled

i made the trip alone

mom would stand at the door

of our house this much

i knew to be the truth

but when you are six

and there are rustling styx

in makes your blood run cold

i restrained myself

from the fear!

i did not run

from the terror!

i kept my chin up instead

for You kept me

from coming undone

i kept my pace because

You held my hand

each step of the way

there and back again

and i knew for eternity

that You would

never forget me

only four houses and

two long lonely sidewalks

i made this familiar journey

to the church where

my mother sent me

i do not remember much

other than cookies and snacks

and that you always

went with me and

you still walk with me today

thank you ilu


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My Back Porch

sittin on my back porch

not doin much at all

writin down a few lines

watin for u to call

strummin on my guitar

I ain’t got far to go

and thats ok with me cause

I’m feelin pretty slow,

out here in this haven

I’m just lying low and

I’m glad it ain’t far to nowhere

cause nowhere’s where

I’ve got to go, so

I’m sittin on my back porch…….

ain’t doin nothin at all…..

just me and my dogs

on the back porch

waitin on a call.


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These two pictures are so cute that I just had to bring them out and post them on my blog. That and the fact that there is a story surrounding this tender moment. I just had to put this out. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes it only tells part of the story. This happened about 10 years ago. My how time does fly.

The three window units spewed out their chilly breath throughout the house with a constant hum as I made my way through the kitchen. The din of conversation competed with the droning machines for supremacy as I went looking for a breath of quiet. I had to get out for a moment, I did not care that it was scorching outside.  (sometimes crowds get to me)  I snaked my way to the back door and made my way out unimpeded. A wave of shimmering heat greeted me, and coiled itself around me like cellophane by the time I closed the door. I was alone with the humidity except for Emma and Ana who seemed unaffected by the heat. Youth!

What a beautiful picture I thought to myself and since I had my camera I headed their way. “Hi daddy,” my four year old Ana giggled as she and her little friend Emma danced around the back yard.

“Hey sweetie,” I replied,switching on my camera. “You two stand together and let me get a picture.”

“O.K,” perky three year old Emma quipped, as they both ran off screaming.

They landed at the swing set which was OK. “I’ll just take my picture here.” I thought as I captured the moment. They were not still long though, and in a flash they were squealing with glee down the slide. Ana was excited to be on the new swing set after waiting all week and it showed. All week was the operative word here. All week is long enough for some hearty wasps to get a good nest going…..underneath the slide! Alarm!

“Ana..Emma, come over here…..quickly,” I gasp, swiftly moving toward them as four angry wasps hovered above the slide gathering steam for the first attack.

“What daddy,” Ana ask, as I grabbed her and Emma’s hands, “Nothing honey, just come over here for a minute,” I replied, breathlessly reaching the back steps. I did not want to mention the wasps until we were clear.

I breathed a sigh of relief and was about to inform them of the crisis when….

“No Emma, don’t,” I said, but as hard headed as she is…..well, she headed for the swing-set anyway and I headed for her.

Like a gazelle she dashed across the yard, I on her heels. We reached our destination at the same moment and I scooped her up in my arms.

“Hey,” she exclaimed. Wriggling resistance in my grasp as I turned to shield her from the line of assault.

They launched their attack as I turned to get away. Wings buzzing they came at me with their steely tipped lances dripping with venom. Poised for the death blow they recklessly drove their poisonous darts into my arm and neck as I made my way to the steps, Emma in tow.

Slapping the last one away we made it into the house. Ana was calling for aide by the time I was checking Emma.

“Are you OK,” I ask anxiously, “did you get stung.” As I looked her over good, making sure none were on her. By then we had stirred a commotion. “Oh’s and Ah’s” accompanied approaching moms oozing concern, but the girls were OK,

Oh well. All is well that ends well and besides what are a few wasp stings anyway. No one ever said parenting was without risks.


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Fallen Star

I saw a falling Star

Early in the morning

It blazed against

Blue, black sky

Burning it’s hot trail

Right through my

Fragile heart

Into a glorious

Dazzling moment iridescent

Predawn hour lit

By the brightness

Of my distant Star

Like an ancient sun

Falling down

Diffusing glow fading

wounded heart

Like an ancient Son

falling down

Into the recesses

Of a patchwork heart.


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He is My Portion

He came to live

So that we might live.

Not die, alone and empty,

not to take our lives away!

But to give to us

our life’s renewal.

—So you ask?

How do I live?

For me, to be,

Is not to be.—-

My life is found

hidden is His heart.

I died long,hard ago.

I am nothing,

I have nothing,

He is my portion

and I am His putty.

What I have

Is what He wants me to have.

What He doesn’t

Is on the alter

Waiting on Him.

Though I suffer pain,

And afflictions buffet

from every side.

Though I fall and complain, still.

I get up. He carries me.

I turn, and turn again

and He carries me.

I humbly cling to Him and

He carries me every day

Of my life.

Open your hearts

And be filled to overflowing

With the Love of Our Father

Open your hands

And receive His gifts.

May He be your portion

In this life, and

Not the paltry things

Around you.

Give it away if you must,

To find Him.

Put others first self last

Give the biggest piece away.

Choose the smallest for self.

See Father in everyone

and love as He loved us.


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Rare Perfume In Cracked Bottles The Positive Side Of Chronic Pain

You may be doing a double take at that but please hear me out. I have quite a few friends who are disabled in varying degrees and from them I have learned many lessons. The best one is allowing my own disabilities to be turned into positive tools to help others. It seems that the more one of these folks is suffering the more they have to give. It’s a phenomena that does not make sense. Hurting people who in the midst of their most severe trials can offer such jewels of hope and encouragement to other people. I have found that reaching out to others in love does indeed make the burden easier to bear. When I am concerned about someone else then I am not so focused on my own struggles.

I know that there are a lot of folks out there who suffer with a lot of different aches and pains and that is a part of everyday life, but that is not what I am talking about here. What I am talking here is more than that. I am talking about people with chronic, debilitating conditions that affect every moment of every day and they know that it will never change. Still they don’t give up. They look up instead, and find the silver lining in the darkest cloud. Most of what these people go through is tough, let me tell ya, and there are days that just positively get them down and I know there are a fair share of tears shed along the way. Usually the majority of what they experience is experienced alone and they are often misunderstood by the people around them. They know about the night. The regular activities of life become thought out calculated moves that take more time and effort than for that of the average person. Things like getting dressed or putting ones shoes on is mostly forgotten after childhood but for those with the chronic pain brought on by disabilities this is not so.

The poor souls with walking disabilities are often the most forgotten because no one wants to see. In public every day we encounter them. At McDonald’s, cleaning your motel room, in construction, at the dry cleaners, you name it. If its hard, hot,long or dangerous then you can bet a person who should be disabled out of the system is having to work like a slave in it. Look next time you are out. Find the kindest, gentlest, sweetest loving souls and you will find the humble, broken, hurting people who have to struggle in some way just to make it. Some are broken so that they can’t even make it out at all anymore. You don’t see them either but they are there too. How do they make it? Yet still they give themselves away in love.

So I implore you to please open up and open out. Instead of looking away, look inside and become an advocate for the humble broken souls that make all of our lives shine a little brighter. Rub shoulders with the wounded (gently) and break bread with the humble. You well may be in the presence of the Royalty of future worlds. In them lies the rarest, most costly perfume that is in existence. So rare that the richest treasures on earth combined could not begin to be enough to pay it’s price.


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Ville du tiltre meg rom.

og sitte med meg en stund

jeg vil gjerne fortelle du en historie

om det ettall jeg elske

ettall hvem er så skjønn

hun er skatten av meg livet

det er bare ettall kvinne

det kan meg kone

jeg elske henne av hele mitt hjerte

og jeg vite jeg alltid ville

hun er God,s presangen å meg

og det alltid ville være

alltid og til………

Jeg vil elske du alltid



 Will you come into my room

and sit with me a while

I want to tell you a story

about the one I love

one who is so beautiful

she is the treasure of my life

there is only one woman

that can be my wife

I love her with all my heart

and I know I always will

she is God’s gift to me

and that will always be

forever and until……

I will love you forever


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