![]() |
A Thousand Whys
I look into the Father's eyes
And wrestle with a thousand whys Why this? Why now? Why him, not I? The hurt, the rage, unbridled pain Erupting from my soul again. If that's the way it's going to be Then build Your Kingdom without me. But then, again, where could I go To hear a word of hope, and know The promise that beyond the pain The ballad has a glad refrain? But what for now? And how can one Still vocalize "Thy will be done"? And soon I hear a song begin, Celestrial, but from deep within, A new yet ancient melody Of joy and pain, disharmony. Or do the strains combine somehow, A lovely paradox of sound? **************** by David B. Biebel If God is so Good, Why do I hurt so bad? |
|
|
I'll Leave it Inside of Me
I look in the mirror
This is what I see A reflection A reflection of me I see not only me But the little girl Who lives inside of me She's not very old Her heart is made of glass Her eyes are red Because there are tears Her heart is breaking She's not sure what to do She wants to tell But she knows no one will understand Her parents Well, they used to care But they are no longer here They cannot therefore see What is happening to this little girl When people do show That they honestly care She does not accept it For fear of being hurt The little girl Who lives inside of me Is no longer seen There is only the adult me The adult me Is torn between What she wants to do And what she knows she has to do Conflict, chaos Wells up inside The past is a heavy load to carry Just want it to go away Feeling of shame and guilt Blaming self for events For situations I put myself in And situations that just happened I don't know If what I have written Makes sense to anyone but me There's another part Of this poem, you see It's a part that cannot be written For now, I'll leave it inside of me. |
|
Just words... I know they don't make sense.
I'm tired of you pain
please just go away you are making my life miserable each and every day I tried to make you my friend to see if you would ease but you make my life such he11 it's time for you to leave you started out as physical my body you set aflame Now it's so much more and I know you are to blame. My mind's messed up, my heart it aches. please just go, just disappear before you find more of me to break. Abbie 2008http://th17.photobucket.com/albums/b..._symbol_11.gif |
OUCH ON THE COUCH-TINA-
Why do you always grow so big and mean? When the weather changes to a winter scene And when the rain comes dripping down You multiply and without a sound. The breezes and wind must feed you well In them your dancing wildly feels like hell. So now you got me in your grip With electrical claws you tear and rip And fill my face with fire waves. How do you decide who becomes your slaves? My jaw it dances pogo to painful beat And my normal-ness sits back seat. And all the while no one can see The T.N. monster torturing me. You’ve taken half my smile away A half a smile is how ill stay Funny all this and you still Have not over taken my will One time soon you shall see Ill force you to leave me be. Then ill pass the answers along Ways to keep you where you belong. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = == = LOSE FACE -TINA- That nerve is severed for good, like a twig breaking meekly underfoot. Pain the wave tearing rips, Electrical lightening whips. All day that blanket snapped and swelled. You had to speak as if your lips would do anything to leave your face. If speaking was at all possible… Your lips would beg just that! Instead nerves sparked and twitched in a Static wave of crossed signals That turned viciously ferocious By the simplest things many Hold for granted! All day that blanket snapped and swelled, You had to speak as if your lips would do anything to leave your face. =============================== DOCS- TINA- Waiting in trepidation which docs will I see? Four are waiting, but just two for me. Will they be noble and kind? Will they have compassion and smarts? Be well trained, patient and gentle? Will they put me back on heavy meds? Or Rx. Me something new Will they take away the only Relief I ever knew? Will they get a hold of me poke my at face, tweak with my mouth put me back in a cage that I have to get out? Will they help my tremoring jaw? Gosh I can’t wait just hem and haw! I hope they power up a battery, And set me off sweet and free! I really do not want to go I hope they …I hope they know = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = - ELETRIC NIGHTMARE -TINA Powerful, profound Hidden from view Anesthesia dolorosa Neuro stimulator Trigeminal neuralgia, to cope, accept, deal Out of options for now My face, mouth, my teeth, my lip Present always, part of me A horrible monster to tame Inside, in charge, IS REAL Not understood, nerve snapped, not giving in. =================================== INSIDEOUT-Tina - Pain is hard to express, When invisible to all the rest. Looking “normal” in every regard, though my lip feels burnt and charred! Biting breeze, a clawed up mess, Wonder if there’s hanging flesh? I touch my face even though Electric jolts will shoot I know. Still I poke, test this pain. Searching for limits again and again, Twitching jaw I can’t stand. I hold it still with my hand, Praying the leads won’t further move… When my nerve is in a groove. Been on all the medication, Thank my guide for meditation Doctors are at wits end Thank my God for my friend’s The world doesn’t understand this much Thank ALMIGHTY for healing touch. I don’t think there IS a cure. I believe but I’m not sure, The answer is inside of me. To accept myself what must be, Learn to cope and how to react. When the monster begins to attack, And pass along, yes need to share. To hear that another dose care… To say you’re not alone, Living in the face pain zone. Invisible to most but not to “us” We have been thought some incredible stuff ------------------------------------------- All of the above poems are posted on the T.N.A. site for patients support in the art section :) And last is One of my Tag poems I play tag poetry :Heart::heartthrob: in the creative forum we have here.:heartthrob::circlelove:Love that forum:cool: ------------------------------------------------- M E D S -BMW- Hi ho hi ho To the doctors I go Pamalor, Depakote, Baclofen Tegregtol, Xanax, Doxepin Zanaflex,, Diazepam, Neurotin Methadon, Morphine,Pregabalin Morphin drip this time Meth. patch help? No sign! Cannot forget the one not prescribed. Few of the street drug tried , Some of the Cocaine, Yes and Mary Jane. Booze and caffeine, Cigarettes filling up with nicotine. A mask for the pain, to stop a fall, All the drugs that built a wall. When your body turns its back on you, At some point your mind dose too. I have a Neuro stimulator now, Mixes the signals somehow. Better then any drug or med I must say Med and drug free, I’ve gotten away, Five years now and still am today well cept :rolleyes: for cigs :( ----------------------------------------- |
|
Very nice Tina....thanks for sharing:)
|
lyrics
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8seht9Jo1HU
my reality ~ life goes on... Smile though your heart is aching Smile even though it’s breaking When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile and maybe tomorrow You’ll see the sun come shining through for you Light up your face with gladness Hide every trace of sadness Although a tear may be ever so near That’s the time you must keep on trying Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile That's the time you must keep on trying Smile, what's the use of crying? You'll find that life is still worthwhile If you just smile |
The Swing
The Swing
by Timothy Steele She shrieks as she sweeps past the earth And, rising, pumps for all she's worth; The chains she grips almost go slack; Then, seated skyward, she drops back. When swept high to the rear, she sees Below the park the harbor's quays, Cranes, rail tracks, transit sheds, and ranks Of broad, round, silver storage tanks. Her father lacks such speed and sight, Though, with a push, he launched her flight. Now, hands in pockets, he stands by And, for her safety, casts his eye Over the ground, examining The hollow underneath the swing Where, done with aerial assault, She'll scuff, in passing, to a halt. "The Swing" by Timothy Steele from Toward the Winter Solstice. © Swallow Press/Ohio |
remembering Dad
A couple poems I have written to/for my Dad ...ones kinda old from when I was a teen :rolleyes:. my Dad died from masive heart attack at home :( everyone called him chief cus he had 6 of us kids and he was half American Indian...
anyways Dad I miss you even thought I know your right next to me and inside me...I MISS YOU EVERYDAY! :hug: :hug: CHIEF HOUR PASSING ( DAD) 1979 T .M. B. Whatever you have seen along the way , Did you see it all again that day? Were you bound to the bed against your desire? Did GOD come to you and call you a liar? Were there any lights that were calm and cool? Did you reach the end and feel like a fool? Was there any chance of “ waking up “ again? Did you break from the heat unable to defend? Was it like you have been there before? Recognition so strong you couldn’t ignore? Did you go out on a granted wish? Or did you go out on a swinging fist? I watched you helplessly slip and slid Nothing but gaze as you went to another side If your pained now or not I cannot tell I just know it was some kind of hell! When I saw you so dark purple and blue, I knew I was to far late, nothing I could do. I stayed with you till the very suffocating end. I gave my tears ; but the rule would not bend. ----------------------------------- Chiefs alter (for Dad a.k.a. “chief”) My chronicle returns to chiefs alter, That is bolted to cement-covered starting line of foreshore. Rambling and saunter the stretches of beach between spaced accesses, Emerging onto the jetting bouldered destination, A small tribe gathers to mug up noshing the stash. Retracing as cool smooth sticky sand cradles my feet. Climbing back threw warm white powder, that squeals beneath me. The pack assembles to drench crystal ocean dust away. Now ashes have been mixed in this dirt and sand. Here songs are many, waves of far off times splash into my ears. Bringing you granddaughters you’ve yearned to know. The ocean churns up sparkled seashells at their feet, Breezes whisper soothing dreams into their souls A large tribe gathers to mug up. Along pointy rocks that poke the oceans side. |
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lULU_-L-v3U
"Superstar" - Luther Vandross :) My ex-husband came into town when my son was on leave recently. They spent a day together at my mother-in-law's house with the entire family. My son was playing around with his young nephew on the piano, so everyone gathered around. A few of them are extremely talented and accomplished musicians/singers, so my son was always too embarrassed to sing and play in front of them when he was growing up. :rolleyes: My ex-brother-in-law asked him to play a ballad. I attended a concert my ex-BIL gave last year - a tribute to Luther Vandross. He has an amazing voice. My son started to play this song on the piano, and the two of them stole the show. I spoke with my MIL (she's not an ex to me), and she said they had a wonderful time together. They were amazed at my son's talent - he's never had lessons. Naturally, they all claimed he got it from them. She said my ex-husband was strutting around like a proud peacock all day. :p |
|
consider the lilies of the field - poem
CONSIDER THE LILIES OF THE FIELD
by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) FLOWERS preach to us if we will hear:-- The rose saith in the dewy morn: I am most fair; Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn. The poppy saith amid the corn: Let but my scarlet head appear And I am held in scorn; Yet juice of subtle virtue lies Within my cup of curious dyes. The lilies say: Behold how we Preach without words of purity. The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read. But not alone the fairest flowers: The merest grass Along the roadside where we pass, Lichen and moss and sturdy weed, Tell of His love who sends the dew, The rain and sunshine too, To nourish one small seed. |
Her hair was up in a pony tail,
her favorite dress tied with a bow. Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go. But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone. But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say. What to tell her classmates of why he wasn't there today. But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone. And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home.. But the little girl went to school eager to tell them all. About a dad she never sees a dad who never calls. There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet. Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats One by one the teacher called a student from the class. To introd uce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed. At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare. Each of them was searching, a man who wasn't there. 'Where's her daddy at?' She heard a boy call out. 'She probably doesn't have one,' another student dared to shout. And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say, 'Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day.' The words did not offend her, as she smiled up at her Mom. And looked back at her teacher, who told her to go on. And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak. And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique. 'My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away. But I know he wishes he could be, since this is such a special day. And thoug h you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know. All abou t my daddy, and how much he loves me so. He loved to tell me stories he taught me to ride my bike. He surprised me with pink roses, and taught me to fly a kite. We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone. And though you cannot see him. I'm not standing here alone. 'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart I know because he told me, he'll forever be in my heart' With that, her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest. Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress. And from somewhere there in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears. Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years. For she stood up for the love of a man not in her life. Doing what was best for her, doing what was right. And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd. She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud. 'I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star. And if he could, he'd be here, but heaven's just too far. You see he is a Marine and died just this past year When a roadside bomb hit his convoy and taught Americans to fear. But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away.' And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day. And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise. A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes. Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside. Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side. 'I know you're with me Daddy,' to the silence she called out. And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt. Not one in th at room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed. But there on the desk beside her, was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose. And a child was blessed, if only for a moment, by the love of her shining star. And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far. -------------------------- anonymous- |
for us lovely older ladies
Women sit, or move to and fro--some old, some young;
The young are beautiful--but the old are more beautiful than the young. Walt Whitman __________ I'm staring in the mirror, Bemused at what I see; An older, calmer, woman Is looking back at me. She isn't wearing makeup; Her hair is turning grey; But how on earth this happened I really couldn't say. I used to be a seeker With sunshine in my hair; I'd dash along the corridors With little time to spare. Now, life is moving faster: As others pass me by, intent on being first in line, I sit and watch the sky. author unknown |
The story of my life. :rolleyes:
"Alone Again (Naturally)" - Gilbert O'Sullivan In a little while from now, If I'm not feeling any less sour I promised myself to treat myself And visit a nearby tower, And climbing to the top, Will throw myself off In an effort to make it clear to who Ever what it's like when your shattered Left standing in the lurch, at a church Where people 're saying, "My God that's tough, she stood him up! No point in us remaining. May as well go home." As I did on my own, Alone again, naturally To think that only yesterday, I was cheerful, bright and gay, Looking forward to, but who wouldn't do, The role I was about to play But as if to knock me down, Reality came around And without so much as a mere touch, Cut me into little pieces Leaving me to doubt, All about God and His mercy For if He really does exist Why did He desert me In my hour of need? I truly am indeed, Alone again, naturally It seems to me that There are more hearts Broken in the world That can't be mended Left unattended What do we do? What do we do? Now looking back over the years, And what ever else that appears I remember I cried when my father died Never wishing to have cried the tears And at sixty-five years old, My mother, God rest her soul, Couldn't understand, why the only man She had ever loved had been taken Leaving her to start with a heart So badly broken Despite encouragement from me No words were ever spoken And when she passed away I cried and cried all day Alone again, naturally |
For KathyM
|
The Rider
Naomi Shihab Nye A boy told me if he roller-skated fast enough his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him, the best reason I ever heard for trying to be a champion. What I wonder tonight pedaling hard down King William Street is if it translates to bicycles. A victory! To leave your loneliness panting behind you on some street corner while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas, pink petals that have never felt loneliness, no matter how slowly they fell. |
I have a friend in Finland who sent this to me. I tease her to watch out for my relatives - she'll be safe as long as she doesn't mention she knows me. I was a bit of a brat when I visited her country as a young teenager. I resented my mother trying to force her culture down my throat while we were there, as if she cared. :rolleyes: (LMAO - she did care!) :D
Anyway, I was arrogant in my taste in music and I preferred music with passion and soul - all the old Motown stuff, along with James Brown, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin. This made it even worse when my family tried to entertain me with their music. :eek: Oh well, I appreciate it now - looks like fun. :) It's a traditional Finnish folk dance called "Ellinoorat, Luokittelu." See if you can guess why an arrogant teenager from the U.S. would thumb her nose when this was called "soulful dancing." Ack, even now I can't resist the urge to say...."Got Milk?" (somebody smack me). :p http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1RYspUDlF4 |
SMACK!! :D I kept looking for Julie Andrews to appear! LOL..wrong country!
|
Fireworks
glimmering, shimmering
handfuls of light greening, careening through the dark night smiling child faces where wonder is framed colors and noises that never were named how to explain that shade of deep blue honors lost patriots in old fights and new that the red that's the reddest that they've ever seen is the color of faithfulness, love and esteem white is the bravery, acts large and small the debt of rememberance we owe to them all our mothers and brothers and all those who fell I honor your sacrifice. I remember it well. It's for my father...my grandfathers....my uncles...my greats. And for every man and woman who served, waited, worried. And for my mom. who did all three...over and over again. ( and I know it isn't great, but hey, it's late here. LOL) |
"Born in the USA"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIekamBDiAw When my son was still learning to walk and talk, I was at home with him cleaning up my home. This song came on the radio. My son picked up the nozzle of my vacuum cleaner and started jamming to this song - belting out "BORN INA OOOOOOOSA!" :D Years later when he was 16, I told a friend of mine at the roller rink about it. Our kids also skated there, so the next week he brought it in and had the DJ play the song. It took everyone by surprise because they usually only played R&B and hip-hop music. :eek: My son heard the song and immediately started hot-dogging on his skates. The rest of the crowd joined in and had a blast jamming to this song on roller skates. :D |
My ex-husband has three sisters. His middle sister tested me when she first met me. At my first get-together and meal with his family, she asked if I preferred dark meat over white. She had a wonderful sarcastic sense of humor. :p
His baby sister was my girl though - a few years younger than me and had the voice of an angel. Jennifer Hudson (Dreamgirls) reminds me of her. :hug: When I was planning my wedding, my husband said I was nuts for wanting to hold it in a church and public place - considering both sides of the family and the attitudes of some of our friends. We decided to hold the ceremony and party at our house instead and invited only those who knew how to get along. :rolleyes: I asked my little sister to sing for us - whatever she wanted to sing was fine with me. After the ceremony, I walked up to my sarcastic sister and whispered "You put her up to this didn't you?" :p This is what my little sister sang for us. :D http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gn4Kfvxczs0 |
|
Love's Old Sweet Song" -'
by Edna St. Vincent Millay Here are the lyrics to the song... Once in the dear, dead days beyond recall, When on the world the mists began to fall Out of the dreams that rose in happy throng, Low to our hearts love sang an old sweet song, And in the dusk where fell the firelight gleam, Softly it wove itself into our dream... Just a song at twilight, When the lights are low; And the flick'ring shadows, Softly come and go, Tho' the heart be weary, Sad the day and long, Still to us at twilight, Comes love's old song, Comes love's old sweet song. Even today we hear love's song of yore, Deep in our hearts it dwells for-ever-more, Footsteps may falter, weary grow the way, Still we can hear it at the close of day. So 'til the end when life's dim shadows fall, Love wil be found the sweetest song of all... |
Thank you Very much :) I have lots of poetry ... from e.e. cummings to Emily Dickinson but I have every word (I hope) Edna St. Vincent Millay every wrote and her life story. I love her work so much I carry some of it on tiny bits of paper folded in my wallet.
|
My favorite poems of all time...in no order.
First Fig
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends--- It gives a lovely light! SECOND FIG SAFE upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand! Edna St Vincent Millay |
Quote:
Thank you for introducing me to Edna St. Vincent Millay. I had never heard of her before. I have been doing a little research and I love what I have read so far. :) Abbie |
The Layers
by Stanley Kunitz I have walked through many lives, some of them my own, and I am not who I was, though some principle of being abides, from which I struggle not to stray. When I look behind, as I am compelled to look before I can gather strength to proceed on my journey, I see the milestones dwindling toward the horizon and the slow fires trailing from the abandoned camp-sites, over which scavenger angels wheel on heavy wings. Oh, I have made myself a tribe out of my true affections, and my tribe is scattered! How shall the heart be reconciled to its feast of losses? In a rising wind the manic dust of my friends, those who fell along the way, bitterly stings my face. Yet I turn, I turn, exulting somewhat, with my will intact to go wherever I need to go, and every stone on the road precious to me. In my darkest night, when the moon was covered and I roamed through wreckage, a nimbus-clouded voice directed me: "Live in the layers, not on the litter." Though I lack the art to decipher it, no doubt the next chapter in my book of transformations is already written. I am not done with my changes. |
Borrowed from DM....*grin
|
Remnants…
Remnants of you I find everywhere When I least expect to find them…they’re there. A whistle, a song, a picture I see… A smell…can bring back such strong memories. Remnants of you come sneaking through Unsuspected…the times and places we knew. An integral part of my life you have been, And I find you continue to creep back in. Though the end was not what I wished it would be, There have been such sweet times I can look back and see. Those remnants of you, like a patch work quilt Keep piecing together the life we had built. Now I have had to say goodbye… But forever, no matter how hard I try, The remnants of you will always appear… The bad I’ll let go…the sweet, I’ll hold dear. To Tim.... |
who am I? lyrical poetry
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name Would care to feel my hurt Who am I, that the Bright & Morning Star Would choose to light the way For my ever wandering heart Not because of who I´m But because of what You have done Not because of what I have done But because of who You´re I´m a flower quickly fading Here today & gone tomorrow A wave tossed in the ocean Vapor in the wind Still You hear me when I am calling Lord, You catch me when I am falling And You have told me who I´m I´m Yours, I´m Yours Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin Would look on me with love & watch me rise again Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea Would call out through the rain And calm the storm in me Not because of who I´m But because of what You have done Not because of what I have done But because of who You´re I´m a flower quickly fading Here today & gone tomorrow A wave tossed in the ocean Vapor in the wind Still You hear me when I am calling Lord, You catch me when I am falling And You have told me who I´m I´m Yours I´m Yours Whom shall I fear Whom shall I fear ´Cause I´m Yours I´m Yours Casting Crowns if you would like to hear this it is sung beautifully and is in my signature... :hug::hug::hug: |
Today is the anniversary of...
The last time I heard your voice The last time I looked into your eyes The last time I said "I love you" The last time I felt your arms around me The last time I saw you smile The last time I saw you cry The last time we had a chance to make it better The last time you could have asked for help Tomorrow is the anniversary of.... Your last and forever choice |
the inner soul
The Inner soul ~
copyrighted by tena the man of flesh to some perceive is all that we are or will ever be to see the soul you must remove the fraudulent veil of servitude for within the human heart there beats the sound for all in voice decree where do I belong where is my place for which I was born to openly embrace lost am I in a forest of questions wandering am I lost -for where do I feel belonging where is happiness to feel secure where was the love when I a boy was growing up I never felt bereft of yet now I shout in angry tone, why am left alone A boy when young a man doth stand cut to core a young man - cries dear God take control disheartened and whispering of hope for inner soul |
|
|
hope -emily dickinson
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
254 "Hope" is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me. Emily Dickinson |
What We Might Be, What We Are
by X. J. Kennedy If you were a scoop of vanilla And I were the cone where you sat, If you were a slowly pitched baseball And I were the swing of a bat, If you were a shiny new fishhook And I were a bucket of worms, If we were a pin and a pincushion, We might be on intimate terms. If you were a plate of spaghetti And I were your piping-hot sauce, We'd not even need to write letters To put our affection across, But you're just a piece of red ribbon In the beard of a Balinese goat And I'm a New Jersey mosquito. I guess we'll stay slightly remote. |
All times are GMT -5. The time now is 03:33 PM. |
Powered by vBulletin Copyright ©2000 - 2025, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
vBulletin Optimisation provided by
vB Optimise (Lite) -
vBulletin Mods & Addons Copyright © 2025 DragonByte Technologies Ltd.