There is a huge difference
If you want to hurt someone
Or you are hurt by mistake
Without the intention to hurt
Then the mistake
Becomes violent
In response…
An escalation founded
On misunderstandings…
How much violence we see in the world
Based on misunderstandings?
DidiArtist, 11.10.2015
Cry me a fair-tale
A fable that’s true
If I place steel pails
Under your sails
Could you please
Rain on our arid ship
Fill all the buckets
And douse the fires
Cry me a storm
And fill our fragile souls
With watery glee
Cry me a river
And fill our hearts
With liquid joy
Ivor Steven (c) Jan 2020
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Windy 🌬 Wind, Blowing…
Breezy, Gliding, Easy…
Leaves 🍁 Teasing…
As the windy 🌬 winds keep blowing the leaves all around. They seem to be following me, chasing me circling me surrounding me.
It looks like a whirlwind? Shall we dance 💃 or should I just stand here, enjoying the moment.
A strong gust 💨 picks up…
Swirling, Twirling around my shoulders and towards my head, it is as though time stood still, as a leaf 🍁 comes in for the perfect landing onto my shoulder.
“Hello” Leaf, so beautifully colored. Your fashionably orange, looking very crisp and free with your Pointed-Clover Touch.
There is something unique, something very different about you.
Yonnie💜
InHisCare
2018/11/02
https://pixabay.com/photos/table-ashtray-smoking-people-men-2600788/
***
PAST MISTAKES
***
Bucket of ashes
Live life in the now — right now
Throw all ashes out
***
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When those who wield the power, stoop to conquer
And there are those whose conviction is their guiding light
When thoughts need a permit to express themselves
Then heart rebels with all its might
When those perceived weak have the strongest voice
And the powerful have blinkered sight
When people refuse to accept that grey exists
For black is not always black nor white is white
When the perceived right presumably is not always right
But uses might to suppress what’s right
When there seems no light at the end of the tunnel
And there’s no sign of a morn after the darkest night
Then the flickering hope that resides in the breast
Refuses the bait of cynicism to bite
In the scheme of things hope maybe laughed at
But it gives despondency a good fight
For it knows hubris will one day meet nemesis
Shattered pride will all be…
View original post 19 more words
Oh winds of change why must you blow
and come roaring in like a hurricane
blowing my comfortable life to and fro
left in your wake, everything’s changed
And yet, the unknown is always there
or so say the stoics of centuries past
for comfort is but an illusion we wear
and life is never meant to endure or last
So Blow, changing winds Blow, Blow, Blow!
And in the end my weathered soul soars free
to explore other cosmos never known
floating on a breeze with gossamer wings
©2019 Linda Lee Lyberg
— Mother Teresa
Why shouldn’t we, so generally addicted to the gigantic, at last have some small works of art, some short poems, short pieces of music, some intimate, low-voiced, and delicate things in our mostly huge and roaring, glaring world?
The blue skies don’t feel so blue
The daisies have lost their hue
The wise words don’t seem so true
Without you, without you
The green fields don’t feel so green
I’m staring at an empty screen
Everything’s lost in between
Without you, without you
The yellow sun is not the same
If I don’t get to call your name
Life becomes an endless game
Without you, without you
The black hole in my heart
Is consuming all the other parts
Slowly, surely, I am falling apart
Without you, without you
Without you, oh, without you
No colour seems to catch my view
I’m left with nothing good to do
Without you, without you
The Reluctant Poet 