Day: October 16, 2020

I Am Water

~ thereluctantpoet

Don’t Miss This Beautiful Post From Linda!

Charmed Chaos

drop-of-water-1004250_1280.jpg

I

am water

I am a mountain stream flowing

fresh and cold, clear and bright smoothing

stone edges, into a mosaic of painted hues adorned

by moments of my heart breaking and learning the inner

truth of my purpose to write until my bony fingers ache, to love with

every thread of my tattered soul. I am water, I am woman, I am a poet,

a dreamer, magic abounding in the most unlikely of places, a stranger’s

smile, the bloom of a rose, the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.

Miracles, a painted dawn morning, a stormy sky

a dragonfly, a bird that sings, me.

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg

 

Author’s Note:This is a shape poem from 2018. 

 

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One breath – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ thereluctantpoet

flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw

I want to launch into the air a thousand words of love. Handwritten and in every font, (even the unpopular ones) lines and curves that will rise and carry us forward upon touch, and to accompany these words, send the sounds that bring us alive, like birdsong, a child’s laugh or footsteps echoing toward home. Release them as a million messages to freely be carried by the breezes that reach us all, to land on building tops and crosswalks, to fall in the teacups of the grieving, in the tangled hair of a skipping children, to settle on weary parkbench sleepers, cling to the yet delivered news traveling with the sunlight to the next continent, let the words land on the bare hands of the parched and weary like raindrops on the skin of those that need it most.

I pause here to take a breath and now realize you…

View original post 41 more words

One breath – Poem by Ali Grimshaw

~ thereluctantpoet

flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw

I want to launch into the air a thousand words of love. Handwritten and in every font, (even the unpopular ones) lines and curves that will rise and carry us forward upon touch, and to accompany these words, send the sounds that bring us alive, like birdsong, a child’s laugh or footsteps echoing toward home. Release them as a million messages to freely be carried by the breezes that reach us all, to land on building tops and crosswalks, to fall in the teacups of the grieving, in the tangled hair of a skipping children, to settle on weary parkbench sleepers, cling to the yet delivered news traveling with the sunlight to the next continent, let the words land on the bare hands of the parched and weary like raindrops on the skin of those that need it most.

I pause here to take a breath and now realize you…

View original post 41 more words

The Interlude

~ thereluctantpoet

Secret Thoughts Within

Original image found here

Living in the interlude,
I struggled to find peace,
distracted by what had been,
and desperate for what was to come.

I waited for life to begin again–
delayed in the interlude.

Time stood still.
An uninvited pause between movements,
with nothing remarkable
to show for myself.

Ticks of the metronome,
I felt dull,
restrained
and alone.

During this vacant stretch
before my next movement,
I wondered if I still had value
despite making no progress.

I waited for purpose–
silenced in the interlude.

Then,
I heard my heart beating,
that gentle drumming of rhythm
enough to keep time to.

My breath,
leaning on the keys of my soul,
created waves of deep resonance.

My fingers,
strummed on the frets
as my mind wrote in minor.

My voice,
humming soulful notes of hopeful dreams,
filled the space in between.

Holding onto patience,
I waited to play…

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Shrug off!

~ thereluctantpoet

WordSmithWithABrush

The streets will remember you,
If not the people…
The roads will stay wide open for you,
If not the mentalities…

Don’t shrug off your confidence,
For reasons timid and useless…
There are miles to go,
Before you let what others say can affect you…

Wear your courage shoes,
Embrace your confidence backpack,
Equip yourself with ‘I can’ shield,
No one deserves to see you cry…
Not even you…

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What If Snowflakes Don’t Fall In Winter – Coming out soon..

~ thereluctantpoet ~ 1 Comment

michnavs

At its truest form, love is a study in seasons.
 
Love is as much the huddle for warmth when the weather is cold, as it is the sweat on your back when it’s time for the sun. It is afternoon peace, when you welcome the night with its stars and its chill; but it is also bravery, when you’re given the promise of morning but can’t be given the promise of a gentle morning.

Coming out soon….

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A Found Book

~ thereluctantpoet ~ 1 Comment

Roth Poetry

Will someone ask in 2116

What’s this odd thing I found in a bin

Packed full of paper and covered with words

Who would save this… how absurd

Archaeologists say it looks like a book

Haven’t seen one of those / let me have a look

What a cumbersome stack of papers

Reading through that would give me the vapors

All this could be stored on the point of a pin

A chip so small and so very thin

They say there were buildings full of these things

They called them libraries and invited people in

They could check out books… it was quite the rage

Taking it home they read every page

If they took one out and didn’t bring it back

A fine was charged to remind them of that

Can’t imagine ever reading a book

Can you imagine how much time that took

*******

Photo from Robert’s…

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