You aren’t alone. If that’s what you’re afraid of you can lay that to rest. It is our pain which connects us and also what keeps us apart. Weird little math but I was never much g…
Brick, upon another brick…
Men, believe in his youth. Life is his to take. Young men believe life is now, just borrow and steal everything you can. Tomorrow may not come. He learn one day. Better to celebrate each new day with gusto. You shall pay for every sin done one day.
If you live long enough. You learn we are just bricks, upon another brick. Learning, falling, rising and seeking some sort of salvation. We will be many people and we shall act many parts. If we are lucky, with old age, we gained wisdom.
I am 63 years old. I was a soldier, I was a business man making money for big companies and a writer to some. I was a lover, I was a drinker, I was a hell-raiser, I was a father and now I am a grandfather.
Life goes so damn fast and I lost…
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California poetry- Write down your wishes and prayers…
Simple life need, just enough.
If we take more than we need,
we become, just thieves of useless items.
I found a simple place,
a ceremony done when the moon is full.
A box for wishes and prayers kept.
A kind stranger will perform a prayer for healing, forgiveness and loss of regret.
I believe prayers can create miracles and forgiveness.
A wise person is thankful for every new day and lived by the simple rules.
Take what you need, don’t be wasteful.
Lead with concern, kindness and love.
Listen, listen, listen and pay attention.
We will learn understanding if we hold silence.
I put my prayers into the box.
For peace for my world, for healing of the sick and our world to turn warmer and kinder.
Share a smile, speak a kind word. Pray every night. All children are safe.
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Come Read and listen to Elvis singing!!!
I want to fall in love with you…
Kind lady held my hands and her sweet and gentle words, her beautiful smile made me believe. Love could be, the greatest lullaby we can sing.
I told my dearest love, I want to fall in love with you again. I love your Winter pale skin, your always dancing bare feet and when we find the sea. Hold hands and celebrate the new day being born together. You taught me, love is eternal and forever.
She smiled and she laughed at my words. She whispered to me. Dearest Johnnie, my midnight poet. If your words are true, please write me a lullaby for the ages. A poem that the passing moon can whisper to the sun as they kiss each day. I wrote to paper.
“Delia, Delia, my beloved.
You are my morning breathe,
you are my evening kiss.
I need you…
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A Poem byCoyote Poetry
Can we become strangers to ourselves? Who do we see in the mirror now?
The half-drunk poet told the beloved night. I saw the veil of heaven and I have tasted death breathe. I am the son of the forest, the water and the sky. Now my shattered vision know only envy, hate and wrong deeds. In the dark tavern, the mirrored soul sing the oldest and saddest songs.
“Merry men shall go, merry men shall seek dangerous women, merry men will seek war and hell-bound dance. Merrily men will taste blood, death and turmoil. He will learn too late. He should of sought peace and calm, not war.”
He looked at the stranger’s face in the tavern’s mirror and he remembered a starry eye girl with a…
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Another time, another place…
The loneliness man at Fort Hood volunteered for missions in Central American.
He wanted to escape everything and he wanted to taste the Hemingway’s tropical paradise.
Once he sought death, now he wanted to be in the hands of new land, new songs and
maybe. Find a reason to be alive.
He was in Atlanta, one day early. Morning flight to Honduras and he had some free time.
He went to the strip bar near the Hotel. The beer was cold and the song was good.
The ladies were goddesses, dancing for desperate men. He watched the dancers, going from silky pantie and bra to bare skin.
He wrote in his journal.
“Perfume ladies, bare skin and fake smiles.
Loveliest ladies in Atlanta,
showing you the world and more.
Begging men, paying for a song,
left with less when the pretty lady escaped.
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Absence, the dictionary describes it as “the state of being of being away from a place or a person”,“an occasion or period of being away from a person”, “the nonexistent or lack of”; today I reflect on absence as a whole, the bittersweet moment of wanting to be and not being….
People at times fear solitude yet this leads to necessary moments of introspection; of absence from the conscious into the subconscious. Absence creates the necessary space for our shadow to come to light, giving us a chance to embrace it. Absence creates the perfect moment to unburden the soul, the mind, the body, helping us heal any and all impairments, if only we are willing to acknowledge absence during those bittersweet moments.
Sometimes I look at you with a bit of irony, for at times within your presence and the absence of that which…
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Captured and contained in this frame, are delicate petals, crowning thorny stems, set against a shadowy tree-laced sky. At first glance, I saw the natural beauty for what it is: magnificence. Eyes full of wonder, I startled a bird with my audible sigh. Despite my praising of nature’s perfection, shortsighted was my thinking, for the bigger picture, I almost missed.
More time to focus and take it all in; a new picture emerged: all of humanity contained in this frame. Like delicate petals, individuals, no matter how insecure or shy, need to be seen as they attempt to bloom, and they must be in balance with their environment if they are to thrive. To display their full natural beauty is how the egoless species survives. Like flowers, humans are a blend of fragile and strong and welcoming and defensive. Maybe inferior without our human minds, but flowers are connected to…
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My video poem, “Becoming You,” is dedicated to young adults just starting their adult journey. If that person is you, best wishes on your life path: may you become all that you aspire to be. ✨ Note: My list of what “you may become” is long, but not exhaustive. Well, maybe a bit exhaustive. 😅 Although my poem is not intended to be a list of every possible profession, I would like to acknowledge those working in the medical field and first responders: two professions not directly referenced in my poem but deserving of stand-alone recognition. 🙏🏻
Thank you for visiting and listening. Be well. 💗 Michele
Find more of my photos, micropoetry, and reels on Instagram ~ @mlsefton
© 2022 Michele Lee Sefton
Things aren’t always as bleak as they seem at first glance!!!
His oldest brother inherited the estate; their middle brother acquired the farm; but Marcus only got the old puss.
Sighing sadly, Marcus walked to the back of the store, nearly tripping over the creature. “Damn it, Tom!”
His life was shit. No family, no house, no money… just this part-time job. Not even a girlfriend.
A woman’s gasp startled Marcus out of his contemplations, and he spun around to see Tom rubbing himself against the legs of a mannequin… who had suddenly come to life.
This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: