In the dream I am in a wedding and right before I am to walk down the aisle someone gives me face wash which I apply liberally and then cannot remove. At first I look like a pasty whitish-gray ghos…
“Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned. ” -Buddha
Rethink Your Definition of Forgiveness
You might think that forgiveness is about the following:
- Condoning what the other person did.
- Giving in.
- Turning the other cheek.
- Pretending that nothing happened or that it really wasn’t such a big deal.
- Admitting that your anger isn’t justified or that you’re not entitled to it.
- Forcing yourself to get along with someone who you feel may hurt you again.
If so, then you’re probably going to be very reluctant to forgive. And with good reason. Instead, try changing your definition of forgiveness to the following:
- Forgiveness is about freeing up and putting to better use the energy that is being consumed by holding on to grudges, harbouring resentments, and nursing old wounds.
- Forgiveness is about moving…
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It cannot be trained, only nurtured
Wished for but never arrive
It’s ephemerality in-built, never to be lost only butchered
You heard Sinatra sing, born for it!
Mr Cohen’s lyrical poetry couldn’t be any other way!
Bukowski or Knut, will show you what it’s all about!
Their’s to piss-away!
What do you do when you wake up and you have nothing?
There’s one genius per hundred year, if that…
There’s ten new artists worth listening to spread across a decade.
And nobody writes a damn thing worth staring at!
Yet you must move, interact, but why?
You will only fail
Fall far from puking heights
If I do not have it
I shall jump, with or without a parachute
into a volcano and die like I gave a fuck!
True freedom my friend is dancing with the wind. Singing song till the morning light.
Knowing open highways and not being controlled by money and possessions.
I want the sea, the mountains and to taste freedom.
I have lost my way. Yesterday I put my feet than body into Lake Huron.
I realized I forgot who I was.
Today I’m locked-up and caged. I accepted the rules of profiteers and cold hearten people.
I must learn for the sake of my children. Can’t laid dead for liars and naysayers.
Ride to better places an thoughts my friend, to the open and free roads. Open locked door and swim in the deep sea and stand with grandchildren on cliffs watching the Hawks and eagles fly.
We are prisoners by poor decision.
Just ride with unknown destination. Find secret and quiet places. Touch the coldness of the water.
Embrace the trees…
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My wild Texas rose…
Kind mistress night brought her to me. The Austin, Texas bars brought people from all places together.
When the moon took over the night sky. People from different places fell into one hope.
Dance, laughter, drink and to enjoy the mystery of the night.
I went into a tavern/dance club and I saw three pretty ladies dancing together to the song of Bob Seger “Turn the page” on the dance floor . I drank my drink and I enjoyed the view. All of sudden. A beautiful strawberry blond hair girl asked me. Can you dance or are you waiting for the booze to kick in and to forget who you are? I held silence and I answered slowly. I’m just wasting time and trying to find reasons and purpose to be alive.
The Texas July heat had kicked in. Summer dresses and beautiful woman were everywhere…
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A Poem byCoyote Poetry
Thank you John Dryden for your poetry. Gave me reasons to write today.
(For John Dryden)
True Poets dodge the fakeness of fame.
They allow praise to fall from their thoughts.
Old Poets understand the beauty of the sun rising from the east.
Allowing opportunity for new dreams and new places to come alive.
They enjoy watching the sun falling into the western sea.
Allowing the night to overcome the excitement of the day.
A wise Poet behold the beauty of the woman.
Tried to describe the softness of her skin and the feel
of her warm sweet kisses.
The Poet must feel the burden of war.
A writer must taste and know death, poverty and suffering.
A empty journey leave nothing for the pen and the paper.
Writers are neither revolutionist nor a martyr.
Great Poets left us…
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Nothing left to lose…
I lay in the silence of deadening silence. All dreams dead and buried when you left me alone. You were my savior and my killer. I remember the first kisses, drinking and smoking cigars. We laughed at life and tomorrow was just another day to be lived.
I remember you stripped down to bare skin and danced upon the October Pacific sea shore. I knew the Gods of the sea and I was blessed to watch you dance.
I knew you were the November breeze. Just touched our skin and disappear to unknown places, leaving old men with wishes and songs to be sang.
I sit alone on the Seaside beach. I write words and sing lonely song. Me and the sea cry and wish to see your beautiful face and your perfect nude body dancing for us. Life had took it toll. Old men wish…
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Life, a living sculptor
Engraves seconds in the heart
Sometimes scars remain
Mirror a rainbow
Of beautiful hours
Lost in presence
Like sand running
Leaving hands empty
That once was alive, vibrating
While time marches on
Modulating the image
We cannot decipher yet
Our own image
With wind, sunshine and rain
Smoothing, polishing it
But when life has chiselled
The inner stone
As art of life
It turns into something beautiful:
A living diamond
Pulsating in the heart
In the light of love
Spreading sent of humanity
Rising like a phoenix
From the ashes
As a treasure of life
Born from hardship
A new-born human being…
Welcome back to another WDYS prompt
- You can write a post on your blog and create a pingback to link to the original post.
- Write an original story, poem or a caption.
- There is no limit to words or format but keep it family-friendly.
- If you post a response before next Sunday, I will be able to add it to my roundup post.
- I will do a round-up next Sunday before the next Prompt is posted.
- It is always helpful if you can give your post/story/poem a title.
- Paste a link of your post in the comments section so that I don’t miss anyone in the roundup post.
Please tag your responses with
Does this picture inspire you to write something?
For the visually challenged reader, this image shows a couple dining. The man has a glass of wine in…
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