Am I so childish to become angry when things do not go my way? Why do I sometimes become angry at the things that other people think and say? Has my spirit not aged enough through creul life events, friends and foes, Living through these things made me think I would grow I suppoose. Trying to look beyond my present discomfort for something more. Living regardless of our displeasure is how we endure. Finding joy in the midst of our sorrows, finding peace in the midst of a war.
the pleasure of touch skin on skin kissing lips on lips tongues dancing together kissing a baby’s fingers feeling that smooth downy shoulder against your cheek touching silk and satin between your fingers ice in your mouth on a hot summer day touch and feel life as you grow and know life’s simple pleasures
Nice imagery of life's simple pleasures. I don't know that you need the last several lines. I think "on a hot summer day" would make a good ending. Maybe title it "life's simple pleasures".
I definitely enjoyed the imagery and I don’t know about the ending. I think I feel the urge to keep the added perspective as that too is a simple pleasure. Reaching an age of appreciation for things is a relief and a pleasure.
Right now I like bending over a frame made from an old storm window and carpet tack strips monks cloth stretched over it drum tight
waiting for my life to change I start with black and make three curliqueued figures each with with one foot three toes around a mushroom red with white dimples some swirls of off reds there’s a full moon that’s yellow with a spattered halo the sky is going to be blue but I don’t have blue yarn but I do have assorted blue fabric strips dark and light and blue gray and speckled they’ll do and the sky goes in swirls and streaks a Van Gogh of fabric
I’m working from the back side need to turn it over every now and then to see what it really looks like and the back side of my life is the house my parents built every board and stone set in place with an artist’s eye and workingman’s hands and I can’t quite turn it over to see what’s taking shape before me
Wow Tad! That is very deep and what an interesting perspective. I kind of feel a whole twilight zone storyline building. Let’s flip your life over and see what the inside out looks like... incredibly deep.
Owls, in their owlish way give me pleasure every day, our home is the owls' nest, as with wisdom we are blest, living here in our snug home, Covid will not let us roam. Our nest gives pleasure every day, as within its walls we stay. Wisdom comes from focus here, where there's nothing we need fear; owlishly we are at rest in our snugly owl's nest. Owls here there are galore, And there may be even more When we can get out again without risking Covid's pain.
Am I so childish to become angry when things do not go my way?
ReplyDeleteWhy do I sometimes become angry at the things that other people think and say?
Has my spirit not aged enough through creul life events, friends and foes,
Living through these things made me think I would grow I suppoose.
Trying to look beyond my present discomfort for something more.
Living regardless of our displeasure is how we endure.
Finding joy in the midst of our sorrows, finding peace in the midst of a war.
nice take on the prompt, great reflective thought and poetry...
DeleteI agree with my sister Linda. Very reflective. It's great that you're writing, and I'm so happy to have you join us out here.
DeleteThank you for chiming in. I like your thoughtful lines and agree with the sentiment.
DeleteI felt the honesty. Finding joy in the midst of our sorrows is my favorite line sparking hope to move forward. Thank you for sharing.
Delete
ReplyDeletethe pleasure of touch
skin on skin
kissing
lips on lips
tongues dancing together
kissing
a baby’s fingers
feeling
that smooth downy shoulder
against your cheek
touching
silk and satin
between your fingers
ice in your mouth
on a hot summer day
touch and feel
life
as you grow
and know
life’s simple pleasures
Nice imagery of life's simple pleasures. I don't know that you need the last several lines. I think "on a hot summer day" would make a good ending. Maybe title it "life's simple pleasures".
DeleteGood imagery, I agree with Victoria's comment also.
DeleteI definitely enjoyed the imagery and I don’t know about the ending. I think I feel the urge to keep the added perspective as that too is a simple pleasure. Reaching an age of appreciation for things is a relief and a pleasure.
DeleteRUG HOOKING
ReplyDeleteRight now I like
bending over a frame
made from an old storm window
and carpet tack strips
monks cloth stretched over it
drum tight
waiting for my
life to change
I start with black and make
three curliqueued figures
each with with one foot three
toes
around a mushroom red with
white dimples some swirls
of off reds
there’s a full moon
that’s yellow
with a spattered halo
the sky is going to be
blue but I don’t have blue
yarn but I do have
assorted blue fabric strips
dark and light and blue gray
and speckled
they’ll do and the sky goes
in swirls and streaks
a Van Gogh of fabric
I’m working from the back side
need to turn it over every
now and then to see
what it really looks like
and the back side of my life
is the house my parents built
every board and stone set in place
with an artist’s eye and workingman’s hands
and I can’t quite turn it over
to see what’s taking shape before me
Wow! I love the way it turns. Powerful analogy. Do you really hook rugs? If so, pix somewhere?
DeleteI've posted some on FB, but I'll message you.
DeleteOh wow, you never cease to amaze e with your twists and turns. Superb.
DeleteWow Tad! That is very deep and what an interesting perspective. I kind of feel a whole twilight zone storyline building. Let’s flip your life over and see what the inside out looks like... incredibly deep.
DeleteEureka moment!
ReplyDeleteAll things have names,
even his two-year-old
self! Atlas
looks up when he's called.
His hand plunges
into my iced tea, pulls
out "Lemon!"
He repeats new words,
files them away
remembers all of them.
Tractor, truck,
car, knows the difference,
wants them all. "Now!"
Tractor his favorite.
Bug. Bird. Cow.
Horse. Puppy. Puppy!
Intangibles.
Red, yellow, blue, purple.
Circle. Square.
I watch for Will's car.
New words each each week.
Atlas released from seat,
sees me, runs,
arms up, shouts "Grandma!"
Aw, lucky you! Thanks for sharing your grand pleasure!
DeletePrecious moments!
DeleteSweet.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely loved it
ReplyDeleteOwlish Wisdom
ReplyDeleteOwls, in their owlish way
give me pleasure every day,
our home is the owls' nest,
as with wisdom we are blest,
living here in our snug home,
Covid will not let us roam.
Our nest gives pleasure every day,
as within its walls we stay.
Wisdom comes from focus here,
where there's nothing we need fear;
owlishly we are at rest
in our snugly owl's nest.
Owls here there are galore,
And there may be even more
When we can get out again
without risking Covid's pain.
Lovely metaphor. Did you know a group of owls is a "parliament of owls" My son Will and I were just talking about that today.
DeleteThanks and it's fun here in the owl's nest.
DeleteI love owls. I loved your poem.
ReplyDelete