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Posts Tagged ‘words’

Lost but found in a sea of rolling thunder
So dark
So light
 
In a space
between time
and space
 
Her ship sailed
blown by dirty earthworms breath
Governed by
Distress
 
Wrecked, torn
The ship no more
Landed on alien shore
 
She walked… fast
Leaving behind the broken mast
Fast
 
fisherman
 
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Copyrighted2005-Present.TrishaDunn.AllRightsReserved.Today I’m stuck in that time zone that no one likes to be in. It is the time between times where regret, loss, and yet hope and faith all fit in.

The what ifs, could be, did that, don’t do that all crowd into the same place and feel like a never-ending weed in the sidewalk that returns and returns.

You catch yourself looking at pictures, looking at other people who work in your field, you compare yourself to many, many mirrors in the hallway that all have a different reflection. And although each reflection was a satisfying image, at that time, today it appears incomplete.

Today is a day where two hands are not better than one. One will do the job, and the other keeps tempting, turning, and covering.

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Eyes crossing, blur in my words.

Lucky to have had typing class.

Can meditation become typing with eyes closed, or would Buddha differ?

Dog is snoring, husband is emotionally drained.

Does he not realize we all are out of emotion?

Parents are lovely when they still put you down as a grown adult.

Yet, in their eyes, words are just words.

Yet, to this author, words are a sword, a bullet, and brain all in one.

Nightime sinks into me fast; bartenders must have all the luck?

A mother I am, a mother is to me. Does that matter?

I think sometimes more or equally.

I hear so many, “I wish(es)…” about what was or should have been.

Yet, if ye got what ye wished for ye would still wish.

A waterfall is beautesque. Spell check says “wrong!”

Beautesque could be pretty and beast in one.

Life giving, life taking, and ignored yet free for all to see, drink from or leave.

A city hums like a well working bee hive.

Amazed at the need for no car, imagining the money one could save.

If so many are living the city life, what is this poor economy?

Or, is it a way for Washington to obtain a paycheck raise?

This poem is going awkward, but let it bee.

Maybe this is not poetry, but we are the poetry and life writes us. Line by line.

Letter by letter we are born one by one, 25 of us on replay. Making us not so unique; all the same just different too.

Will Smith turned 7 Pounds from a Pursuit of Happiness yet one movie had less than 7 dollars as and issue and the other movie had happiness being sought after in connection.

Another famous person looked of jungle in the asphalt, the marrying a millionare was move-quality, trying to make Sense Out of Life while Monkey Business pre-premiered.

Eons, decade,  skin color, genitalia and technology apart, yet these two actors had it figured out and wanted to create, write, act, display and show the world what it’s all about.

No, no fantasy, no 3d blue smurfs, just plain ‘ol effort and art on display; inter-connected through something some say, “there ARE NO mistakes.”

I gave respect; I got none back. I tried, tried again; still nothing. One decade, I spoke to Jesus personally and my life literally thrived from end-to-end; I was a shining example of reward. Then, the basement crumbled and everything slowly fell away with it into a dark black hole of pain and emptiness that haunts, leaves for a while, and becomes a stepping stone for some to use to cause me more pain. As one commenter said, “life sucks.” Yes, I agree. One book read that the character thought she was on earth living in her own personal hell. If Jesus can redeem, then where was he when….       the list is long. But also, where was Gandi, Buddha, Moses, Abraham, The Trinity, Mar

y, Allah and the rest of the clan? Are they at Java Dreams?

I can see my rambling is going nowhere. However, maybe it has touched some soul out there waiting for the words to be said so he or she could stop thinking it. Well then, it’s posted. It is said.

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