Borrowed Time

Borrowed Time 3

I cannot lose the hope of breath tomorrow
While still another rhyme hides in the shade
Although I bide in time that may be borrowed
I’ll pen my dreams till dawn begins to fade

If I should lose the vision of the dawning
Yet still can feel the warmth of morning sun
Perhaps the vision found within the yawning
Will never leave the poetry undone

Michael33

In Morning’s Yawn

In Morning's Yawn

In Morning’s Yawn

He could not see the light beyond the moment
He could not feel the braille beneath his touch
The light down in the tunnel growing dim like twilight’s close
And fever from the rain was far too much
 
He reached for silver strings only finding tattered thread
Braided in a desperate search for truth
Standing in the vortex of a devastating storm
Raging through the shadows of his youth

He could not find his way beyond the moonlight
He could not blend the palette yon the dawn
But the moonlight always shined upon the hunger of the wolves
While his palette left its hues in morning’s yawn

Michael33

My deepest gratitude to all of those who have
honored themselves serving their country…
with special respect for those who have
left their hues “In Morning’s Yawn”…
Sadly… humans have not learned…
This is not the way to put an end to war.

Universal Soldier

 

 

Crossing Lines

crossing lines

Crossing Lines 

It’s certainly not that the rhyme is gone
I still feel poetry in the hues of dawn
But pain has a way of crossing lines
Where mind and body intertwine

Singing the lyrics of forgotten songs
Searching for melodies… right or wrong
Never graced parchment with brilliance of light
No matter the poet… no matter the plight

 

I suppose this is another one of those poems that speaks truth about the poet.  I must admit… I have not been able to post much as of late due to circumstances far beyond my control.  I am very thankful for those of you who have continued to support my attempts at poetry… even when factors enter that change much of the subject matter.

I have preferred to keep my Hope33 site (a journal of my journey through hell)… and this site as separate entities of one another, but if for some strange reason you would like to know what is going on in my life at this particular moment… you are welcome to visit “The Report” and subsequent posts if you dare to do so.  If you’d rather not…  believe me… I completely understand.  Either way… I am honored and humbled by all of you who continue to support this site and the blathering I often leave here to linger.

I will continue to post as often as I am able… and of course… I am very ‘hope’- full that all will work out as I imagine and I will be back on a more regular basis to torment you with my… perhaps… somewhat peculiar poetry.  In fact… there may be moments when I become even more inspired because of those very ‘circumstances beyond my control’.

Wishing you a most beautiful day

Michael33

A Curious Birth

A Curious Birth

A Curious Birth

When Christmas Eve had fallen down
And snow fell neath the bridge
Whispered words of new born kings
In echoes yon the ridge

Faces turned the other way
To pilgrims void of proof
While doors were closed and candles dimmed
For vagabonds of truth

Perhaps this story’s told with hope
Perhaps it’s merely fable
But candles glowed and starlight gleamed
Around that tiny stable

Twas the night before a curious birth
With snow upon the fir
While kings made way to bring the child
Their incense, gold and myrrh

It matters not what faith you bear
Like songs of Mourning Doves
If light we find in stories told
Can breathe the breath of love

When Christmas Eve had fallen down
And dawn had warmed the fleece
Whispered words with love’s embrace
Brought hope for mortal peace

A most beautiful holiday season to you all…

Michael33

The Fable

The Fable smoke 1

The Fable

He left them there
On her favorite table
Along with a note
A story
A fable

She sat on the sofa
Just watching TV
Sipped on her coffee
Her whiskey
Her tea

The flowers were wilting
In the old Mason jar
And time was not healing
The bruises
The scars

She closed all the curtains
To hide neath her skin
Not finding forgiveness
Without or
Within

She pulled up the blanket
To hide from the chill
Reached for the bottle
Her treasures
Her pills

Many will see her
Neath bright morning stars
Searching for credence
On sidewalks
In bars

Her story still echoes
In time after time
On faded brick walls
On parchment
In rhyme

Others will follow
Tis always the season
Searching for freedom
For stillness
For reason

The flowers have wilted
Her life just surreal
Reaching for something
To savor
To heal

The bottles lie empty
Her truth on the table
The note crumpled softly
Her story –
A fable

I realize that this is not the type of poetry one expects or wants to read during the holiday season… but the holidays are often the very time when those who are lonely… those who are troubled by life, by love, by sadness… are searching for hope.  Sometimes it takes nothing more than a meaningful hug… a call from a friend… a smile from a stranger to light a candle inside the darkness of another.  Please… reach out your hand to them whenever and wherever you can… they are everywhere… searching.  They may be standing very near to you in this very moment.  Let your light shine brightly for one who has lost their way.  Share your candle with another… you’ll be amazed how brightly the flame will glow.

Wishing you a most beautiful holiday season…

Michael33

The Conversation

Conversation 2

The Conversation

I could not be the hunter
For I could hear the voices
Of the rabbit and the deer
The cougar and the crow
In conversation

I traveled not beneath the sun
For I could find the vision
Neath the shadows of the moon
To fly on wings of owls
Into the night

I could not be the warrior
For I could feel the love
For all on earth
That was alive
To feed the hungry sparrow
For a song

I traveled not without the breeze
For I could only
Dance on clouds
With wind beneath my wings
To spread the seeds of hope
Upon this rock

I could not be the hunter –
For I could hear the
“Huddled masses
Yearning to breathe free”
Where hope of peace
Is found –
In conversation

Michael33

 

Being Human

Being Human 1

This post is not what you may expect from the Vision of Poets.  It is the first time I have posted the same writing on both of my sites.  Perhaps it is however… an example of the “Rhymes of Life”.  Some of you may be shocked by this post if you have never visited my Vision of Hope33 site.  I think you should read this.  It affects all of us in one form or another.  It may just touch your heart in a special way.  Please feel free to visit the ‘reality’ of “being human”… at

The Vision of Hope33

Thank you…

Michael33

 

Being Human

I just came from a WordPress site of someone who is facing the diagnosis of terminal/incurable cancer.  It was quite an emotional, heart felt expression of how it feels to live with such thoughts inside you.  In the comments below of what appeared to be this person’s first post, was a comment from someone who referred to themselves as “Pops”.  He indicated that he didn’t know what to do… that he had read the blog and understands… but was lost.  Isn’t that true of all of us who care deeply about someone having to face such finality?  We’re just lost.  What ‘can’ we do?  Everything we may think of to do for them seems so insignificant.  I think what most of us actually feel………… is helpless!  In this case, I not only feel helpless toward the person with cancer… I feel helpless toward Pops.  What can one say to him to help him feel better about his own emotions, his own response to the one he loves?

Inside that same post, the writer mentioned the fact that some of those around you cannot handle the situation and their way of dealing with it is to just disappear.  Wow… is that ever a true statement… and it might not be just friends that walk away… it might be family.

So… I’ve been on both sides of this conversation.  What’s the solution?  I’m not sure.  Here’s what I do know.  If we could engage in pure honest conversation about our emotions on both sides of the situation… the distance between us just might be a bit less if we were to truly understand one another’s feelings.  There are so many that are afraid to express those emotions to another… especially to one who is facing terminal illness.  Sometimes it is just so much easier to distance yourself from them.  I think that what the real problem may be is that those who distance themselves are afraid of causing the one suffering… any additional stress or negative emotions.  Perhaps they become distant to protect themselves from stress and negative emotions.  What at least some of them are failing to see is that those of us facing terminal illness just want to live as much of a normal life as we can… including the interactions of friends and family that we care about.  So just being who you are… who you’ve always been before the illness came to be… is what is most important.

Perhaps I could best express how I feel by saying this:  “Being human”… is not always easy.  Defining humanity includes compassion, kindness, understanding, tolerance, goodness and brotherly love.  Are these too difficult for some humans to deal with?  Loving someone should always be easy, but standing with them through the brume may prove to be far too difficult for some to bear.  Borrowing a couple of lines from “The Invitation” by Oriah Mountain Dreamer,  might best describe how I feel about the interactions between friends, family… and the one whom they care about facing the finality of death from illness.

“It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me
and not shrink back.”
 
Well… when you find out you have terminal cancer… the fire is lit.  If standing in that fire with me is something that you cannot do for whatever reason… then please… distance yourself from me.  You must do what is best for your own spirit.  I will understand.  I will still love you… but the truth is… there will be an emptiness within my life without you in it.

There are no real answers as to what one should do… how one should act toward someone that is special to them, who is face to face with terminal illness.  We’re all different.  The only thing I can do is to be myself and do whatever my heart and soul tell me to do.  That’s the only thing I would ever expect from anyone else toward me.  Just be you!  Love cannot be diminished by cancer.  True love, in whatever form it takes… is forever.  I guess, what I am trying to say… to “Pops”… and to anyone finding themselves in this ‘being human is not always easy’ position… the love you feel is most obvious… so what you can do that would help your loved one the very most… is to just be you… and never stop loving.

A most beautiful day to you all…

Namasté

Michael33

My most humble appreciation to the one who inspired this post… and to “Pops”.  Their most beautiful example of “Being Human” may be experienced at:

https://terminallydetermined.wordpress.com/2017/10/21/in-my-time-of-dying/