Windows is shutting down, and grammar are
On their last leg. So what am we to do?
A letter of complaint go just so far,
Proving the only one in step are you.
Better, perhaps, to simply let it goes.
A sentence have to be screwed pretty bad
Before they gets to where you doesnt knows
The meaning what it must be meant to had.
The meteor have hit. Extinction spread,
But evolution do not stop for that.
A mutant languages rise from the dead
And all them rules is suddenly old hat.
Too bad for we, us what has had so long
The best seat from the only game in town.
But there it am, and whom can say its wrong?
Those are the break. Windows is shutting down.
Windows is Shutting Down by Clive James
My name is Tara and I’m 55 years old Precious Moments angel statue I would not classify myself as a hoarder, more of a rescuer of Target receipts When I first moved in it was just mostly boxes because I was moving in then I tried to unpack but everything just got put wherever Martha Stewart magazines I just started asking God that I would like to know what it would be like to have an organized sea of stuffed frogs A bed looks like a bed with picnic baskets And your table doesn’t have stuff on it it’s a painting of a cornucopia And the couch you can sit on it people can sit on it like American girl dolls Well I’ve finally come to the realization I have too much Praise Hymn compact discs I told God that I just have this one wish and this one dream that Lord you just send someone to help Jesus Christ Hearts Me Florida license plate holder My mother, she had a one-bedroom Nativity set We all ended up sleeping in the same crumbling Family Circus comic strip I didn’t know how a house was supposed to be tangle of mismatched electronic cords I haven’t been in the closet in five years because Victorian dolls I realized I have to let some things go because how am I ever going to get out of this mayhem and foolishness if I don’t Walking in Wisdom Embracing Love 2005 calendar You have to be willing to do the work McDonald’s minions Happy Meal toys You have to be able to let it go uncashed paycheck from 2008 If you don’t, it will swallow you flattened American flag balloon My brain is not wired for this 18-year old pile of unopened mail I’m trying to recover from a migraine marching penguin with Santa hat I’ll do that tomorrow but then tomorrow something else happens candy cane stuck to the floor Whoa, that’s my vertigo lint roller covered in lint I don’t want to deal with cordless phones coated in dust I need to breathe nearly natural poinsettias I’m hoping and praying for a miracle unused Trisha Yearwood tickets from 1999 I always felt like if Jesus came to the door and opened the door I would have felt so shamed because I wasn’t showing gratefulness and pink Jesus Christ “Enjoy” baseball cap in Coca Cola font Those are mine, I keep those Bed Bath and Beyond crystal Kleenex holders I didn’t realize there was so much dust Easter bunny I have done the Lord’s work humbly Thomas Kinkaide puzzle of Cinderella castle Yes and with tears
Hoarders: Tara by Kate Durbin
I drive down Copperleaf Lane
looking at those copper leaves
falling from the poplar trees
(well, to tell the truth,
I’m not sure they’re poplars
but that fits well with my poem…
it’s called poetic license)
I see why the street is named thus, though
it is a copper way
on a copper day
Must have been named in fall
because other seasons the leaves were all
not living up to their name
rule breaking in their seasons
shades of green to green
I love nature
reveals so much about how we could live
one slow beautiful movement within them all
in each one precious moment in our time of time
paying no mind to the rules, we find
words, and trees, always finding their rhyme
Amy Lloyd (AL)
there’s this whisper promise
in the breeze,
a bit of ethereal fog slipping between the sheets
and dawn breaking.
there’s this rumor running
afoot in this new born day,
a sideways glance of something –
Oh it’s JOY!
and all this glory burning hot.
there’s this holy hushing
songs of angels,
a chorus of bluebells
as they watch it all approaching.
there’s this first blush of light,
a bit like the bitter and sweet
mixed each day with our longing
for joy to come nest.
there’s a song playing on low
sometimes you forget to remember
be still and know
as sure as spring follows winter
love always wins
listen to your heartbeat
joy is our birthright
morning has come
Amy Lloyd (AL)
It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That’s why we wake
and look out — no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
At times, our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us.
You have to go through the falling down in order to learn to walk. It helps to know that you can survive it. That’s an education in itself.
– Carol Burnett
So many religions and philosophies, ancient and modern, set forth paths to happiness, fulfillment and the end of suffering. Many of these paths are filled with great wisdom and deep spiritual insights that have helped countless people throughout the ages. I have been inspired by so many of these spiritual traditions; and I have learned so many hard lessons though my own inner struggles and challenges, as we all have. Consistent with so many of the spiritual traditions, I have found that one of the keys to happiness and finding a deep spiritual connection is cultivating a spiritual humility — reaching beyond our egos as best we can by quieting our minds with a bit of wisdom, by opening our hearts to a bit of unconditional loving-kindness, and by expressing a bit of gratitude for the light and wonder that has been given and that touches us even in the dark times.
1. WISDOM AND THE INTERDEPENDENCE OF ALL EXISTENCE. We — and all of life — are interconnected in a vast and boundless divine tapestry. Our belief that we have a separate, “fixed” self is a delusion that cuts us off from the flow of life and the interdependence of all things. We are nothing but a wondrous part of a larger, interwoven whole. To see all this, even a little, leaves us humble, but also touches us with a deep wisdom that we are connected at our core to something so much greater than we can imagine.
2. THE INNER SPIRIT. As a part of that greater whole, we are truly children of God, at one with the divine essence. Yet, when we come into this world at birth, we put on a limited and fragile ego mask that we wear throughout our lives, believing that the mask is our real self and forgetting our true, inner spirit that is a part of the greater divine radiance. So, we struggle to keep this mask-self safe, closing our eyes to the flow of the divine presence through our lives. Seeing all of this, even a little, we begin to see the futility and childishness of so many of our self-important dramas; and, with the resulting humility, we begin to let go of the ego games and begin instead to focus humbly and joyously on our connection to others and to the greater divine reality.
3. JUDGE NOT. Looking with an open heart at the cosmos, we may begin to see, even if dimly, the presence of a boundless divine power that supports all of existence, guiding the planets in their orbits, causing the flowers to grow, holding all of the law of physics in the palm of a hand, and supporting our very existence. But, when we grasp after our ego-mask self, and forget our own inner spirit and its connection to the greater divine presence, we begin to make judgments, limiting and defining God, ourselves and each other. We think that we know better — indeed, we think we “know” what is really going on — but the mystery and wonder of existence is beyond any knowing. We do not know, for instance, the truth of another person and where he or she is on the spiritual path. Indeed, we do not even know who we are ourselves. How, then, can we presume to judge others and where they stand in God’s plan? How can we truly judge ourselves? And, even more importantly, how can we judge God, the ineffable foundation of all existence and non-existence? Seeing all this, even a little, we can only begin to humbly let go of our limited, ego-based judgments and open our minds and hearts to a gentle faith in the divine, in ourselves, and in each other.
4. SPIRITUAL PRACTICE. So, how do we come to see all of the above and cultivate a joyous spiritual humility? Each must find their own way. For me, it come from a gentle spiritual practice:
(a) First, I try to be mindful of the interconnection of all life, as well as of the impermanence and transience of my own ego-mask self. Then, with a little inner quiet and stillness, I try to watch for the presence of ineffable wonder; I listen for the quiet whispers of my own inner spirit; and I open my heart to the rumblings and reflections of the presence of a boundless God beyond all knowing or grasping.
(b) Next, each day I try to practice a little kindness and unconditional love, as best I can and with as much wisdom as I can muster, quietly shining some light in the darkness on myself and those around me. We all can open a window in our hearts to the divine and let the divine presence shine through us, as if through a glass darkly — but we can polish that glass each day to let in more and more light.
(c) I judge God, myself and others so much. So, I practice not judging by being mindful of how much I do judge, and examining how much of that judgment comes from my own arrogance or insecurity. I then think about the the mystery and power of the divine presence — and the preciousness and miracle of all life, including my own — and stop for a moment and acknowledge, as best I can, that the divine presence is boundless in ways I cannot begin to fathom or judge.
(d) Finally, I try to find reasons to be grateful: for the presence of wonder, wisdom and light, even in the darkness; for the preciousness of my own life and that of others; and for the blessings, sometimes hidden, that grace my life. There are so many opportunities to express that gratitude to those around me through words and deeds; and to God in my prayers and in the songs of my heart. Finally, I try to express gratitude to myself in the words I use in speaking to myself. We all can begin to appreciate more our own inner, luminous spirits. Humility in the face of the overwhelming wonder of the universe may cause us to begin letting go of our ego games, but it also opens our vision up to the magnificence of the cosmos and to the luminous wonder of our place in it.
Simple Inner Truth by Steven Jay
there is wonder
in the shape of things
magnificence in patterns
grace in the traced template
or a the very least,
mind boggling excellence
there is magic in a great shape
simply exquisite how I love things so much
my imagination immediately begins to conjure up favorite selections:
cotton candy clouds reorganizing in mid air
ferns unfolding into majestic fans for kingly trees
leaves dancing to grounded drum beats
random pieces of nature shaped into hearts
thick glass 6 oz icy coke bottle being pulled from the clanging machine
cupcakes with perfect frosting being deconstructed one finger swipe at a time
the outline of a baby cheek sleeping on the shoulder of the young man in front of you
Rama Desai’s sunshiny-yellow house, complete with porch chalk dragons
the most perfect button I’ve ever seen on a belly…
the fingers of my imagination slowly touching each one
lingering on you
my mind takes me into other worlds
cinema of beautiful shapes
wealth of living awareness
well beyond limits
riches of the mystic
always ready when I push play
stories to be shared
each continuing at their own pace
Amy Lloyd (AL)
check out Rama’s blog at:
comes to the table in her rumpled apron
stained with a hundred juices.
“What will it be this morning?”
“Let’s start with some mist
in one of those green valleys,
and a cup of black loam with
a single tree frog.
Then fallen apples over easy
with extra worms,
a side of scattered leaves
in a caramelized sunbeam.”
“That comes with Summer’s last
abandoned bird’s nest salad.
Or soup of the day, fern bog
with skunk cabbage and blue
“I’ll take the soup,
a half carafe of Autumn rain,
and a cruller the shape
of a groundhog’s hole.”
She remembers your order by heart.
Old ones keep coming back to this place.
They bring grandchildren.
She knows what you love.
There’s a line to get in.
Sometimes it seems
we have to wait a year,
but its worth it.
Alfred K LaMotte
Packed in my mind lie all the clothes
Which outward nature wears,
And in its fashion’s hourly change
It all things else repairs.
In vain I look for change abroad,
And can no difference find,
Till some new ray of peace uncalled
Illumes my inmost mind.
What is it gilds the trees and clouds,
And paints the heavens so gay,
But yonder fast-abiding light
With its unchanging ray?
Lo, when the sun streams through the wood,
Upon a winter’s morn,
Where’er his silent beams intrude
The murky night is gone.
How could the patient pine have known
The morning breeze would come,
Or humble flowers anticipate
The insect’s noonday hum,—
Till the new light with morning cheer
From far streamed through the aisles,
And nimbly told the forest trees
For many stretching miles?
I’ve heard within my inmost soul
Such cheerful morning news,
In the horizon of my mind
Have seen such orient hues,
As in the twilight of the dawn,
When the first birds awake,
Are heard within some silent wood,
Where they the small twigs break,
Or in the eastern skies are seen,
Before the sun appears,
The harbingers of summer heats
Which from afar he bears.
The Inward Morning
Henry David Thoreau
Every night before I go to sleep
I say out loud
Three things that I’m grateful for,
All the significant, insignificant
Extraordinary, ordinary stuff of my life.
It’s a small practice and humble,
And yet, I find I sleep better
Holding what lightens and softens my life
Ever so briefly at the end of the day.
Sunlight, and blueberries,
Good dogs and wool socks,
A fine rain,
A good friend,
Fresh basil and wild phlox,
My father’s good health,
My daughter’s new job,
The song that always makes me cry,
Always at the same part,
No matter how many times I hear it.
Decent coffee at the airport,
And your quiet breathing,
The stories you told me,
The frost patterns on the windows,
English horns and banjos,
Wood Thrush and June bugs,
The smooth glassy calm of the morning pond,
An old coat,
A new poem,
My library card,
And that my car keeps running
Despite all the miles.
And after three things,
More often than not,
I get on a roll and I just keep on going,
I keep naming and listing,
Until I lie grinning,
Blankets pulled up to my chin,
Awash with wonder
At the sweetness of it all.
BY CARRIE NEWCOMER
these two pictures are from Robin OK’s morning from Michigan. The rest are from my morning walk in Branford, CT with Phoebe Snow Good Times!
and from my friend, Bill…this day just keeps giving…
with occasional clouds floating through
a few showers always possible
through out the day
daisies sure to peek out of the green grass
just to smile for me
wine and laughter at sunset
full of you
with a sweet dream or two
and more than a few songs
sure to drift through me
into my sleeping hours
Waking to a great new day of promise tomorrow
Amy Lloyd (AL)
where the desert becomes the sea,
when you arrive your
songs are already here.
They greet you with silence
and you learn your name.
The rainbow curves toward darkness.
The surface of every sphere
tilts into its vacuum, pours
a golden yolk into raven wings.
Now make a new body of your brave
annihilation, weightless as a flame.
And tell me, dancing tongue of fire,
don’t you prefer the night?
Blackness becomes you.
Alfred K LaMotte
absorb into porcelain skin at last
leaving it a whole new shade of refined
When the geese in their skeined wedge take another enchanted voyage across the endless blue
When we wake up to this new day
loving life in spite of all that has gone before
When the one who loves us allows us joy in our exile
until we are ready to break our silent bread
When we allow the challenging heaviness of our limiting beliefs to enter into our arena wrestling until we have achieved Olympic gold
When we trust the great freedom of what has brought us to this very moment
When the wine of our heart
in it’s purest burgundy of bubbling merry or deepest sorrow
pours clear and jeweled in its crushing
When we give away freely our best crimson to everyone we meet at this royal wedding
When we finally recognize the truth that there is no journey of arriving
there is simply life
this grandest celebration of skin touching skin
the sharing of moments
the wonder of storytelling
the ancient ancestral linage of our tree-relations
the wonder of teaching and tasting and exploring
coffee and kisses and learning any odd/old/new thing with the ones you love
then we have arrived at our true work
the why we have sought so desperately to uncover for so long
lying crumpled and useless in the trash can
as we, a bit drunk, on our own exquisite vintage
make love to the world in blissful ecstasy
shhhh…there are new songs playing
to that saxophone…
In this world
I’m so glad there is you
Amy Lloyd (AL)
No matter how dark the clouds seem, they are only clouds. The sun is always shining, the sky is always light blue. The clouds are just droplets of water, gathered together to tease people who don’t remember the truth.
– Chris Collins