life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “Passion”

the sensual colors of poetry 

I like your wide open window soft abandon

your wild free wheelin rambunctiousness

your inexplicable

untamed

a soft new invention

a wilderness

a concoction of sensual indigenous aromas

and I want to hear you sing

your wild buffalo song

my axe wailing some new chord

with the sun on our backs

cool water in our packs

.

I want our hikes to go on for days 

months years

exploring everything wild 

and real

fully contaminated with green forest and wild herbs 

till our blood is so fully and completely inoculated

with chlorophyll and light 

that our dreams become plainly visible 

.

as the light runs from the skies

and the sun dims

we will lie on warm ground 

inventing a new perfume 

under a blanket of whispering stars

🔥

Adam A. DeFranco

I’m in an open relationship

with my heart.

How can I contain my passion for snails?

For otters, milkweed in autumn,

the holes in old socks that live

for decades in a drawer,

stray cats, lonely porcelain

Sleeping Beauty and the Prince

salt and pepper shakers,

coyotes moaning in the wetland,

wayward petals that wander

far from their roses

on rain-swollen breaths of September.

Each creature, I’m afraid,

is my favorite partner.

You, you above all.

I say that to everyone, don’t I?

After love making,

the universe and I just lie here

gazing through our tears.

Who is the sweat-beaded Dancer?

Who is the Witness wearing only

a necklace of stars?

One who burns completely,

leaving neither smoke

nor ashes,

becomes pure.

❤️
Alfred K. LaMotte


Yes, God is mysterious as fog,

but please, don’t give me that stuff

about God playing hard to get.

She is so into you 

I can’t believe you don’t see it.

She’s flagrant about it.

She writes you the steamiest letters

in the colors of sky and leaf, 

in stone and sea and child,

her hands are all over you,

she has moves that—admit it—

make you blush.

He’s in your dreams, 

whispers to you when you aren’t listening.

You think those scriptures are some dry text

but it’s him, fawning all over you,

saying your name.

She wears the most revealing outfits,

struts her stuff, begs for attention.

They’ve always been like that. 

Going on singles cruises,

trolling the skankiest bars in town,

hoping for luck.

She has no shame, no holding back.

I’d take her aside and talk to her

about decorum and such,

but golly, 

I can’t even get in the same room with her

without her climbing all over me. 

She’s yours, mate. 
Yeah, it’s a little wild. Razor’s edge.

I get why you pull back.

But listen.  

Secretly, so in the dark you don’t even know,

it’s your own heart that’s flirting 

with everything that moves.

She’s the one 

who’s holding you quietly, calmly, murmuring,

“Easy. Easy. I’m right here.

You’ve got me. It’s OK.”
______________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


I want to kiss you forever

I want to lay with you

in a tangle of sheets and tongues and crazy, wild hair

with the rain beating against the foggy windowpane

and touch your face 

as our warm 

eyes and souls and bodies 

melt into one

with God

the perfect trifecta 

I want to stay there

forever 

and then another endless, beautiful day

I’ll not ever ask for more

than to love 

and be loved

like this

by you

💋

Amy Lloyd (AL)


You can

die for it–

an idea,

or the world. People
have done so,

brilliantly,

letting

their small bodies be bound
to the stake,

creating

an unforgettable

fury of light. But
this morning,

climbing the familiar hills

in the familiar

fabric of dawn, I thought
of China,

and India

and Europe, and I thought

how the sun
blazes

for everyone just

so joyfully

as it rises
under the lashes

of my own eyes, and I thought

I am so many!

What is my name?
What is the name

of the deep breath I would take

over and over

for all of us? Call it
whatever you want, it is

happiness, it is another one

of the ways to enter

fire.

 ~ Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems

Remember: Joy is not a sin; sacrifice is not a virtue. 

         ❤️ Paulo Coelho ❤️

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what fire am i?  


i am the fire on the mountain

i am the fire by the sea

i am the fire in the forest

burning down all of the trees


i am the fire in the desert 

i am the fire in the snow

i am the fire that will warm you

when your bones have grown cold


i am the fire for your shelter

i am the fire for your bread

i am the fire for your hunger

whenever you go to bed

i am the fire on the water

i am the fire that is near

i am the fire burning your words

consuming your doubt and your fear


i am the fire of your longing

i am the fire of your soul

i am the fire of your loving

i will never grow cold


i am the fire for your winter

i am the fire for your spring

i am the fire of your living

passion and life i will bring


i am the fire of destruction

i am the fire where you die

i am the fire of your Phoenix 

as you rise, as you soar, to the sky

🔥

Amy Lloyd (AL)


burnt toast and beauty in the morning  


You cannot seek water

from the one

who drained your seas,

and you cannot build

a home for your worth

inside of another being.

The medicine is when

you return to yourself

where you will remember

your strength,

reclaim your own rhythm,

and write your new song.
——-

a poem from Victoria Erickson’s wonderful new book- Rhythms and Roads… Check it out here.. 
https://www.amazon.com/Rhythms-Roads-Victoria-Erickson/dp/099478435X/



photo above by Fisherman Dan @ Branford, CT
in the world between worlds
where the shimmering abstract
holds all the secrets within us
words are absent
no scripture exists
there are no definitions
as there is no need for such things
in our eternal knowing 
we are ever-being known
the mystic colors of God fill us
unseeable in this earthly realms obscured vision 
they hold us there 
where we don’t need to be understood 
or understand anything
we are simply
all we could ever hope to be
we are the lover and the beloved
eternal love
eternally loved 
complete
You in I
I in you
one

💖

Amy Lloyd (AL)

world changer 

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

A KEY TO HAPPINESS — SPIRITUAL HUMILITY

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




words and eye above by Jen Lemen 

imagine  

there is wonder 

in the shape of things

magnificence in patterns 

grace in the traced template 

outlining perfection

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

neighbors 

friends

family

lovers

each continuing at their own pace

💞

Amy Lloyd (AL)



check out Rama’s blog at: 

https://ramaink.wordpress.com




we are each uniquely made. we are each uniquely broken   – Wm Paul Young


Take me past

the guarded place

in you

where confusion

covers itself

in unrelenting confidence

then marches on

In lively steps

Take off the façade

let it fall away

into nowhere

Turn around and face me

I search the infinite depth

where beyond all entrenchments

I find your thirst

to be met 

and understood

the sadness in your bones,

the want of your silent cries

to be heard

and be known—

abiding within those 

unseen landscapes

is a world of precious

dreams

Let me touch where

the battle wounds

lie quietly healing—

Buried beneath

an armored sheath

rests a lifetime of love

and loneliness,

blame and triumph, 

honor and defeat

Within this blended web

of scars and treasures,

glistening with honesty,

there you are—

I found you,

beneath the soldier’s plated heart

So loosen the knots around my own

see all its agony bared and mending

and in between each open space

we’ll breathe upon the frailty

All the wishful longings to be had

bring to me yours

as I meet you there with mine.
Quest in Hope is a Traveler by Susan Frybort… https://www.amazon.com/Hope-Traveler-Susan-Frybort/dp/0980885973/

What Your Heart Knows
“And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17).

 

Oh, darling, I know you want to touch Me—to reach out your hands and feel Me tangibly. Might I feel more real, then? Might I be more easily recognized?
Look again.
Look again.
Where is your restless heart? To what does it turn, if not to Me?
What can you see more tangibly that distracts you from Me, when all my creation calls out my name? What calls out something else? What does not cry out holy? What does not cry out these words: I have you. I want you. I rescue you. I redeem you. I claim you. I made you. I beautify you. I hung on a cross for you and faced death and won?
What tears you away? 
From what do you get your self-worth? How do you decide the value of a day? How do you choose what is yours to do? What is your rhythm? How do you receive energy? How do you find rest?
Oh, my dear, where do I fit in?
My beloved, I did not come to play second. I did not come to trick you, con you into loving Me. You only know who you are and what you’re worth through my love for you—my dying for you on the cross. I would do it again for you. 
I would, you know.
But here’s the thing: I did. I did. For you.
I do not ask you to love Me out of guilt, out of obligation. I give you a heart that knows its way to Me. It knows its true self. It knows its name. It knows its place. It knows by whom it was made. It knows the giver of all good things and how things began and how ending isn’t an option until the time is finished here.
I say ‘it is finished’, and the beginning began again. I called ‘Father, I commit my Spirit to thee’, and that Spirit is now yours. And your heart knows my Spirit. You know Me. My children know their name.
So touch these scars. Touch these hands. Let these fingers wrap around yours. My Holy Spirit—Me in you—holds on tight.
So, come on now, sweet one, you hold on tight, too. We’ve got things to do together.
 – Loop

gather ministries

think pink color story 



today is Pink’s Birthda! Alecia Beth Moore, known professionally as Pink, is an American singer, songwriter, dancer and actress. Noted for having “a strong signature voice and a literally acrobatic ability on stage,” Pink has sold over 135 million records worldwide. Happy birthday, Pink!

blues jam



chances are something you give yourself. – The Universe (TUT)

It was a long time ago. 

I have almost forgotten my dream. 

But it was there then, 

In front of me, 

Bright like a sun- 

My dream. 

And then the wall rose, 

Rose slowly, 

Slowly, 

Between me and my dream. 

Rose until it touched the sky- 

The wall. 

Shadow. 

I am black. 

I lie down in the shadow. 

No longer the light of my dream before me, 

Above me. 

Only the thick wall. 

Only the shadow. 

My hands! 

My dark hands! 

Break through the wall! 

Find my dream! 

Help me to shatter this darkness, 

To smash this night, 

To break this shadow 

Into a thousand lights of sun, 

Into a thousand whirling dreams 

Of sun!

As I Grew Older by Langston Hughes

It’s a story as old as time itself

Girl meets boy

There they go

Falling in love
It’s an ending no tale wants to tell

Girl and boy

Drifting farther 

And farther apart
Now she lives in the house of broken dreams

pictures fade 

Time stands still

All the shadows standing in their places

Cracks appear

Clock feebly striking on through the gloom

As the tears fall down her face
It’s all just the way it all was then

Just the same as the day when life broke 

30 years ago

although lots of things have gathered

 into every available surface and corner

Dust falls down

Settling on fading glitter

Grime on glass 

Fogging up the window panes 

mold grows free 

covering years of freeform piles

She still smiles that painted smile

You can’t see the lonely spaces

when you meet her on the street

Life moves on and on without her

It’s illusion that you see
Because she lives in the house of broken dreams

pictures fade 

Time stands still

All the shadows standing in their places

Cracks appear

Clock strikes weakly at each hour

As the tears fall down her face
It’s the ending no reader wants to read

Girl and boy

Drifting farther 

And farther apart

until he leaves

and she fights 

to get something she can keep forever 

as she always dreamed it would be
Never letting go

Never moving on 

It’s the hardest part

Nobody wants to read this ending

This extreme dirty secret behind estate gates

stone lions eternally guarding 

heartbreak frozen in time

hoarding only she can stop

💨

Amy Lloyd (AL)

If you have a dream, don’t just sit there. Gather courage to believe that you can succeed and leave no stone unturned to make it a reality.

– Roopleen

“I have a firm belief in this now, not only in terms of my own experience, but in knowing the experiences of other people. When you follow your bliss, and by bliss I mean the deep sense of being in it, and doing what the push is out of your own existence—it may not be fun, but it’s your bliss and there’s bliss behind pain too.
“You follow that and doors will open where there were no doors before, where you would not have thought there’d be doors, and where there wouldn’t be a door for anybody else.
“. . . And so I think the best thing I can say is to follow your bliss. If your bliss is just your fun and your excitement, you’re on the wrong track. I mean, you need instruction. Know where your bliss is. And that involves coming down to a deep place in yourself.”
Joseph Campbell, “The Hero’s Journey”


preserving by excusing  

The true inner self

must be drawn up

like a jewel from

the bottom of the sea,

rescued from confusion,

from indistinction,

from immersion

in the common,

the nondescript,

the trivial,

the sordid,

the evanescent.

-Thomas Merton

  Seed of Contemplation


words silently spoken

from the other room

words fitly 

uttered aloud

in due time

silent revelry 

of the heart

surrendered

to defeat

successful in distraction 

sidetracked by our addictions of choice

too brilliant to be truly seen

waiting to die

too damaged to brave transparency 

too convinced that ‘nothing can be done’ to brave self responsibility 

too comfortable to say no to that monster keeping us chained to the weakest parts of ourselves

the bullsh** of wasted lives

the emptiness of wasting time

the cruel decisions of men drowning 

the hopes of the weak trampled

the tragedy of the parental misguidance 

ingrained foundations 

the travesty of religion 

gone wrong

it happens so often

doctrine and old false belief systems

 becoming the 

masters of deceit filled lives

rather than the servant

of love

oh soul arise and fight 

break up the hallowed ground of the falsified truth

oh, my friend, take back your life

open the beautiful box 

of your most vulnerable, passionate essence

the pope will never take your case

your parents will never grant permission

but then again,

why would you want them too?

This is your life! 

Only you can stand for what is given you

take that buried coffin

out of the ground

plant a seed or two inside

No one else can do it for you

or take it away from you

just you

 you can never be too sensitive 

you already know the real truth

celebrate yourself

flaunt your true colors

they’re so very beautiful 

remember to remember

only love is real

💞

Amy Lloyd (AL)


Help Me
As they’re used psychologically, words like repression, denial, sublimation, and defense all refer to one form or another of the way human beings erect walls to hide behind, both from each other and from themselves. You repress the memory that is too painful to deal with, say. You deny your weight problem. You sublimate some of your sexual energy by channeling it into other forms of activity more socially acceptable. You conceal your sense of inadequacy behind a defensive bravado. And so on and so forth. The inner state you end up with is a castle-like affair of keep, inner wall, outer wall, and moat, which you erect originally to be a fortress to keep the enemy out, but which turns into a prison where you become the jailer and thus your own enemy. It is a wretched and lonely place. You can’t be what you want to be there or do what you want to do. People can’t see through all that masonry to who you truly are, and half the time you’re not sure you can see who you truly are yourself, you’ve been walled up so long.
Fortunately there are two words that offer a way out, and they’re simply these: “Help me.” It’s not always easy to say them-you have your pride after all, and you’re not sure there’s anybody you trust enough to say them to-but they’re always worth saying. To another human being-a friend, a stranger? To God? Maybe it comes to the same thing.
Help me. They open a door through the walls, that’s all. At least hope is possible again. At least you’re no longer alone.
~ Frederick Buechner 

originally published in Whistling in the Dark and later in Beyond Words





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