life: acoustic & amplified

poetry, quotes & thoughts about life

Archive for the category “power”

awareness is the key to change 

I tell my father about the way 

I collect small things

in the sacs of my heart—

thick juniper berries

apple cores that retain their shape

and the click of shells

that sound like an oven baking.

He presses the mole on my shoulder

that matches his shoulder,

proof that I was not found

at the bottom of the sea.

I also got his feet, far from

Cinderella’s dainty glass slippers

—
and fingers, too wide for most

Cracker Jack wedding rings.

I read how some mammals never

forget their young—

their speckled spots, odd goat

cries, or birthmarks on curved ivory tusks. 

There must be some

thread of magic there

cooling honey to stone—where

like recognizes like or how

a rib seeks its twin.

🙋🏼🙋🏼

A Taste of Blue by Cynthia Manick


Our survival adaptations are so tough, but our wounds are so delicate. To heal, we have to lift the armor carefully- it saved our lives, after all. It’s like moving your best friend off to the side of the path. You don’t trample on her, you don’t hit her with a sledgehammer. You honor her presence like a warm blanket that has kept you safe and sound during wintry times. And then, when the moment is right, you get inside and stitch your wounds with the thread of love, slowly and surely, not rushing to completion, nurturing as you weave, tender and true. The healing process has a heart of its own, moving at its own delicate pace. We are such wondrous weavers…

💞

 – Jeff Brown


TO STAND HERE
is to stand

at the center

of circle 

after growing circle

and reach

in the mind

for a far circumference

that holds as focus

an interior so far in

so concentrated

with origin

we find ourselves

by looking out

at what looks back,

the lighted edge 

of rock and sky,

the sweet

unmoving darkness

over the horizon 

that makes

a perfect 

beckoning symmetry

to the night

beneath our feet,

the underground

where light cannot live

but whose darkness

makes a ground 

on which to stand.
The central 

ancestral story

of those who

lived here

looking out

at the same horizon

and the same 

surrounding

ground,

who saw a world

that witnessed them

at a privileged 

center,

their lives caught

like ours

in the glance

of what lies beyond

only 

for a fleeting

moment.

From LON’S FORT

From Pilgrim: Poems by David Whyte


Refuse to fall down

If you cannot refuse to fall down,

refuse to stay down.

If you cannot refuse to stay down,

lift your heart toward heaven,

and like a hungry beggar, 

ask that it be filled. 

You may be pushed down.

You may be kept from rising.

But no one can keep you from lifting your heart

toward heaven

only you.

It is in the middle of misery

that so much becomes clear.

The one who says nothing good

came of this, 

is not yet listening.

–Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.

   – Mahatma Gandhi


I’m not here to live up to your expectations and you’re not here to live up to mine. 

    – Bruce Lee

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say it your way    

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
flowery white
shades of green to green
or absent 
I love nature 
reveals so much about how we could live

freely
patiently

endlessly creative
one leaf 

or leaving
one name 

many names 

or none
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)


I am here to tell you morning has come 

there’s this whisper promise 

in the breeze,

a bit of ethereal fog slipping between the sheets 

of night 

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

bowing heads

softly clapping

as they watch it all approaching. 
there’s this first blush of light,

smudging darkness,

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 

right now

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,

 like evening. 
Yes!
-William Stafford

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.

 

 – Albert Schweitzer

afterburner      


Ask yourself

As you stand there

In the pale grey air

Frozen to these four walls

Feet turned to stone

Decide!

What is worth saving?
Can you will your hands

To grab the memories

You carry only in your heart

Can you pack your boxes full

With the laughter that rings in your ears
The clouds taunt you

Hurry!

There is no time left

Three red flags declare your fate

The defiance of your feet

The moan caught in your throat

Your hands still empty

🔥

This Does Not Belong To You by Salyna Gracie
http://womenspiritualpoetry.blogspot.com/2014/10/this-does-not-belong-to-you-by-salyna.html?m=1

At any given moment 

we get to decide what we keep

and what we leave behind

what truly matters

what creates value for us

As my friend, Barbara McAfee, says,

“Who ya gonna be while you’re passing through?”

No one can answer that question for anyone else,

though many times we allow them to do so. 

Sometimes it’s a radical loss

we have lost everything we have kept dear

all our treasures in this world

in fire, flood, loss of jobs, health,

bloody battles with power hungry ex’s,

even flukey things never expected.

These are our opportunities 

when we only have ourselves left

and we burn as we adjust to this new space of being

the grieving takes us into different, 

often difficult, spaces 

where we get to (ok, have to) do a new thing

this is where life can reveal our best,

or worst, 

because, it’s always our choice! 

My wish for us is that

this becomes a beautiful foundation 

to rebuild our new ships –

the latest and greatest in technological wonders –

the kind which will catch the best wind

to take us to the next adventure  

for which we set sail!

Where our very lives become  

our grandest home ever!

The best is always yet to be! 

⛵️

Amy Lloyd (AL) 

aka The Oracle of Hope & Happiness

When there has been too much pain, we often forget that we have the built-in capacity to move through it to another state. The Divine gave us tears to be cried, the capacity to express our anger, a vast range of emotional devices that, when healthily unleashed and expressed, can clear the toxicity out of us, and lead us to lessons of self-love at the heart of them. In our authentic vulnerability lies our greatest power—the power to re open our hearts after loss and disappointment. The idea that feeling the pain gives power to those who have hurt us is completely wrong. Feeling the pain is an act of self-empowerment and the only way to make a break from the prison of repressed emotions. Reach inside and unlock the door…


– Jeff Brown



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”


we have a very low view of what it means to be human – Wm Paul Young

The Humanity of The Shack.

exposé   


It’s happened 

time and time again…

yet this time more so 

than anything, 

capital…ANYTHING…

ever before. 

don’t you think it’s strange,

how a shared pancake can be life changing?

it was the opposite of the final straw. 

it was the catalyst for the rising curtain of the beginning,

starting a chain reaction of Biblical proportion,

a new free-fall dive 

into the inner deep,

silence tearing up the very foundations 

of the ocean floor,   

of this life lived on the dangerous edges

of the radical cliffs of self-examination. 

Seven days of seismic eruption 

creating volcanic activity so great 

that dreams, 

long gestating in the souls womb,

burst forth – 

born, 

ready to scream in their own voice, 

into this wonderful world. 

as if no longer able to remain

hidden inside their clay container. 

Seven days so extraordinary 

they have changed my world

as I have always known it. 

uncovering the naked bones of my foundation,

exposing the shadowy villains of my learned weaknesses,

giving me new strength to heal those newly uncovered, 

rotted, shattered places.

in this place of my own choosing

I walk, choosing to be soft, 

in spite of the gripping fear. 

I choose vulnerability as my guide forward, 

into the fury of places I have long avoided. 

somehow, all of this,

including not knowing much of things 

I dearly wish I knew,

brings me hope for the brilliant future 

of this long-awaited life,

no longer holding back

but fully, wholly, inhabited,

at this current phase of growth,

as it should be

when we fall completely,

head over heels,

in love. 

🔥

Amy Lloyd (AL)



removing the shell  


THE LIGHT OF YOUR SOUL
There are no manuals for the construction of the individual you would like to become. You are the only one who can decide this and take up the lifetime of work that it demands. This is a wonderful privilege and such an exciting adventure. To grow into the person that your deepest longing desires is a great blessing. If you can find a creative harmony between your soul and your life, you will have found something infinitely precious. You may not be able to do much about the great problems of the world or to change the situation you are in, but if you can awaken the eternal beauty and light of your soul, you will bring light wherever you go. The gift of life is given to us for ourselves and also to bring peace, courage, and compassion to others.  

❤️

John O’Donohue

Excerpt from ETERNAL ECHOES








The Beloved can think of nothing more beautiful

          than her children running toward her

so she stands a bit away

          so we will come to her,

but she is not waiting in faraway places:

          no, it is in people whom we least suspect.

When we look at the stranger ―

          Ah! There she is. 
Then she gives that gift 

          to us for our own delight.

The Beloved has hidden us

          in one another,

waiting for us to see

          and come together in astonishment.
____________________ 
Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light 

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

threads that won’t break 


On Dec 3, 2014 (2 year anniversary of my living death in the dark night of the soul, I got a post titled Love never Dies from Jen Lemen at Hopeful World http://hopefulworld.org

Here’s a taste of what it said:
I am struck also as I write to you from this wintery desk, that building our capacity for stillness helps so much when the wild comes to our restless souls. Without that practice of being quiet, it’s easy to be scared when our wild, instinctual thoughts pop up. It’s easy to think that they are bad somehow or in need of corralling. But the practice of quiet and stillness helps us recognize our instinctual knowing for what it is: a call to our most true nature. A call to a kind of expression that is more vibrant, more textured, more passionate, more alive–even if it’s a little bit messy. Even if it kicks up a little bit of shame that we are this human, this raw.
So I invite you today to sit with me for three magic minutes. I’ll be right here with you, my own mind a rollercoaster of crazy, of frantic, of nonsensical worrisome things. I’ll sit with you and notice everything in my own soul, while you notice everything in yours and together we will begin to knit together an understanding of what’s underneath that noise: a gorgeous, exquisite tapestry of human longing designed to carry us to an awake magnificent place.
Will you join me?

Setting the timer now.

Let me know how it is on the other side.
With so much love,

Jen
It’s now 3.5 years later and Jen Lemen is still bringing all that, and more to me, to you, to the shaky, hoping world, to the edges of eternity…love never dies. 
Today, in this crazy, brutal brutal place, where we ask…
how can these two people be our Presidential choices?
how can people keep killing other people?
how can I deal with the grief and the fear of this? 
how can I help?
what is the solution? 
what is my part? 
Jen Lemen is doing her part. She’s offering Soul Snacks – 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Amazing gifts to all of of struggling, hungry, hurting, angry, frustrated pilgrims and poets. 
Right now she has open enrollment and I have just this…
Don’t wait! http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks
Gobble this up, savor it a bite at a time, eat them from start to finish, or nibble from the middle to each edge of crust. Savory, delectable soul-spices involving all your most subtle senses. 
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

💞

Keep wrestling, burn, scream, let go, melt, let your heart keep breaking for the sake of your heart, keep saying the names of your people, fiercely defend your tenderness, think, grieve, repair, renew, continue to do what’s in your heart to do…each thread matters…each color makes the world more beautiful…
in the end, only love is eternal, only love remains…
http://www.thewayofdevotion.org/soul-snacks

🔥

AL


We are God’s thread

weaving through the tapestry,

the masterpiece is slowly 

created. 

Potential for beauty, we can’t know,

    unfolding,

       becoming,

          revealing glory 

so bright 

it makes the sun squint 

and reach for sunglasses.  

Brilliance so far beyond ourselves

we go shining into the gray

as we open to the new jewels appearing,

sparkling in the moonlight. 

As we step into the needle’s eye 

the angels catch their breath,

cheering our blazing garments,

dazzled by the vision

God is revealing through the creation. 

As we surrender to the greatest mystery,

the beauty we inhabit 

becomes us,

walking in humble clay

eyes out shining the stars 

set in the heavens. 

Until we totally disappear and all that’s left

is holiness 

so pure 

all we can do 

    is 

bow in wonder 

at ourselves

and give thanks 

as the silk thread 

becomes liquid gold and silver

pure and simple

glory

as we realize our place in the whole. 

We are the temple of our creator. 

The home of God. 

😎

AL



As deftly and finally as one pulls out a thread

someone is weaving them, gracefully tying them,

minute and irreversible.
In the towering sky, even under the fortress, 

root tendrils muscle in and bind ligaments

through an abyss we had been told was absolute.
No enormity of terror

can keep up  

with the steady, unseen healing. 
Before the assault, the horrible wound, 

gaping and exposed,

the stitching has already begun.
Even as we sigh in our own world,

moving on, separate,

we are being sewn in. 
In the earthquake, the collapsing mountains,

not a bit of rubble falls

on the path from the temple.
If you could hold your immortal soul

in your hands, you would hardly recognize it

from one moment to the next.
Your grave is already empty. 
__________________  

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net


photo sources found at pinterest.com

the hum of Sabbath and poems


There will be the clutter and clatter of pans,

the rumble and jumble of traffic and trains,

the brambles of papers and lists and calls,

the beaten paths, the errands, the chores.

You don’t have to rattle and run with them.

You can do one thing at a time.

You can stop 
and sit at the feet of the moment,

pay reverent attention to whatever it is,

and listen to the silence beneath the hum,

and simply be

in the the presence of the presence.

In all your doing that you surely must do,

you still can just be.

And your being

will become

what you do.

In the stillness within the action

sits the Beloved

who is not distracted with many things,

but only wants to sit awhile 

with you.

__________________

Steve Garnaas-Holmes

Unfolding Light

http://www.unfoldinglight.net

I was reading…
yes, that was it…
reading…

poetry…
then I was awake…
and it was late afternoon…
and I felt heavy,
but so grateful,
to be able to finally get that rest,
to hear that sweet sound of rain,
to feel the soft of the squishy pillows,
to smell the fresh cut flowers by my bed,
to experience the healing power
of sleep. 
to gain the clarity. 
to allow the next question. 
to prepare for the hard next steps.
to feel ready.
sleep is a magic source of strength.
a necessary part of living well.
But, really, I was just reading poems…

😴💤💤

AL


Poetry is the art of the spoken word, a tapestry of emotion sparked by a single phrase, that impacts the deepest resonances of a heart….that holds it’s meaning through history.

💞

By AllPoetry fan, Taylor S.

💞

Do you agree? 

How does poetry impact you?



photo sources at http://www.pinterest.com

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