We Bring What We Can

Your photos breathe the beauty of connection

I bring what I can

Your depth of love and willing intervention

I bring what I can

Your wisdom voiced with ageless perception

I bring what I can

Your mysticism met with introspection

I bring what I can

Your analysis, reasoned frustration

I bring what I can

Your healing gentleness and understanding

I bring what I can

Your thoughtful prose and poetry, attention

I bring what I can

Your humour, stoicism, recollections

I bring what I can

Your friendship ‘cross the distance, humbled

I bring what I can

All grist to the mill from splendid isolation

We bring what we can

So many faceless voices, willing

Aspirants of worldly entente cordiale.

In reading and commenting on blogs today, and the word ‘isolation’ running through my mind since waking, I find myself humbled and grateful to be part of this great blogging community. So many others I could have mentioned. So many people everywhere bringing life and thought to their pages. Always reaching out. Bless you all. And, as my lovely blogging bud, Rene, always says in closing her emails and posts – Peace and Love.

Advertisements

Without Us

The echo of a dream still sounds,

I stand alone, the world turns round,

Without us.

There’s no one left

But me, bereft,

Without us.

The sky so blue with height astounding,

Sweet clean air, green grass, surrounding,

Without us.

Silence deafens, no birds in flight,

An emptiness as cold as night,

Without us.

And I’m stood there, quite all alone,

A lonely beauty now my home

Without us.

A hellish dream, to be apart

Amid such glory, there’s no heart

Without us.

Such hollow sight though stunning seen,

Nightmarish, really, sort of scene,

Without us.

I chose life when sound was heard,

Arise, it said, an awesome word,

We’re here. 

Big Bit Beautiful

Recent hist’ry, further back,

Nothing born of chance,

Entwine threads and treasures found,

Conjoined in life’s dance.

Ghosts of words, mem’ries bound,

Ugly turns to dust,

Ethereal, spiritual, one love

In which we trust.

Haunted notes from music box,

Motes that swirl from lid

Raised reveal of velveteen,

Box’d coffin where we hid.

Hand to cover, prised, released,

Hinges rusty creak,

Ballerina, beautiful,

Pirouettes, she speaks,

Seeks the treasure,

Finds and shares,

Gifted girl, soul-gowned,

Energy with him reclaimed,

Twin-tuned from Underground.

 

Random click on open mail,

A moment glimpsed in time,

Comment came from words read there,

Here developed as I find.

Grave reminders, must we all

To humility subserve,

But, building up and strengthening,

Big bits of beautiful, all deserve

A second song from music box,

Reminders when we fall,

Composition, love created,

Biggest beautiful of all.

 

Mary-Kate

Overtones and undertones of beauty all displayed

Upon rough-tumbled mattress, here no feathered bed,

Interwoven tresses cascading onto floor,

Rumpled cloth and denim, silken-casualled lore.

Breathed in creamed complexion, undisturbed in sleep,

Portrait of simplicity, in dreamland while I peep.

Softened heart displayed on lips,

Relaxing in repose,

Daughter number two, unthorned,

Delicately dazzling rose.

Your gift to the world

It is an honour and joy for me to guest blog at Scottishmomus. Anne-Marie is very dear to me, and to think that we have not even met up in person (yet). But we have met numerous times over the net, via emails and between each blog post. Our friendship blossomed through our mutual love for words, and passion for humanity. Technology has enabled us to find each other. With it, I have also found a beautiful soul sister in Anne-Marie. For this and more, I am truly grateful.

Technology can truly be used for the greater good when we make it so. I’ve witnessed how this wonderful blogging community has evolved over time, making it possible for writers and friends from all around the world to connect. I get to marvel at each unique talent at work (and play) in the process.

The blogging and writing arena is no different than the real world. It is not always smooth sailing, but there is always sparks of brilliance.

Bleeding Pen

 

There are times when the pen bleeds, but nothing comes forth. No words would adorn the page. No verses could spell out the emotions that lay buried.

But there are times when our hearts open up, and then the pen drips boundlessly as if by magic, from one page to the next – eager to fill up the emptiness, staining that white papery sheet with love, pain, happiness, sadness, hopes, fears, dreams and whatever else that lies beyond.

If you can write, write.

If you can draw, please draw.

If you can sing, please drown the noise with your melodious voice. 

Whatever it is that you are good at doing, or enjoy doing – just please do it.

Don’t let your fears hold you back.

As Steven Pressfield wrote in “The War of Art” ~ “Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got.”

So, channel all your emotions and creativity into form.

Bring them to life, and share with the world.

We are all better because of it.

Your talent is a gift.

It adds value to our perspectives, and enriches our humanity.

So, please don’t stop. And if you have yet to start, please choose your “medium” and begin.

As we await for Anne-Marie to complete her novel, may each of us continue to colour the world with our own magical “wand”.

 

THANK YOU WITH FOLDED HANDS,

Shirley Maya Tan at The Art of Fearless Living

 

 

Sandra And Mark

Humour and beauty,

The two so combined,

In Sandra, I seek

A piece of my mind

That sources the living,

The loving I find

 That no other woman,

No one can compare, to

Sandra, my Bullock,

I look and I stare

At beauty and talent,

So often revealed

In images conveyed

Where nothing’s concealed,

In pictures on screen

Where I must confess

I worship the woman

Who one day may bless

The life that I lead;

Spirit filled with reality

Becomes heaven on earth

With Miss Congeniality.

220px-Sandra_Bullock,_The_Heat,_London,_2013_(crop)Photo credit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sandra_Bullock

I would too, Mark. shit! Did I just say that out loud?! Lol. 🙂

HJ 1 FAIR’S FAIR! 🙂

My Space Cadet

Beautifully alien

And wonderfully bizarre,

From babe

To almost full grown.

Questioning

Strange anomalies of life,

And others,

I’ve never known.

Like, ‘If I was painted the same colour as air,

Would I be invisible to you?’

And, ‘ If the Clyde could be bottled,

How many bottles would you need that to do?’

 

And, others more usual, like,

‘Where does the itch go

When you’ve had a really good scratch?’

I look on and puzzle and question

From where exactly did this amazing boy of mine hatch?

 

I was there,

I felt the pain

And gazed at this gift in my arms.

Little knowing then,

That as he grew,

I’d succumb to all of his charms.

 

Eighteen years later I marvel each day

And wonder that I never saw

That my six foot Adonis

Had the soul of a child, a child full of wonder and awe.

My space cadet with questioning green eyes

And a mind with tremendous insight.

I know, in my heart, that this babe of mine

Is a child that was born of the light.

Love – A Definition

Love conquers

Loneliness,

Two become one.

Love conquers

Fear and heartache

For some.

Love conquers

Battles that rage

In each heart.

Love conquers

Hurts, betrayed

Far apart.

 

Love is

A mystery

Uncovered, united.

Love is

Supportive to

Spirits divided.

Love is

A wonder

To gaze on in awe.

Love is

The reason

We looked and we saw.

 

Love begins

When two hearts

Collide.

Love begins

When two souls

Confide.

Love begins

To show

A new way.

Love begins

Each dawn

Of new day.

 

Love suffers

Heartache when

Death plays its hand.

Love suffers

Fools, too proud

Or too grand.

Love suffers

For others and

Wishes them best.

Love suffers

Keenly at

Passing regrets.

 

Love is

The answer,

All questions it seeks.

Love is

Solution,

Each day and all weeks.

Love is

A gift

Bestowed from the source.

Love is

All beauty,

Revealed, of course.