dpbowman

The posings of a poet.

Archive for the category “Life”

All the Feels

When it feels like
You’ve lost
It’s because you’ve
Likely won
When you feel there’s
Only darkness
It’s because you’ve
Known the sun
If it feels like you’ve
Wandered from the way
It’s because sometimes
A heart will stray
If you feel truth is
Too often hidden
It’s because you’ve seen
It flow unbidden
If it feels like time
Won’t let Love win
It’s because you’ve been
Scarred but loved again
If it feels these feelings
Are too much
It’s because they are
As such
If it feels that feelings
Are not enough
It’s because you’re made
Of stronger stuff
If feelings feel often
Less than real
It’s because you are free
To begin to heal

Perspective

If you step back from life it will speak
And whisper to you if you’re strong or weak
It will speak of the questions you have in your heart
And remind you that answers are no place to start
It will calm you and call you to simply recall
There’s joy in the journey even if it’s a fall
Life has her secrets that you may yet guess
The greatest she holds is the lock of success
Yes the lock is the secret understood by so few
They expect to find keys, but the key, friend, is you
Throw your passion desire and will at that latch
And stepping back you will find your dreams you will catch
For you need not chase them or follow at all
Just find the resistance for that lock is your call
Just find that one point in all life that ignites
For which you’d give up money privilege and rights
Change that resistance to friction and turn
You’re the key, unlock life and let your light burn

If God is the Sun

If God is the sun, I don’t want to be the moon. It implies I alone can receive and reflect His grace and love.
   I want to be a blade of grass. To absorb His loving kindness and grow with those like me that surround me. I want to share the joy with others of stretching out to greet Him. I want to understand the fear of being cut down and the comfort of knowing those around me feel it too. I want to stain the lives of others with the very soul of me. I want what makes me grow to be evident and mysterious. I want to put down roots that get tangled in the lives of others and hang on tight together when the storms come.
    I need God to be my Sun and my gardener. I need him to feed me and tend me too. I can’t cultivate seeds for future growth in myself, only He can do that. I can’t pull the weeds out of my life or those of other’s lives. I can see them. I can see how they steal what God intends for us, but only He can dig them out for good and for my good. I want to cover this planet with evidence of growth through God’s light and love and mercy.
  If God is the sun, I want to be grass.

In Hale

Some moments I seem to see
Some malice stalking me
I my sword unsheathe

I lash out at life
And perceived wrong seems so rife
I begin to seethe

I whine and then I shout
I let it all hang out
Like a baby begun to teethe

Until I finally recall
Through the fire of it all
As smoke begins to wreathe

I am the master of my heart
I will tell it to finish and to start
And take a moment just to breathe

RE: Define

Courage – Beauty standing in shadow of death, nodding grimly, and taking a bullet

Truth – Beauty calmly waiting for all to see there is one logic and reality, simplicity is reality

Honor – Beauty announcing pure intention

Faith – Beauty seeking it’s origin

Hope – Beauty believing tomorrow is always possible

Peace – Beauty injecting love into chaos

Kindness – Beauty settling silently in responses

Sincerity – Beauty seeing and saying what always is

Gentleness – Beauty touching another in word or deed

Goodness – Beauty explaining what ought be

Self-control – Beauty holding the reigns of emotion

Love – Beauty translating the language of the soul

 

Afikomen

afikomen bag: getting ready for the goods

the coming one

for Micah

If we had known that meal was last

What would have changed in that repast

If we had known how short the days

Would we have amended mundane ways

If we had known what followed here

Could we have held you more than near

If we had known when that morning came

Would we have faced it meek and tame

If we had known the very hour

Would we have had any more power

If we had known or could have foreseen

Would we have understood all it will mean

If we had known from that day to this

What would have changed in all we miss

Been

I know not the sounds of silence only sibilance and shushing
All these restless thoughts sputtering splashing and ever rushing
From one ear and back again

To tell me I must be alive and free and thinking
Or that I am drunk on all the poetry I’ve been drinking
To try to drown this din

That is the irony of life with which itself is often rife with meaning
Only we go on from dusk to dawn feigning ignorance instead of gleaning
Something other than holiness or sin

The noise it quite fantastic good thing the brain’s elastic though too often blown
By necessary sequence of planned accidents that one should’ve known
Here we go again

Bubbly

Girl blowing bubbles

…a piece of you

 

 

 

Our children are so much like bubbles
We pray soar over most of life’s troubles
They grow as we breathe out our dreams
And float up on warm refracted beams
And as they hang still rainbows spin
So you hope they will alight again
But they are their own beauty now
And you’ll look at others and see how
Like bubbles are these ones we love
And you’ll look around and above
And pray that they’ll drift back to you
Even if for only a moment or two
But either way you begin to see
You helped beauty come to be
Your dreams and lessons now reflected
Three-sixty view newly collected
Part of you will always fly free
Because you now have found the key
You may hold the wand and blow
But the magic which they undergo
Is that as they fly ever high
A piece of you will touch the sky
Pain and joy now come in doubles
For our children are so like bubbles

 

Shaft

Spear head

Let your life reveal…

 

The moment of your birth
First sadness, first mirth
The legend of your walking
The beginning of your talking
Learning indifference from love
Deciding who watches from above
First attempt to stand alone
Falling faster than a stone
Rising up with help and desire
Choosing who sits at your fire
Feasting, starving, wealthy, poor
Learning what a soul is for
Stating “I am” into the night
Wondering if you were ever right
All are but the wood behind
The spearhead, please be so kind
To pierce with purpose sinew and joint
And make your life reveal your point

 

IDK

English: I found this Opossum playing dead on ...

Oldest Bluff

 

Why does truth taste like gravel
Why does the plot have to unravel
Why are all areas black or white
Why are the blind in oversight
Why is fashion become addiction
Why is there ever some predilection
Why should tolerance become acceptance
Why should right be by insistence
Why can’t words capture the soul
Why can’t speaking make one whole
Why not seek questions instead of answers
Why not admit our prejudices are cancers
Why hold on to what’s not healthy
Why hold out when you are wealthy
Why can’t peace be spun as wrong
Why can’t we admit battle all along
Why isn’t it clear the war’s within
Why isn’t anyone willing to begin
Why won’t we say enough is enough
Why won’t we call earth’s oldest bluff
Why don’t we choose ourselves to free
Why don’t we allow you, you and me, me

 

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