If Only

If you could only see me from the inside out...running in a field of flowers amid the morning dew...Supping white wine inside my thoughts...if only

Friday, June 25, 2010

THE OIL SPILL TRAGEDY






It’s not just another day along the beach.
Ceilings of blue rest high above poisoned
waters, swirling.
Senseless loss of life snarled amid the dark
murky liquid called monetary gain.
Miles of orange booms trace our headlines.

Arguments, pointed fingers, decisions,
black death spewing at will…untamed…

As we drive along the deserted beach road we
see pastel-colored homes that once housed
paper doll families on vacation…..
Sounds of laughter will soon lie as ink stains
in tomorrow’s diary.
The scent of deficiency meets our nostrils
amid every porcelain stare throughout our state.

Arguments, pointed fingers, decisions,
black death spewing at will…untamed…

Yellow metal caravans fill parking lots
along the way.
Now, tainted sands wear the footprints
of unknowns, here to salvage our frailness.
They, too, walk amid our heart prints of pain.

Arguments, pointed fingers, decisions,
black death spewing at will…untamed…

Condominiums stand vacant along
an asphalt trail that curls up
inside my mind…..
Strands of color rippling thru
the blackness, coursing thru veins of
dark oily waters of doom…
Orange-colored misery to remind us of
someone’s mistakes…or poor planning.

Arguments, pointed fingers, decisions,
black death spewing at will…untamed…

Thru the hourglass of time
sifts the sheen of our tomorrows…


June 25, 2010

Saturday, June 19, 2010

CHANGES



We are told that our bodies carry seeds of death from birth, cancer cells that hibernate like a bear in the winter time, changes before we even begin. Do we question this medical fact when presented to us for the first time? So, we are changing all the time. Who, or what, determines if change is merciful, just, or necessary? Why are we placed on this earth? Where does our faith lie?

I once read that Leonardo da Vinci put his faith in his paintings, yet most of his art was left to lie beneath the dust of time. What would drive this talented man to do such a thing, forsake that for which he was so well known? Was it pressure from others or was it his desire to study the human body? He studied for hours upon hours, dissecting and pondering his findings, his abstract moods mixed in a myriad of colors and shapes, thoughts and paintings.

Do human beings hunger for change or is change brought about by societal dictates? Must we succumb to pressure from others to succeed?

We set out to look for our own songs in this world. We all have a song to sing whether it’s about love, life, climbing up the proverbial ladder, loss of another, or whatever. Often times we find our songs frozen on the icy roads of change. These roads are called ‘life’ with its many detours, the external pressures, pushing internal buttons, challenging finite minds to step beyond their limits while facing a change…….