rumorsofme: Blog

YOU!

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 06:46:19 GMT

YOU!

what have you done
with this web
you have spun?

with lies and deceit
you folded away
any hoped for relief -- beyond
anything more than brief

you live as though you
could and always would
leave lasting prints among
the ever-
changing true

all longings renewed
Your alone and lonely,
I outgrew.

~rom~

this can't be my body
the real one I live in
how had it gotten
so tired
with what foes
had i conspired?
this was not the
intended play
which I wrote,
as my Heart cried: Betrayed!
Lost to edgy plots,
flamingo-ed yards,
neon lined alleys
who was not
a prisoner taken?
Whose Life and Loved
Torn and Shaken?
To live is to die
in another lullaby.
To rise again,
Your mind curious and then?
Back to here when,
Castles in the sand,
Hand over hand
We tried to hold the veil,
Divide the seas with our white sail
But evening came and we found no place
Where the two of us could live as One.

This is a sad affair...the air filled with
the scent of orchids purple in the night.
Yet none enough to pass the cost,
Of sharing love's tender, razored fright.

It's nothing left to fight for
Just emptiness where LOVING should be
And from the long and waited need
Voices shouted down the surf, the tempestuous sea.

A window opens, reveals its feel
More than that it cannot do
We stood in that window with hearts
Dizzyingly unreal

Perhaps the love of my curious Soul
Will one day follow my gaze
I expect nothing in the end
And there will be that end.

Where?
When?
How?
Why?

The answer's just the same, we
play more games, always
arriving back to the dance
That for all we cannot call back.

~rom~

THE SUN ALSO RISES

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 08:34:21 GMT

Today I lost a piece of me
Something golden and glowing
Between two hearts remaining free
Through unknown winds blowing
In the shadows of breath upon the sea

Even confined to harsh shells,
we were at once alone in our going
Sadly enhanced by the spell of our dance
We held beliefs beyond any common knowing
From page to page, we drew our chance

Yet still questioned the unrecognized
The ill growth of humanity's sowing
Chiseling reigns into marbled Hope
We clung to the Strength of Spirit flowing
Of love and memory and what Possibility Spoke

Now our event horizon has snapped back
Into an alone and lonely bestowing
I am wrenched by the loss of our physical regain
Now gone is the suffering and the painful lowering
The measure of your gentle Soul I will know again

In this remembrance of our strange encore
I see the Beauty of your graceful hands
Sculpting fine that especially beautiful wing
How many lifetimes have we sifted through the sands?
Now we are in Solitary griefs, neither of us hearing
Just ONCE MORE the telephone RING!

DREAM, welcome HOME the Dreamer
Let no trouble touch her face
No fear when she awakes
Or any disturbance of Angels bearing Grace
Only a fine mystic rain to bathe away that last
Quivering shake..

Be encouraged, The Sun Also Rises

~rom~

She was my dearest friend
Ever and always and unto no end
The loop of connection is not gone
May she feel my love until I enter in,
And we Begin IT all again...

But just now, Grief has work to do
and, however hard this letting go
I will begin to review the wealth,
Of our latest adventure...affirmed and confirmed.
Nothing will be left out

As I draw breath from deeply channeled cores
The Ways of these uncharted shores
Bids me Welcome Home
"You were never alone!"

~rom~

betrayal

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 04:54:36 GMT

she died

instead

within her head

no longer wed

to the painfully fed

lies usefully played

despicably said

to unleash the frayed

and feverishly led

matted red

thickly betrayed

hearts of Alliances

falsely laid

just another cast replayed

no longer undecided, afraid

she turned away and laid

down the long-delayed

riding the emotional raid

she took up her LIFE unmade

now to become the LIFE

She saved.

-rumorsofme-

Visit from another poet

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 17:45:18 GMT

The Invitation

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Kali Munro, M.Ed., Psychotherapist 416 929-4612
email@KaliMunro.com www.KaliMunro.com

Visiting Poet leaves this...

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 17:43:52 GMT

VISITING POET

Prelude

by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

What if it truly doesn't matter what you do but how you do whatever you do?

How would this change what you choose to do with your life?

What if you could be more present and open-hearted with each person you encounter working as a cashier in the corner store, a parking lot attendant or filing clerk than you could if you were striving to do something you think is more important?

How would this change how you want to spend your precious time on this earth?

What if your contribution to the world and the fulfillment of you own happiness is not dependent upon discovering a better method of prayer or technique of meditation, not dependent upon reading the right book or attending the right seminar, but upon really seeing and deeply appreciating yourself and the world as they are right now?

How would this effect your search for spiritual development?

What if there is no need to change, no need to try and transform yourself into someone who is more compassionate, more present, more loving or wise?

How would this effect all the places in your life where you are endlessly trying to be better?

What if the task is simply to unfold, to become who you already are in your essential nature - gentle, compassionate and capable of living fully and passionately present?

How would this effect how you feel when you wake up in the morning?

What if who you essentially are right now is all that you are ever going to be?

How would this effect how you feel about your future?

What if the essence of who you are and always have been is enough?

How would this effect how you see and feel about your past?

What if the question is not why am I so infrequently the person I really want to be, but why do I so infrequently want to be the person I really am?

How would this change what you think you have to learn?

What if becoming who and what we truly are happens not through striving and trying but by recognizing and receiving the people and places and practices that offer us the warmth of encouragement we need to unfold?

How would this shape the choices you have to make about how to spend today?

What if you knew that the impulse to move in a way that creates beauty in the world will arise from deep within and guide you every time you simply pay attention and wait?

How would this shape your stillness, your movement, your willingness to follow this impulse, to just let go and dance?

...think about it...

ddd

Sun, 20 Jul 2008 01:26:48 GMT

VISIONS OF EARTH, WE SHARE TODAY

GRAND TETONS NATIONAL PARK

BRYCE CANYON --- UTAH

CHACO CANYON --- NEW MEXICO

ANGEL FALLS, VENEZUELA

time waits not

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 22:39:31 GMT

I Held a Jewel in My Fingers

I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said, "Twill keep"

I woke - and chide my honest fingers,
The Gem was gone
And now, an Amethyst remembrance
Is all I own

Emily Dickinson

and is not sad
to wonder about those
whose
time it is to keep,
forgets the eternal true
that time and tide for
no man waits;

and there rests
the simplicity of all
our fates.

~rom~

...too late

Mon, 14 Jul 2008 22:59:25 GMT

...too late

no denying, I was upset

your useless lyings

curled into more regret,

filling the heavy emptiness dying.

what you have never had

is not because you

were a sympathy of life's sad --

no, you were fallen by your own untrue

while our breathing expends itself

through colors hardly squeezed

we search for anything left

of something love would conceive

behind brutal endings

set to blaze

are the torn renderings

of softly unspoken ways.

what was cast in this play?

what cause could be pleased?

by the unmeasured loving of today

suddenly colder and mournfully seized.

there is no absolution

no regret so great

that can bear the breaking confusion

when it all becomes

...too late.

~rumorsofme~

think on this...

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 04:25:12 GMT

A Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt about a tragedy. He said, “I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one.” The grandson asked him, “Which wolf will win the fight in your heart?” The grandfather answered, “The one I feed.”
— a native American Indian story

AMERICA

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 01:53:44 GMT

AMERICA...AMERICA

I am so tired of watching people on TV, being asked what they think of our growing economic woes – as they are pumping fuel into their automobile, truck, van, motorcycle, etc., -- only to hear them say, “…but what can we do?” WE can do anything. How has America become so impotent? Where has gone our courage? The ingenuity of humankind? (I’m not talking about the untiring devotion to duty that have our young men and women on foreign soil fighting someone else’s war, when they are needed on American shores, restructuring our own fields of dreams-- shoring up the levies, beating back the wildfires and turning on the midnight oil to raise the need is one I keep ever on the “feed” – BUT the time has come, the roles have shifted and we are the ones who need aid.)

I am an incurable romantic but I am a pragmatist as well and the swollen bellies of starving children, the unsheltered, uncounted numbers of humans with no home, no medical care should not be exempt from help or comfort anywhere on this planet, but especially on American soil. Otherwise we should send people out into the New York harbor to dismantle the STATUE OF LIBERTY, engraved with:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

The extraordinary beauty of America glosses over the unpleasant to view lying on park benches, addicted to dirty syringes tainted with momentary escapes from the harsh pronouncement of their unlivable lives.

It helps no one to sit back and exclaim how awful it is, how ugly and disgusting a lifestyle – LIFE--style?? If you think you are somehow beyond the illnesses that assail the body and mind, you are a willing & waiting fool. WE may not be our brother’s keeper; but unless we are willing to look at the painful truth of their existence, we are bound to garner some slice of it. We must stomp it out, pull them out and begin again to lay out a new route. FREEDOM is the whole of the enterprise that brought this fanciful dream to these shores.

Not your responsibility? What does that matter anymore? If you think you can curb your contact with these untouchables (every age of every civilization—I use that word in the most expansive way possible!), you are thinking foolishly. The act of any one so troubled and blinded by it, must be just barely hanging onto any sensibilities. America needs to come home. Home to care for her wounded -- whatever the war -- they need to be helped. Anyone willing to live such a despicable alliance with others similarly bound, are hungry for more than some drug that passes off and there they are back again, trying to fill the broken in.

It does seem to me, in considering all that is at stake for America's sake, for her needy millions --(NOTE: This is where we leave from to go to some African state --- where children just hang limply on to their tired mother’s dried up breast, who has no way to save her child.)
to provide the best we can restore. The pantry's are emptying, the shattered minds of our future lie beneath some porch or some freeway, while our own bridges are collapsing -- all of a sudden, does it not seem? America is the one other nation for whom aid is now sent. We cannot ever forget these people are human beings, wherever they came from. (so has been the evolution of humankind) They are on this soil now and we can and should do everything humanly possible to protect and care for these lost soldiers, who can yet help those coming along.

The way is long and there is no getting around that. We will endure harshness and know again the treasure of being christened an AMERICAN. This is our county and she's hurting, maybe even in some aspects, dying...but there can be no birth if there is no death. But we must recognize that we can save her, by saving ourselves so that we can be of service to others. When you sit down to your dinner tonight, take just a moment of quiet, and feel in your strong heart beat, that we will not let the idle tides claim them. Nor give up on this country because we feel so overwhelmed. This land has been for how long we don't know; and if it so that we have a Manifest Destiny, then it is for this destiny that we must decide -- I love this country; I live in its Soul. There I was born, am growing old and one day will leave, my dying having left nobody wiser. We are just human beings with deeply entrenched feelings, reckless loyalties, and too hastily thrown together Congressional Bills that go back over those already written in our Constitution (this is a dangerous activity...where does it stop, who is going to stop it?) I look on my computer and note the different "feeds" that we can align ourselves to receive. My God! Think of that in its most literal translation: We, the American people, are being "fed" what and only and if, it is going to draw the ratings in and nothing draws the viewing of the American populace like some human failing (e.g., sexual trysts go big these days) If everyone who didn't get the candidate of their dreams on the ballot crawls off to some corner to pout, then look out! How are children supposed to lead Children? In this world of such divisive factions that it becomes frozen by changing reactions .

YOUR VOTE is your part of the payment that others gave their lives for. Let's get busy and clean this country up. She has been ignored too long. Remember your song, no verses skipped, no help refused.

-rumorsofme-

-rumorsofme-

that thing you do...

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 06:36:58 GMT

"That little weird thing people tell you to stop doing--don't, it's what makes you, YOU.

"My candle burns at both ends, however short the night."

"Giving someone the shirt off your back accomplishes just about that."

"The right time is always available, it is you who must be right for the time."

"the highway to Heaven is a very crowded way."

"What happened to the road less traveled?"

"Why must the 'best of times' always include some of the 'worst'?"

"We only give to get."

"I have become my own prisoner."

"The last time you were here, might be the last time."

"Without the shelter of Spirit, even the mind-body sex exercise is only that."

"The real me has no smiles or tears or waiting or lying or any Truth to bear."

"Do you not yet see all the others hearts beating within me?"

"A resting place is not a destination."

"Win some, lose some, you never get even."

--rumorsofme--

the road

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 08:20:41 GMT

" Do you know the Gift is on the road you just passed by?"

"The same road you pass daily, nightly and even in your Dreams?"

"It is in the same passage-way that all must pass on their way beyond their beliefs about Heaven and Hell."

"Mornings Call"

~rumorsofme~

never satisfied

Wed, 25 Jun 2008 23:01:47 GMT

Gallery Title :

Beaches

Known as the "Island of Spices," Zanzibar, Tanzania, produces a variety of crops including cinnamon and nutmeg. But it's the cloves that dominate the economy—and the scent in the air.

Credit : PhotoDisc


THE AWAY NETWORK		Away.com		OutsideOnline.com		GORP.com

Somewhere in you and me
there breathes a taunting spirit
yearning to be free.
As long as your heart
and mine are bound
by the same heavy anvil
that allows no sound;

then neither of us
will ever know
how deep the Passion
within us could grow;
what Gifts lay within
what happiness would show!
when the Power of Acceptance
and LOVE are Bestowed.

what walls would fall
by the undeniable devotion
of our call.!
what Healing Gates
would swing away
the windows of Heaven
for this holy day!

Yet, words do nothing more
than lay on a page,
it is the WE, of you and me,
who must deliver the
Promises of all that can be.

Don't tell me it can't be done!
Because Fear could not be
overcome.
Today was someone's last one
No tomorrow will dance with
Memories more sure.
Should WE become the image
of Passions

Unrehearsed...Uncast.

All the movement
of a hunger never satisfied,
always exhausted in
hurry...and
forever denied.

~rumorsofme~