Tagged: love

Poems – Healing.

Real stuff. I spent years bashing my past, and not surprisingly, that self bashing affected the present. How we perceive our past selves completely affects how we see the one that looks back at us in the mirror every day. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Two very critical words that I’ve become familiar with on my journey…they both lead to love. Love who you were…heal who you are. Become who you were meant to be.

Poems – Cement.

I saw a picture this morning of an actor placing his hands in wet cement outside of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. The photo was 20 years old, but to the actor, I’m sure it was a pinnacle moment of his career. That moment has long since passed, but the memory of it is sealed in time.

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Every day is wet cement. Some of what we do will drift away on the wind. Other things, achievements or memories, good or bad, will be locked and sealed in our own little personal histories.

Poems – The Last Page.

Like the saying goes, death is one of those few guarantees that we all have in common. There are a ton of analogies out there regarding life as a book, and for the most part, it really is a solid one. We’re all going to have a last page one of these days. Figure out what you can today. If not, don’t worry. Do what you can. Live. Enjoy. Breathe. Appreciate.

Poems – Through the Soil.

Some dreams are killed in the infant stages. In the dark they sit patiently, waiting for the day that we will breathe just a bit of life into them. And for whatever reason, fear most likely, we kill them off before they’ve had a chance to grow. So there they sit, quietly under the soil, and there they’ll die…unless we give them life. Don’t let your dreams stay buried. Give them a bit of sun and see what happens next.

Poems – Manqué.

Today’s dictionary.com word is ‘manqué’, which is ‘having failed, missed, or fallen short, especially because of circumstances or a defect of character; unsuccessful; unfulfilled or frustrated’.

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We’ve all had that familiar feeling that maybe we aren’t where we thought we’d be in life. That we’ve failed, that our time has run out, that we haven’t lived up to our potential, or that our dreams are too big or too unrealistic to attain. But at the end of the day, the blessing of who we are today, here and breathing, supersedes everything. There’s always a chance to capture those dreams, because it’s never truly too late to reinvent.

Poems – Stolid.

The dictionary.com word challenge continues. Next up is ‘stolid’, which is ‘not easily stirred or moved mentally; unemotional; impassive’.

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Our world is pretty jaded, and the simple beauties around us are so powerful and so plentiful, that they’re almost impossibly complex. Think mountains or the sky. The way the sun hits the horizon as it descends toward sunset, or the way the stars glow on those dark, brooding nights. Visually simple, but so amazingly complex.

Poems – New Project.

I’m using dictionary.com’s word of the day to help shatter a writing slump that I’m currently weathering. Today’s word is ‘slake’, which is ‘to lessen or allay (thirst, desire, wrath, etc.) by satisfying’, and my goal is to write a brief piece using that word. No hesitation, no waiting, no perfectionism. Wish me luck.