The destitute are shunned by society,
Artists capture their melancholy,
And the rich revel in the imagery.
The pattern is unstoppable,
To celebrate their plight would be improper,
But their existence cannot be overlooked,
Nor should it be taken for granted.
Artisans are voices for the poor,
But their messages are ignored.
Only the people who rise above poverty are celebrated,
Those who fall into it are scorned.
Like a painting, a photo, or a poem,
Welfare programs do nothing for the poor.
They are high-priced crutches designed to keep the impoverished at a distance,
And they give the Haves a selfish excuse to isolate the Have-Nots.
A golden sky at that day
Face to face we‚ll find the way
To the boy who dreams for you
And I know it‚s something true
Through mirrors he looks into your mind
We have to find a man who‚s blind
Only he can take his hand
And you won‚t need me to stand
ŒCause you‚ll be there where I can‚t be
A place my young heart don‚t want to see
I stood on a beach full of secrets
And I learned so much about the time
While the stones there were speaking to me
I had this question in my head
But the snow covered all the answers
And the water growed like grass
It took everything away from me
Only sometimes it gives something back
And sooner or later it will take it again
And we, what do we know ?
We only know where the shadows had fallen
Reflection let the things shine
Imagination let the things be mine
Faith let me look into the sky
Love let my heart die
Dreams let you play
The sun let you stay
Fear let me soul burn
And nothing but you let me turn
Our mothers read us children's stories,
as most mothers do,
Stories of giants and of elves
Now we know that these aren't true,
With cookie crumbs and chocolaty thumbs
I took my beauty rest
When I awoke I was a fright,
I knew that I'd had some guests,
The fairies had come while I had slept,
And styled my hair with whimsy,
I tried to tell my lover this,
But alas my story was flimsy
He left me there with my new hair,
The fairies had their laugh,
I wrote him off, no great loss.
And then I had my bath.
In the warmth of the day I walked in the sunlight.
the folds of my heart closed tightly.
Iridescent green and hovering upon open blooms,
a hummingbird swayed lightly.
It's wings carried it weightless resting on the air,
hands held together I reached with hope I held with such care .
They clasped the beauty of a dream I thought was not there.
What I had found, I captured,
to bring my heart to life .
Yet it would not bring my happiness,
it's beauty dull with strife.
I let it go and as so my heart unfold,
With room for joy and for life.
Sunset.....a time of color and reflection.
Of friends and laughter.
A distant train horn, and I wonder- what am I doing here?
I go to the source and wait.
Another train, and then a third.
An audience of one as green signals flash to red, and I dream of the glory
won and lost,
and the joy within.
Of what is, and should be.
The show ends, and I realise the change must come from within.
As the sun rises, a new day brings new challenges.
The level of one’s tolerance
Is equivalent to one’s perspective.
Finding solace in the Mother Nature
Is to be comfortable in knowing she is temperamental.
Like all people affected by greater forces of nature,
A warm sunny day is a blessing.
External conditions are states of mind,
And each day is a unique moment.
Each moment rarely returns,
And we should feel lucky when it does.
Equally noted are the excuses for ones mood,
As it has nothing to do with the weather.
Thank goodness for variety,
For it is what makes life more enjoyable.
Be concerned about moving forward,
And concentrate on making your life more fulfilling.
Take notice of the little things in life,
And Appreciate subtle differences.
Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall,
Are natural reflections of life’s uncontrollable differences.
Take comfort in knowing the moon is a peaceful ending to an eventful day.
03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 11/01/2005 - 12/01/2005
