Short – Shorts

Doubt, fear, those lies do not master us, we are overcomers, made to renew and begin again.

1
The ravens of doubt
Peck our garments of courage,
Rain finds every hole.

2
Voices say we are
Worthless, unreliable,
Some trust still remains.

3
Lying on the floor
The others are tall, strong, more,
Stomach acid boils.

4
A quick glimpse beyond,
We are brave enough to stand,
Race encroaching night.

5
The rain stopped its pour
While the sun rose to its place;
Broad smiles graced each face.

6
Pain reminds again
There is no power within,
Gives self-destruction.

7
Heroes break apart,
Lose ourselves inside the dark,
But life recalls us,
The fighting starts, we join in,
Forsaking all fears, to win.

The gremlins are overactive. I am wrestling on multiple fronts with technology, and the body has its own ideas. Still, it is right; I am here.

All the best to each of you. Find reasons to believe and keep on going. Life rewards those who continue, the alternative is untenable.

Redefine

Why must there be hate?
Why must the lovely be killed?
What possesses those
Who cause inestimable
Harm to individuals?

Somehow combat must
Ensue within hearts, homes, schools,
To irradicate
That nurturing such malice;
LOVE must permeate, prevail.

Exemplifying
Kindness, LOVE, bringing wisdom,
Generosity,
To the commonest of days;
Change may begin, take hold, win.

It can happen now
If our hearts – love and care, embrace
For the human race,
Treasuring each thing shared here,
LOVE leaves nothing still undone.

When I read of people meeting a violent end, it cuts into my heart and makes me feel that there should be better ways to handle life. All the stories ended, when a person dies are such a horrible tragedy to me.

May Be Icky

Sometimes I feel like
Poecilia Sphenops, the Common
Molly, swimming darkness
Imprisoned in an aquarium,
Time-limited, inside is mine.
For moments hold blessings,
Horrors without regard for
My delicate frame, constrained,
The world around me seeks bones
And ick may infect at any time.
Ebony scales blighted white
Only hours left in which to fight,
A lifetime passes, blistering speed,
Still, I am often blinded to its fleeting
Until I see its work in others, completed.
Always swimming, set
To bear whatever comes of day,
Giving my utmost to stay
In the mix, put into play,
Belly up is not, shall not be
What I choose as mine, my way,
I search the inside for an out
And I am making myself to be
Better, more fantastic than ick.

Process Note: Out of nowhere, the idea of writing a story about mollies and ick came to me earlier when I was singing. I started listening to the album, Black Star by David Bowie, which is indescribable. I wrote the poem in my journal and added to it on the computer. I did not have a picture of a Molly, been a many a long year since I have maintained an aquarium.

Blink

I sit here thinking
What a moment might hold for
The ones left waiting;
Such glory we may witness,
The return of the King of Kings!

Suddenly, the dead,
Raised, reconstituted, rise
Joining Jesus on high;
Fantastic congregation
Praising, together in the sky.

The Son lending light
Whether it be day or night,
Everyone aware
He is living, He now reigns,
God is more than we did claim.

More than mere words may
Explain, Christ’s LOVE, everything,
The gifts received precious
Beyond value, comprehension,
Eternity with God, our reason; being.

Sometimes the praise and wonder take over, and I cannot hide what moves my life.

Continue; Be

Nothing works to plan
Everything turns into dust,
But still, no despair
Earth can, with work, become brick
And with brick, great things are built.

I have no heart to
Tell you it is all over
Because this fight has
Been an everyday event
Longer than our lives endure.

Together we can
Make this nothing, a something
Others marvel at
Just trust and see, it happens,
People create history.

I have heart, your ways,
There is no force beyond love
Blessed of God above
Dreams, bright vision, filling days,
Creation alive expands.

We are stardust, blended light,
When given enough freedom
We banish terrors of blight.

I sat up in bed, writing into the morning hours. This was one of the poems I wrote just before sleep.