Welcome to my poetry Corner
Release
Sitting quietly pondering the moment What will happen next? Are you with me? Transparent skins of consciousness Envelop the threads of life. Come follow the calls to life Dangerous movements to skills unknown. It allows mere disregards of transparencies No longer awaiting answers To questions already uttered Cry out to those unheard. Touch the films and feel the moment Catch a glimpse and hold it forever It will be yours Only to endeavor a jump into RELEASE. Apryl Copyright �2003 April L Livermore (published 2001 through poetry.com) IzaboHawk
HEARTPRINTS Whatever our hands touch... we leave fingerprints. On walls, on furniture, on doorknobs, dishes and books. As we touch we leave our identity. Oh please wherever I go today... help me leave heartprints heartprints of compassion, understanding and love. Heartprints of kindness and genuine concern. May my heart touch a lonely neighbor... or a runaway daughter... or an anxious mother... or perhaps a dear friend! I shall go out today... to leave heartprints... and if some one should say... "I felt your touch!" May that one sense be... your loving touch through me!
OUR LOVE OUR LOVE IS A WHISPER- A TENDER QUIET UNDERSTANDING JUST BETWEEN THE TWO OF US OUR LOVE IS A SONG- A JOYFULL EXPRESSION OF THE HAPPINESS WE SHARE OUR LOVE IS A SIGH- A WARM CONTENTMENT, A DEEP FULLFILLMENT OUR LOVE IS- A DREAM COME TRUE FAR MORE THAN YOU COULD KNOW FAR MORE THAN WORDS CAN SAY YOU'RE ON MY MIND AND IN MY HEART WITH EVERY PASSING DAY YOU FILL MY LIFE WITH HAPPINESS. YOU'RE ALL MY DREAMS COME TRUE AND THERE'S NO GREATER JOY FOR ME THAN TO JUST BE WITH YOU
PLEASE HEAR WHAT I�M NOT SAYING Don�t be fooled by me. Don�t be fooled by the mask I wear. For I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I�m afraid to take off, And none of them are me. Pretending is an art that�s second nature to me, but don�t be fooled. For God�s sake, don�t be fooled. I give you the impression that I am secure, That all is sunny and unruffled within me, within as well as without, That confidence is my name, and coolness is my game, That the water�s calm and I�m in command and that I need no one. But don�t believe me. My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask, ever varying and ever concealing, Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion and fear and aloneness. But I hide this. I don�t want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That�s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated fa�ade, To help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation. My only hope and I know it. That is if it�s followed by acceptance, if it�s followed by love. It�s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, From my own self built prison walls, From the barriers I so painstakingly erect. It�s the only thing that will assure me of what I can assure myself, That I�m really worth something. But I don�t tell you this. I don�t dare. I�m afraid to. I�m afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love. I�m afraid you�ll think less of me, that you�ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I�m afraid that deep down I�m nothing, that I�m just no good, And that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a fa�ade of assurance without And a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I idly chatter with you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what�s everything, Of what�s crying within me. So when I�m going through my routine, Do not be fooled by what I am saying, Please listen carefully and try to hear what I�m not saying, What I�d like to be able to say, What for survival I need to say, But what I can�t say. I don�t like to hide. I don�t like to play superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me, but you�ve got to help me. You�ve got to hold out your hand, even if it�s the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me to aliveness. Each time you�re kind and gentle and encouraging, Each time you try to understand because you really care, My heart begins to grow wings, Very small wings, very feeble wings, But wings! With your power to touch me into feeling, you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, How you can be a creator- an honest to God creator of the person that is me If you chose to. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, You alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me of my shadow world of panic and uncertainty, From my lonely prison, If you choose to. Please choose to. Do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach to me the blinder I might strike back. It�s irrational, but despite what the books say about man, Often I am irrational. I fight against the very thing that I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, But with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive. Who am I you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet. And I am every woman you meet. By Charles C. Finn As quoted from Healing The Child Within, by Charles L. Whitfield M.D.
This is life This is reality. What is reality? And still there is life. There is love Love transforms into fear. Fear transforms into hope. Hope transforms into desire. And still there is fear. We all wait for the answer. When will we learn the question? We live and mature, We learn to cope and we die. When it seems our minds are strong, WE learn the question is why? IzaboHawk
The man whispered, "God, speak to me" and a meadowlark sang. But the man did not hear. So the man yelled "God speak to me!" And the thunder rolled across the sky. But the man did not listen. The man looked around and said, "God let me see you." And a star shined brightly. But the man did not notice. And the man shouted, "God show me a miracle!" And a life was born. But the man did not know. So the man cried out in despair, "Touch me God, and let me know you are here!" Whereupon, God reached down and touched the man, But the man brushed the butterfly away and walked on. Don't miss out on a blessing because it isn't packaged the way that you expect.
MY DECLARATION OF SELF-ESTEEM I AM ME In the entire world there is no one else exactly like me. There are persons who have some parts like me. But no one adds up exactly like me. Therefore, everything that comes out of me Is authentically mine because I alone chose it. I own everything about me. My body, including everything it does; my eyes, Including the images of all they behold; my feelings, Whatever they may be: anger, joy, frustration, love, disappointment, and excitement; My mouth, and all the words that come out of it: Polite, sweet or rough, correct or incorrect; my voice, loud or soft; And all my actions, whether they be to others or to myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, and my fears. I own all my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes, Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with me and all my parts. I can then make it possible for all of me to work in my best interests. I know there are aspects about myself that puzzle me, And other aspects I do not know. But as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for the solutions to the puzzles And for ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, And whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is me. This is authentic and represents where I am at that given moment in time. And how I thought and felt, some parts may turn out to be unfitting And invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, And to make sense and order out of the world and people and things outside me. I own me, and therefore I can engineer me. I am me and I am okay. The New People Making Virginia Satir c1973 Compliments of Linda Husband: Newconnections
