(Poem 155 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
What goes up
might come down,
depending on the
amount of fun
being had by the
bouncers involved,
the relative weight
of giggles to the
equal and opposite
force of carefree-ness
being exerted,
tempered only by
the exuberant joy
of breathless
collapse.
@Home Studio – 155th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Trampoline photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 154 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
The darkening sky
has balled up her fists,
begun to glower,
and let her rage roil.
The sudden assault
when she unleashes
a torrent is surprising
for its violent beauty.
@Home Studio – 154th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Sudden Storm photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 149 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“Clues that fall out of the sky are messages from spirit, but you must be alert to catch them.” – Merlin, The Way of the Wizard
The laws of nature
answer to no man.
Striking a match creates a flame.
Lightning fells a tree.
The sun entices the earth to pirouette.
We are all caught in complex
webs of cause and effect,
a butterfly effect
of chaos unfolding
smoothly.
Synchronicities,
narrow escapes,
answered prayers,
divine coincidences,
lucky accidents,
the knowing of intuition—
all are clues you’ve
left so you’ll recognize
yourself through the
disguise of the material.
We must respect the mystery,
but pursue it ruthlessly
if we hope to find what
we don’t even know we seek.
@Home Studio – 149th poem of the year
Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.116-122.
Runner ups for the divine coincidence photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 148 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
When Jennifer gets hangry,
people better watch out.
She’s usually quite docile,
but whoo can she shout.
The slightest little noise
can make her head explode.
If a breeze blows too strong,
she starts croaking like a toad.
Once she reaches that point,
there’s nothing you can do,
except pass her a plate of nachos,
a hamburger, a taco, or two.
@Home Studio – 148th poem of the year
(Poem 144 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Little Miss Muffet
sat on a tuffet,
eating her curds and whey;
along came a spider,
who sat down beside her,
and frightened Miss Muffet away.
The very next day
she came out to play,
determined to overcome fear;
the spider returned,
and Miss Muffet learned,
to say hello with cheer.
Now that she’s older,
Miss Muffet is bolder,
and nothing affects her outlook;
she stays outside,
takes everything in stride,
and continues reading her book.
@Home Studio – 144th poem of the year
(Poem 143 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
“The straight lines of time are actually threads of a web extending to infinity.” – Deepak Chopra’s The Way of the Wizard
No matter where I go,
there I am, at the center
of my universe, with
every vector of possibility
extending outward to
infinity and beyond.
When I can settle and
still the turmoil of my
soul, I can see the heavens
in my own being.
I know the sun does
not truly rise in the sky,
nor is the horizon the
edge of the world, yet
I live as though I believe
the earth is flat and this
is all there is to my being.
It is a lie that the past
creates the present and
the present creates the
future, when memories
of the future can inform
the present and change
my very perception of
the past I thought I knew.
I can live tomorrow’s
dream today if only I
choose to look beyond
the veil and accept that
I am a wizard, rather than
a human bound by fate.
I am the relationship
between nowhere and
now here because I have
localized eternity to this
point in time and choose
to focus on this present.
@Home Studio – 143rd poem of the year
Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp.109-115.
Runner ups for the Eternity photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 141 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
One minute she’s harvesting
seeds from dried flowers she
plucked from her own garden,
the next she’s trying on new
nails she got on sale from her
latest favorite glamour website.
She flits around handling
five children clamoring like
baby birds for her food and
her praise because nothing
is better than Erica approval.
Through it all she’s telling stories,
sharing the latest gossip, and
exclaiming such things as
I can’t,
ain’t nobody got time for that,
go lay down,
I got time today,
who are you talkin’ to,
not on my watch,
I can hear you, you know,
the call is coming from inside the house,
get somebody else to do it,
boy, bye,
they’re all broken.
And we laugh and cry and
sip tea and share our lives.
@Home Studio – 141st poem of the year
(Poem 139 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
I started back swimming,
well, this illusion of me that
is twice as big as the real
me who is surprised every
time I look in the mirror
and see a fat lady there.
She is a lovely fat lady,
don’t get me wrong,
she has a kind expression and
sincere eyes that seem a little
sad the way they turn down.
Her face is not memorable,
but that is nothing new
since I often don’t recognize
people by their faces alone.
I need to see the way she
moves through the water
where even the biggest
sea turtles can float.
@Home Studio – 139th poem of the year
(Poem 137 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My cat and I had a little talk
before she went into surgery.
I was warned by the vet that
this could be the end for Beauty.
Her heart is now much weaker,
not as strong as it once was.
Removing the growths on her
chest might need to be put on pause.
But my sweet girl is miserable,
I can tell because I know her well.
She needs help, comfort, relief,
my poor lovely, gentle belle.
I told her she’s been so strong,
served as my constant friend.
It’s time for her to rest for now;
let her body have time to mend.
@Home Studio – 137th poem of the year
(Poem 136 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
My husband gifted me a forest
and a clearing of pale blue sky.
I keep it nestled in my cell phone
to comfort me any time I cry.
He knows I love tall evergreens
and can hide there in the woods,
take refuge from the scary world,
forget all the coulds and shoulds.
When the leaves begin to rustle
and whisper their daytime thoughts,
they ease my troublesome worries
and smooth out all my gnarled knots.
The few seconds of rest I find
in this tranquil space of peace
soothe my soul, calm my nerves,
and help my anxieties cease.
@Home Studio – 136th poem of the year
rebekahjmarshall 