Like Drunken Cowboys
There’s a place inside my head where hurt never filters in,
A place to heal, where I can know I’m my own best friend,
Sometimes find it easier than facing reality,
Like drunken cowboys living without a dream.
Call me crazy; call me a fool, for shutting out the world.
I just need time to contemplate the way my life’s unfurled.
Wouldn’t want to take it out on everyone around
Like drunken cowboys tearing up the town.
I don’t want to think about forever,
Trying hard to make it through the storm.
Toughening my feelings into leather
Til it just doesn’t matter anymore.
Take a step back to a time when
Life was a free-for-all,
Where disagreements could always be settled in a barroom brawl,
Where consequences and concerns were not a high priority,
Like drunken cowboys living wild and free.
Dennis S Martin
There’s a place inside my head where hurt never filters in,
A place to heal, where I can know I’m my own best friend,
Sometimes find it easier than facing reality,
Like drunken cowboys living without a dream.
Call me crazy; call me a fool, for shutting out the world.
I just need time to contemplate the way my life’s unfurled.
Wouldn’t want to take it out on everyone around
Like drunken cowboys tearing up the town.
I don’t want to think about forever,
Trying hard to make it through the storm.
Toughening my feelings into leather
Til it just doesn’t matter anymore.
Take a step back to a time when
Life was a free-for-all,
Where disagreements could always be settled in a barroom brawl,
Where consequences and concerns were not a high priority,
Like drunken cowboys living wild and free.
Dennis S Martin
Website: http://www.iwritesome.com/
Storefront: www.lulu.com/dsmartin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like a Canvas
The canvas stands bare
waiting to be given life.
Calming pastel colors,
soft clouds floating in
a happy sky of blue.
Silver moon leading
stars though the night,
hope for tomorrow,
or a dark, raging sea,
tossing waves about,
no peace to find.
Life is like a canvas.
You the artist hold the brush.
Gail Livesay's passion is writing poetry but she also writes plays, fiction and non-fiction short stories and is currently revising her autobiography about growing up with bipolar disorder, which was neither recognized nor diagnosed. Gail has been published by Poetry as Prayer, Appalachian Women Speak, Breath and Shadow, a selection of her work was used as part of a production by New Mummers Group, USAdeepsouth, Oncology Times Applachian Women's Journal, Women on Earth, Appalachian Connection, Helium, Writers in the Sky E-zine, and LaChance publishing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One Morning Prayer
My goal today is to treat all life with respect and love.
To appreciate all the contrast I create;
it is my gift of awareness.
I will offer my service freely and graciously without hesitation or fear.
Find humor and laughter in my daily expressions and experiences.
Follow my impulses and make conscious choices.
Be spontaneous, energetic and enjoy each moment of the now.
Be grateful for the opportunity to expand my awareness.
Love myself as I love my source
as I inhale abundance and exhale appreciation.
Hal Manogue
From the 2009 Collection of Short Sleeves Spirit Songs: Echoes of Silence
http://www.shortsleeves.net/
http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part of the Promise
I was her friend before she was his wife.
They had a little baby; they had a great life.
We used to go line-dancing; we played golf.
We used to go to movies; we hung out.
Part of her promise to him was not running with me.
But sometimes here was where she wanted to be.
Then he got a little problem, getting stoned and getting high.
We had to get him in re-hab. At least we had to try.
I cashed a pay check; handed the money to him.
Take it, dude. Do you want to owe me or them?
Part of his promise was to understand her and me.
He wanted to be well, he wanted to be clean.
It worked; he’s better. One day at a time.
Some days are good; some, not-so; mostly, he’s fine.
We can start to stop worrying; we’ll get it back some day.
When I see their baby smile, I know we’re okay.
Part of his promise to me was being back in their life.
He knows I’ll always be her friend; he knows she’ll always be his wife.
Janice Bossing
Joelton, Tennessee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I Read the Last Page First
by Irene Brodsky, Poetry Unplugged
I was lost
Couldn't find my way
Then I opened the Good Book
I read the last page first
and knew I would be found.
No need to fret and worry
The answer was there
for all to see.
I read the last page first
and knew God would help me.
So when you are unsure
which way to turn,
take the short cut back home.
It's on the last page
and he'll be there for you, too!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Like a Canvas
The canvas stands bare
waiting to be given life.
Calming pastel colors,
soft clouds floating in
a happy sky of blue.
Silver moon leading
stars though the night,
hope for tomorrow,
or a dark, raging sea,
tossing waves about,
no peace to find.
Life is like a canvas.
You the artist hold the brush.
Gail Livesay's passion is writing poetry but she also writes plays, fiction and non-fiction short stories and is currently revising her autobiography about growing up with bipolar disorder, which was neither recognized nor diagnosed. Gail has been published by Poetry as Prayer, Appalachian Women Speak, Breath and Shadow, a selection of her work was used as part of a production by New Mummers Group, USAdeepsouth, Oncology Times Applachian Women's Journal, Women on Earth, Appalachian Connection, Helium, Writers in the Sky E-zine, and LaChance publishing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One Morning Prayer
My goal today is to treat all life with respect and love.
To appreciate all the contrast I create;
it is my gift of awareness.
I will offer my service freely and graciously without hesitation or fear.
Find humor and laughter in my daily expressions and experiences.
Follow my impulses and make conscious choices.
Be spontaneous, energetic and enjoy each moment of the now.
Be grateful for the opportunity to expand my awareness.
Love myself as I love my source
as I inhale abundance and exhale appreciation.
Hal Manogue
From the 2009 Collection of Short Sleeves Spirit Songs: Echoes of Silence
http://www.shortsleeves.net/
http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part of the Promise
I was her friend before she was his wife.
They had a little baby; they had a great life.
We used to go line-dancing; we played golf.
We used to go to movies; we hung out.
Part of her promise to him was not running with me.
But sometimes here was where she wanted to be.
Then he got a little problem, getting stoned and getting high.
We had to get him in re-hab. At least we had to try.
I cashed a pay check; handed the money to him.
Take it, dude. Do you want to owe me or them?
Part of his promise was to understand her and me.
He wanted to be well, he wanted to be clean.
It worked; he’s better. One day at a time.
Some days are good; some, not-so; mostly, he’s fine.
We can start to stop worrying; we’ll get it back some day.
When I see their baby smile, I know we’re okay.
Part of his promise to me was being back in their life.
He knows I’ll always be her friend; he knows she’ll always be his wife.
Janice Bossing
Joelton, Tennessee
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I Read the Last Page First
by Irene Brodsky, Poetry Unplugged
I was lost
Couldn't find my way
Then I opened the Good Book
I read the last page first
and knew I would be found.
No need to fret and worry
The answer was there
for all to see.
I read the last page first
and knew God would help me.
So when you are unsure
which way to turn,
take the short cut back home.
It's on the last page
and he'll be there for you, too!
No comments:
Post a Comment