Archive for category the good
a higher swing
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on August 12, 2011
an unworthy thought
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations, the understanding on June 21, 2011
Now and then your name or your words cross my mind.
In the midst of trying to find the words that never come –
An expression of what you meant to me,
What I would have done for you,
And what you are missing now –
I suddenly realize that the kindness I pay you
by simply remembering your name
Is more thought than you ever gave to me or my happiness.
making fruit
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations, the understanding on January 27, 2011
Love is not a bowl of oranges.
Its fruits are devoured quickly.
A race against the spoiling sun.
The bowl is left behind.
Empty.
Love is an orange tree.
Its fruits are cherished,
Handled delicately
Leaving only few with bruises.
Collected conservatively
Leaving none to spoil in the sun.
In time, with rich nourishment
Plenty of water, and diligent care
The tree will yield great fruit
To be devoured or savored
As often as you please.
two opposing lessons
Posted by Daniel in the bad, the good, the needs, the observations, the understanding on January 23, 2011
I’m realizing now, more than ever, that I have a really hard time simply asking for what I want.
I’m not the kind of person to blame my own faults on past circumstances, but it does help to go over what might have reinforced bad thinking.
I’ve always had low self-esteem. Slowly, in one life area at a time, that’s getting better. But this personal stuff (friends, love, sex, etc), that’s still the last part to go.
walking puzzle pieces
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations, the understanding on November 2, 2010
Last Sunday I took a walk: almost two hours, almost five miles, just for me. This is how it went.
(All of the images were edited and the text written in the tiny spaces of free time I have that surrounds and otherwise hectic life. It’s probably very disjointed. So if something doesn’t flow well or doesn’t quite make sense, please let me know and I’ll refine it over the next few weeks.)
rain is required
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations on July 28, 2010
Nothing grows without the rain. It washes away. It nourishes. It sustains life. Anyone who isn’t enjoying the rain is either dead or finding it through some other, filtered, managed, controlled means.
So that’s the question: How do you want your rain? How do you want your life? Filtered, packaged in a bottle with a pretty label, and costing more than many people have for all of their sustenance for an entire week? Or straight out of the sky, scooped out of rivers, falling down your face, and dripping off the ends of your hair, mixed in with fits of laughter, impromptu races where the winner doesn’t matter, and faded t-shirts clinging to the heaving, breathing, living, satisfied chests of children?
old words with new meaning
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on July 20, 2010
You were just a child. You had boyfriend pants, brightly dyed hair, both of your nipples pierced, and your head tilted toward the world. Your sweet, flowing innocence was evident in every looped “l”, every dotted “i”, and every praise for an unsmoked cigarette.
the first show
We were not underscored by the racing sound
of freeway cars.
But instead, by the rush of blood in ears.
We were not lit by the sodium orange light
of a parking lot.
But the star light was at just the right angle.
We did not have the solid metal support
of a car door.
Though we both found something strong to lean against.
In the urgency of the laugh that never came
we realized we didn’t really need
a dress rehearsal.
Instead, we called it opening night.
fat free kisses
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on May 17, 2010
[I've been writing a lot of poetry lately. Little snippets mostly. Bits waiting to be grown into something bigger. But they are less fun locked away and unshared. And no thought is really ever finished. So, here they are, still growing...]
Our hands were clasped to hold the liner notes of sad songs we sang together.
I’m a sucker for a soft, sad song, don’t get me wrong. But, no matter how soft
or how thick, a blanket of sadness just doesn’t keep me warm at night.
In the end, all we really had is a handful of wishes and far far too much sadness.
So you can call this whatever you want but I’m throwing your toothbrush away.
and I’m building the rest of my life on blocks of happiness.
a beautiful storm
I only hope
that the storms stay for one more night –
the quiet tip-tap turning
to roaring and pounding then
back to tip-tap again.
I only dream
of rain drops speckled on the shoulders
that lean so comfortably into me,
hair clinging to the sides of your face
in the same paths that I would
draw my fingers down again and again.
I only wish
that when the storm lifts
the moon is shining full
upon curves now glistening
in the blueish light.
The secure rise and fall of breath –
the peace of being that sits
before the next beautiful storm.