Long Talks and Sidewalks

Long Talks and Sidewalks

Rainbows and ponies don’t do anything for me.
Don’t bring me cut flowers and expect me to smile and swoon.
I don’t need material things to stimulate a feeling,
Or simulate some other notion of how a girl should feel.
I don’t need perpetual sunshine either.
Life is boring, life is long.
The cracks in the sidewalk are where things are interesting.
The pain of falling down and the process of getting up again are the things that matter.
Look me in the eyes and give me your words.
Give me your time.
Tell me your story.
Those are the things I want.
And in return I’ll walk beside you.
And we shall help each other up again,
When we fall.
And on and on,
Until the sidewalk ends.

78050495

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2017-07-11 When in Portland

When in Portland

Today we did what people in Portland do
And went to have donuts at the VooDoo.
Today we did what people in Portland do
And walked up and down 3rd Avenue

We spied some parks and a fountain too.
We ate at a food truck or two.
We did the things that people here do
Because when you’re in Portland that’s what you do.

Then we jumped in the car and drove away
Out of the city about mid-day.
We followed the nav and what did it say?
Take 84 East for a new place to play.

When we arrived at the falls we looked up to the sky
The water was coming from so very high
Should we hike it? Yes, we just have to try.
We did not come this far to just say goodbye.

When the sun started setting we headed back west
Time for some food and a nice place to rest.
We found a good spot, perhaps not the best
It been just lovely so far, being Oregon’s guest.

Yes today has been full, it’s been tried it’s been true.
There is so much too see here, so much to do
Today we did what people in Portland do
Tomorrow it’s off to the coast for a different view.

***

Best moment of the day… Walking on 3rd avenue when my 15 year old daughter and 13 year old son both held my hand as we walked. I can’t help but be grateful they still want to hold my hand at this age and I also think it may be one of the last times they will both want to. So wonderful.

Best quote of the day… Z: I think there is a skunk near the trail. Me: Um, chances are HIGH that is not a skunk! 😛 (then she punches my arm).

It’s only day one of our little adventure and already it has been so great. I’m excited to see what tomorrow brings.

Peace and Love,
Shyspark

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Shapes

Shapes

There’s a triangle in the mind’s eye
Each point leads to the next
And then back to the first
A cycle of spinning
Like a well oiled, finely tuned
Rotary engine.
When it hums it’s sweet music
But like all machines,
It will break down with time.

There are circles at the temple of the world
One ring completely inside the next
And on and on.
On the inside there are secrets
Not yet revealed
A paragon of existence
That we can know of it
Yet not be allowed to enter
Forever traveling the curve.

There are stars above and beyond
Countless and nameless
Endless points of light that exist
Beyond the circles
Outside our triangle lines.
Infinite possibilities
Manifested in two dimensions
As simple shapes
We are too primitive to describe.

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The Mariner

The Mariner

What would become of a tale one tells
With ancient word and rhyme,
Not really of the here and now
But of its own space and time?

A fair prediction, it shall be said
Is that the song falls on deaf ears,
And the world, now quick, no longer home
For one who stops and hears.

A flower plucked has its fate sealed
By those who look upon it
But can a large work tell it better
Than a simple sonnet?

My answer’s “no”, but I’m just one
Whose fate is also sealed
For this is where my heart is home
And by nature not revealed.

But alas good hope, another twist
Has brought The Mariner to me
And I find my own kind of light
In a tale about the sea.

The albatross and life-in-death
And every vision from each verse,
In passion spoken with rhyme not broken
Of wedding guest and curse.

This book survived alone to find me
A century for this one hour of need,
My faith restored, my purpose clear
A question asked has an answer indeed.

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My Perfect Sunset Sky

My Perfect Sunset Sky

I’m so sorry for trying to make you out to be
A puzzle piece
Rounded edges to fit certain curves
In the color of burnt sienna
A fairy-tale ending moment
To complete the picture of my perfect sunset sky.

I’m still reminded daily of something lost
A random song forever haunted by
The unknown road we traveled.
I was once so in love with you, with us.
Lulled into the gaps where we could be
Us without the weight of all the world.

But the world is heavy and full of stones
And people can’t live inside the gaps
And that picture I had in my head of life
I guess, is just a fantasy.
The kind you say it’s OK to dream of
Even if it is something that can never be.

Still we had night trains and starry skies
Togwotee and color changing eyes
Those are moments that I will always own
And I will never regret how and when we started
Even if I’m forever broken hearted
Incomplete without my missing piece, alone.

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Water

Water 
The current like time
Always flowing without fail
Smooths a jagged stone.
***
This post was inspired by the Writing 201 (Day 1) Prompt: Water, Haiku, Simile
Theme: Water
Style: Haiku (definitely not one of my favorites).
Technique: Simile
wateroverrocks

Photo Source: Jess Gibbs from JessGibbsPhotography

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Center Stage

Center Stage

The road that I traveled was troubled and long
Each turn that I took could have been terribly wrong
But somehow I managed
To not get too damaged
And I found my way the end of that song.

Now the sun’s shining down as I stand under my bonnet
It’s greening the grass as I look upon it
My heart all a flutter
My voice in a stutter
Reciting my journey; words captured in sonnet.

I’m telling my story for the whole world to hear
I’m facing the crowd despite of my fear
As I finish the rhyme
I’m suspended in time
My soul lifted high by the sound of their cheer.

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Idle Music

Idle Music

Tapping, snapping, closed fist knuckles rapping,
playing out the tune thats stuck up in your head.
In the car, barely moving,
your thumbs are thumping the steering wheel instead.

Idle moments filled with sound
by busy digits thinking when your not.
Strumming, drumming, when life’s not forthcoming,
making music on the spot.

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