early morning (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Up early
A little cranky
And creaky
Still tired
Can’t sleep
Wander out to the kitchen
Pour a cup of coffee ~
That first sip
And all is right with the world.
Tell me about a blissful moment………………
Up a Creek Without a Paddle
English: “The Red Canoe,” watercolor, by the American artist Winslow Homer. Courtesy of the Peabody Collection. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Casting off in a canoe without paddles
Unearthing a smooth slender but substantial twig
that reached to the
shallow bottom
She carefully steered the boat out into the pond.
The water was calm
The journey short ~
Success.
Bliss often comes from “making
do”. Have you ever found bliss by “making do”?
Starve a Little
I don’t think my fridge has ever been this messy (Photo credit: *Bitch Cakes*)
Sometimes I fill my fridge with food
And it is too full
And I cannot find anything
Sometimes my mind is the same way
It is too full
And I cannot find anything
I do not feel like cooking when my fridge is too full
There is too much choice
I cannot think when my mind is too full
There is too much choice
Sometimes we need to starve just a little
To find our creativity.
WINGS
Bird’s nest (Photo credit: TaranRampersad)
“To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.” ~ Pema Chodron
Pema’s words hit a chord and inspired my poem, for this the 24th day of Poem-A-Day:
Wings
Sometimes it feels as if my wings are clipped
But when I am thrown out of the nest
I find I can still take flight
It was all in my mind…………
Have you ever found your bliss when you freed your mind?
Worship
Inca Trail (Photo credit: Pedro Martino)
What is that
Sneaking in through the slats
Of the shutters on my dining room windows?
My cat found a place to sit in its slanted presence
In front of the open door~
I am feeling more cheery, zesty even
Could it be?
Tell me it is so—
Has the sun finally decided to show its shiny face?
I am almost afraid to utter its name
Afraid it will be scared away
To hide behind the clouds again
Sun (Photo credit: DBduo Photography)
Its rays lost in the mysterious ether.
I understand the Incas now.
Is the sun showing its face in your neck of the woods–sometimes bliss is just enjoying the sunshine.
Lake Erie Fairies
Illustration of fairies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Dazzling sunlight dances
on the water; crystals form ~
Fairies brought to light.
Not Really A Very Good Poem
‘Tis the eve of my birthday
One of those birthdays that end in a 0
So for some reason are deemed more significant
Than most other birthdays.
Sometimes birthdays that end in 5 are major hurdles
but not usually until you reach 65
Though 25 is an exception ~
A few others that seem noteworthy are 18, 19, and 21
Admittedly
13 is a milestone, and sweet 16 too
Happy Birthday to You! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
But what about all the other years?
Why are 31, 41, 51 and my next year’s birthday less remarkable?
I have decided that every year and every age is important
And am going to celebrate each and every one as if they ended in O!
(Okay, this writing a poem a day is getting a little long in the tooth—today shows the definite strain of trying to come up with something close to acceptable—but hey, I am still hanging in there, though today it seems only by the skin of my teeth). I am trusting you will not be too hard on me.
Bliss is sometimes putting it out there even if it is not quite up to par — sometimes you have to settle for good enough. Do you agree?
Politically Incorrect Wonder Years
Wonder Bread Hometown Fresh Sign (Photo credit: joseph a)
As politically incorrect
as a bologna sandwich
on white bread
with mayo or mustard or sometimes both
topped with iceberg lettuce
and cut into dainty quarters
accompanied by salted potato chips
on a styrofoam plate.
Gulping down a coke
with its empty sweet but oh so delicious calories
while watching TV
a rarity in my childhood house
where most meals were served
at the dining room table ~
meals that included meat and potatoes
and a side of vegetables or two and a salad
on china plates.
Dessert (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
And in those days dessert ~
because my father
who expected little, did expect dessert.
Bliss then was
a rare sandwich for supper
instead of the usual heavy healthy fare
and the best sandwich of all
was politically incorrect.
What did you eat that gave you bliss when you were a kid (or even now) that seems out of step with our nutrition crazed (and rightly so) world?
Related articles
- Days Gone By (onthehomefrontandbeyond.wordpress.com)
- Day 5- Oh my GOD…SUGAR!!! Just give me something sweet! Is dessert okay? (cavemandad.wordpress.com)
My Safe Harbour
Trees (Photo credit: @Doug88888)
MY TREE
No longer in the backyard of my childhood home
My tree lives on only in my memory.
In yesteryear
I would climb into my tree everyday
and sit in its generous crook,
my back leaning against the rough bark of the trunk.
The branches formed a canopy
shadowing the sun
A breeze would rustle the leaves ~
and I would settle in with a book
or just observe the world
whiling away an endless summer afternoon.
I was sad to see one day
when I went to visit the place where my beloved tree once reigned
that it was gone.
But,
the vivid memories remain
of sunlit days sitting in my tree
safe and apart, yet one with the realm ~
Venerable tree (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I ruled the world from its safe harbour.
Remembered bliss–is there anything better? Do you have a childhood memory of bliss that stands out?
Related articles
- These Trees (humorhappens.wordpress.com)
- Requiem for a Sycamore and Poplar Tree (beebeesworld.wordpress.com)
Hope Springs Eternal
hope (Photo credit: mindfulness)
“A writer is not a writer because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, because everything she does is golden. In my view, a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.” ~ Junot Diaz
Love this quote and the fact that it applies to all of us, not just writers. Tell me if you agree that it applies even if you change it to read: when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you just keep on anyway.
I tend to think that there is always hope, but agree that we should keep on, even if hope seems to have taken a vacation without us.
Do you agree that bliss is never giving up on hope? No matter how dim, or how hard it tries to hide?
Poem for Day 17:
Hope
Hope is the hold out
The one thing that can be diminished
Only by lack of faith
