At first sight you were Covered in feathers not fur. This sounds peculiar, But if you knew you’d concur.
My sarcastic wit Seems to have been a big hit. The feathers all fell What a tale to tell.
Time continues on But you are far from a crone. Unless I suspect Your wish might be to protect. Here I stand fully erect. Of all of you I respect. ~*~
Your charms are many
In morn, day, or at night,
Watch out or you’ll miss.
Think to yourself, do you know what I’m asking Do I give you your dreams, through your rose colored eyes Clearing your mind, with each breath that you’re taking Can you break with a smile, through the sands of our lives
Hearts are breaking, in distant worlds of wonder Why does it have to be, though for years it has been Shaking the hold, with a moment of thunder Can you see the days, know you always will win
Temporary moments of silence and solo Does it matter if quiet rules over the day What does it matter as long as we both know We’re going together in the same along way
I want the minutes to pass like lightning With seconds non-existent in time of the realm Reality breaks me into pieces somewhat frightening But I pull myself up nothing to me overwhelm
You may miss the every second of every moment When I fall down and cannot get up to stand But don’t worry about me breaking I’m only gently bent I’m fine as long as there is a glimmer, a hint, a strand
Hope is the future of a wasted past’s happenings Future is the hope of a today’s receding sands of the shore Never give up on me as I ramble in blatherings I’ll be here and there through the music of our hearts’ beat score
Sometimes you need to lose a connection to find a connection. One you have may not be the one you need. Once that one is lost, or ended, a new one may enter your life. Connections come and go. Don’t dwell on the lost ones. Focus on the ones not yet made, or the one newly made that may have been the reason for your existence.
Always be open and aware of words and actions. Combined they can tell you the truth. If they conflict, so long. If they agree, then awesome.
This is another entry for the #BeWoW and #1000Speak for today dealing with Connecting.
Next Door Long Distance Brick Walls No Resistance Coping All Always Well Frequent Falls Temporary Hell Within Sight Within Sound Wishing Blind Heaven Found No Reason Every Moment Forgotten Purpose Eternal Appointment Madness Mayhem Quiet Peace Constant Pain Sweet Release Decision Made Belonging Heart Leaving Away Never Apart
On Valentine’s Day I wrote something titledLasting. (A Confession of Want.) There were a couple of comments left and the reaction was fairly nice for a Saturday post. I thought those who enjoyed reading that confession of tongue exhausting pleasure would like to know the inspiration for said Confession. Admittedly chocolate might not have come to mind when reading my post and I will further admit that I now understand why chocolate is a substitute for some regarding other delightful pleasures. There is a feeling that spreads through every part of your body as the chocolate melts slowly in your mouth, coats your tongue and then travels down. If one lets their mind and imagination run away and closes their eyes other thoughts do come to mind. I greatly enjoy chocolate, the real kind or the kind it replaces. Both are delightful tastes and satisfying.
I do hope you share if you like.
And I enjoy people following me here and wherever else you may find me. May your thoughts be filled with pleasure of every kind as mine are of you.
Sometimes I look and search for a story to tell. Walk down the same lines, find I’m unwell. But is that really the case of what I really and truly am to be? Or is it something else other people have planned for me? I know I’m not great inside, making confessions and fail. But does that mean that I am really unwell? Only time will tell.
Music, songs, lyrics and their meanings. Anyone that can write a novel in the space of a chorus and a few verses has my envy. Some people have said I should do something with some of my lyrical poetry. Can’t write or play music so that’s kind of a brick wall. Besides, my story is always the same.
Today’s song came out of left field. I was not really feeling any of the Beatles songs I was looking at and I really wanted a song writer. Billy Joel was suggested but then one of the best song writers of the modern era came to mind and I ended up with Rob Thomas and Matchbox Twenty. It helps I’ve seen them in concert at least twice.
Unwell.
On the live DVD Show: A Night in the Life of Matchbox Twenty, Rob Thomas states that he wrote the song as a metaphor for humanity in general, a song for people who are “messed up and feel alone like that. We all feel a little messed up sometimes… you’re not alone.”-Wikipedia
I just rediscovered this song today. As I read the lyrics, as I do first when looking for a song to connect to and share, every line hit with me. Though I don’t ride the train, being in public in lines of any type is a train of sorts.
Wearing sunglasses everywhere I go and earplugs 24 hours a day 7 days a week and in public draws glances and kids stare at you. You hear the whispers. “What’s wrong with that man?” Up to that point you trick yourself into thinking nothing is wrong.
I don’t remember things from before but I know feelings of situations. For a man who at one time total strangers would say “You stay here near that man while I run into the restroom” at an amusement park now being that man that there is something wrong with, that’s the unwell part. It’s not the actual problem that is the problem, it’s the problem people make out of the problem that’s the problem. That’s what makes me unwell.
Reading the lyrics, yeah I stare at the ceiling, finding those familiar shadows. I know where the spot that reminds me of a puppy is. I also can look at the designs in the floor and find the clown face or the robot.
Am I headed for a breakdown? Probably. I haven’t stepped over that line yet but I can see it and the chalk has been blurred a bit. I am unwell. I discover how to be well but then unwell happens. Sure, I’ve become the master of appearances. Look at Rob Thomas. All those lines inside of him. He taps into something to come up with these great lyrics. Great lyrics come from a genuine place. Is Rob unwell, or was he when he wrote this song? How is he now?
I’ve resigned myself to unwell. I’m okay with it. I don’t sleep much. Sometimes none, sometimes 2 hours. Occasionally I will get 5 in. Less than 4 is the norm. The rest of the time is spent writing and reading, both of which I am not really supposed to be doing if I want to be well. But you know what?
No Way Am I going to stare at the ceiling All Day Waiting for the Break Down Everyone knows is on the way.
Stop comparing me, To who I used to be.
All day staring at the ceiling Making friends with shadows on my wall All night hearing voices telling me That I should get some sleep Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on Feeling like I’m headed for a breakdown And I don’t know why
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell I know right now you can’t tell But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see A different side of me I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired I know right now you don’t care But soon enough you’re gonna think of me And how I used to be, me
I’m talking to myself in public Dodging glances on the train And I know, I know they’ve all been talking about me I can hear them whisper And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me Out of all the hours thinking Somehow I’ve lost my mind
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell I know right now you can’t tell But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see A different side of me I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired I know right now you don’t care But soon enough you’re gonna think of me And how I used to be
I’ve been talking in my sleep Pretty soon they’ll come to get me Yeah, they’re taking me away
But I’m not crazy, I’m just a little unwell I know right now you can’t tell But stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see A different side of me I’m not crazy, I’m just a little impaired I know right now you don’t care But soon enough you’re gonna think of me And how I used to be
Hey, how I used to be How I used to be Well, I’m just a little unwell How I used to be How I used to be I’m just a little unwell
An excerpt from a novel I am currently revising. The words are those of the leading man writing to the woman he loves during a low point. I am finally embracing writing Romance and Love that I have been avoiding writing in novel form for so long. The book was written last year, but has been marinating since then. Now I am ready to make a go of it. Wish me well on this journey.
Do you ever wonder what God thinks of your looks? Or maybe you wonder if God favors those fashion model types over the . . . whatever other types you can think of . . . like . . . those who eat a hamburger and fries or pizza once a week maybe. It’s sad to say that some models aren’t even good enough any longer to the point that companies are photoshopping them thinner. I think it used to just be airbrushing marks or wrinkles.
Why even bother hiring models? Why don’t they just have CGI models and be done with it?
Jesus was perfect. Have you ever thought how Jesus looked? Do you think he looked like the Jesus from the Son of God movie?
Did you know the Bible describes the Messiah’s physical appearance?
“Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.”-Isaiah 53:1-3
After reading this passage it made so much sense that Jesus would not be the Brad Pitt of the ancient world. To follow Jesus you needed to follow him because you believed, not because you thought he was some above the norm handsome guy.
God knows the real you, the real way you look regardless of what you do to change. I know some young people that, as healthy young people look amazing but they wanted to fit in with the anorexic set because they thought that’s what was popular. As starving trying to fit in young people they just lost that healthy sparkle they had. The energy was gone and their eyes didn’t shine any longer.
God sent Jesus to save you as you are. He died for you as you are. No matter how pretty you are or what shape you are in, God deemed you worthy enough and beautiful enough to send Jesus to die for you, and Jesus agreed to do it. Think about it.
What’s a Taboo to do? Do you click ‘like’ on Taboo articles?
by: Ronovan
Wow, that was so amazing but I don’t want people to know I read that. Admit it, that’s come to your mind before. You may have quickly overcome it but it’s been there. I read a very short piece that was sexual I nature but there was no sex. It was hilarious and a part of it was so surprising and different that I was impressed. But if I clicked ‘like’ then people would know I read it AND liked it.
What’s a poor introverted gentleman to do?
To some of you it’s a no-brainer. “Just click like, you wimp,” you are saying. “You hypocrite, if you like it then like it.” True, very true, every word of it. I usually do end up with the click. But I put a lot of thought into it. One thing it normally comes down to is;
Why did the person write the piece?
I am not into people who write to capitalize on something, or write to simply draw hits. If then I think the piece was written for that reason then I don’t tend to ‘like’ it. Traffic on one’s site is the important factor for most, although the ‘likes’ are the encouraging nudges.
But back to the point, should we be embarrassed? I am of the mind that writing is an art form. If someone brushes letters onto their page and creates a tasteful picture on their page then ‘like’ it. As an artist, and as an author who creates imagery with your words you are an artist, you cannot be embarrassed by things.
I am not saying to out and ‘like’ everything that comes along just because you find it amusing. Like it because it brought something to you, be it thought, humor, that ah ha moment, inspiration, whatever it is.
And one last thing; in poetry you may be misinterpreting the meaning of the words in the first place. I have poems that have received a few likes. I know the meanings, no they are not weird twisted meanings, but the words could be seen to have different meanings when I looked back at them. It wasn’t intentional, but just happened.
Are you embarrassed? If so what types of things embarrass you or what do you do when faced with that moment of “This is incredible!”?
ronovanwrites 