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"poetry"

Success is When You Win (repost)

The Pelican

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His mouth can hold more than his belly can,
He can hold in his beak,
Enough food for a week!
I'm damned if I know how the hell he can!

-Dixon Lanier Merritt, a Southern newspaper editor and President of the American Press Humorists Association, penned this famous limerick in 1910. It is carved in stone and displayed prominently at Brook Green gardens in SC.

Watching several Pelicans feed in the tributaries of Murrells Inlet, SC, I was taken by how often they fail to catch fish. It is fairly easy to mark a successful dive, as the stately bird will raise its beak skyward to send the fish wiggling down its gullet. I began keeping score. I counted a total of twenty five dives between four birds and could only verify a catch seven times. With a slightly better than 25% success rate, these gobbling fowl still are known as great fishers.

I guess nature confirms the old saying, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

1. Hunger for something will keep you trying.
2. The pain of failure is quickly forgotten once the benefits of success arrive.
3. Never give up.

Amusing Awareness





Why do you remain
There
A brush by my world
Radiating
Passion against my senses
Leaving
Me longing for more

Your voice sang today
Mournful
Lyrics of loss and hope
Ascending
Tones of fluttering union
Scattered
Eternally within my mind

Uncomfortable hauntings...

Skinned



Skinned

The layers peel
With a severe ease
Sub-dermal lament resides
Desire

Peeling

Cracking drafts of promises
Too familiar, too simple
Latent memory unveiled
Need

Peeling, peeling

Like dead skin from a sunburned thigh.

Word Mire



Word Mire

there is too much
written
that only scratches the surface of it
like the cats claws picking
shredding cashmere as if it were
an old rug

too many words
written
that only pretend passion
like roadside clay jars
imitating ancient Greek
vases


there are so many words
written
that define verbosely beauty
 sprayed out like tobacco spit
dried on the edges of a saloon
cuspidor

there are too many words
written
that I must wade through
fighting mundane currents
insipid tidal pools spawning
muck

there are too many words
written
around those few gems, crystals
that find their way through the morass
and glisten delicate hues of
you

there are too many words
written
that must be read
and I have lost
the time
the patience
the heart
to read my way to you
now

Social Media Me



Twitter
tweets #scream
RTs mark my mind
@slapping my humor
taunting my @attention
Facebook!
look what @she said
funny pictures
another #page to #Like
that should be on LinkedIn, too
LinkedIn!
a mention of my @business
my expertise must be seen
Plz RT!
my domain claimed, reiterate
duplicate, repurpose content
again, repeat
#retweetupdatepost

then
there is no room
nothing left for

reflection
resting
in the arms of con-tem-plation

no room for
being still
stillness, in this place - now
creative

i'm starved
(HEY! i should #tweetPostUpdate that...)

In from the Sea

In defiance of the cold and snow...



In From the Sea

When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear the
crackle of palm fronds breaking free from the heat
hiss of sea oats defiantly bowing inland
whisper of sand celebrating its lofty release from gravity
sputter of foam cascading skyward cut from wave caps
chime of delicate shells dancing across dunes
When the wind blows in from the sea you can hear
The prayers of ancient mariners reaching home

Viscosity - About a word and a poem



Viscosity is one of those wonderful words that sounds and speaks much like it means to me. It doesn't flip off the tongue. It requires more effort, more intent to pronounce viscosity.

Depression always makes me think of trying to move through life dressed in a wet, wool blanket. Every effort is increased and life has an unrelenting cool dampness about it. You can't just try harder and get through. It accompanies you when you move and when you give up.

Those times when life is tuned less intensely, but still something resists you are well described as moments of high viscosity. Some relationships are viscous.

Our Viscosity

Viscous interactions
Entwined emotions
Caught

I would want to leave
I would desire relief
Released

Such effort defines
Our togetherness
Lost

Recovery - A Poem About Personal Growth



Recovery 

It is so strange to look
One day
And find broken and rusted
Upon the floor
The shackles that once bound
Me
And I wonder
How long I have been holding
Myself prisoner
And I wonder
How long it has been since
I danced

Another Poem - Relationships and Such



in these pretty things

in these pretty things
these broken fragments
of our dreams, hopes, courage
the light does sparkle
a bit

in these pretty things
these shattered shards
of our faith, ideas, will
the shimmers do run
on us

in these pretty things
these scattered particles
of you, me, us
the flickers of memories
are born

Chalk It Up - Poetry Between Us

A big creative nod to Nevine over at DREAMS, DELIRIUMS, AND OTHER MIND TALK for some creative inspiration and that explains this...


Chalk It Up

sometimes our love is like
chalk upon the sidewalk
secrets etched in broad daylight
proclaiming us
then
washed away in the evening shower
faded swirls await the new day
and dry to powder pale.