Big With Wonder

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“Because philosophy arises from awe,

a philosopher is bound in his way

to be a lover of myths and poetic fables.

Poets and philosophers are alike

in being big with wonder.”

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~ Thomas Aquinas

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Elfje:         (Cinquain)

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awe

don’t wonder

off too far

you might get lost

curiosity

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Senryu:      5-7-5 ( Haiku with people and their emotions/feelings as a topic)

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love is the feeling

not always a two way street

do-over allowed

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Poem:

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my heart went out to Rebecca Joy
a puppy love with mixed emotions
she was the queen, I was the toy
she was the object of all of my devotions

my dreamy lust chased after Amanda Sue
raging hormones of the blooming youth
she saw me as another animal in the zoo
my gratification was not always the truth

third time was a charm, John Barleycorn
loved the feeling, out of control
he loved me back, I thought I was reborn
his was a life sentence, no chance for parole

love turned black, I hated myself
false relationships with drinking partners
selecting booby prizes from the bottom shelf
blaming others, we all became accusers

God did for me what I could not do
I awoke among a gaggle of drunks
they put me on a boat with a sober crew
new feeling arose, starting with goose bumps

cleared the wreckage of the past
began the relationship with a new self
unconditional at first, finally, a new love at last
new prizes selected from the top shelf

new relationships that no longer begin with me, me, me
learned to listen, keep the mouth shut, began to see
one day at a time, knowing gratitude is the key
serene and peaceful is what I want to be

love now comes in all shapes, sizes and names
hopefully I can remember a few of them
following the philosophy of William James*
being grateful for what God has let me become

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ME and the Boss

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*Acceptance of what has happened
is the first step to overcoming the
consequences of any misfortune.
~ William James
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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.wordpress.com

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Advertisement

The Language Of The Soul

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“Poetry is the language of the soul;

Poetic Prose, the language of my heart.

Each line must flow as in a song,

and strike a chord that rings forever.

To me, words are music!”

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― Lori R. Lopez

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Elfje:           (Cinquain)

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swearing

in vain

not an oath

very poor language skills

vulgarities

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Haiku:

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crickets loud chirping

pollen thick enough to see

soon summer will bloom

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Poem:

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he skipped the rock across the pond
reflecting how his life did the same
with each touch ripples were spawned
like scions to carry on the family name

the undulations distorted his reflection
his memory was likewise confused
wandering, he sought some direction
his soul was very tired and abused

he was not growing old gracefully
he regretted the youth he had wasted
the ego was always acting ostentatiously
his habit was to always be inebriated

could there be another way of living
would another fox hole prayer work
should the world be forgiving
was this the prelude to going berserk

in real life there are no coincidences
a man with a plan crossed his path
just another of God’s mysterious incidents
a solution to calming his insane wrath

there was a book to give him guidance
a fellowship to welcome him home
he learned to live within the silence
how to survive the complex syndrome

holding on to his new found discovery
enjoying the life of a blessed recovery

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ME and the Boss

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https://michaelerb.wordpress.com

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https://meandtheboss.com

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