Words like leaves
Drop in a pile
Of inconsequence
Shuffled aside
By faulty memories
Of relevance
Others clog the drains
With their hateful intent
Bunching
But not decomposing
They linger
Without letting
Things pass
Let my words
Be brilliant gold
Or flaming orange
Offering beauty
And a sense
Of well-being
And let them be
If only for a season
Worthy
Of the notice
I saw her sitting with friends
through the glass of the bus stop.
I crossed the road and entered,
she was weeping.
“Aw, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”
She looked up at me
and shook her head gently,
casting jewels knee-wards.
“You always see me like this,
I bet you’ve never seen me smiling?”
She was wrong, so wrong.
I bent down and kissed her
on her head, reminded her
that she had my number
if she ever needed me
and exited the bus stop.
“Why have you got his number,
he’s one of those punks from town?”
I heard one of her friends ask
as I walked away.
“I know, but he’s the nicest man
I’ve ever met!”
she answered.
I kept on walking,
glancing at the window
of a parked car as I went.
Saw the reflection
of my left cheek
and a bit of forehead only.
The shadows hid my crimson eyes
for these blue times.
More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.
In a world
of such great hurt
the challenge
can be where to begin,
where first
to offer healing,
where first
to offer a kind word.
I still think
there is a kindness
in people
buried somewhere deep
there is a healing property
a possibility in the quiet hum
there is a door
wide open to a better life
a better place
a better frame of being.
Do not be
the cactus
with spiny
tongue
do not bring
pain to a world
of loneliness
and hurt,
instead smooth
aloe over
wounds of neighbors
send salve
to the strangers
you meet.
In the fourth grade
too many moons ago
a reassuring teacher
looked over my shoulder
and said not to worry about
some mistake on my paper.
She said that’s why
we have erasers.
Now a teacher assures
my grandson
in the same grade
not to worry
about his mistake.
She tells him that’s
why we have
a delete key.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.
“I was about to fall,
Going to lose my identity,
By blending myself,
With rain water,
Cuz I was,
Born to blend!
Meanwhile,
The kindest plant,
Extended its hand,
And caught me,
Now,
I, delicate ball,
Resting,
In the green bed,
And singing
kindness costs nothing”
I’ve noticed that the meaning of life
Isn’t some complicated thing,
It’s really quite simple:
Find out who you really are deep inside
And live your life doing what
You really love doing,
Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not,
Heal yourself,
Put yourself in others’ shoes,
Treat yourself and others with kindness,
Make the world a better place for
Yourself and everyone else,
Treat the planet with care,
Smile and laugh often,
Do nice things,
And love yourself and others.
Do good not to have it reciprocated
Be kind not to be treated kindly
Be your best not to have the best
Be yourself not to be imitated
Love not to be loved back
Care not to be cared for
Think not to be thought about
Give not to get back
Give up not to hurt
Give up but to save yourself
Walk away not to be missed
Walk away but to be cherished
Refusing to take advantage
of your plight, offering
a bit of healing for the harm
my step has caused
I pack a bag of food, big
deal, donate some clothing
Small goods and actions
in a brutally tilting world.