I think that’s called “grace”

Posted by Gerry on February 28th, 2014

Zebest of Zebest

He came into the courtroom to face his fate
He saw so many friends and a smile lit up his face
I think that’s called “grace”

She managed her needs and watched out for her partner
a delegater extraordinaire in the most trying of circumstance
I think that’s called “grace”

A great crash. A great recovery
Then months and months of hard discovery
Lived in a thing called grace

Traveling right beside us, kindness always ready
Thoughts on stars and numbers, heart on those who love him
I think that’s called “grace”

101410 Homecoming 017

Smiles and kisses, dreams and schemes, hopes and visions
Lived through with grace and stamina
I think that’s called “grace”

Gentle knowledge when it is so hard to get through
Friends who keep and share what is true
I think that’s called “grace”

Growing together all our days, adversities intruded
But never once in all that time
Was discouragement included

Precious time
With hope in mind
Of love that never dies

Thank you, my darlings. I have known grace
In you. My heroes. Love you mucho
I think that’s called “grace”

Birthday for Anne-12

Anne & Chris 12252000

family photo laughing

July 4th Weekend

022309 patrick birthday 058
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drops falling like glass

Posted by Gerry on February 21st, 2014

072612 Grover Hot Springs 037
I want to go to the mountains
I need to wander down trails
And see clouds build like fountains
I need to lose my travails
Amid granite and pine trees
I want to see bear tracks by streams
I need to hear birdsong and buzzing of bees
The clear mountain air lingers in dreams
I need to travel down roads
Through a forest beyond some pass
To see waterfalls power explode
Over cliffs, drops falling like glass

I want to gain hope for my memories
To rest in their places amid Dardanelles and minarets
Grandeur to inspire poet’s deepest reveries
Meadows where wind and water’s flow wash away any regrets
Quiet streams or rapids
Each evokes the hearts peaceful habits
The glory of nature to bring
Giving space for the troubled heart to sing
Inner peace through wonders of nature
A stable retreat to question our Creator.

You are not here. Where are you?
Where’d you go that I can’t go?
Where’d you take the stuff you filled my heart with?

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Is poetry a hobby or an addiction?

Posted by Gerry on February 21st, 2014

Is poetry a hobby or an addiction?
Is it a mixing together words affliction?
How many times do words bounce around
Before they hit the poetry ground?
Scrambling chance meanings like dancers
Moving across the floor as carefree prancers.
Or they can be words so sorrowful and true
That just reading them makes one feel blue
Either glad or sad have their place
To help humans sort out inner space.
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if by chance we should dance

Posted by Gerry on February 21st, 2014

George Takei
if by chance we should dance
to find true love brought from above
if we are boys or girls we’ll give it a whirl
either way there’s a thrill today
to know we are free to be and live in glee
of lives together, light as a feather
so let’s just dance, given our chance
to be happy with the one we love
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Words less restlessly

Posted by Gerry on February 4th, 2014

Words less and more than their meaning
Meaning derived by context
Context both solid in the being and fluid in the history
Fluid erodes through friction on the surface
Surface meaning gives way in time
Time inevitably revises perspective
Perspective gives way restlessly
Restlessly perspectives shift
As words and context shimmers
On the surface as fluid
Meaning emerges less restlessly

This place has a mystical air

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Silly not haikus

Posted by Gerry on February 4th, 2014

BOS meeting
Contingency attendance
Consent calendar
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Mindfulness trainings
Can’t be a haiku
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Winter solstice

Posted by Gerry on February 4th, 2014

Pigeon Point 122313-49
Winter solstice
At the seashore
Bright blue days
But cold winds before
A lonely night

Light house of old
At the pigeon point
Where travelers came toward
The beautiful but treacherous
California coastal shore

In a fog drifting along
Intermittent solar flare
Somewhere out there
Forged where we used to be strong
Before mists enshrouded cares

Unable to see beyond
The haze and waves so bright
Groups of seven or nine
Birds with broad thin wings
Flying low, gliding close, formation fine

To see their way below any fog
Avoiding glare which
Blinds us who stare
Moving on down the coast
To see what is beyond
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/23/13
Pigeon Point 122313-79