THE RIVER

Sometimes
Life seems
Like a polluted river
I swim through the debris
The rocks and shards of glass
Unscathed
Other times
I come up
With only minor injuries
Thankful for small miracles
Conditional Survival
As I look ahead I see few
Placid pools
Swirls and foam, turbulence
Abound
The shores
The boundaries of this ordeal
Offer little enticement
As the rushing ride
Exhilarates and entices
The swim becomes a thrill
The dangers lost or forgotten
I’m sucked below and bruise
I rise above and breathe
And once again
Grin with gratitude
As I spy my companions
As I rush down river
To link arms with them

By J.L. Rosa
_______________________________________

There was a time when I would jokingly take credit for things my friends had made, especially good, savory dishes. "I made that," I would say laughing. Sometimes I would fool people 'til the end of the party. Problem was, when I did make something good, no one believed me. They knew me as the incorrigible liar.

This afternoon my husband laughed when I told him I was going to take ownership of his poem. But, I can't even lie in jest about it. He wrote this. He's always been the poet in the family. I fell in love with him, long before I fell in love with poetry. And I'm so glad he's writing again.

********

(Submitted to One Shot Poetry)

THE HUGGER

Just for a moment
I chose to be
a fool, breathing you.

Standing tall,
confident majestic
I inhaled
grandiose generosity.
You taught me
love untouchable,
reality's treasure
exhuded from you
to me
for free.
Stolen embrace
lingers like ether
in my soul,
body essence.

Peacefully I smile
at ferver, contempt,
anger, ignorance.
"You fool!"

Passively I watch
our roots destroyed.
I pray your hug
forgives us.
***************
I read a magazine article recently, which highlighted the importance of trees. Without them we cannot exist. Trees are becoming very important to me lately. I want to honor them.

******
Submitted to One Shot Poetry.

THE MOON AND FRIED EGGPLANT

Frying eggplant after dark,

thoughts recurred in negative abyss,

Ruminations of life, how it should be.

When I glanced at the moon winking at me.

Through my kitchen window it flew

to confront me with its smile.

With cosmic silent command it spoke,

"Stop! No matter what you may desire,

only this moment for you exists.

Like a mist within what's real,

illusion's vapor flowing,

into nothing."

Happily,the eggplant kept on sizzling.

No thoughts of past or future fate.

No thoughts of moments better spent.

No thoughts of why the moon was present

or why it suddenly left.

No thoughts at all,

Though all along it knew,

in order to self-actualize

it's essence it must give.

Big piece I took.

It smelled so good.

This time, it was I who winked.

The man in the moon was watching.

As surrendering I ate,

epicurean delight
which in that moment
life had offered me.

******************************************************************************************

I really did fry this eggplant to freeze and leave for the ladies, prior to a little trip.
_______________________

Submitted to One Shot Poetry.

HORTENSE

Upon a branch in my imagination
she mused about thoughts poetic.
Unlike any muse since fantasy's inception,
Hortense, no job or home, non-angelic
Life eccentric, she's actually pathetic.

Desperately she needs employment.
But her references are unknown.
She admits she's not that competent.
Just says she's new, not fully grown
hasn't been long on her own.

Reluctantly, she confessed
she inhaled words since she was born.
By her resume I'm hardly impressed.
She hardly knows the norm
of rhyme, or other classic form.

To the rules, little attention she paid
Now she begs to be hired
With no talent displayed.
But she says no compensation is required
if she can make me feel inspired.

Whether wise or fool, I must confess
I used my heart and not my head
Decision made under no duress
Hortense is now hired.


(Submitted to One Stop Poetry. )

REPEATED THOUGHTS

Wake up. It's late.

For medications that don't work,

for lifeless motions,

artificial life,

to eat,

shower, be groomed,
then sit aimlessly,
in paralyzed vacuum
of your mind.
Alone, jumbled
in senseless apparitions,
delusional phantoms,
imagination stirring,
creating visions
of confusion,
visiting distant world evolved
from mangoe and plantain,
half-moon of avocado,
bright sun of orange yam.
I call to you
from within those depths
to be
with me a while.
But your speach repeats
like verses
from old prayers,
memorized repertoire,
immortalized,

"Look at the sun,"
"Look at the sun,"
"Look at the sun," you say

as it surprises you
each time I yearn
for patience to accept
the splendor of your being,
the value of your Now.
Makes me wonder if
it is you
or I
who is awake.

********

Submitted to One Shot Poetry where poets, writers and artists meet.

***********

My mother, who has Alzheimer's, slept late this morning and I had time to ponder her condition, which causes me so much stress. Her mind is always distant, she says things outside my reality, repeats things endlessly and in this world, she is completely helpless.

Gardens Still Remaining

You failed to notice my glance

during an ordinary, still moment

when you sighed, looking

at your empty garden, envying

potential.

Stealthily, I crawled in your thoughts

deep privacy that recalled, bounty

of past harvests produced

from fresh fertile soil

where roots took hold of life

thirsting for creation.

You wondered if it's worth it

to keep planting in barren earth

with only uncertainty's promise

of sprouting something raw

in soils exploited constantly

by the violence of the elements,

and human nature's flaws.

You sighed again. Unnoticed

I retreated from your mind.

Then thoughts you spoke announcing

plans of soon implanting

hopeful seeds of plenty,

soulful actions recreating

hopeful colors of sunbeams

watered by the wells

of wishes still remaining

in the gardens of your dreams.

(Submitted to One Shot Poetry a site where poets and artists meet.)

BE THE PEACE

The spirit of war oozes
hate pollinating fertile grounds
believing codes of lies
shielded with strong armor.

Undefeated death resuscitates
words of faith
provoking courage
cloaked in loyalty's honor.

Romance weaves a tale
lauding powerful aggression
protecting, defending
ideologies, false truths.

Wise warriors for...something
the need for killing proclaim
in the beginning and always
forever and ever, amen.

Yet others go within
to dwell in passive knowing
that peace can reign eternal
in the stillness of the heart.

In prayerful isolation
not even hope as a sword
by the might of love enlightened
quietly, they wage no war.

LEARNING THE DANCE

We learned the jig.
What else could we do?
We muffled our chuckles
as penguins like humans
kicked up their feet
to show little leprechauns
how to follow the beat
of strange pipes that blew
sounds of river's dance,
as lucky pots of gold,
parades of rainbows,
triad leaves of green
shaped our futures with good luck.

What else could we do
but graciously honor
the wealth of good heritage
they aimed to display?
We learned the jig
in a crazy old way
to show them our thanks
for their work so sincere
though we knew to their rules
we'd not fully adhere.
Still, we were happy to dance
their wishes accomplish
For on that day we knew
we would all be Irish."

I attended Catholic grammar school, where the good nuns (who looked like penguins in their black and white habits and were predominantly Irish), tried often in vain, to teach us the Irish jig.

"May you have warm words on a cold evening,

a full moon on a dark night,

and the road downhill all the way to your door."

Irish Blessing

(Submitted to One Stop Poetry. You can read some wonderful poetry there.)

AWAKE

Silence mocking her, hides
while raising the volume
of her lover's even paced, deafening breaths
until nothing else exists
in the darkness.
His paralized body in slumber lays
beside her envy and desolation.

Tired of noticing countless discomforts,
her body settles into her mind
to confront and explore inner monsters
competing for importance and time.

Living room curtains need replacing,

God, are you really all-prevailing?

What's the big deal to sailing?

Wonder what my friend is painting.

So many wars and crime we're facing.

Why does Rita think she's amazing?

Maybe tomorrow I'll do some stargazing.


Mysteriously, like soothing warm milk, solutions
abound. World's problems solved... (except
that maybe shutters may be best).
Silent darkness filters in.
Momentary peace dwells
in nothing
for ten minutes before
that unwelcome, sinister, timely ring.

(Submitted to One Shot Poetry where poets and artists meet. Visit the site for some great reading.)

THE END

Creation decays as scenes fuse

becoming vaporous memories now

meaningless, roles evaporate leaving

identity's shattered fragments. Phantoms

haunt this vacant structure

no longer filled with vibrant drama

flowing with the possibility of dreams.

No sets to transform

No audience to please

No costumes to form illusions

No lines to feign the lies

Alone

Anticipating

Hoping

that the last curtain will finally fall.

(Submitted to One Stop Poetry and Poets United.)

DECISIONS

Ruminating
my thoughts wander
within unknown darkness
no psychic powers predict
consequence of choice
muddy motivations stifle
clarity's flow intercepted
unanswered questions haunt
fear paralyzing spirit
confusion dominating all.

.
Perhaps I should...
Compared to others...
Right or wrong?
What if...?
Selfish me?
My life reclaim?
I'm no saint!

Feelings jumbled, contradict
truth of my soul
decision unmade
a decision just the same
life demanding movement
I breathe
I plunge
I chose.

(submitted to One Shot Wednesday where poets and writers meet.)

_______
Tough decisions must be made. For some it's about vocation, travel, marriage, divorce etc. For me it's about placing mother and mother-in-law in a nursing home. I've begun to explore those possibilities. It was a very difficult decision for me but I feel my physical and mental health are at stake. Wish me luck.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO US

Simple kiss

of hope and honey

cosmic turbulance evoked.

The Universe sighed, listening

to love-filled vow immersed in power,

capricious promise rippling

through time unfortold.

Eternal kiss embracing life,

all zigzags in the foggy road.

Alchemic spell

of love and passion,

that simple kiss, still

lingers, forever

melding our souls.

**************

Submitted to One Shot Poetry. Visit the site and you'll enjoy some wonderful poetry.

FEAR

Slowly you infuse
opaque mortal fumes.
Choking, lethal,
forceful obscurity,
obstinate snuff.

Feeding illusive lies.
Within darkest inlets
of mind's floating slush,
you dwell
festering.

Kill you? I must!
With passionate violence,
roaring rage,
boiling crimson blood,
exterminating, annihilating -
I create.

Cleansed, air I finally breathe.
Conquering warrior pacified
with enemy slain.
Courageously I proceed
knowing your power -
resuscitation.

Submitted to One Shot Poetry.

MY STORY

A magic book

contains my story

changing yet complete

time

reads each page

sometimes skimming

details

discarded

to oblivion

I live the tale

illusion's protagonist

weaving drama

tragic/comedy

dreams

time limitless

reads on.

Submitted to One Shot Poetry. If you want to read some fantastic writing, visit the site. You'll enjoy.

Like me, I'm sure many of you are going through a period of reflection. A new year approaches and time accompanies our choices as we create our lives. I take this demarcation of time to establish many intentions and decisions. I hope they are all realized.

I hope you realize your dreams and may time be your friend. Happy New Year!!! Prospero Ano Nuevo!!!

MY WISH

Intoxication wraps around my spirit, tickling

profound spaces where memories lurk.

Fumes familiar whisp throughout, as exhiliration

clings to thoughts. Excitement frames anticipation.

Laughing, it springs forth a fountain of love

spraying its waters upon you.

Before its gushing energy, I stand wishing

that you and I forever remain drenched

in its gentle and powerful magic.

*********

Submitted to One Shot Poetry. Visit them and treat yourself to some beautiful poetry.

************

As much as I've tried, I have not escaped a little of the joyful frenzy that happens during this season. Already many friends and family members have visited, shared food, some gifts but mostly we've shared our joy. Tomorrow, I'm off to visit my daughter, her husband and my grandson. I'm off to playland.

My wish for you can hardly be expressed in words. I'll just blow a kiss into space. It is enveloped in love, joy, peace, happiness and all the wonders of the Universe... for you, during this season and always.

TO: THE NORTH POLE

Dear Santa,
Hope you don't think me extreme,
To ask for things seen only in dreams.
No gadgets or toys beneath the tree,
I know that it's magic you can bring me.

With twirling, bouncing fireballs to play.
I'll taste chocolate planets and drink milky way.
Riding rockets of candy and space ships that boom,
I'll rest on cloud mattress on Marshmallow moons.

If not too much trouble, for all kids can this be?
Too lonely I'd be if the fun's just for me.
You too would enjoy the season so merry
Not having to read nor letter nor querry.

As so well you know, we're all naughty and nice
Why not give happiness, you know there's no price.
Something extraordinary's what I'd like to see
The laughter of children. Imaginations free.

Sincerely,
Hopeful Kid

P.S. No job will you have once you grant me my wish

You can play, romp or eat or just sit and catch fish.

*********

Submitted to One Shot Poetry. Stop by there and read some fantastic writing.

Tiny Little Globe

I fell up

through a hole in the sky,

tumbling.
Landing amidst creatures so strange

perplexing.
A tiny little globe perceiving

colors astounding.
Textures, structures, fabrics

brilliantly mixing,
deceiving.

Tiny minds

yearning.

On unknowing clouds

I floated, innocently
watching

particles melding.
Separation turned One,

opposites annihilating.
From such intricate fantasy

awakening, I knew

reality's dream

stumbling, falling
on the little globe.

********

Entered in One Shot Poetry and Poetry Potluck.

The Song of the Cosmos

From slumber stirred, I awakened to see
the entire universe before me expanding.
Through a rip in the veil of reality
I floated suspended
in nothing.

Alien feelings began to emerge:
true freedom, alone yet no fear.
Am I really the only one here?
Strange dark matter I embraced,
illuminating my soul.

Then a celestial concert I heard,
constellations in unison chanting.
Harmonious frequencies, perfect vibrations,
reverberations traversing infinity, all.

The song of the cosmos...
Oooooouuuuummmm

_________
Visit One Shot Poetry to enter your own poem, or to read some great writing.

Life

Futile her attempts at irradicating thoughts,
she sits alone with truth undisguised.
Rage like blood rushes through her veins
as she fails to contain the fury from betrayal,
dispensed with ironic lies, with fraudulent portrayal.

Chuckling she dismisses the tempting taste of desperation,
of ressentment and dismay about life's tricks and deceptions.
Nothing gained in hopelessness. Comforting
thoughts emerge like tiny glimmers in the ocean,
electric vibes of light that float and heal emotion.

Sighing she remembers life just is, not bad, not fair.
A script in mystery unraveling. Few deliberate, most
unconscious decisions made asleep, devoid of plans
or mature seeing. Uncertain consequences unfortold,
hidden while life unfolds, only death reliable at its threshold.

______________

This is my entry for one shot poetry. I encourage you to visit the site and read some wonderful poetry or make an entry yourself.