a song with no end
Posted: June 18, 2015 Filed under: Kindness, Meditation, Mindfulness, Yoga | Tags: Alive, Being, Charles Bukowski, cycling, Father's Day, love, Mindfulness, Omaha, passion 8 Comments…
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”
I know what he
meant
I know what he
wanted:
to be completely alive every moment
in spite of the inevitable.
we can’t cheat death but we can make it
work so hard
that when it does take
us
it will have known a victory just as
perfect as
ours.
all that
Posted: June 4, 2015 Filed under: Random Workout | Tags: all that, beauty, blogging, Body Image, Charles Bukowski, gratitude, kindness, life, Mindfulness, Omaha, passion, Poem, Prose, writing 3 Comments…
the only things I remember about
New York City
in the summer
are the fire escapes
and how the people go
out on the fire escapes
in the evening
when the sun is setting
on the other side
of the buildings
and some stretch out
and sleep there
while others sit quietly
where it’s cool.
and on many
of the window sills
sit pots of geraniums or
planters filled with red
geraniums
and the half-dressed people
rest there
on the fire escapes
and there are
red geraniums
everywhere.
this is really
something to see rather
than to talk about.
it’s like a great colorful
and surprising painting
not hanging anywhere
else.
the spill
Posted: August 14, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Charles Bukowski, Graditude, kindness, life, love, Omaha, passion, Poetry, Prose, writing 3 Comments…
the jock’s horse
the 7 horse
clipped the heels
of the horse
in front of
him
stumbled and
fell
throwing the
jock
over its
head
and onto the
track before
some
oncoming
horses
most of
which
avoided the
jock’s
still
form
except for
the 9
horse
who gave him
one step
in the middle
of his
back
you could
see
the hoof
dig
in
then the
field was
past
and the
ambulance was
on its
way
the jock wore
Kelly green
silks,
black
sleeves.
3 or 4
people were now
gathered around
the
still
jock.
as the ambulance
moved in
the man behind
me
said to his
companion
“let’s go get’
a
beer.”
No. 6
Posted: February 21, 2014 Filed under: Meditation, Yoga | Tags: blogging, Charles Bukowski, compassion, exercise, family, flowers, freshly pressed, friends, happiness, health, hope, kindness, life, love, musings, nature, Omaha, passion, Poetry, Prose, writing, yoga 3 Comments…
I’ll settle for the 6 horse
on a rainy afternoon
a paper cup of coffee
in my hand
a little way to go,
the wind twirling out
small wrens from
the upper grandstand roof,
the jocks coming out
for a middle race
silent
and the easy rain making
everything
at once
almost alike,
the horses at peace with
each other
before the drunken war
and I am under the grandstand
feeling for
cigarettes
settling for coffee,
then the horses walk by
taking their little men
away-
it is funereal and graceful
and glad
like the opening
of flowers.
A Vote For the Gentle Light
Posted: November 7, 2013 Filed under: Random Workout, Yoga | Tags: art, blogging, Charles Bukowski, compassion, Depression, family, freshly pressed, happiness, health, hope, kindness, life, Light, love, lululemon, meditation, mental health, Mood, motivation, musings, nature, Omaha, paleo, passion, Photography, Poem, Poetry, Prose, relationships, strength, whole foods, writing, yoga 8 Comments…
a vote for the gentle light
burned senseless by other people’s constant
depression,
I pull the curtains apart,
aching for the gentle light.
it’s there, it’s there
somewhere,
I’m sure.
oh, the faces of depression, expressions
pulled down into the gluey dark.
the bitter small sour mouths,
the self-pity, the self-justification is
too much, all too much.
the faces in shadow,
deep creases of gloom.
there’s no courage there, just the desire to
possess something––admiration, fame, lovers,
money, any damn thing
so long as it comes easy.
so long as they don’t have to do
what’s necessary.
and when they don’t succeed they
become embittered,
ugly,
they imagine that they have
been slighted, cheated,
demeaned.
then they concentrate upon their
unhappiness, their last
refuge.
and they’re good at that,
they are very good at that.
they have so much unhappiness
they insist upon your sharing it
too.
they bathe and splash in their
unhappiness,
they splash it upon you.
it’s all they have.
it’s all they want.
it’s all they can be.
you must refuse to join them.
you must remain yourself.
you must open the curtains
or the blinds
or the windows
to the gentle light.
to joy.
it’s there in life
and even in death
it can be
there.
CultFit 