Showing posts with label pieces of sky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pieces of sky. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Pieces of Sky

October 29

PIECES OF SKY



The sky falls in pieces and clutters around my feet.  Scattered are the moon, stars and sun.  Fear and desire have consumed all the rest.  Great tides of resentment wash away reality and replace it with illusion and propaganda.  What am I to do when want drives the course?  Satisfaction is unknown; the luminous butterfly I believed extinct has not yet come to me.  I leave the shards of life to tinkle as I stumble through them and forget to ask for wings of sweet contentment from unexplored realms.  Paper dreams burn with fervor; I peer to see what stands behind.  The gracious weather carries me as a seed to a vaulted canopy, celestial spaces, buoyant and fertile.  I will grow away from the rarefied fragments of unrealistic vistas, sinking roots deep in cohesion and truth.  Pieces of sky melt to rainbows; home is the nature of things.


Jingle your intellectual change.
*


On a Half-shell in Front of Tiffany’s

Pretty petty pearls wait in oysters
more perturbed than annoyed.
I string my tears for the sake of posterity
leaving the dreams to fend for themselves.

I am nothing if not splendidly prepared
for a life less steeped in wishes than realism.
Opening volleys tell a tale of round irritation,
but I am not finished just yet.

Joy comes from surpassing obstacles
and wearing healed grief
as precious gems around my neck.



You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault

Friday, December 13, 2013

What I Give You

December 13


What I give you

If I give you a piece of my mind, a piece of my heart, a piece of my liver, how do I go on in its absence?  Or does it ever leave me?  Is this more like an excision than segmentation?  Is it similar to how I carry you with me when I catch a resentment; only in a good way?  I don’t know that I can be truly divided up, but I do know that parts of me don’t belong exclusively to me anymore and I believe this is all for the better. 



Zoom up to anticipation
*

HEART HANDED

I pick up the pen in my heart hand
And the blood of my soul pours onto the page.
The words coalesce and clot into binding phrases
Sealed deals with my spirits punctuation.

Some days it is hard for my mind to keep up.
The current is swift and deeper than I expect.
The pulse of energy is amazing even to the mind it feeds
.
Like clouds racing the sky this power
Brings shade to some and rain to others.
The reaction of the moistened varies.
Some pull up hoods and scurry away

Others with up turned faces form a friendship with me.
At the level of electrons, we have a molecular bonding.
We are forever changed because I have picked up the pen
And they have picked up the page.


You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault