Clarity Comes In Waves There's no use looking too closely, You're looking for it, so, you know it will appear. Maybe not today, and not yesterday, but because you are looking, it will appear. Everything you imagine, is happening. Maybe not here, or to you, or your love, But, you thought it and it becomes. Maybe the clouds just arrive in clumps of endless gauzy skyfulls. Molecules of ideas, thoughts, and possible tomorrows, percolated essences of sentient evaporations. Droplets fall into gravity. You look in the mirror for a way to defy the pull. But clarity comes in waves. And by counting the waves breaking over the rocks, Instead of finding the pause. you felt the force of each passing year, everything happened, you saw it all, and you let go. . ===================== #puddlepoems #poetry #grey #puddle #clarity #time
Monday, December 28, 2015
Clarity Comes In Waves There's no use looking too closely, You're looking for it, so, you know it will appear. Maybe not today, and not yesterday, but because you are looking, it will appear. Everything you imagine, is happening. Maybe not here, or to you, or your love, But, you thought it and it becomes. Maybe the clouds just arrive in clumps of endless gauzy skyfulls. Molecules of ideas, thoughts, and possible tomorrows, percolated essences of sentient evaporations. Droplets fall into gravity. You look in the mirror for a way to defy the pull. But clarity comes in waves. And by counting the waves breaking over the rocks, Instead of finding the pause. you felt the force of each passing year, everything happened, you saw it all, and you let go. . ===================== #puddlepoems #poetry #grey #puddle #clarity #time
Saturday, December 26, 2015
Having fun with patterns. #patterns #squiggles #noodleink #tanglecards #xmasgifts #igartist
Having fun with patterns. #patterns #squiggles #noodleink #tanglecards #xmasgifts #igartist
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
You Are Still Young
Today I remember you are still young.
I reached to hold your hand today as we walked across the street
Forgetting that it might embarrass you,
I say all the stupid things walking with you
that I'm not supposed to say aloud,
and you never hesitate to enlighten my faux pas.
I look at your soft brilliance, fresh like spring sprouts,
I forget that your mind is like an autumn wind shower reorganizing,
shedding last years growth.
And in between each moment when I glimpse the infant you were,
the you that's become has
unwavering power on my heart.
As the vibrant color of the fallen leaves reveal,
this time we have to love never takes pause, so
we must find the pause for ourselves.
You are still young, and we move forward not in a straight line,
but in and out
of seasons, past and future, together and alone.
We move like color fading from an old photograph.
The brilliance doesn't need to last.
I've already felt it.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Happy Halloween !! #Halloween #freakyart #artonetsy #october31
Happy Halloween !! #Halloween #freakyart #artonetsy #october31
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Sending some art love today from my etsy shop! #artonetsy #artforsale #artist #artunder100
Sending some art love today from my etsy shop! #artonetsy #artforsale #artist #artunder100
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Three Leafed Clover
Three Leafed Clover
Why are we always looking for a four leafed clover to bring us luck?
As if more brings happiness.
We know that is never true.
Isn't the magnificence of any growth enough? T
hat we endure even in mundanity and simplicity.
With just what we are given.
Just leaves, each held by each other connected at the center,
rooted together for strength.
An untold number of four leafed clovers exist underfoot,
trampled would be lucky charms, never to be wished upon.
Like every day that's lived asleep,
we wander unaware that we're enough.
#puddlepoem #poem #poetsofinstagram #poetry #puddlepoem #nicolund #nicolunddotcom #clover #luckyclover #lucky #iamenough
Thursday, October 8, 2015
This Little Dance
This little dance,
A small song,
A short breath,
With limited sight.
This little life,
Its small spin,
And short days,
With extended nights.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
A Game of Cat's
Isn't it perfect that
life is just a stream of X's and O's?
Each one blocking out the other as they go.
..
Doesn't it just makes sense
that all that we see in front of us are
cancellations, one after the other?
..
It's a string of blackout-poetry,
and we didn't know that all the words we obscured
and covered up contained the original meaning of life.
..
Haven't you wondered if it was true
that who you are is just replaced
moment by moment with someone else?
..
And this abstract version of things
that you're trying to understand is just
an infuriating game of cat's
that no one seems to be able to win.
Monday, May 11, 2015
Words that Confuse Time and Fall Off Pages
Where do the words come from?
As they slip
and lisp from
deep places
and twist into sounds.
As they arise from
inhabited thoughts
that are illusions and
illusive interruptions
of space.
And they have
the capacity
to bite and cut
and jab into
soft fleshy realities,
while multiplying
and propagating
into overpopulated emotions
and anxious breaths.
What are words
but outbreaks of
viruses that contaminate,
confuse and
consume time
with their prolific
verses and stanzas.
Their offspring
committing suicides by
falling off pages
too small
to
contain
them.
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Every Moment an Instinct 30/30
Oh, how we compare ourselves to caterpillars.
But it’s like the moths gravitating towards bright lights
then dying that we mimic.
How we tell children that dreaming is where happiness is made.
That when dreams come true,
wings unfold with unimaginable colors and take flight.
Yet, the lives of birds, insects and flowers are not so beautiful as we are told.
Every moment an instinct.
They are not joyful for their magnificence.
Our happiness on the other hand has the habit
of transforming like clouds to tears.
It’s not true that rain comes from the sky,
and rain is not falling to the ground.
Why do we lie to ourselves?
At the top, will the view will be enough?
From the top, there is only room for one,
looking down,
looking down.
From the top,
there is
only
looking
down.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Staying Takes You Somewhere 29/30
Which-
ever
the
way to
go?
Up,
down,
same thing.
Depending on
what you're looking for.
When to move?
But even staying
takes
you
some-
where.
The only
constant is
constantly
going.
Suffering
is trying to make it stop.
Stopping is like perfection; it doesn't exist.
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Ephemeral Architecture 28/30
Life is a delicate structure,
Built upon ephemeral architecture.
This transient space
we call time; the framework.
A short-lived experience endlessly eclipsing itself.
For Something Pure to Bring Home 27/30
From far away,
Squinting sharpens your features,
Brings definition to your edges,
But you are still too far to touch,
Comprehend,
Have.
I listened to the music that
Tickled your ears
And softened your heart.
But all I heard
Was the droning of a tired bee
Out looking for something
Pure to bring home.
And all that squinting for the future
Brought tears to my eyes.
No Thing to Tell 11/26
There is no thing to
Tell you,
No thing to tell,
It's not to late to find your feet
To get you through this spell.
Take your steps,
Step with care, each footprint
Makes a dent.
Reflections move and change their views
With every rivers bend.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
For All Creatures of Good Heart 25/30 for Chai & Bamboo
Todays Poetry prompt from NaPoWriMo is a clerihew poem. Although, they are usually only 4 lines, I needed an extra quatrain for the benefit of all sentient beings.
For goodness sakes Madame Woodland Park Zoo,
You've made a gargantuan travesty of the lives of chai and bamboo,
These sentient beings and the other zoo lot,
Aren't just novelties like dodo birds or triceratops.
It's time to do right Monsiers and Madams,
Letting go of your money, your accreditation and stand.
Send Chai and Bamboo to retire in peace,
And for all creatures of good heart to be released.
Friday, April 24, 2015
Thursday, April 23, 2015
I Am Enough 23/30
It's a simple tweak
Gentle touch and
Barely noticeable smile.
The one just underneath the skin
Like maybe because it's always there,
Always tilted up without effort
In a thought of kindness
Or swoosh of sweetness.
An Illusive opposite of shadow
A sensual passing through.
What is that rising flutter in my heart?
A infinitesimal shift
With a colossal effect.
A momentous rejoicing
With the smallest of sighs.
Enough, enough, enough!
I am enough.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
What If? 22/30
What if the rain never came?
Drip
drop
dry.
There'd be nothing to wash
The tangles from your hair,
Or the soot from your pores.
What if the sky never filled with clouds?
Drip
drop.
Each lost droplet a lost idea
For the clouds are the accumulation
Of all the ideas and dreams
Of the people down below.
What if the thoughts stopped coming?
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
What if?
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Puddling is Not a Simple Matter 21/30
Napowrimo.net prompt for today was to make an erasure poem.
This was much more difficult than I thought it would be...
try it...you'll see what I mean!
This was much more difficult than I thought it would be...
try it...you'll see what I mean!
Monday, April 20, 2015
When I Heard Your Heartbeat, I Cried 20/30
#NaPoWriMo Challenge: Write a poem that states the things you know.
The ground beneath my feet is really layers
and layers of time.
Stepping softly won’t slow my growing old.
Walking in circles only makes me dizzy.
I know I need to embrace this journey.
The sun doesn’t choose whose eyes to shine in -
I am here as witness to each glimmer.
Your spring hydrates my crisp summer leaves.
When I heard your heartbeat I cried, knowing
The flood was on the way - and I knew how to swim.
I had thought I knew what love was,
I had thought I knew,
But love is like time,
beneath my feet,
with each step,
I grow wiser.
Leaving Marks 19/30
Of worries I've shared many.
Some thrown to winds,
Some dashed to dust,
Leaving marks,
With ancient rust.
Today's #NaPoWriMo Prompt is write a Landay.
Landays are 22-syllable couplets, generally rhyming. The form comes from Afghanistan.
With This Sunny Day 18/30
Collapse onto the first
Grassy spot you find.
Sit just for the sake of sitting.
Take off your shoes,
And your socks.
Look closely to find little insects
Wiggling around under blades.
Aren't you also wiggling
Up and over similar blades and bumps
Looking for something?
Try your hardest not to squint
When the sun touches your face.
Don't be chilled by that cooling breeze,
Instead notice every follicle that is feeling something.
Let that fly linger
Just a moment more on your arm
And see the hundreds of reflections on its wings.
Aren't you also always landing in places
That try to swat you away
As you try to be just who you are?
Friday, April 17, 2015
Modified Haiku in The Key of Sea - in three parts 17/30
#NaPoWriMo haiku challenge-4:9:4
Modified Haiku in The Key of Sea
In three parts
I
Another wave
Won't stop for the shore because it can't.
Energy's curse.
II
Compulsive bursts
Spit up the underbellies of thoughts
Then back to sea.
III
Then back to shore
Then back to sea, a marriage of fates
Without a truce.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
All The Things Your Heart Is 16/30
Take all the things your heart is
And all the things your heart isn't,
Can them
Into a jar
And watch the flickering lights
Blink on and
off like summer
Fire bugs on a
Dim lit hazy night.
Above stars will play
Hide and seek
With night clouds
And moon-shadows.
When you go to slumber
Your mind will buzz
With a million thoughts
Until
Sleep
sets
you
free.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
All at Once Yet Never Together 15/30
Heart and mind.
A metaphor murmuring
And melting evermore
Into puddles of
Desire and despair.
Always all at once yet never together.
Which one could stand alone?
As the sea and the shore join endlessly
Rock by pebble by
Sand to silt.
I am left to reflect how the
Waning tide suffers
no remorse
As it leaves me.
Returning later,
It will not grieve that
I have gone.
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Tomorrow is Tax Day 14/30
Each moment is significant.
For example, this line at the post office.
Tomorrow is tax day.
That mom with the two young children.
What she says to them: wait here.
How they look at her.
And they are watching, learning, learning about waiting.
Children are always learning about waiting.
The older woman behind me.
How she chews her fingers and looks around.
Once she was young and then after that she was somewhere in between
like me.
Each line has a memory of another line.
Whether or not the end of any line gets you what you wanted,
the wait is often noted, recorded, reviewed.
Each anticipation of any wait-er has been solidified in the mind;
calcified blocks of
personal stories and vignettes.
How our waiting settles into these clerks,
perhaps to ground their slowness to slow
and then seemingly slower.
Did someone press pause on this moment?
Is it for me to finally notice?
Should I take this time for something significant?
Conversely, sometimes it seems we believe
that frantically looking around at anyone
who will meet our eye will speed up the process.
We are all waiting for our turn.
Life is not waiting for us, but oh how we wait for it.
For it to happen.
For it to unfold and reveal its mysteries.
Right now is always fighting our anxiety with
elongated space between here and there.
Every line in our life is like time passing.
How we wait is telling.
How we wait
is who we are
In each
significant moment.
Somewhere Between Neither 13/30
Yesterday I said I will
Catch up to a breath,
Catch up to the moment.
But Today I'll be somewhere between neither.
Try to hold what it was,
It disappears.
Try to hold it tight,
It begs to be let go.
There is no future for wanting.
There is no breath waiting to be had.
Monday, April 13, 2015
A Hard Truth 9/30
Waking up inside small circles
Still asleep.
Still wrapping around and around and
Around.
In truth,
The center is hard to locate.
The center has its own center.
Its own center doesn’t exist.
So what am I
Wrapping around if not
Nothing at all?
This One to the Sea 11/30
Mother takes the hand of little fingers,
kissing them one by one.
This finger down the mountain,
This finger through the trees,
This finger touch the sky,
This one to the sea.
Mother touches so gently each blade of grassy hair on little heads.
Here sprouts the life,
Here the flowing gold,
Here flowering seeds,
Here the dreaming folds.
Mother walks with care, small steps and slowly.
First steps in the water,
First falling to the ground,
First dance with windy music,
First whispers in the round.
River Won't Listen 10/30
River rushing,
Messing through tranquility,
Upsetting soft grasses
And still trees.
Calm sky clouds
Stay open for a wide sun.
But river shatters the rays
Upon rocks and edges.
River won’t listen
To birdsong or deer hooves moving.
Instead, tantrum-ing down mountainsides,
And butting up against boundaries and lines.
Always running,
although towards or away from,
We may never know.
Whirl-pooled and streaming puddles of childish tears,
Crying until they’re all dried up.
I'm No Sooner Arrived 8/30
I'm back from the woods where I spend a few days off the grid...I couldn't post for #napowrimo, so the following posts will be catch up posts of what I put together at Breightenbush Hot Springs in Oregon.
Sooner and later I'm always
Looking for shadows and shapes
That disappear behind
Each distraction,
Dissolve into every reflection
And dip beneath an under-looked depth.
And later I awake to find
I'm no sooner arrived.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
A Drop in The Bucket 7/30
Today's writing prompt from NaPoWriMo is: Write about Money
A Drop in the Bucket
It’s in our DNA,
To build upon and build upon.
To multiply, and increase.
To take up more space,
To be our own.
To identify what is ‘mine’.
One penny connecting to another,
Becoming another form of currency,
Attracting more connections.
The endless becoming of many pieces
That together represent
More than the whole.
Culturally the monies display differently,
But underlying the structure,
Their concepts,
look the same.
Like with our own DNA,
Money buys ninety percent junk,
Only ten percent for what we need to function.
Often, our wallets suffer from disease and loss.
Some feel emptiness,
Some are obese,
Some are tainted with bad blood.
Many submit to the God gene and feel all powerful,
While others are stolen
Disappearing into the masses,
Unnoticeable,
An insignificant
drop
in the bucket.
It’s in our DNA to make more.
It’s in our DNA to take over,
As we spend
we speak,
Through our voices,
we evolve.
Monday, April 6, 2015
Aubade to a Sleepless Night 6/30
Aubade to a Sleepless Night
Let me return this to you.
It was a long night,
Restless and aching,
With sheets damp with worry.
Upon your dawning,
I thought to give this back
See if you could do better with it.
With its colorless cast,
Soundless lamenting,
It's not so much that I tired of it,
It just didn't seem to take to my efforts.
So, here it is,
With its soft luring,
Whispering and warmth
It so cruelly withheld from me.
I know as soon as you rise,
It will nuzzle up
To your sunny disposition
And stop racing around
Through the gaps in my breaths.
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