... I have not lived long enough yet..

There is more to life than boundaries and legacies.
I don't know if I ever will finish searching for peace in my soul, especially missing friends willing to spend time shearing my "jungle" of never ending understanding...


At my 88th birthday

At this current standard of living
all things are available to purchase,
needed or just tempted to have.
Short of complete English,
I looked for help to find explanation
for some words I’ve been thinking about lately.
The dictionary betrayed me.
“Legacy” – suppose to be a bequest of property.
What about the poems we write
in words without dictionary’s permission?
They are about love, sufferings,
misunderstandings,
searching for friendships,
trying to help and support some lost souls.
They are not material
packaged or saved at bank accounts.

I tripped at another word - “boundaries”.
Do you know about boundaries?
They are in everyone’s life and soul.
Do we notice them in daily actions?
Life needs disciplines
that can not be attained in a store.
They come from within your self
by severe self-control.
Do we have boundaries for ourselves?
Do we respect those of others?
Ignoring them Love gets killed,
leading to frustrations
that creates violence, depressions and suicide.
There are no rules what legacy, if any,
to leave after we’re gone.
It might help to read poetry with deeper thinking.
It might be possible to find how to build the boundaries
and disciplines in ourselves
by more severe self-control
how to leave the most worthy legacy:
unforgettable LOVE.

lonely day

lonely day
lonely day I was trying to get a picture posted from kodak file, but actualy has no use.That was a picture with other writers long weekend.I was out of mine loneliness. There was a themes abut literary values. I am yet not that familiar with all of of them. Pardon me, at 88 one does not learn literary history, though it is interesting.I am not sure where my mind is going now???? Death is the closest . .. Why am I trying or even avoiding to think about improving my knowledge of writers who did feel like I do - future is not in our control. I do like to write something that will leave a tought in the readers mind - life does not have a recipe how it will complete. Am I afraid? I don't think so, but - what do I know?I don't even know why I do try writing something on this blog? Who will read it or even think about it after? I just feel lonely. For all I have done - I still have to die alone and without any consoling feelings today....

Just getting my toughts together

I gave not written for a long time because "we do not have equal rights".
The whole life turns around money and therefore people like me who live n the worlds quiet corner have no access to the many catching satellites. I finally got with some ones help my computer back to get at the folders I like to write something. It does not have and wont be another poem right now, because I am frustrated about the so named advanced connections. I think sometime I could die before the computer connects to the file I like. Meanwhile have thought about 88 years life that does not mean anything to anyone else. Though - 88 years teaches a lot even without school or new laws and new borderlines in community life.
I just have quieted down for the frustration the computer done to me and have my thoughts
too many to right about now. I will "cool" (new word interpretation) my mind and actually am itching to do more writing on the blog. For now - hope they wont change my programs again without my personal permission. I am not interested of what anyone has to sell. Life has more to it than material matter that are available for money. That is my reason for writing.
So I hope to get at it with fresh thoughts ( and poems) again.

So this is unloading my disappointment with the technical progress and Ii hope I will be able to put more of my thoughts on the blog.

Wondering what peace is like? Before the world is running with the "worldly speed" this view made me stop and see the peace we can not really capture in words or photos just forgetting to run. Hold my breath for a moment and know there is peace I just have hard time to accept it as it is and enjoy it

What made me take this picture?It was at the Trent river that little floating island in a visably still water was floating by and took my imagination in metaphor to life's river. My life is like a floating island. It moves on without me knowing how far it will flow.
Life - it is on that island. It keeps growing -
with God's guidance - and I wonder...

April 1st, 2011

Dead end to haiku entry for anthology
thoughts float in bright sunny morning...

No April Joke

poems whisper wisdom
life's Maestro orchestrates
natures instruments
filling air with songs
turning souls with love
...melting snow
spring smiles
reason to be...

just a night to think

There is a certain ritual one has to accomplish through the day. Existance necessities, daily cares. I happened to organize my book shelves that had a mixture of scrap paper to books of philosophy. Order? How and what for? Just looking through the piles of folders and scraps, books - I don't remember reading them, though I never put on a shelf a book before I read it. I came along a folder of the trip with the other writters last year to Cuba. Pictures from the Cuban writers I got close to, workshop poetry of my own including the corrections that was made at the workshops. My mind was away in an imaginative - poetical sphere. Seems like I need something to get me in the flow or flight of the thinking about words and how we use them. English isn't my original language, but I have learned to find more expresive words, or maybe more simple to say what I feel.
Why write the blog? I have no one else who could take time to exchange the abstract
soul's existance. Poems are the best way to say it, though it still leaves you alone with your thoughts. Like today, the sunshine was great over the pure white snow garden. Cardinals and blue jays had an occasional fight for rights to feed first. I watched them. One always gives up and both are fed.
So to keep myself busy I tried to arrange my bookshelves in some order to find some entertaining themes. I found a folder written last year February when I went to Cuba with the CCLA writers for relationship and workshops together. It just shook up my mind the things I found. Like my own writing ,some with corrections at the workshops, maybe a bit of a doubt that I am capable to write something good. It did stir my soul to shake up my vocabulary and it just kept running - running to where? To get my soul at peace by quietly mentioning " Life is not all by the way we make it".
Is that my Spirit trashing me to find the right way ? ...