Poems by smpalardy

entangled

trapped in the forest

as the trees were culled
the light penetrated the forest
it’s powerful magic awakening a beauty
a woman of secret elegant charm
not seen for many a seasoncaptured and trapped
in the soil of the bayou
by the curse of a witch
envious and resentful
of the lady’s allureas the forest warms up
the lady struggles and pleads
to be freed from the realm
of the witches damnation
but her pleading goes unheeded

has the witch triumphed
will her evil prevail
with time the young beauty
gets drawn back into her tomb of earth
never again to be heard of again.

 

 
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my woman

a smile that gleams and shines on my day
piercing crystalline pools of brown
focus on mine and melt me away
succulent lips licking inviting a deep kisstalented, creative and hard to define
so many facets drawing me close
yesterday, and always forever
you are my dream, my lover, my musewe caress each other with abandon
passion pours in rivulets between our skin
as we join, you make me tremble with excitement
intensity reveals the palpable ardor

you made me yours from the moment we met
i made you mine wth my unending quest
today we are one for each other
true love in our color, true love in our pleasure

will you be mine forever I ask
you are my reason for living with joy
i will give you any gift of your desire each day
i am devoted to you in a most blissful way


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Five Poems by smpalardy

my shelby

she sits quietly with unease
her heart is mean and strong
gleaming eyes sparkling ahead
her mouth gulping in air

 

flowing curves of sexy muscle
dominant and dynamic
dipped in liquid silver
she is a vigorous lady

– smpalardy



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my muse

my muse
sensual curves
consume my mind
she distracts
she compelsthe land is weaving
following her will
quietly giving her
reflections
liquid melding way afar

what golden gift awaits
this jagged interruption
is it of nature
or of man
a secret held by my sweet muse

– smpalardy


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beneath the rain

a tiny drop begins a rush 
bouncing off the tin sheets
of dull metal roofing
plink plunk plink

 

what once was insignificant
sheets of diamonds fall
waterfalls cascade and still
plink plunk plink

– smpalardy


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mind games

there lives in my head
a very strange lout
long in the wind
very short in the whata simple squatter
a guest in the house
throw him to the curb
he’s causing much doubt

jumble and muddle
i meld into the upset
raised up by that goon
thinking is hurting so much

why do i amuse him
playing into his games
i will myself stronger
shut out his intrusion

raised up by the fire
fueled by good thoughts
i finally dismiss him
casting him out from within

– smpalardy



rainbowstairs

seeking my rainbow

my mama taught me well
ideals, faith, scruples
my pa trained me well
conduct, character, norms

 

i struggled with morality
wrestled with the judgment
i clashed with assumptions
standards, attitudes, ideology

filled with doubt and uncertainty
i agonized over my integrity
i was perturbed by my fantasy
the crux of my essence

i climbed the stone steps upward
directed, coached, expected
they were hard and distressing
on the core of my integrity

suddenly i came to see
i need not be disturbed
for high above the route i took
there shone my reality

no ambiguity, no agony
no turmoil or discomfort
there appeared above the path
the rainbow of my authenticity

all doubt dissipated from my mind
my spirit glowed with happiness
my rainbow awaited with bright hues
guiding my happiness and truth.

– smpalardy





Poems by Louisa May Alcott

downloadAmerican novelist and poet Louisa May Alcott worked hard her entire life and eventually was able to make a name for herself. Born on November 29, 1832 in Germantown, Pennsylvania, Alcott came into the world as the daughter of two transcendentalist parents. She died on March 6, 1888 in Boston, Massachusetts. 

 

 

 

Fairy Song

The moonlight fades from flower and rose 
And the stars dim one by one; 
The tale is told, the song is sung, 
And the Fairy feast is done.
 
The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers, 
And sings to them, soft and low.
 
The early birds erelong will wake: 
'T is time for the Elves to go.
 

O'er the sleeping earth we silently pass, 
Unseen by mortal eye, 
And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float 
Through the quiet moonlit sky;-- 
For the stars' soft eyes alone may see, 
And the flowers alone may know, 
The feasts we hold, the tales we tell; 
So't is time for the Elves to go
 

From bird, and blossom, and bee, 
We learn the lessons they teach; 
And seek, by kindly deeds, to win 
A loving friend in each.
 
And though unseen on earth we dwell, 
Sweet voices whisper low, 
And gentle hearts most joyously greet 
The Elves where'er they go.
 

When next we meet in the Fairy dell, 
May the silver moon's soft light 
Shine then on faces gay as now, 
And Elfin hearts as light.
 
Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky 
With sunlight soon shall glow.
 
The morning star shall light us home: 
Farewell! for the Elves must go.



 

The Rock and The Bubble

 Oh! a bare, brown rock 
Stood up in the sea, 
The waves at its feet 
Dancing merrily.
 

A little bubble 
Once came sailing by, 
And thus to the rock 
Did it gayly cry,-- 

"Ho! clumsy brown stone, 
Quick, make way for me: 
I'm the fairest thing 
That floats on the sea.
 

"See my rainbow-robe, 
See my crown of light, 
My glittering form, 
So airy and bright.
 

"O'er the waters blue, 
I'm floating away, 
To dance by the shore 
With the foam and spray.
 

"Now, make way, make way; 
For the waves are strong, 
And their rippling feet 
Bear me fast along.
" 

But the great rock stood 
Straight up in the sea: 
It looked gravely down, 
And said pleasantly-- 

"Little friend, you must 
Go some other way; 
For I have not stirred 
this many a long day.
 

"Great billows have dashed, 
And angry winds blown; 
But my sturdy form 
Is not overthrown.
 

"Nothing can stir me 
In the air or sea; 
Then, how can I move, 
Little friend, for thee?" 

Then the waves all laughed 
In their voices sweet; 
And the sea-birds looked, 
From their rocky seat, 

At the bubble gay, 
Who angrily cried, 
While its round cheek glowed 
With a foolish pride,-- 

"You SHALL move for me; 
And you shall not mock 
At the words I say, 
You ugly, rough rock.
 

"Be silent, wild birds! 
While stare you so? 
Stop laughing, rude waves, 
And help me to go! 

"For I am the queen 
Of the ocean here, 
And this cruel stone 
Cannot make me fear.
" 

Dashing fiercely up, 
With a scornful word, 
Foolish Bubble broke; 
But Rock never stirred.
 

Then said the sea-birds, 
Sitting in their nests 
To the little ones 
Leaning on their breasts,-- 

"Be not like Bubble, 
Headstrong, rude, and vain, 
Seeking by violence 
Your object to gain; 

"But be like the rock, 
Steadfast, true, and strong, 
Yet cheerful and kind, 
And firm against wrong.
 

"Heed, little birdlings, 
And wiser you'll be 
For the lesson learned 
To-day by the sea.



 

Transfiguration

 Mysterious death! who in a single hour 
Life's gold can so refine 
And by thy art divine 
Change mortal weakness to immortal power! 

Bending beneath the weight of eighty years 
Spent with the noble strife 
of a victorious life 
We watched her fading heavenward, through our tears.
 

But ere the sense of loss our hearts had wrung 
A miracle was wrought; 
And swift as happy thought 
She lived again -- brave, beautiful, and young.
 

Age, pain, and sorrow dropped the veils they wore 
And showed the tender eyes 
Of angels in disguise, 
Whose discipline so patiently she bore.
 

The past years brought their harvest rich and fair; 
While memory and love, 
Together, fondly wove 
A golden garland for the silver hair.
 

How could we mourn like those who are bereft, 
When every pang of grief 
found balm for its relief 
In counting up the treasures she had left?-- 

Faith that withstood the shocks of toil and time; 
Hope that defied despair; 
Patience that conquered care; 
And loyalty, whose courage was sublime; 

The great deep heart that was a home for all-- 
Just, eloquent, and strong 
In protest against wrong; 
Wide charity, that knew no sin, no fall; 

The spartan spirit that made life so grand, 
Mating poor daily needs 
With high, heroic deeds, 
That wrested happiness from Fate's hard hand.
 

We thought to weep, but sing for joy instead, 
Full of the grateful peace 
That follows her release; 
For nothing but the weary dust lies dead.
 

Oh, noble woman! never more a queen 
Than in the laying down 
Of sceptre and of crown 
To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen; 

Teaching us how to seek the highest goal, 
To earn the true success -- 
To live, to love, to bless -- 
And make death proud to take a royal soul.





Yeah, Maybe – A Poem

Image result for maybe

via Daily Prompt: Maybe

yeah, maybe

maybe  yes and maybe not
i do not want to answer
i do not want to choose
maybe is my expertise
yeah, maybe

i roll my eyes
i huff my breath
my hands rise up
the shrug is next
yeah, maybe

you’ll have to wait
i don’t really know
i’ll have to guess
you’ll get to know
yeah, maybe

sm palardy



 

Seeking My Rainbow – A Poem

rainbowstairs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


seeking my rainbow

my mama taught me well
ideals, faith, scruples
my pa trained me well
conduct, character, norms

i struggled with morality
wrestled with the judgment
i clashed with assumptions
standards, attitudes, ideology

filled with doubt and uncertainty
i agonized over my integrity
i was perturbed by my fantasy
the crux of my essence

i climbed the stone steps upward
directed, coached, expected
they were hard and distressing
on the core of my integrity

suddenly i came to see
i need not be disturbed
for high above the route i took
there shone my reality

no ambiguity, no agony
no turmoil or discomfort
there appeared above the path
the rainbow of my authenticity

all doubt dissipated from my mind
my spirit glowed with happiness
my rainbow awaited with bright hues
guiding my happiness and truth.

sm palardy

Image result for born this way image



 

Mish-Mash of Inspiration

When I reflect on the word inspiration the the though that first comes to my mind is humanity. People can have great success financially; they can wield much power. However, if their humanity is lacking they will neither  be fulfilled nor will they truly contribute to society in any meaningful way. Image result for humanity

What is humanity and how do we cultivate it in ourselves? It is that part of us that speaks to our love, compassion, and interest for people (animals as well). How do we cultivate it? By starting with ourselves, for if we judge ourselves harshly or if we feel no inspiration to better our lives we will be unlikely to be very humane. If we cannot give ourselves these gifts, we will find it difficult to ourselves to grow, be an inspiration and better the sort of humankind – one person at a time.

Inspiration. Not perfection. Not putting all others before you. Inspiration to be your best.

 


Rudyard Kipling was an English poet who lived from 1865-1936. He also wrote many children’s stories. The poem’s line, “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two impostors just the same,” is written on the wall of the players’ entrance at Wimbledon.

If

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

 



 

 


 

The Invitation By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

This poem is an excerpt from the book, “The Invitation (1999)”, by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. Oriah is a spiritual counselor and story teller among other things. This poem offers an invitation to every single one of us to “show up” in the universe. She reminds us that we do not serve the universe by being small. Rather, we serve the universe by making the most out of our lives.

The Invitation

By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesnt interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

 


 

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Poems by Max Ehrmann

Max Ehrmann

Max Ehrmann (1872 – 1945 / Indianapolis, United States)

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

 


Whatever Else You Do

Whatever else you do or forbear,
impose upon yourself the task of happiness;
and now and then abandon yourself
to the joy of laughter.

And however much you condemn
the evil in the world, remember that the
world is not all evil; that somewhere
children are at play, as you yourself in the
old days; that women still find joy
in the stalwart hearts of men;

And that men, treading with restless feet
their many paths, may yet find refuge
from the storms of the world in the cheerful
house of love.


 
 

‘A Prayer’

Let me do my work each day; and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me, and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.

Though the world knows me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself.

Lift up my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself.

Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time’s olden memories that are good and sweet; and may the evening’s twilight find me gentle still.


‘Dark Days’

What fool shall say, “My days are fair,
God’s in his world and all is well,”
When half mankind shrieks in despair
Worse than in Dante’s flaming hell!I cannot sing in happy mood
While hostile armies take their toll.
On these dark days I toil and brood
With starless midnight in my soul.And yet, O World, O Life, O God!
I find myself, jest as the fool,
Believing in thy chastening rod,
Believing still that love must rule.



shush – a poem of liberation

 

shush

the enigma that is me
the keys to my mystery
confidential, baffling
monumental monstrosity

of intimate hush-hush

shush

deep inside me
hidden beside me
you and me
we’ve got them all
rotting in our souls

shush

the undisclosed
do eat the holes
scars fill the whole
furtive glances
do you know as I do?

shush

i fatigue from within
the burden is a demon
turning lies against me
self-esteem becomes a dream
my essence is denied

shush

i must scrutinize
emancipate
yes, liberate
the truth of my essence
the secrets that i hold

shush?

i embrace my individuality
my truth is convoluted
exceptional, commendable
misunderstood
some is undesirable

shush?

mental illness
yes, and more
i realize, my rainbow self
discover me i say to you
i dare you to explore

shush… no more

sm palardy


 

The 10% Rule – A Poem

205

 The 10% Rule

every life unfolds
on its own terms
every person fights for life
on their own terms

a game-plan for existence
life has the ball and is running
move right, move left, up and down
reacting to life and it’s vagaries

anguish, despair and vexation
the price of futile combat
life is complex and powerful
wielding weapons of mass depression

the constant worthless battle 
trying to control and manage
life is a formidable, tireless foe
yours and mine and theirs

the power is ours to do and make due
attitudes must be challenged
negative thoughts, feelings renounced
confidence and positivity breeds zest and zeal

the rule of 10% lives on
when life serves you torment and misery
become the 90% that transforms
life becomes wonder, victory, joy

– sm palardy