WILLINGNESS
In the willingness to feel,
there is healing. In the
choice not to closet, cast
aside or deny experience,
energy is freed, and I
dive deeper into life.
There may be maturity in
choosing not to act, but
there are no rewards for
suppression and denial.
To be fully alive is saying
yes to the wide array of
human feelings. When I
soften, release and breathe,
I discover I am more than
what I think, feel, reason,
or believe.
Poems from the Heart of Yoga
By Danna Faulds |
|
BREATH OF LIFE
I breathe in All That Is –
Awareness expanding
to take everything in,
as if my heart beats
the world into being.
From the unnamed
vastness beneath the
mind, I breathe my
way to wholeness
and healing.
Inhalation. Exhalation.
Each breath a “yes,”
and a letting go,
a journey, and a
coming home.
Poems from the Heart of Yoga
By Danna Faulds |
|
12 Rows Deep In A Dream
12 rows deep in a dream
I looked upon the screen
and saw the book was there
waiting to be written.
Looking for ideas,
I closed my mind
and made love to the stars.
Images forming like cloud faces in the sky,
I floated backwards in a burgundy chair,
12 rows deep in a dream.
Slumbering, with words falling into place,
out of night's unconscious space,
light of stars showing the way,
the pen it moves, it does not stray.
The hand is amused by its motion,
reaching down into the ocean,
the salt water and crashing waves,
resurrecting from the graves,
pages of pure emotion,
12 rows deep in a dream.
Sinking far below,
with the universe in tow,
sentences cast like shooting stars,
filling up a ream,
words upon the whiteness,
12 rows deep in a dream.
-- Richard Paul Brown |
|
Future Shock Is Now!
Future shock is now!
Just ask the two-headed cow,
whose milk is radioactive.
There's too much cloning,
over cell phoning,
at least while driving,
are we merely surviving?
Future shock is now.
Bumper to bumper,
an ocean of red tail lights,
filling up the roads,
nowhere to swim out to,
furture shock is now.
Loneliness traveling through cellular phones,
constant chatter,
denying the silence,
the spaces in between.
Future shock is now,
billboards tell us so,
we're speeding ever faster,
no such thing as slow.
A population explosion,
beach and life erosion,
steady decay corrosion,
eating steel beams in slow motion.
Industrial city dis-ease,
subway, trolley squeeze,
"Give me some space, please!"
Future shock is now.
Ugly.
The Earth posts a losing score,
Eden is no more.
Are humans winning the game?
It's a shame.
Whose to blame?
Who dares take the final bow?
You?
Me?
The two-headed cow?
Future shock is now.
-- Richard Paul Brown |
A.D.D. Poem
I feel like breaking something,
I have nothing to break.
I feel like taking something,
I have nothing to take.
I want to EXPLODE!
And let my anger fly.
I feel like splitting a wooden beam over my head,
Punching a cement wall,
Until I feel release.
Enough of cold winter,
I'm sick of this death,
I need green and Spring,
A warm, wonderful breath.
I want to get out of my body,
Never turn back,
Release the world
And live in a shack-
With a candle,
A jug of wine,
And silence.
-- Richard Paul Brown
|
|
Behind the Dam
Behind the dam,
on the other side of concrete blocks.
A water well of tears,
waiting to burst out.
Emotions waiting for the fall.
A healing waterfall rushing out,
pushing out painful memories long held back.
Years and tears of hidden dam-age.
Open up! Let them out!
Feel them swelling from your heart's spout.
The warm, moist pulse gushing forth,
wet salt drops rolling down.
Light and heat,
energy boring through the dam.
Knocking down the blocks,
melting with the warmth of love.
Concrete turned to sand, water flowing out,
tearing through the silt.
The breaking of the dam,
the poring forth of love,
the healing force of liquid light,
washing the heart center clean.
-- Richard Paul Brown |
