In the measure that you master yourself, that you control your mental forces instead of being controlled by them, in just such a measure will you master affairs and outward circumstances.   -James Allen

SIX WORD STORY

Pushing her over, his feet slipped.

   -Moshia Pen

#sixwordshortstory

 

 

 

ROSE COLORED GLASSES

I weep for humanity

All the pain and cruelty 

We inflict each other

We inflict ourselves 

So bitter with pain the cards dealt

Darkness transmuted to Gothic art

Applying salve to a wounded heart

With rose colored glasses

Will our past ever forgive our mistakes

I close my eyes in agony 

And pray to awake in a place

Where eventually love conquers hate.

BROWN COTTON SHEETS

Gently he parted her thighs

With passion filled eyes 

and trembling fingers

Then unsheathed his instrument

Surgical steel pierced her 

Searing hot and sweet 

Melting in the heat of her passion

Body and soul became one

Forever intertwined in time 

Yours and mine faded to ours

Locked in loves womb 

They made  secret vows

That were never given voice 

To speak of, neither values,

Nor goals or depth of intimacy

Wrote their own history

On brown cotton sheets

In a cozy little cottage by the sea

Where he gently parted her knees

On brown cotton sheets.

-Mo Pen

STARING OUT THE WINDOW

Ravaged by pain

My heart lost sight

Of the horizon before me

All else but pain blurry 

My lot weighed down heavy

I screamed out 

come get me

But no one heard

No one ever hears the screams 

Yet they're loud enough to summon floods

drowning our dreams

I sit staring out windows 

At far away moon beams

Trying to decipher exactly what life means

Searching for some small vice to cleave to

Some sentiment  I could lean to 

To salvage a sliver of rapture

Somehow recapture the fervor 

To heal this contusion 

Perhaps my heart needs removal

That my temperament may improve

Life without luster is frightening

When all the excitement turns to fear

And the voices that you hear are all negative

Contorting perspective 

Our eyes look without transduction 

Not seeing where salvation lies

We cry tears of fire

That scorch our faces

Our hands are blackened 

Gathering tar and cotton

Our morals slacken

We adapt to our surroundings

No matter how confounding 

In fright of our light out-shinning the crowds

Rather hide in the thick than stand out

Rather be silenced quick 

Than speak out

Lest our voices crack 

and the pain seeps out...

Experience

Life has so many lessons intricately woven into the fabric of our every experience.  I feel likened to a sponge  soaking up new wisdom. My ear drums and eye gates are the ways in which they penetrate to pollinate my consciousness.  We could go blind and never notice, so caught up is our focus elsewhere. My advice: smell the roses and watch a few sunsets, taste the nectar and ride on the wind. Explore your majestic environment. Live to learn and learn to live.

I am not where I've been

Or where I now stand

I am me

Unequivocally

Not my situation defining me

I am ever changing,

Ever evolving to a better me

I am possibility unfolding

The hands that you're holding

I am mother, sister, daughter, lover, friend

Far too vast to comprehend

Or to be summed up

to neatly fit one label or title

You never know who you might run into

So don't box me in

Boxes won't hold me

The world can't control me

I am a wild flower

And who I am is my super-power...