Category Archives: Poem

Purple flowers, Old Louisville 19

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7 May 2017
Old Louisville
Louisville, KY

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Filed under Louisville, Poem

Purple, not flowers, suitcase

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Travel in purple style.
29 April 2017
MSP

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It comes this night

It comes this night.

Faintly,
ever so faintly,
it comes.

Above the roar
of anger and hatred,

Above the howl
of prejudice and bigotry,

Above the maelstrom
of systems and structures,

Above the crash
of violence and war,

Above the groan
of doubt and despair,

Above the dis-ease
of heartache and heartbreak

Above the tumult
of turmoil and trouble

Above the clamor
of struggle and strife

Above it all,
despite it all
because of it all,

It comes.

Faintly,
ever so faintly,
it comes.

A baby’s cry,
proclaiming
life and
love and
justice and
peace and
hope,
this night
and all nights.

24 December 2016
Goochland, Virginia

 

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Filed under Advent, Poem, Uncategorized

But there’s no Irish whiskey, so what’s the point?

JamesonI know why
the rum is all gone.

Well,
technically
I don’t. Since
there was never any rum to begin with,
it can’t be all

gone.

But I wonder

why clothes are pouring out of the hamper.
And I wonder
why the sink is full of dishes.
Again.

A cooperative poem
Words – Mark Koenig
Formatting – Michelle Barthel
Title – Ginna Bairby

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Filed under Friends, Photo, Poem

Declaration

Independence.

Live free.
Live full.
Live well.

Independence from
old patterns,
learned habits,
undeserved guilt.

Live free.
Live full.
Live well.

Live free.
Live full.
Live well.

Independence
in the coming year,
on this very day,
at every moment.

Live free.
Live full.
Live well.

Independence
to laugh
to love
to live.

Live free.
Live full.
Live well.

24 December 2015
Cleveland Heights, OH

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Grace

Waking, sleeping dreams,
alike haunted,
we stumble forward;
no need to look back,
we bear the past within us;
only by grace
can we escape.

Cleveland Heights, Ohio
22 December 2015

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No eternal transaction

No eternal transaction,
struck at a crossroads,
sealed at midnight,
while the air reeks of sulphur,
but bit by bit,
choice by choice,
piece by piece,
I sell my soul
until I know longer resemble
who I want to be,
hope to be,
am intended to be.

27 October 2015
The Shire
Manhattan, New York
Inspired by The Price of My Soul by Bernadette Devlin

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