Listen to my story, it is so like yours, you do not know.
Don’t close your eyes.
See past the lines
That life has left upon my face.
It was not so long ago that I too felt the world a-changing.
Looked for laughter in friends around me.
Longed for music in my ears.
No time for tears, no time for tears.
Truth is, youngens,
Our world waits for no one,
Take the bull by the horns,
Time’s a-wastin’
Life is just flyin’ by.
Stop! Look up!
That’s where you want to go.
Reach your hands up and catch a star!
If you believe, then that’s what you are!
Truth is, youngens,
You ain’t got a clue
about life,
about love,
about you.
Not yet.
But when you do,
You need a voice that the world will hear.
You need a voice to ring out loud and clear.
You need a voice, so practice now.
Your mistakes are small,
‘Cause you are young,
And I won’t let you fall.
But when you are tall
It will be too late
And there ain’t goin’ to be no
Me to whisper in your ear:
Our world waits for no one.
Take the bull by the horns,
Time’s a wastin’,
Life is just flyin’ by,
Stop! Look up!
That’s where you want to go.
Reach your hands up and catch a star!
If you believe, then that’s what you are!
Stop! Take a listen!
The children are still marching.
When their voices reach you will you be ready?
Don’t close your eyes.
The world’s a-swiftly changing.
Stop! Can you hear them?
Children are still starving!
Don’t plug your ears with music to their weeping.
For life is soon to cross its path upon your face as well.
Yes!
Don’t stop! Let those tears fall and mix
with your laughter.
For your laughter is your voice of change
In this ever-changing world and
Our world waits for no one.
Be brave!
Take the bull by the horns!
Time’s a wastin’,
Life is just flyin’ by.
Stop! Look up!
That’s where you want to go.
Reach your hands up and catch a star!
If you believe, then that’s what you are!
Find your voice and sing the change!
MGR 3/27/2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Whisper
It was a whisper that swept across my cheek
soft and lonely
but all the same
just as startling
as a chill harsh lash
It touched my skin gently like a thought that almost lives
and then is gone
never to be born
never to be remembered in this world
except perchance in dreams
It whipped its tail and stung the corner of my eye
as it pretended a gracious farewell
foreshadowing the pain
ensuing in its wake
and just as when the fire licks your skin
and waits in devilish delight for the unending burn to begin
my tears ran after Love
which had taken its cruel leave
and I was alone
with only the whisper
for a memory.
3-18-2009
MGR
soft and lonely
but all the same
just as startling
as a chill harsh lash
It touched my skin gently like a thought that almost lives
and then is gone
never to be born
never to be remembered in this world
except perchance in dreams
It whipped its tail and stung the corner of my eye
as it pretended a gracious farewell
foreshadowing the pain
ensuing in its wake
and just as when the fire licks your skin
and waits in devilish delight for the unending burn to begin
my tears ran after Love
which had taken its cruel leave
and I was alone
with only the whisper
for a memory.
3-18-2009
MGR
Saturday, March 7, 2009
A little bit of romance.
I want to share more poetry with my family and friends, so here is my newest piece. My poems are inspired by events or times that have made an impression in my life, whether for the good or ill. I have tried to choose pieces I think others would enjoy. I hope you will enjoy this one also, because as for all of my work, they come from deep within me.
To Walter, You are My Sun
Golden eyelashes,
Golden haze,
Golden memory,
Of yesterday.
Was it but a few hours ago?
I lay in your arms?
Swallowed in the blue ocean of your eyes?
Your arms promised to keep me from drowning.
I begged them to let me drown.
I would do anything for the warmth of the sun,
Like a smile from heaven kissing my soul.
March 7, 2009
Love,
MGR
To Walter, You are My Sun
Golden eyelashes,
Golden haze,
Golden memory,
Of yesterday.
Was it but a few hours ago?
I lay in your arms?
Swallowed in the blue ocean of your eyes?
Your arms promised to keep me from drowning.
I begged them to let me drown.
I would do anything for the warmth of the sun,
Like a smile from heaven kissing my soul.
March 7, 2009
Love,
MGR
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Inspired by my students.
From a Teacher’s Broken Heart
The classrooms were built on treasures from the sea,
Crushed to almost be unrecognizable
Except when passing by,
The rays of the sun
Catch the shattered creature’s bones and make them glitter
Like sunken treasure brought to surface once again.
The sea is now smooth black asphalt,
Except for the abyss of cracks where monsters used to hide.
The only pattern of the seafloor is the weathered sun-bleached boardwalk
That lead the students to a maze of classroom doors which block out the cloudless sky.
The only waves that hit the shore are the waves of thumping feet
As the children run and jump, walk and skip, clump and bump along their way.
They come in waves when the school bell rings,
An echo of the dutiful sailor
Who always had an eye on the sea for mermaids, strange lights,
Eager to explain the unexplainable.
Now the children crush the ocean treasures, glistening in the sun,
In such a rush to be on time, to follow rules, to conform.
No time to stop and notice the cypress growing from the abysmal crack in the asphalt sea.
No time to pause and find a seahorse skeleton glistening among grains of sand.
Seashells broken by time, and sand dollars longing to be held by pubescent hands,
Still smooth with young skin.
The time has passed to wonder
How a palm tree has wound its way through the rusted wire fence
Which is soldiering a patch of white sand
Which the long-necked, long-legged, sea birds often visit and leave a map of tracks.
The bell has rung,
No time to wonder,
No time investigate
Where or what the bird was after.
A speckled lizard, smooth and brown?
A quick snake, silent and startling?
No time to be free as a sailor on the sea,
And see the beauty and think for oneself.
The bell has rung,
And the children are told what to think,
What to do,
When to do it,
What to learn.
No time for the treasures of the earth, those times are in the past.
No time for curiosity.
February 19, 2009
The classrooms were built on treasures from the sea,
Crushed to almost be unrecognizable
Except when passing by,
The rays of the sun
Catch the shattered creature’s bones and make them glitter
Like sunken treasure brought to surface once again.
The sea is now smooth black asphalt,
Except for the abyss of cracks where monsters used to hide.
The only pattern of the seafloor is the weathered sun-bleached boardwalk
That lead the students to a maze of classroom doors which block out the cloudless sky.
The only waves that hit the shore are the waves of thumping feet
As the children run and jump, walk and skip, clump and bump along their way.
They come in waves when the school bell rings,
An echo of the dutiful sailor
Who always had an eye on the sea for mermaids, strange lights,
Eager to explain the unexplainable.
Now the children crush the ocean treasures, glistening in the sun,
In such a rush to be on time, to follow rules, to conform.
No time to stop and notice the cypress growing from the abysmal crack in the asphalt sea.
No time to pause and find a seahorse skeleton glistening among grains of sand.
Seashells broken by time, and sand dollars longing to be held by pubescent hands,
Still smooth with young skin.
The time has passed to wonder
How a palm tree has wound its way through the rusted wire fence
Which is soldiering a patch of white sand
Which the long-necked, long-legged, sea birds often visit and leave a map of tracks.
The bell has rung,
No time to wonder,
No time investigate
Where or what the bird was after.
A speckled lizard, smooth and brown?
A quick snake, silent and startling?
No time to be free as a sailor on the sea,
And see the beauty and think for oneself.
The bell has rung,
And the children are told what to think,
What to do,
When to do it,
What to learn.
No time for the treasures of the earth, those times are in the past.
No time for curiosity.
February 19, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
For My Husband, Who Calls Me His Lioness....
The Lioness and the Gryphon
With eyes closed, she opened her heart and followed blindly
A path already drawn that so many others before her had taken.
Or so she had believed; until the veil lifted like a dying mist,
Chased away by haunted dreams.
With death, come bitter truths to hard realities.
Bravery sometimes means letting the frigid wind blast one full in the face,
Forcing eyes to open to what was before one all along. And looking back
To understand what lay behind was the edge of Juliet's dagger.
Love died that day.
Innocence mourned to the tune of unrealized dreams.
Her first breath was not on her own;
Alone for so long, she did not see this until the fog of betrayal dissolved.
The flutter of two birds’ hearts never left her, a golden and a brown.
The birds lifted the chains of unfair burden and
She was able to lift her chin and look at the glorious sunrise.
Sadness, regret, ran away to hide in the shadows cast by the glaring sun.
As the air cleared, she need only trust the direction her feet were pointed to find the treasure.
The treasure was guarded with the lifeblood of the legendary gryphon.
Like the lioness who fights to the death for her young, she too protected a valuable legacy.
His presence was a ward from the night horrors of the past.
Enveloped in the wings of his protection,
The gryphon did not misuse the command of her heart
And now guards her with his lifeblood, as his most cherished treasure.
The seed of the woman, which lay deep inside the smile of the girl,
Found the warmth and magic of a gentle and passionate love.
And at night, when the sun is asleep, and the ghosts of the past threaten,
The Gryphon, whose lifeblood now flows with pure love, beats his wings,
To the rhythm of his Lioness’s heartbeats,
And the wraiths are whisked away on the cool night breeze.
December 2008 MGR
With eyes closed, she opened her heart and followed blindly
A path already drawn that so many others before her had taken.
Or so she had believed; until the veil lifted like a dying mist,
Chased away by haunted dreams.
With death, come bitter truths to hard realities.
Bravery sometimes means letting the frigid wind blast one full in the face,
Forcing eyes to open to what was before one all along. And looking back
To understand what lay behind was the edge of Juliet's dagger.
Love died that day.
Innocence mourned to the tune of unrealized dreams.
Her first breath was not on her own;
Alone for so long, she did not see this until the fog of betrayal dissolved.
The flutter of two birds’ hearts never left her, a golden and a brown.
The birds lifted the chains of unfair burden and
She was able to lift her chin and look at the glorious sunrise.
Sadness, regret, ran away to hide in the shadows cast by the glaring sun.
As the air cleared, she need only trust the direction her feet were pointed to find the treasure.
The treasure was guarded with the lifeblood of the legendary gryphon.
Like the lioness who fights to the death for her young, she too protected a valuable legacy.
His presence was a ward from the night horrors of the past.
Enveloped in the wings of his protection,
The gryphon did not misuse the command of her heart
And now guards her with his lifeblood, as his most cherished treasure.
The seed of the woman, which lay deep inside the smile of the girl,
Found the warmth and magic of a gentle and passionate love.
And at night, when the sun is asleep, and the ghosts of the past threaten,
The Gryphon, whose lifeblood now flows with pure love, beats his wings,
To the rhythm of his Lioness’s heartbeats,
And the wraiths are whisked away on the cool night breeze.
December 2008 MGR
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