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What Makes Me Come Alive? (Poetry)

5/14/2018

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by Phoenix Desertsong, Published Poet
Picture
Image © Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
“What Makes Me Come Alive?” is a poem about always pursuing what makes you happy and fulfilled, no matter what it takes.

May 2, 2018


What will make me come alive?
How will I burn forever bright?
With this eternal overdrive
Bathing in Creation's light

Knowing wrong from right
Means nothing in this
Birth of day from nights
Of innocent bliss

Pursuing a happiness
Undeterred in its method
Create at any and all costs
Even if you end up dead
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Afar (Poetry)

1/10/2018

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by Phoenix A. Desertsong, Staff Writer, Healer & Advocate
The Wallace Monument from afar (requires magnification !)
"Afar" is a short poem from late April 2017.

4-28-2017

"Afar"


To be here with you
A gift I don’t deserve
All these many years
From afar I observed

A hero worship
Can be a curse
Forgot who you are
Living life in reverse

Aren’t we all but mortal
Living under linear constraints

Trying to find a special portal
Where we can dream without restraints

(C) Phoenix A. Desertsong 2017


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Wake (Poetry)

1/3/2015

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by  Richard Rowell,  Write W.A.V.E. Media  Staff

Picture
The stars light up in your eyes

As you rise from a long night's sleep

Foggy vision as you step to the mirror

And ponder your beautiful reflection

Sometimes you wonder if you are

The only one to know the inside

It's never simple to see the real



You wonder if you're really awake

Cause everybody's moving too fast

You can't seem to catch up

You're always stuck in the past

Dragging your feet along

Trying to play along alright

Worried you'll wake up too late



Have you missed your sunrise?

The stars blanket your sky

Even when they're not to be seen

You're a spectacle by night

As you dance to the unheard tune

Your grace is unseen by the masses

And no one's there when you wake

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Can I (Poetry)

1/3/2015

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by  Richard Rowell,  Write W.A.V.E. Media  Staff

Picture
Can I speak through a word

And really tell you how I feel

Can I tell you I love you

And really tell you what I feel

Can I give you the treasure of treasures

And really tell you what you're worth

Can I hold you forever and forever

And really get what I really want?




Can I climb the highest peak

And really find adventure?

Can I spelunk the deepest cave

And really get to the bottom?

Can I cry enough till my eyes are dry

And will I wash away all this pain?

Can I promise you my best

And ask you to wash away

These emotional stains


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2006

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The Wire Man

12/14/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Dec. 13, 2014

An incredible work of art
Formed from cold steel
But when made to resemble
Human form
When it’s seen
It feels warm
So much planning
Twisting, bending
To achieve desired form
The creator decreed
The work a failure
But those sharp edges
And rough corners
Are only human
The true form
Of a man

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True Holiday Spirit (Haiku Poetry)

12/5/2014

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by Lyn Lomasi, Staff Writer
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
Holiday spirit's
Not about buying presents,
Not push and shove -- love    
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Traces of You (Poetry)

12/4/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Wicked places

Ugly faces

Yet everywhere I look

I’ve seen traces of you

I could write a book

Outlining hat you took

My heart, my soul, my pride

I’ve locked your memory

Up deep inside

 

Familiar faces

Bring back happy places

I could’ve run the races

But I just walked on the side

No one in which to confide

My deepest secret, the divide

That tears me apart inside

Traces of you

 

Memories of your face

And longing fruitlessly

To be locked in your embrace

I just can’t provide

The reasons that I hide

As my love that collide

Just can’t let you see

That I’ve cried

Over traces of you







Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

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Sunlight (Poetry)

12/3/2014

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by Richard Rowell,  Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
5-9-2005

Sunlight dances on your face

I’m in my warm safety place

And I can’t help but feel

I love you so, and now

My dreams are so real

There can be no doubt now

That I can’t be without you

 

Pretty ruffles and dresses

The stage lights glitter on your tresses

I sit and contemplate your beauty

With a smile, you see right through me

Looking inside, what do you see?

Can you see that deep

And beautiful part of me?

 

There can be no doubt

I can’t be without you!

Sunlight, forever

As long as we’re together

My soul feels light as a feather

And I feel young and free again

My Sunshine, light my way…


Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2005

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Specter (Poetry)

12/2/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain
The little shadow you've happened upon
Is not as helpless and shamed as it appears
Not as paralyzed by paranoia and fears
As may be thought on first inspection
Never trying to achieve any sort of perfection
This shadow child’s already shed a million tears
A specter become content with imperfections


There is beauty in darkness
A safe place to dwell within
There is no need to fear it
Sometimes to hide in the shadow
Is the best way to go
Keeping out of the sun
Before the world can kill you
With sensory overload


There is a long road
Best traveled at night
There won’t always be
Someone there to hold you tight
Keep out of plain view
But keep well aware
When it’s time to show
You’ll know the time is right




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005
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Photographic Memory (Poetry)

12/2/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Inside’s a maddening collage

Of vivid mental photography

Some of it dearly beautiful

But a lot of it pitiful

Sad stories repeat and proliferate

As all the tears flood around me

I find it increasingly hard to concentrate

 

Seeing those sad faces over and over

Always the best friend to the pushover

Trying to wake the sleeping children

From under their thick ignorant cover

Too much bullshit that’s been fed

Into their innocent lil’ heads

But truly they understand more

Than is expected and accepted

 

Cursed photographic memory

Forgettable scenes of the nobodies

Unforgettable thru unique perspective

With a mind well cognizant of

The fact we’re far more than bodies

Run by chemical action and reaction

Inside an album of the forgotten

My photographic memory’s a curse

Has me often living in reverse

My only comfort is that things

As they are - could be far worse




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005
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Prelude to Awakening (Poetry)

12/1/2014

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by Richard A. Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture

What a fantastic prelude

To an awakening most rude

You’ve all been blinded by the lies

They’ve made you so confused

What is left to reach for?

What should you awake for?

 

What does tomorrow have in store?

Just to repeat the same old bore?

There is a way out of this loop

Stop looking for secret messages

Hidden in your alphabet soup

 

Don’t let them make you jump

Through another unnecessary hoop

And now you awake anew

As today, you fly the coop



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005

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The Lonely Observer (Poetry)

12/1/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Pixabay, Public Domain

Rejection, neglect, what can I share with the world?

I’ll never have enough to fix it all

I look around and try to dissect all that I see, 

Why do I feel saving the world’s my call?

Formulate opinions with my intellect 

Why don’t I walk proudly instead of crawl?

Come up with reasons to explain all of it

I won’t have the net to break the fall




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2005
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The Lacquer (Poetry)

10/29/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture

February 10, 2008

Buried beneath the lacquer
The liquor stole your beautiful sight
Inside you suck on your inhaler
Searching for some inner light

What's left within for right
Is there any purpose to fight
You're fading even paler
The days are growing ever staler

This is a stage of fright
Darkened by eternal night
Hate pervades the valleys
And slips through the broken levees

Watch the cities wash away
As the citizens all pray
To their false idols of plastic
The end will be so fantastic!

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The Idle (Poetry)

10/28/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
The world falls to its knees

Every once in a while

To look up and stare

They have found themselves an idol



They cannot describe the experience

That they have been lifted above

Their little insignificant existence

To be accepted by open arms of love



They find their lives in ruins

The tears keep flowing

Can't deal with the truth

This day to day never knowing



What am I here for

Must set my sights

On a higher power

There must be something more



Some will look beyond

The faith, the beliefs

Try to find the answer

Science brings the mind relief



But in times the world meets

Challenges it can't understand

The world turns so bitter

Every one needs a steady hand.




Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004
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Lonesome A Long Time (Poetry)

10/27/2014

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by Joshua Packard, JRPSongs
Picture

I'm slowing down to a crawl

Even though I wanna run

Want to run with you all

I'm back here feeling alone

I've been here a long time now

Waiting all day for tomorrow

Following a dream that waits for me

On a road that's always going

Felt lonesome a long time

And the remedy is at my fingertips

And it won't be the flirt that finds me

For I see none with my eyes

All of those and none of them

Are viewed with these eyes of mine

And knowing of me will never be ours

Until knowing knows itself

When these verse are of your voice

And of a choir are made these rhyme

I've been lonesome for as long as I know

A barren soul houses us all

Though the hue of my vision is distorted

I long for when I meet you outside

This shell can be traveled through

But be wary of what is your method

Gentleness will only do

What we want in the beginning and after

So lonesome for a long time no more



Copyright (c) Joshua Packard 2004

Read more of Joshua's lyrics at JRPSongs.
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Strings (Poetry)

10/27/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
February 19, 2008

Strung up too tight
Stretched too far
Coiled up, thrown away
And shown the door
Pulled my strings
Left them in knots
Then let them go…

Pulled in all directions.
My heartbeat stops
My skin goes cold
And my head goes blank

Strung up too tight
Stretched too far
Coiled up, thrown away
And shown the door
Pulled my strings
Left them in knots
Then let them go…

Pulled my strings
Threw me in a corner
The dunce hat on my head
You and all your friends
Threw rotten scraps to me
They were all stale and cold

I reached for you.
But you were far away
The Chains were too tight
You showed me the floor
You yanked my heart
Then squeezed it tight
You made it burst…

Chained up so tight
Stretched too far
Coiled up, thrown away
And shown the door
Pulled my chains
Tied them in knots
Then let them go…

My Eyes so blind
I see a bridge too far
I, torn up, bashed aside
My life flashed, before my eyes…

I somehow crossed that bridge
Was shown the love of a pure heart
My pain is salved now, the past is gone
I lay wrapped up in a new love

I have found the deliverance
From that elusive significant other
And you’re left alone with your own chains
Dragging you down to your deserved hell…

Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2002-2008

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Mr. Good Guy (Poetry)

10/27/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
There I go again

Dancing to my theme song

I'm such a wondrous hero

Righting all the wrong

Only to discover

A twist or a turn in the plot

Another mystery to uncover


I'm Mr. Good Guy

Here to entertain and appease

Please keep me on reruns

I'd like a little more exposure please

Let's end this season on a cliffhanger

Let's give the yuppies a tease.


Here for a few more laughs

Only to be shut up

By the network's cancellation

How rude of them, to override me

Another corny hero show-off

They're calling me


Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2004
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Dream Montage (Poetry)

10/26/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture


No blood flow to my head

Drowsiness just a way of life

But here comes a thought

That I wish to write about

My dreams are acted out

Like a collage of movie scenes 

A dream montage

Keeping my head up

Pretty much impossible

What was that I was dreaming again?

So much like life inside

When my head plays it out

Then I forget so much back here

Place where the rules of nature

Need not apply in any way

Words can be so clumsy

In dream things can be 

So much more clearly stated



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2004
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Create (Poetry)

10/25/2014

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by Richard Rowell, Write W.A.V.E. Media Staff
Picture
Photo credit: Morguefile.com free photo
May 6, 2014

To create
There is no not
It is only ever
A matter of what

Not a when
For I always
Wish to create
But what to do

How and why
These reasons
Always elude me
And for who?

Do I create
Only for me
Or do I create
Simply to create?




Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2014

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Stanzas of Seven (Poetry)

10/25/2014

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by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Picture
Trying to get back my poetic mojo in early 2014, "Stanzas of Seven" is about my strange propensity to write seven-line stanzas. While I don't always aim for that particular structure, it happens more often than not in a lot of my work. So I decided to sort of dedicate these verses to this quirk found in so much of my poetry.

January 5, 2014


These stanzas of seven
When paragraphs fail me
Are a sort of heaven
For my self-expression
I didn't want to be a poet
Any longer, no more
Yet here I am again

These stanzas of seven
Are a bit of a form
Rhyme scheme is optional
But there must be structure
Some sort of order
To bring these thoughts 
Together in some fashion

I cannot shut down
And let my thoughts
Burden me any further
I am missing something
There is a great emptiness
That I do not know
Quite how to fill

I only know one remedy
But it is not perfect
I cannot pretend to hide
That I am lonely and afraid
That I will never be 
Anything, anyone of consequence
Any more than a rambling fool

These stanzas of seven
May be my last hope
To brainstorm away
For a solution to this
Malaise that won't go away
This suffering lack of purpose
For a faltering artist



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2014

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Is There a Theme? (Poetry)

10/25/2014

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by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Picture
January 5, 2014

Can I write to a theme?
Can I reflect on these words
And give you a reason
Beyond they needed to be written?

Are these reflections on life?
Or are they just pretty words?
I do not know what they are
They simply are what they are

Is there a theme to whatever I write?
Maybe there is to you, but I
Am not one to openly classify
I simply produce what I do



Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2014

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Chalk Dust (Poetry)

10/25/2014

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by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Sidewalk chalk
Photo credit: Morguefile.com free photo
Smoke trailing the nuclear rocket
Ahead's his palace and it’s gonna sock it
High tech bombers gonna chalk it up
Watch the fireworks, two thumbs up

What kinda world we livin' in?
To dreadfully punish every lil' sin
We make mistakes the moment we begin
Sit back & realize these are our kin

Every thing a deadly plan
Always trying to widen the span
Of what we believe as freedom for all man
But we only take as much as our players can

Then bring in the weapons of mass destruction
Seeing starting over here as better construction
And while democracy does serve its function
Warped minds can use it for dysfunction



Copyright (C) Richard Rowell 2002-2012
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I Heard Her Cry; Did You? (Poetry)

10/24/2014

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by Lyn Lomasi; Owner of Intent-sive Nature & the Brand Shamans network
Picture
I  heard her cry as they crumpled their papers
Scattering them over her beautiful floor
I heard her cry as they cut down 10 trees
Then, hundreds and thousands more

I heard her cry as they polluted her waters
With paper, plastic, oil, and cans
I heard her cry as they used that same water
To clean off their dirty hands

I heard her cry as they disturbed the animals
To build structures that polluted her sky
I heard her cry as they kept on going
Without even stopping to say hi.

I heard her cry as she realized their thoughts
Were not of her beauty and wondrous sights
I heard her cry as she fell apart
So they could rise to 'greater' heights

I heard the Earth cry as they paid her no mind
Too busy tending to their daily chores
Did you hear her cry too from all of her strife
Or were you one of those closing their doors?

---

This poem is pretty much self-explanatory. Those familiar with some of my poetry and articles may know that nature and taking care of the Earth is a passion of mine. Sometimes people get so caught up in their normal routine that they don't think about the Earth. There are many things people do, not realizing (or sometimes not caring) just how much impact it has on the planet. I often wish more people would open their doors to an eco-friendly change, so that the Earth might last longer.

Will they? What do you think?

*I originally published this via Yahoo Contributor Network
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Invisible Me (Poetry)

10/24/2014

1 Comment

 
by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
September 28, 2014

When you look
What do you see
A shell of someone
Or the invisible me
The one no one
Else seems to see
How am I such
A beautiful sight
For you to behold
I cannot say
But I do not care
As long as you
Love and adore
The invisible me


Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2014


1 Comment

Sights (Poetry)

10/24/2014

0 Comments

 
by Richard Rowell; Co-owner of Brand Shamans & Write W.A.V.E. Media
Picture
Image (c) Lyn Lomasi; All Rights Reserved
Oh, those pretty lights
Spotlighting those petty fights
Keep us wake on those long nights
Guiding our planes on their nightly flights

Oh, the sights
Oh, these plights
The nights, the blights
Which remain in my memory
Lord, did I just have an epiphany?

Oh, those street lights
Trying to prevent crashing frights
But never enough to save us
From Insanity's might
Leaving us in shambles
On this lonely night

Oh those sockets
Eye popping rockets
Taking off at light speed
A mess of photons is all we need
To see the destruction
The widespread reduction
Of Intelligence
The worldwide spread
Of Ignorance

Sights, of the plight
Stop, at the light
Flashing, end of the fight
No one's looking though,
Only if we see the light
Can our wrongs become right?

Oh, all of the sights,
Oh, all of these plights
All the nights, all the blights
Which remain in my memory
Lord, did I just have an epiphany?



Copyright (c) Richard Rowell 2002


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