Adventures WorldRace SethBarnes Sponsorship Giving

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Now tax-season has come to an end, today begins the time to spend.
Don’t charge me much, my income is small, but what I give please take it all.
Take the rhythm of the rhymes
Take the lessons,
Take the times. 
Take delight from hope in your swell life  
To the day we see beyond our strife
May joy and love always transcend
Sit back relax, and I’ll begin
 
In Honor of Poetry Month
 
Free
by: Alisha Sufit (1946- )
 

I thought of life

as though it were a space

with walls and floor

 and ceiling,

sought to make it solid, fixed,

construct it well,

so I should have security of place.
Then I heard the small stars’

laughter pealing far away.

”Fall!” they cried,

”and fly,

for you cannot break your bones,

nor die.
There is no ground

upon which you can land.

It’s all pure ether,

solid as the sand

that fills Egyptian deserts,

solid as the water in the sea.

Let go and fall

and then you will be free.”

 

 

What is Life?

 By: S. Moore

I asked a hoary headed man,
Whose face was haggard, worn and wan,
Scarred with the marks of many a strife
If he could tell me what is life.
He sighed and drooped his withered head,
And leaning on his staff he said:
“Life is a scene of toil and pain,
A search for pleasure or for gain,
A few short years of joys and sorrows,
A race to catch the bright tomorrows,
A flickering flame, a transient gleam,
A bubble passing down the stream,
A flower doomed to swift decay–
To bud and bloom and pass away.
Life is the little space we crave
Between the cradle and the grave,
And soon we cross the little space
And terminate the toilsome race,
Then wearied, we resign our breath,
And life is swallowed up in death.”

If death, said I, must end the strife
Such wretched living can’t be life,
For who could bear thro’ night to grope
Were there no morn to cheer his hope?
Your life is death and cannot be
The life immortal craved by me.
I ask’d a Saint, whose joylit face
Assur’d me of his inward grace,
If he could solve the question sought
And satisfy my anxious thought.
A gleam of hope illum’d his brow,
While with a reverential bow
He said: “‘Tis life to know the Lord
And Christ, the true and living word.
This life of faith, or life divine,
Or everlasting life is mine;
‘Tis life to triumph over death,
He lives who knows his sins forgiven,
He only lives, who lives for heaven.
There must be first a death of sin
Before you have this life within,
But when the earnest you obtain
To live is Christ, to die is gain.
I know this mortal house of clay
Will soon dissolve and pass away,
Then my immortal soul shall rise
To endless life beyond the skies.”
Said I, if thus to live be life
Then let me rush into the strife,
And live to Him whose grace divine
Can quicken this dead soul of mine,
And give me life and conquering faith 


To triumph over sin and death.

 
 

Artist: Bradley Hathaway
Title: The Hug Poem

I read about how you touched them and they were healed
Or even if someone just touched your cloak they were forever changed
You let a broken women bathe your feet in her tears
And you washed your best friend’s feet
I am just wondering though did you just ever hug people

I mean I know that it is a silly question and all I am sure you would have why wouldn’t you
But its one of those things that was never mentioned that got me thinking about it

And how whenever there was a touch from you sins were forgiven and sickness fell
I think I’m caught up in my sins last time I checked all my body parts were properly working, nothing special here
I am just a kid with a heavy heart these passing sunrises and sunsets

I don’t think our encounter would have ended up in the gospels or anything
Because all I really need is a hug
That is ok for me to imagine right
That’s not going to be conflicting with any sort of theology is it
Ok good, then hug me

But not one of these side ways one arm around the neck type hugs
Or the ghetto right hand clasp fists elbows to chest pit pat on the back back
Or you put your right arm over my right arm and I put my left arm over your left arm and we make this weird sort of diagonal thing
Nah none of those

BEAR HUG ME MAN
Take your old school carpenter arms and throw them over my upper body leaving my arms dangling underneath yours somewhere and I can barely move them because your squeezing so hard
But don’t pick me up and make my back pop because I hate it when people do that

And hold me, hold me here in your arms until I start to cry because
I WANT TO CRY
But I just can’t seem to do it on my own
I have been teary eyed once recently but not even enough for a drip down my cheek

Theres just hurt in my soul that needs to be purged so hold me in this hold pose until the pain is flowing from my eyes and nose