Author: women who think too much

Goodbye Summer

Goodbye Summer

Where Are My Words?

Where are my words?
I haven’t heard a sound.
They sometimes
Pour from my fingers
Dripping all over
Flowery notepaper
Napkins and notebooks
Anything that makes a sound.
Then the words, the damn
Ugly, beautiful, painfully real
Words, they just go away.
Up to the sky like a balloon
Floating just out of reach.
My mind goes blank
My heart goes numb
My fingers heartless as steel.

Aren’t We Having Fun?

RIP Michael33

The Vision of Poets

The coffee didn’t brew
The shower didn’t run
The room…too cold for you
Aren’t we having fun?

Laid out clothes never again to be worn
Cats basking in the morning sun
I’m reminiscing of days since I was born.
Aren’t we having fun?

No sounds of pickin’ guitar
Or TV showing the political run
I pray he hasn’t gone too far
Aren’t we having fun?

No pain to feel
No meds on the tongue
I keep thinking this can’t be real
Aren’t we having fun?

A warm embrace and kiss on the face
In final moments with the one
That I can still hear echoes of his voice saying…Aren’t we having fun?

It is with great sadness that I share the passing from this life to the next of Michael33, my daddy. Thank you for following his poetry blog. I hope it gave you as much joy as it did…

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Breath of Life

https://patcegan.wordpress.com/2011/08/03/breath-of-life-2/
Awesome…

Source of Inspiration


I am the Breath of Life
restoring you each time you breathe.
I am your heart beat, your sacred
connection to the universal
circle of love. I am your
eyes seeing to other
dimensions, realities layered
waiting for you to explore.

There is not part of you that
is not sacred. Each has a
purpose, a special knowledge
from ancient times.

Self-hate, self-destruction,
no matter how slight, is an
attack on the Creator from
whence you came.

Think of all the ways
you neglect and abuse this
intricate gift made with
such loving care. Be
grateful for the miraculous
gift of YOU–totally unique
from all others. God calls
you His Beloved, and so you are!

****************************************************

submitted to Monday Potluck Poetry

http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/2011/08/poetry-potluck-week-47-history-and.html

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NO LONGER A FOOL

Absolutely beautiful…

The Reluctant Poet

By Keza/Spiritedsoul And Charles Robert Lindholm – The Reluctant Poet

How Did I
Not Know
You Possessed
The Coldest Heart?

Your Sweet Words
Deceived Me
With Promises,
Tempting Me
To Believe

Your Fiery Passion,
Your Hungry Hands,
And Wild Desires,
And Lies About Love,
Hid The Truth

No Words Of Love
Or Warm Embrace
Will Erase
What I Have Learned,

I Am, No Longer A Fool

Now
Your Words
Are Barbed Wire Kisses
That Cut Me
To The Quick
And Leave
Me In Tears,

My Punishment
For Trusting You

I Seek Refuge
In The Darkest Corner
Of My Soul,
The Safest Place To Sit,
Far Away From You

Where I Can Wonder,
And Plan My Escape,
Into A Life
That Once Again
Is Mine

Copyright © 2020 Keza/Spiritedsoul And Charles Robert Lindholm – The Reluctant Poet
All Rights Reserved – 09-04-2020 – 11:30 a.m.

Thanks so much to Keza for…

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The Importance Of Thoughts

https://iwriteher.com/2020/09/13/the-importance-of-thoughts/
I love this author’s writing.❤

I Write Her

I’m embarrassed to say this; I don’t know who prompted these thoughts as I’ve somehow managed to lose the link where I read their opinion piece. I usually try to be very good about giving a hat-tip to those who have inspired me but not this time. Perhaps, I initially saw the post on WordPress or maybe Facebook, but I can’t remember now. So, if it was one of my readers, please comment below so I can thank you properly for this inspiration, and link them back to your post!

Reviews are honest feedback from the reader’s experience, which allows the writer to benefit from praise and constructive criticism. It also gives those seeking a new book to read to decide whether they would enjoy the book. I can’t tell you enough how important this is for the writer’s psyche but also sales! People who are earnestly reading the reviews…

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The Broken Mirror

From https://lostindystopia.com/2020/05/20/the-broken-mirror/
Love the last line.

LOST IN DYSTOPIA

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In the cracks and shards of the mirror are broken promises and forgotten dreams, false memories and the missing pages of an unfinished book,

the frightened child hiding under a bed from the tyranny of shame and the blame and the strap,

the lunatic father who never came home, who tells you to confront your enemies as he beats the shit out of you, who tells you to harden up as he crushes you like a flower,

the mother who refuses to hold your hand, who loves only herself, who lives with regret and punishes you for not being perfect,

the child-parent who wants to be your friend but makes an enemy, the misfits of generations staring back and recognising one of their own, the devoted son who feels only guilt,

the friend who loves you and the one who became nothing, the friend who ghosted you and the one…

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The Summer Is Done

The sunflowers reach for the sun
they don’t know that the summer…
the summer is done.
Still bursting with tiny, green, closed buds
and the mother plant proudly presenting
the huge yellow sunflowers that I love.
It will only take one frosty night
and then my beautiful sunflowers
you will no longer be mine.
To the ground, to the ground
sunflower petals and seeds will fall
but I know…I know you will come back
shooting up in the spring, then
once more my sunflowers
you will be mine
until the first frost of fall.

Summer Dreams

It’s so sad when summer goes away.

I thought if my love was strong enough

Maybe this time she would stay.

So, I chased the sunshine

I kissed the sunflowers

I danced with honeybees

I nurtured wildflowers.

I ran with the butterflies

I played in the sunshine

For hours and hours and hours.

I grew daisies and vegetables

And embraced the sun showers.

I woke each morning and chased the day

Then followed the sun’s departure

As daylight slowly drifted away.

I loved this summer like it was my first,

my last and everything in-between

and when the snow covers my windows

I’ll close my eyes and I’ll dream…

I’ll dream of summer.

LIFE AS AN EXTROVERTED INTROVERT – BY ELLIN CURLEY

Love this!
https://teepee12.com/2020/08/28/life-as-an-extroverted-introvert-by-ellin-curley/

Serendipity Seeking Intelligent Life on Earth

I learned a new phrase recently, ‘extroverted introvert.’ I’d never heard it before but I instantly recognized that it applied to me and even explained some things about myself that had always puzzled me.

I have extrovert qualities but at heart I always felt like an introvert – so I could never figure out where I fit  on the spectrum. I would often be disappointed in myself when I didn’t feel as outgoing and social as I thought I should. I would beat myself up when I craved down time before and after bursts of socializing.

But that’s apparently natural for extroverted introverts. In fact, extroverted introverts are defined by their periods of sociability coupled with essential periods alone to decompress and recharge. This defines me to a tee.

Some people at our marina can sit on the dock and chat for hours. But after a while, I have to…

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A game worth playing.

https://caterpillartobuterfly.wordpress.com/2020/08/17/a-game-worth-playing/
YES!

Caterpillar To Butterfly

It has been stated by Thomas Szasz that what people really need and demand from life is not wealth, comfort or esteem but games worth playing. He who cannot find a game worth playing is apt to fall prey to accidie, defined by the Fathers of the Church as one of the Deadly Sins, but now regarded as a symptom of sickness. Accidie is a paralysis of the will, and failure of the appetite, a condition of generalize boredom, total disenchantment—”God, oh God, how wary, stale, flat and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!” Such a state of mind, Szasz tells us, is a prelude to what is loosely called “mental illness,” which, so Szasz defines this illness as myth, nevertheless fills half the beds in hospitals and makes multitudes of people a burden to themselves and to society.

Seek, above all, for a…

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You Don’t Let Me, 2013

Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

You let me cook
You let me clean
I wash our clothes
I sweep up my dreams.

You let me shop
You let me sew
I have it all
Computers, books and clothes.

You don’t let me
See how you feel
You don’t let me near
Any part of you that’s real.

You don’t let me
Close in our
King size bed
I rebel, but only inside my head.

You don’t let me
Love you
I don’t know why
I know one day, I won’t even try.

5-8-13

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