Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.
T.S. Eliot (via bodasdesangre)
A piece of your heart wandered across my path
Unexpected but welcome
You took my thoughts, watered them
A garden of passionate words grew
Thank you for your insight
Pulling out the hidden secrets in my message
the In Between
In reply to the question I posed in, “I think too much”, earlier today
takingstockofwhatmattersmost wrote, “You must walk along the razors edge of reading and writing…not to mention family, friends, work, etc.”
I cut myself on razors.
I am not good at juggling.
I am not good at balancing.
I am not good at boundary setting.
I tend to be All or Nothing.
All in.
Or all out.
A Balanced Life is the In Between.
Striving for that.
May take a whole lifetime to achieve it.
I’m having a hard time with this lesson.
Hoping I have more ahead of me, than the years I’ve lived to date.
© 2011 Turquoise Tangles
The truest sentence: December 4, 2011
I think I woke up too early, and am still a little fuzzy, and that I missed my window to go back to bed because my oldest son just woke up and turned on the TV and there went my Quiet Time and the day has officially begun as the sky brightens outside my window.
i shall die with the sunset
and rise again tomorrow
with the rising saffron
in the hope that i would
eventually learn to smile
after a long and sleepless night…
symbiosis defined
“The word symbiosis literally means “together life”. It refers to organisms that live in close approximation; often one cannot live without the other.”
~ from the Marietta College website, a la my google search
I think too much
It it better to be followed, or be a follower?
How does one have time to do both?
Read AND write?
Part of me feels like I need to get all the other voices out of my head and just write.
Sing my own song.
Even if it is a little off key.
Even if no one wants to read it.
The other part feels like by reading the work of others, I am inspired and nudged and prodded to keep going, and say what needs to be said and tell the stories inside me.
That the two go together.
Like symbiosis.
Which is different from osmosis.
Mostly, I think I woke up too early, and am still a little fuzzy, and that I missed my window to go back to bed because my oldest son just woke up and turned on the TV and there went my Quiet Time and the day has officially begun as the sky brightens outside my window.
~ Janean
© Turquoise Tangles
Lilys of the Field: the spot between life and a poem
blending the white
of forlorn shadows
with my pencil lead
against the warming sun
in the midst of a rain shower
dampening my world
and the page I hold
my life bent backwards
mirrored in words
and reflected my mind
allowing you just a glimpse
of the soul roaming
into adventurous lands
of dreams…
If tomorrow
could be my design.It’d start in the sunlight
and end underneath the moon.It’d start with coffee
and end with tea.It’d start with me,
and end with you.
Things I carry in my back pocket.
Tomorrow’s headline
of the greatest adventure,
composed symphonies
and tragedies,
and the sea.
Discoveries and
treasures found
under park benches.
The Chicago Times.
The unsaid truth
and forgotten hope.
Wishes, wonders, and whispers,
enchantment
and question marks.
Flower seeds,
witches spells,
nursery rhymes,
fairy tails
and history.
Band-aids
and kisses.
Memories.
Stolen time
and mathematical
equations.
And poems.
These are the things
I carry in my back pocket.
Turquoise Tangles 