Thursday, September 26, 2013

TWELVE - A Place to Begin - A

My life has been a journey.  Everyday I look in the mirror and I know I am the most beautiful girl in the world.  I know in that moment, in my time in my space I am, and that is mine to keep.   I have climbed mountains and I have fallen into the darkest of nights, and yet I have never been alone.   Our history and its consequences are not only what we lived but also what we remember.  When you look back, do so and smile, for every moment has a light in the darkness.   I do not go back and revisit what was, because that little girl came on the journey with me.  I didn't leave her behind in some moment in time, I found her, she found me and we have become One.  I am because we are.  We have laughed, we have cried and we have grown, together.
The mountain I saw as a child is finally just as it should be, a small hilltop.  And suddenly I realize I am home.   My long walk on the world stage has come full circle and I have returned to my beginning.  If tomorrow came again, today would be my best day.  My entire life everything I believe myself to be came from yesterday, and I would not change a thing.  I have seen so much in so little time.  I have loved and been loved and will always be the one who believes that no matter what; no regrets, just bittersweet memories.  One small road on a very long adventure does not make a life.  I am strong and I am not afraid.  I will always believe that daring to be great is better than believing that you are small.  We are all giants on the inside.

Friday, September 20, 2013

ELEVEN - Thoughts at almost midnight by doria d.

I love the end of summer.  I crave the colors of Autumn.  The wild and inconsistent nature of Autumn, so much like a child, trying to find her way.   The vibrant colors coming to life, only to die too soon, like a desert flower.   And so I sit at the crossroads of life once more.  For every change of season is a crossroads.  Seasons bring death and seasons bring life, and it is the only moment in life where both are equally exquisite.   Summer dies and Autumn is born.   Beauty is one and beauty is the other.  As the years pass, the intersection of life and death has become more interesting.   I like the complexities of life.  I love the subtle inconveniences. I leap into the wind and I have faith, I believe that we always find our way home.  Home truly, is where the heart is.   The road is always traveled.  The vehicle we take changes, but the horizon always awaits.  This wondrous crossroads of madness we call life. Once again my Autumn shall come and like an impatient child, I shall await winter.

Monday, September 16, 2013

TEN - Poetry and me

What poetry means to me
doria d.

     Poetry is like the gentle pounding of rain, a tribal music of sacred drums slowly beating into a wondrous melody, that lulls you into the darkness of sleep, the tranquility of silence, chasing away the spirits.  It is my solitude in the happiest moments and in the saddest times.  Poetry is living in a world without rules or boundaries, yet somehow not living in chaos.  It describes the most profound love and defines the most intense hatred.  It is the unspoken language of man.  It is the most private and most public outcry of the pains, anguishes and loves of mankind.  It is where we begin and where we end.  Poetry is the life we live and the dreams that we wish we had lived.

     Poetry means everything and nothing depending on whom you ask.  People fear it, love it and don't understand it, but everyone needs it.  It is the drug of literature, and it never dies.  Poetry represents the best and the worst of humanity, as seen through the eyes of man.  The life of a poet is every life, because to pass judgment on mankind is to step into the shoes of every man.  It is to see beyond yourself and to live in the hearts and minds of others.   It is to live a thousand different lives, and feel a thousand different hearts.  The beauty of poetry is its simplicity, the ability to give such extraordinary meaning to such common, ordinary words.
     Poetry is the written expression of knowledge; it is what we have learned and more importantly what we have deep within to teach.  My poetry is an expression of everything I have seen, everything that I've known, thought, lived and dreamed. I see my words on the faces of those whose lives touched mine.  I feel what I see and I see what I feel.  I see with my eyes, my heart and my mind.  Poetry is my great escape from the world around me.  It is jumping into the wind and sailing out into the open sea, beyond rules and boundaries.  It is forgiving, forgetting and moving on, it is healing, understanding and accepting.

     I don't write to please anyone, I write very simply to make sense of my own dark clouds and sunny days.  I hope that somewhere in the jumble of my words that someone finds a word that fits their fancy.  A phrase that gives them hope or a poem that represents what I have felt. I hope that you are reminded of something, good or bad, and that these words that I've put together somehow have meaning for someone other than myself.  I hope that whoever reads these words will find their own voice within mine.  That they will feel.  That some buried memory will slip back into reality for a moment, and that in that joy, or anger or sadness they find a release, an understanding, a door that opens and lets them believe again, move forward, and get on with life.  Poetry should amaze, excite, and empower.  It should throw your senses into a fury.  It should make you cry.  It should make you laugh.  It should inspire you to think.  It is the relentless pursuit of saying so much in so few words.  It is to play music without an instrument.  It is pure raw emotion.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Nine -Eleven

9/11 Say a prayer before you sleep, say a prayer when you wake, and to remember, or maybe not to forget, hold the one that you love just a little longer and say those three little words - I LOVE YOU - just because - have a moment of silence and remember all those who are no more and remember every soldier that has gone away, and for no other reason, just because your are a human being, be kind to someone. love to all doria d.#dsquare7

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Eight - Remember

In a time when we are alone, there is a calm that seeps in and preserves the soul.  Sometimes, faith is all you have.

                                          A PERFECT BREEZE, REMEMBERING

Books by doria dphrepaulezz

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