Listening to the 60’s

The music will remain

I can always go back,

play around with time,

I can take a melody

and let it bring me home,

sitting in my bedroom,

the day before.

That’s where I would like to go,

just a minute before,

before the phone rang,

it would be so easy,

once again,

to be there,




hoping the way a child hopes,

without tears and confusion.


The sun was out,

the energy was contagious,


watching my teammates shine.

Yet every quiet moment,

you know

those times,

those when you are alone and nobody knows


I kept wondering,

I know I heard the phone ring

last night.

That’s when life began to change,

a different look, feel, response to

what is real,

that’s when the music,

listening to the 60’s,

became my new friend.

Times Like These

measure me more

tell me soon though,

I’ve been tiring of late,

the testing,

leaves me wondering,

about that side of things

curious if there might be purpose,

That’s it,

always it,

wrenching reality

suggests it is on me,

yes it is,

no one else should even have to

be the purveyor,

the savior,

the believer that allows me,

to draw a second card.

When Moments Cry

Heart felt emotions

strong, lumbering, deafening.

Body frozen,

time on a pendulum

swings away with little accord

or any matter of poise. That comes

in the morning when

the measuring stick

awakens the soul to a new reality.

Even if one can cry

to release the tension of hurt,

to unsheathe the weaponry,

turmoil in the moment. Even still

is the icy region of shattered dreams.


I wonder sometimes whether it is a

state of mind. I think perhaps

it is my own, nothing more.

Yet so powerful is the energy

drawing me away, telling me that it is

ok. That somehow, lies a reason,

some new adventure moves me beyond

today’s cry.

Tomorrow’s cry will be stronger

I can fight with it all

anytime I am asked,


What is it you say?

There is a thoughtful notion

captures my heart in a

free-wheeling mesmerizing

fog of indecision,

lost on the rocks,

waiting for the waves,

to come slap me around,

never hurts enough,

to step back onto the grass.


I might have to forget

about anything that really

mattered in my life, if

if only,

if when and only,

if there ever might be a time,

when my life becomes little

more than playing the piano

on my keyboard.

That’s easy enough, if we could just stay here,

let the world continue,

let time be its own measure,

I politely ask the seconds

to ignore my needs,

I don’t want to be

measured today,

by my lack of tears.

Life Today – A Sonnet

When long in mind I rather call your name

please tell me then you knew me well ahead.

Today I might recognize well the game

that fortune of hindsight you kept instead.

If when I speak the world is newer heard,

than as a child when words remained in sand

is it well today we scrutinize word?

Speak love with our hearts that we cannot stand.

When as a child I spoke alone, my fears.

Social imagery’s designed neighborhood

Is life’s circuitry; media drives tears …

Acceptance slows again that which I could.

We this planet of known impacts and eyes

Need well to live the wisdom in our I’s.

Me and My Enigmas

That person the other day,

will he ever return

or perhaps

he might think another way.

then the rodeo began

with dust kicking fury

each idiom, every adage,

all fought for their place

in an arena of semantics.


While me and my enigmas,

well we soldier on,

we continue to define what’s real,

when we have the time,

to deal with everything that is sur-tainly

puzzling, sometimes foreboding.


I am this person today,

and you are simply the same,

yet different in every way,

so simple are the words,

when truth may have its way.


Goodnight to this sweet world today,

another time, perhaps a newer cliche,

and we all soldier on,

we all do want to go on …

really, we do.

Souls in Grace – Sparkling Stars # 19 – Haiku

© Donna J Thomas

© Donna J Thomas

In here I am speaking of a world I do not personally know, yet only can imagine. In time, though we, with knowledge of what is real may slowly strive to then appreciate change, and center our world with ‘love’


We did know her pain

witnesses of vacancy

in the Man that spoke


watch and learn and cry

for no other reason why

except to accept


time is a rule now

learned with years of sacrifice

these blues so sweet sing


when last we spoke you

suggested lies forgiven

yet still your eyes play


Society breathe

spark imagination wake

our proclivity


listen to passions

jazzy instrumental speak

loud cry on this love!

carpe diem

Out of My Head

Edvard Munch

Edvard Munch

We are that little demon

who infiltrates your head

we second guess

will say unless

while the world ticks along.

Instead of knowing why

Instinct suggests it would

involve your being wise

initiate some newer worry

in time our circle wound


Leave their lives alone,

and wonder about your own,

there’s plenty of time to find

a vacancy at home. Unwind

the raveling storm of discontent

relish beauty’s grace your true intent.

We cannot hope to find a way

to shake the storms of our today

if when we recognize our will

we choose again to simply chill


I walked outside tonight to scream

while further along remains my dream.