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.

Addicts Hold On

© Ester Rogers

© Ester Rogers

We do hang on while figuring out how to let go. I am often trapped inside a need to please everyone, and when I cannot, I obsess about that one difficult situation, generally that one person who I cannot fix. Why should I have to fix anyone anyway; I usually end up realizing I have to repair my own misgivings, generally my own faults. What happens though is that along the way I forget to come home, and I remain adrift in a sea of turmoil. I suppose that is when the term letting go comes into play. I wish I had a better handle on that method of resolution.

Someone told me once my thinking was that of an addict. Well, I do know clearly I am an addict, but I struggle with how that interacts with my obsession with needing everyone to be my friend. I know I have moments of clarity when I can come to terms with the fact that there are people that may just not like me. What an epiphany right? That I might actually be a person whose behavior or beliefs does not match up with every human being’s demeanor that I cross paths with, right? Boy that’s a mouthful of sanity trying to break free I think.

Tonight I am in that sort of lost mode of not being able to handle a situation with my drama program. Maybe I am going through the stages of grief. I have a student that clearly has challenged my authority that I have given many chances to take a new direction who simply refuses. I can easily account for their demeanor being angry and sullen in a meeting where I spoke only of the need to have positive and proactive members involved in our coming spring production. They are talented but there is no way I can possibly bring their negative energy into the production. That attitude will clearly sap everyone else’s ability to focus on the end product of producing a solid show.

So I am struggling, and trying to let go of my indecision to go forward with my instincts rather than cave into my spineless need to save everyone. After all that is what it is right? I remember when I first began teaching theatre I used to say to the kids every spring that next year I will come back with a rebuilt backbone. I guess I am still searching for that surgeon. In the meantime, the life of an addict in recovery continues with slow and cautious steps trying desperately to not lose my footing.

Which Newspaper Will You Read Tonight

I used to get newsprint on my fingertips,

after a few hours of reading the news,

today, its different,

I haven’t the trust in the words anymore.


I plan to continue to know about life

as it applies to daily needs and wants.

Peace and tranquility

would be a lovely story to read today.


I know there are slants on people’s views

well we are left to decide upon our own

virtues and promise,

would that we might understand love.


“I read the news today oh boy” I cried,

not knowing which edition to believe

whose voice is that,

when all the eyes look to their answer.


“About a lucky man who made the grade”

he won’t be coming home for the holiday,

yet we’ll revel

in the beauty that is he that held our hands.


“And though the news was rather sad”

we would continue, we’d all be glad

when someone cried

while we went on with simple lives today.


When then we began to wander alone,

hope to fly, passion to discover time.

“Well I just had to laugh”

I knew the news would return to me again.


Last night before I laid my tired soul down,

I wondered about a painful reality I’d heard,

“I saw the photograph”

again telling a story we’d all heard before.


“A crowd of people stood and stared”

we didn’t know we were looking at love,

instead we raced

ourselves down an avenue of shallow frill.


I can’t read the newsprint any more, too small,

I’d rather see quick sound bites with a pretty face!


(‘A Day in the Life’ – John Lennon, the Beatles)

When I Drink


When I drink

faded images appear,

silent, moving, attractive

filtered visions.

When I drink

that settled need,

gnawing reality

quiet departs

leaving little love.

When I drink,

you certainly cannot

know me the way,

I know I’m sick.

When I drink,

the fog I seek

envelops my soul,

blurs drawn energy

settles incessant.

When I drink

I will destroy

all that I love,

all that we believe

that new image of me.

When I drink,

I’ll falter often,

while asking solace,

you’ll hate me again.

When I drink … I will die

Wonders of the Day

How do moments become real,

those that remain,

stay on the mind,

trigger our notions to react today.


When we wake in the morning

do we decide,

today we’ll slide

our lives into a deep cavernous fault


I remember being a child at young

and all my days

were spent with clays

modeling and forming imaginary futures


The sun burst through the morning sky

and I decided today

would be another day

to sit and wonder about what happened


Perhaps a little less emotion in my mind

with a callous edge

that non-caring soul

would help me live with myself again.


I wonder about the hours that lie ahead,

and will they remain,

just more of the same

or could this be the start of tomorrow


The wonders of the day are easily strung along

we just need to decide how far, and how long.