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Community > Posts By > BluesPreacher
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Topic:
My Secret Sin
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Love the twist
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Topic:
God's Angels Came
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Amen
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Topic:
Do Not Call
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well done
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Topic:
Colors Of The Canvas
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Loved the originality
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,
wrote in the last stanza of "The Two Rivers",... It is the mystery of the unknown That fascinates us; we are children still, Wayward and wistful; with one hand we cling To the familiar things we call our own, And with the other, resolute of will, Grope in the dark for what the day will bring. I believe it is better to reach out to the unknown than to suckle the familiar. Or, perhaps better put by a modern writer... The Invitation It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing. It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love for your dream for the adventure of being alive. It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon... I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain mine or your own without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy mine or your own if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful be realistic remember the limitations of being human. It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure yours and mine and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.” It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children. It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back. It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away. I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. Written By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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PS, forgot to ask, "where's your's ?" I didn't offer one, becuase the challange wasnt a competition with me, but yourselves |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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For the most part I write about love but if you take some time and go back in time!!  I also do COWBOY POETRY and God!! Archives!!   In your case I would challange you to do something other than any of the above. Although you write very well. The intention of my challenge is for you to challenge yourselves to go someplace different. We all tend to surround ourselves with what comforts us. |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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I awoke this day the deer outside my window Reminding me of the awesome wonders that make me glow My creator put his all into the beauty that surrouds me I shall never take for granted the things gifted by thee (Off the top of my head not a poet) might this be an example? yes it is and you are a poet |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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I can't write about love, I can only write about that which I know.   Of course you can write about love. Love of a child, love of a car, love of a tree, whatever, just not love of a man or woman. |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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Untitled... I met a Blue Preacher today Saddened by other pastors We talked over lunch Breaking bread Me Sipping off an old tin flask Him Uncritiqueingly offduty We Eat chicken alfredo Courtesy of Macaroni Grill The pastor Feeling blue Asks me for a drink Not to be a Saint I stingily harbor the last sips To help preserve his purity And My sanity Like the cross around his neck I say This is my savior I drink wine he says Intrigued I say More then a few shots at work? He grins He looks around mischeviously As if his face was surrounded by darkness Then he raises his left sleeve I see a cross on his forearm He says This was what I beleived in He then raises his other sleeve He says This is what I used to believe in A little red man with a pesky tail and sharp horns Laughing with black bottle in hand Three red X's on white label I say We all have our own vices So you like to drink? I do he says with his chin up I say I don't understand You are a pastor I'm a blue pastor He says Sympathetically I give him a drink The swig loosens his morales Then he speaks to me in rhyme I am a blue pastor I have seen it all I learned to walk Before I could crawl I'm not here to judge For I have done my wrongs But I'm a better man today Much more strong I have been to hell and back again And what a trip that was I have had it all before the fall and tried almost every drug He pauses I pass him the bottle When I was a kid I had no fear Beer was my first joy When everthing felt wrong And God felt gone A bottle is what I enjoyed So I tell the pastor don't live in your past And now check me out I'm preachin I take the time to put it in rhyme to exercise my demon Ok Blue Pastor I see your point He cuts me off and asks Do you have a joint? I laugh and say no Let's talk about this Jesus helped his disciples Netting the fish This bottle a net Kidneys The fish Are you sure You really Want to do This? He puts the flask to his lips And starts to think Hmm, put his down? Or have a drink? I say no pressure Drink away your sorrow But wake up hung over And you will hate tomorrow He throws the bottle at me And says forget it I say, this isn't for everyone I knew YOU would regret it. Loved this, have we met? lol |
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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Time Table 1958: The dining room table at my house back in Maine, set with streaks of morning sun and fat plates with wheat pancakes, their bitterness offset by cloying maple syrup; My brother and I sat on stacked cushions to reach its top. 1978: Cards over the worn faux wood surface: Poker, Solitaire, and spoons on the floor. I don't remember who won each game. His ring once ticked the wood, slapping down, with bad aim, an ace; we laughed and I pushed back my brown hair. 2008: I smooth my fingers across the choppy tabletop as we laugh about a joke dad used to make and about the day my brother broke the dining room window. The memory of you came across my mind, somewhat dented by time. _________________________________________________ I know it sucks; I wrote it rather quickly. I loved it |
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Topic:
Bluespreachers challenge
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very good.
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Topic:
A friendly challenge to all
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Wed 05/21/08 07:37 AM
QUOTE: Beautiful picture you have painted! Overnight I thought about these words. I have come to think(I may be wrong) that many of the writers here only write about lost love or how wonderful love is or something to do with love. I agree LOVE is a great subject, but after reading many poems one one particular subject, the audience must be getting a rather limited interest in the writer. So my idea is to challange all the writers in this forum to write one poem on any subject other than love pertaining to an adult relationship.Also, this challenge is to write on, a subject that you think nobody else will possibly think of. You are all wonderful writers, I am interested in the many facets of you. Please try this. I believe you will produce some amazing pieces. |
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Topic:
Blue, Grey, White and Gold
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Beautiful picture you have painted! Overnight I thought about these words. I have come to think(I may be wrong) that many of the writers here only write about lost love or how wonderful love is or something to do with love. I agree LOVE is a great subject, but after reading many poems one one particular subject, the audience must be getting a rather limited interest in the writer. So my idea is to challange all the writers in this forum to write one poem on any subject other than love pertaining to an adult relationship.Also, this challenge is to write on a subject that you think nobody else will possibly think of. You are all wonderful writers, I am interested in the many facets of you. Please try this. |
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Much time has passed,
in few years, Much love and joy, Much pain and tears. Tears themselves, They never hurt; But, love and joy Were much to short. In years to come, I'll be eager, For love and joy; But, pain does linger... BluesPreacher |
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Topic:
Memories Not to Polute
Edited by
BluesPreacher
on
Tue 05/20/08 10:39 AM
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God Bless and protect our sons and daughters at war. I was a Desert Storm Vet with the first Mr. Bush and I applaud your acts of patriotism, but remind you also,with a quote from, Ernest Hemingway "Never think that war, no matter how necessary, nor how justified, is not a crime."
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Topic:
Blue, Grey, White and Gold
Edited by
BluesPreacher
on
Tue 05/20/08 10:11 AM
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I wrote this one day when I was in the Navy. It was just before sunset in the middle of the mediterranean ocean. I was sitting alone on the fantail of the navy destroyer, that I was stationed on, having a smoke.
The water was flat as ice and there wasn't a hint of wind, as I watched one of Gods most beautiful sunsets ever, a huge whale eased up out of the water and just floated there along side of us and stared directly at me with his large, intelligent and very human like stare that seemed as though he wanted to say something to me. We,(Myself and the whale) just stayed there looking at one another for what seemed like a long time and then he calmly flapped one fin as if to wave goodbye and gave a small spray from his spout and slowly slipped away back into the depts. I was left with one of the most surrealistic feelings of my lifetime, and will never forget it. |
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Topic:
Blue, Grey, White and Gold
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Blue, grey, white haze;
Above a golden sea, Smooth as ice, Weaved like silk; Clean and free. Great mammal of peace; Contently, touches the gold, To speak to me. He speaks of untouched nations, Beneath the gold, deep in the sea. Where schools of fish, learn of creation And sea lions play, in the weeds. He speaks to me, about the otter; The joyous fun, he makes of water. He tells me all about the dolfin, And his great love, for the ocean. Then, with a tear in his eye, The mighty mammal waved goodbye, And from his spout, came a spray, That I hope, Will never fade away... BluesPreacher |
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Topic:
Growing Pains
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Thank you all. This was written for my daughter.
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Topic:
Paper's on the porch
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Paper's on the porch,
As I walk out; into the cold To scrape the ice, from the windshield, Of my poor ol' run down Ford. I'm off to work again... And you're off to, Another day of being bored.. I come home to a smile, That I know, Was made just for me; And the love of two children; Warm, sweet and free. I wake up, in my favorite chair, And turn off the T.V., In the dark, I wipe away my tears, (Because, it was all just a dream.) When I wake up, in the morning, And look into your eyes, This painful, lonely feeling, It makes me want to cry. I sit and light a cigarette, And think that I should try... Days pass, I don't know how many they are; Distance and Time, Are much too far. I want to lay down, Sleep, to never wake again. Dream of a time, When I held your hand. BluesPreacher |
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