Summer Mayhem, Summer Poems

It’s been an unusual summer.

Unexpected expenses come up, and there’s a lot to be done – but only 24 hours in a day; too few to be worrying about things, though the worry likes to creep in anyway. Sound like anyone else? I’ glad I’m not the only one – whew! 😉

I am altering my path again to give myself more opportunities for employment, as well as have the money to continue funding our business. No one said it would be easy but at this point, I’m still ok with that. Should everything pan out, I will be back to earning some dinero more this Fall.

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So IF all goes planned, I will be enrolling in training this fall and blogging about how that goes. I will continue building my vector skills for making apps for Android and Apple, keep writing poetry for my ebook, and blogging about whatever other topics seems interesting at that time. I’m sure a little bit of that time will include Diablo 3 and Minecraft – ya know, as a stress reliever ^_^.

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Although this is not a place for critique of poetry, I want to share some of the poems I’ve been working on this summer as I’ve been dealing with my own summer mayhem. I am sure scores of you have had to deal your own summer mayhem – if so, I wish you well on finding an outlet to express it as well!

Thanks and take care of yourselves! ❤

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Two

Pair of sad, lonely, and confused brothers back home in AZ – for so long I wished I could help them, until I realized that sometimes the best thing one can do to help another is just to let them be.

I have no doubt that someday they will find their way 🙂

Two

by ~Ponix7

There stands the long shadows of two men –
similar stature
similar appearance.
Trace the top of their shadows to see whose feet
they cling to…
Your eyes do not deceive –
they are the prepubescent feet of young boys.

How do they bear the shadow of ‘man’
whom stand so tall against the setting sun?
Two puddles of muddy gray
side by side;
Two boys – brothers
stand solemnly,
side by side.
They, too, a deep, muddy shade of gray,
whom seem to be yearning
for something…

or perhaps –
someone who will come with sticks and grass
and an earthen palette.
Someone who will come
to fill in their muddy gray bodies,
their ever-stretched, dreary shadows;
who shall paint them and paint them
until even their souls are saturated…

Who will rise to fulfill their wish?

You cannot.
I cannot.
Although,
if we could reach them –
to give them their own brushes and palettes,
then they,
two,
may choose to paint themselves into the men they wish to be
and resolve the emptiness and sorrow
of the child inside of each.

PMO
31 May 2010

(This one also located at: http://ponix7.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2qt8ly)