Ghost

by | Mar 22, 2021 | Philosophy

The child in me wants to play
That is. . . enter in the game
But the locker room became my home
. . . A ghost without a name

Madness on the playing field
Far as the eye can see
An observer, reinforcing it?
. . . Spirit sidelines the likes of me?

Yet, through imbedded meanings
Empowerment I’ve gained
My poetry creates an echo
Spirit uses my right brain

Behind the scenes a hunger
To affect the world of thought
Not seeing the mechanics
It was Richard, David brought (*1)

From the submarine of Reality
Cruise the ocean full
Learning how to simply BE
Now my garden waste can cull

To reach beyond the given state
Non-resistant to the fore
A conduit becomes an echo
Life reveals so much more.

Footnotes:

(*1) My son-in-law David Taylor was in communication with someone on line
that had run across Richard Bartlett. David shared Richard’s work with
us. I went ahead and bought a couple sets of CDs that helped flesh out his
ideas.

8/23/15 (#2)
11:16 AM

Linda Brady

Linda Brady

Grandma Linda is a squigily peg in a square hole. Her poetry is aimed at moving the world to love, unity and perfect margaritas. And after years of perfecting the art, she has the skill to paint a better world and make it so.

When she is not serving customers, gazing at rocks, or visiting her grandchildren Linda is writing poetry. And even during all the above activities she has been known to write still.

– Zackary (self proclaimed “Favorite Grandson”)