Writing Wings For You

Marie Lukasik Wallace ~ # I LIVE Poetry – I'm passionate about life and writing and all things creative and poetic!


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POETRY COLLABORATION – I Remember…

What a beautiful treasure trunk of memories created here.  Please feel free to add your memories to the comment section.  Our memories are too precious to forget!  Our latest contributions has pictures!  Don’t forget to click the links back to the poets.  They have AMAZING blogs for voracious reading!

I remember strapping on metal roller skates and racing down the driveway.
I remember Big Red and Pop Rocks and chicken bone candy and Now or Laters being the big rage.
I remember Firemen picnics mixing all the flavors into a horrid concoction but loving it anyway because we seldom got to drink soda and we’d get sick.
I remember driving “go-carts” my daddy made in the store parking lots because stores were closed on Sundays.
I remember….

Hands held over the years,
Sometimes the distance stretched. . .
Other times, the ties held strong.
His strength carried her through,
Her conscience flowed through his mind.
I remember when I was a child~
How looking at their hands held tight,
Gave me hope, warmth and courage.
(To become the woman I am today.)

I remember our stickball streets,
shooting marbles, double-dutch feats..
Old truck tires that became swings,
playground races on monkey rings.

Water balloons we threw for fun,
on warm summer days in the sun.
Lemonade stands, penny candy,
Bazooka gum, always handy.

Raking leaves up into a pile,
to dive headlong as we all smiled.
Climbing into colorful trees,
an iron-n patch on my jean’s knees.

Blizzard snows that closed all the schools,
eating icicles, the eaves jewels.
Out all day until toes were numb,
sipping pretend Hot Buttered Rum.

I recall all seasons of life,
loves and losses, darkness and light.
Investments in who I’ve become,
reminders of life’s battles won.

I remember each song like it was a day,
Music to fit the moments
Happy or bittersweet
And they way the earth smelled with each thought
Of those days.
I remember I stood behind the house,
Summer smells filling my nose,
Warm summer air beating down on me,
In the distance the fire sirens calling
Lunch time, lunch time.
Skies so blue going on forever,
The sounds of cicadas covered the air with their droning lullaby
Fighting it with the sirens,
I was alone and six,
I looked back to see you smiling at me
As you stood watching in the kitchen window.
You came out shortly after,
Holding out your hand as if to say come
Let’s go together
Walking through grasses high
I remember that day
For it was the day
The earth sang to us
And I’ve not known a day of such perfection
Since.
I remember and smile.

Walking down the memory lane

Heard a knock at the past life gate

From a bouquet of memories I have to pick one

There were testing times, life was never only fun

Met with challenges, overcame, shone bright as sun

Sleeting to be broken, dig deeper to find disturbing ones

Let those buried there, I will only talk about the happy ones

 

Well, here comes the most memorable moment of my life

A moment of pride, the ultimate bliss of wife

When my eldest son arrived in the world

So accomplished, blessed, complete I felt

Excitement at peak, wishes were being pelt

All my worries, anxiety and the pain melt

 

Oh, It was  25th Dec. holy  Christmas day,

A chubby, cute JESUS was born, healthy and gay

Doctors, nurses, patients, care takers

Along with relatives, friends and sisters

All came one by one to bless the newly born

“Little JESUS has arrived on Christmas !” they said

Celebrations started bang on !

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My husband was thrilled, looked never so happy

trying to hold, touch and feel his precious baby

My mom in law glowing, talking and sharing her observations

Nose like mother, lips like father, while she checked body formations

My parents dancing, distributing sweets, mailing friends out of station

Lying on the bed relaxed, silently I watched them

Jubilant as well as cautious, I held my little gem

Tears rolled down from my eyes, on the cheeks

I was a mother now, a responsible person to speak

Yes ! It is a blessing from God, to give birth to a life

I remember the journey of being a mother from a wife

So good,  full of love, so rewarding and  away from strife.

Writing Wings For you – MeReocochran Witless Dating After Fifty The Poetry Channel – Michael,  Peace, Love and Patchouli (Infinite Zip) – KimSoul n Spirit

Writing Wings For You

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Well my friends, you’ve asked, and here it is.  Our next Poem Collaboration will be:   I REMEMBER

What I love about this open ended topic is that we can write endlessly from any point of our lives.  I can write a stream of consciousness without stopping, any memory that comes to me or focus on a specific age.   No rules!

So here’s how to participate:.   Just as before, you can add your contribution in the comment section of this poem,  & I will place them in the order they come as soon as I possibly can. I will put your name (contributor)  at the end of the piece in the same color as your contribution and the names will be in the same order as well.   In a week, I will post the collaboration as a whole.  (But we can always keep adding on!)  Happy writing! ~ Marie

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18 Comments

POETRY COLLABORATION – I Remember…

wpid-20140612_205954.jpg

Well my friends, you’ve asked, and here it is.  Our next Poem Collaboration will be:   I REMEMBER

What I love about this open ended topic is that we can write endlessly from any point of our lives.  I can write a stream of consciousness without stopping, any memory that comes to me or focus on a specific age.   No rules!

So here’s how to participate:.   Just as before, you can add your contribution in the comment section of this poem,  & I will place them in the order they come as soon as I possibly can. I will put your name (contributor)  at the end of the piece in the same color as your contribution and the names will be in the same order as well.   In a week, I will post the collaboration as a whole.  (But we can always keep adding on!)  Happy writing! ~ Marie


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Friday Flower

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Fun Friday find in the Sawtooths.  Love the dewy frosting.


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Throwback Thursday – I am a Writer

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Sometimes, I need to remember:  I am a Writer.  This summer I got to LIVE and BREATHE writing, and it nourished my soul.  Yes, I remember soaking in the sunniness of it’s words and feeling it fill my body and created “I LIVE Poetry.”  Each day, I lived poetically with music and photography and art and just noticing…and my friends, I must say, I had never been happier.  I had to return to my job…which I love, but it IS a time sucker.   Soon I was in a whirlwind of meetings and have tos, instead of I want tos…and literally writing almost came to a screeching halt.  I pined for my artistic side to be fed…I remember noticing many things I wanted to sit and write about…but alas, my seat in the seat could not happen.  The best part was I understood it was temporary…

Last night, I got to enjoy a fabulous group of writers, and they reminded me of the beauty of words and the healing of words and yes, sometimes the mysteries and elusiveness of words.  I reveled in all that they shared.  Windows to souls…and I knew I wasn’t the teacher anymore, but a fellow participant who just loved what I was doing, ENGAGING in writing.

Writing, it has MAGIC POWERS…it can heal…it can bring joy.

Have a blessed day my friends.   And thanks to my buddy Michael, that sometimes it’s committing to just a few words a day.


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Funny Story – My 77 Year Old Dad got his first “Twitter” Account

This one was so funny, I HAD to use it for Throwback Thursday. We chatted about this just this week. Makes my heart smile. ENJOY!

Writing Wings For You

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My dad is a Doctor Dolittle. He certainly has a way with animals. He interacts with them like people, mostly because he is a man who lives out in the country, and animals are the closest things to talk to. He has regular people conversations with animals; and like Dr. Dolittle, it is not limited to cats or dogs. Currently, he has 2 cats and 3 dogs and a frog that comes and sits.

One day when I visited dad, he surprised me by telling me the conversation he was having with a bird outside. Rarely does my dad get excited about things. Most of our conversations consist of the weather and typical daily chores. But on this day, my dad carried on about his interaction with the bird.

Dad continues, “Marie, the bird would make a sound ‘tweet, tweet’ and then I would echo back, ‘tweet, tweet.’ Then dad…

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