Writing Wings For You

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

Category Archives: poetry


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One Circle One Tribe

drum

Ba boom

Ba boom

Ba boom

The tribal beat reverberates through my body

From crown to root

Root to crown and to the heavens

I feel its healing sound

Truth radiating inside

Drummm drummm

Drummm drummm

All souls to center

Inhaling gifts

Exhaling all things

Which no longer serve

Experiencing only this clear present moment

Drummm drummm

Drummm drummm

No longer

is my heartbeat my own

One circle

One tribe

We are home

This is a tribute to Katie Jo and her drum circles for peace and unity.

May her dream of “One Circle, One Tribe” be realized…beginning at World Parliament of Religions.

And here is a link to show you the power of sound….Think of what can be changed with the power of one heart beat.  Namaste

p.s.  Katie Jo made my drum.  The picture doesn’t do it justice to the detail and work she put into it.


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The Watermelon – I Remember

I remember last summer

You were sitting at the table

Like so many summers before

With skilled hand piercing

watermelon skin

And with a fluid motion

Began the ritualistic carving

I had seen you do this

Hundreds of times

But not through these eyes

These eyes savoring precious moments

These eyes watching an ordinary act

As if it were extraordinary

You cut it in circles

Then slicing them in half, forming tasty boats

And the knife followed the

Curve of the boat

To free melon from the rind

Then up, down, up, down,

making cubes

on the curved “u” stand

Lightly salted

And a knife stab of a savory chunk

Plopped it in your mouth

How I remember

I hadn’t eaten mine

For I was mesmerized

In the moment

Watching your face light with delight

At each piquant morsel

A sweet summer treat

I did and didn’t know

that would be the last time.

-This post serves as my “I Remember,” a collaboration with fellow writers, and as savoring a precious memory of my daddy.

Sometimes the beauty of knowing that someone is in their last days, you hold on to the how extraordinary ordinary moments are.”      Sounds like another collaboration of “extraordinary ordinary.”


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Breadcrumbs

You left me breadcrumbs

to figure out your life

put together our sorrows

make sense of your strife

never knew why the door was to stay closed

and locked up so tight

you barely arose

and now you’re on the other side

We are left here wondering

filled with mystery

digging for knowledge of you

knowing no history

couldn’t you have stopped a moment to provide

a trail of crumbs on this side?

Wish there was a way to lift the veil

It seems I knock and knock,

but to no avail.

Poets inspire each other.  Sometimes it’s a poem…sometimes it’s a phrase…and sometimes it’s a word  like breadcrumbs.  Curiosity gets me to write.   Where do “breadcrumbs” lead you?   Thanks to Poetry Channel for the inspiration.


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I Remember… (COLLABORATION)

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Well my friends, you’ve asked, and here it is.  Our next Poem Collaboration will be using the anaphora:   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!       Add your lines in the comments, and I will put them together to make a gorup poem.  No deadline…write what makes your heart sing.   Did you have favorite toys?  Favorite activities as a child or a teen?  Do you have family memories you’d like to share about your parents, children or loved ones?  I can’t wait to hear them!

Mine:   I REMEMBER


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An Unlikely Love

I remember the first day I met you…
I didn’t like your kind.
You were sweet.
I was cautious.
Didn’t want to love you or even like you.
But you had your charm… your way of working into a heart with subtlety.

And here I am…
grateful for your patience your confidence
that I would fall in love with you…
I did.
Fifteen years later after finding you on the playground, I not only managed to love you,
but I learned to love your kind…
cats.
My dearest Recess…
you have given me hope for the world.

And I will continue in my
search for the gold.


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Open Letter to Little One

Letter to you little one,

You, who was conceived in the most blessed love of two people

You, who only knew love

You, whose spirit

will forevermore be cuddled

between mom and dad

You who left your kiss marks on mom’s belly 

to remind her that

You are her spirit connection to God

so she may always know love.

You, guardian angel, are tiny

But oh so mighty

My friend suffered a great loss of a baby she waited so long to meet.

Her heart is beginning the journey to heal, and she began to write some. I pieced this poem together

from our written conversations.  Never has a little one been loved so much.

May these words heal another mom’s longing heart.


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I Live Poetry – Sunflower Metaphors

Sunflowers bloom like crazy!   Little did I know that when I planted sunflowers that I would get GIANT flowers whose enormity takes up my entire garden.  I was hoping for a few sunflowers…but I got them in dozens.  They grew over the top of my solarium.  They shadowed all my vegetables and even killed some plants begging for the sunlight they so graciously took.

But I’m not mad at them…they are GLORIOUS!  Their bulbous faces to the sun.  Their majestic power and strength.  Their ability to bring joy on the most cloudy day.  I love sunflowers for they represent my favorite word in the world: JOY.  Whose face can’t be brightened by the presence of a sunflower?

Now on to the metaphors.  My sunflowers have been through some really tough times.  There have been three hefty storms pushing at them and trying to knock them down.  Currently, some of their faces are to the ground because the last storm hit them so hard, and I need someone to assist in getting them back up.  Even in this adversity, they continue to “shine on.”

I’ve been taking pictures of their various states throughout the summer.  As I pondered on these, I realized they represent metaphors of life.

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The storms knocked this one down and the roots are hanging on by a thread, but this one pursued, draping across the porch and shooting up! (Not an easy feat, but we can all learn something from this)

The middle one is frazzled and lost all his hair, but is still surrounded by his friends holding him up.

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The”different” one in the bunch…not like the others, but”blooming” where its planted.
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Face to the ground…knocked down…but still growing…these lovelies will soon get assistance.

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Shine on.
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Be beautiful.
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Be MASSIVE!!!

Namaste my friends…and be as bold as a sunflower…under any conditions…no matter what, just bloom.

Marie


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Can You Take me Back Daddy?

This is how I know there’s gold in every soul.  I think back on m relationship with my dad.  What I remembered as a child…both the open man and the closed man…and then I remember the man I knew as an adult.  Most of the time closed…but there were glimpses of gold in the soul.

I wrote this recently as a pondering.  What I like is that it pointed out to me where the walls were starting to form…the prison my dad built around him.  How I was so blessed the last couple of years that the walls started to get holes in them…and then I saw shiny gold peeking out.

If I could go back to any

Moment in time

What would it be?

I think this summer

When it was

Just you and me

 

We talked so freely

Just you and me

And I imagined how

It must have been

When I was a baby

And you cradled me

And you cooed with me

And life was simpler

Before you knew

You world was crumbling

And that people weren’t happy

Before your tenderness

Was crushed by the weight

Of real life

Before you knew that the love

Of your life wasn’t as happy as you.

Could you take me there daddy?

 

I want to know what

It was like before

The monstrous voice of the drink

Allowed you to say things

That were not really you

When the hurt unleashed

And lashed out on anyone

In its path

 

Somehow I always knew

That it wasn’t you

On those cold dark days

How?

Because there were

Those quiet moments

When you taught us

Poker and dominoes

And we sat around

Like a family

And laughed and played

As if there were no cares

In the world

 

Can you take me back there daddy?

May you find gold in the soul of all those you love.  Where would you like the time machine to take you?


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Throwback Thursday – An Old Memory of Home

mud art

When my kids were growing up, there were so many magical times.  Mostly what I loved, is that there was an air of acceptance for all of us.  We were a blended family.  By statistics, we probably shouldn’t have done as well as we had…but honestly, there was so much love in our home.  Love got us through the sticky times.. By many standards, we weren’t perfect…but for each other, we were.

Enjoy my poem of our old childhood home…Three girls and neighbors who loved us.

10893 Montana

Home of oozy goozy mud art

proudly displayed on each child’s belly

and perfect bouffant.

 

Home of last minute backyard campouts

of roasted hotdogs and marshmallows

because our neighbor Ray had made

an “emergency” run to the store.

 

Home of Friday night pizza

dance videos and mini fractured fairytale skits

for a dozen giggly girls.

 

Home of make-shift forts

of bunkbeds and sheets

And “when do you think you’ll be taking that down?

I need to water my lawn.”

 

Home of visqueen and duct tape slip and slides

and neighbors who helped realtors take the signs down

to ensure our stay.

 

Talks over fences

Neighbors mowing our lawns because we were crazy busy

Junior’s eyes dancing with delight as Sophie, our dog,

Accepted his table treasures.

 

Flooding waters making wading pools

Splashing and running carefree through them.

 

No kitchen table…but couch trampolines.

 

Home of 2 families weaving themselves

into one fabric

and clothing themselves

in their warmth and gaiety.

 

10893 Montana

Where mommy is melted on the front porch.


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Where are You Daddy?

lily

I selfishly let you go…

They tell me you are at comfort and peace

now that you’ve let go of your earthly restraints.

I believed them.

For awhile.

You see, you and I have, on many occasions

connected by heart.

Why would the spiritual and physical world

be any different?

At first, I heard you everywhere,

especially in my music.

As the words slipped the singers

mouth, I felt they were the vehicle

for you to send me messages.

And now, as the rituals are over

and daily life begins back,

I feel less an less connection.

Are you truly comforted my daddy?

Are you truly at peace?

Whisper to me my daddy…

My heart desperately needs to know.