Tag Archives: poetry

To eat or not to eat…that is the question. 

I wrote this a couple years back. It still applies. 
To eat or not to eat? That is the question. Whether tis better to deny my tummy its late-night wants, or to take food against these hunger pangs and by opposing end them? To eat…to snack…for in that feast of soup or sandwich what hunger pains may come? Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To eat…to snack…to eat perchance to get fatter? Ay, there’s the rub. For in that late-night feast what things we eat must give us pause. There’s the respect that makes calamity of late-night snack! For who would bear the whips and scorns of cover models, the spouse’s mocking, the friend’s tummy-rubbing, the skinny bitch’s scorn, the fat person’s sympathy, Hollywood’s body-shaming when he himself might his own relief take with a bag of cookies? Who would hunger bear, to toss and turn with an empty stomach, but that the dread of snacking, of gaining weight, from whose bourn we fat people must then do exercise, including jogging, and makes us decide if it is then worth the trouble of those extra few calories? Thus self-image doth make cowards of us all, and thus the warm glow of the refrigerator light is sicklied o’er to the pale reflection of man-boobs in the mirror, and sandwiches of great layers and tastiness with this regard their making is undone and lose their wondrous flavour. 
Dammit.


Full Dark, No Stars

Watching sunset

Dreading the chill

Cold

Dark

No stars

Waiting for something

    anything

        someone

            anyone

Why?

I carry my own light

Yours isn’t necessary

    nice, but not needed

        wanted, but only received

            never taken

Get up

Time to move

The light is gone

Full dark, no stars

So what?

Make my own light

Pierce the darkness myself

And live

Note – it’s been a while since I’ve written anything of any real substance and I regret that. Bear with me as I dig to the roots of my soul and take up the pen and keyboard again.


Such Great Heights

Higher and higher I climb
The ground falls away, leaving me to face the sun
Clouds and rain lash my face
The wind howls at me in rage

Higher and higher I climb
Base thoughts far below try to break my mind
Fear and doubt and worry will come
I turn away from them, seeking the sun

Higher and higher I climb
The wind grows much stronger, seeking my blood
I hold fast to faith in myself and my love
So near to my goal, so far have I come

Higher and higher I climb
Never looking down, always facing the sun
For if I should fall from such great heights
Will I be able to still seek the light?


Down at the Pub

When the beer gets warm and the smokes run out
And I’ve nothing left to talk about
Will you stay and sit with me awhile?
No talking, just here with music and smiles

Listen to people singing their songs
Rock gods for a moment, never for long
Drinking and laughing and smoking their cigs
Talking to old friends and new where they live

Here at the pub it’s all about fun
No fighting or cursing or rat race to run
We’ll throw darts or shoot pool or sing a few songs
At least for a while we can all get along


Brand New Day

Tried by fire, tested by stone
A sword I’ve become – sharp and finely honed
Struggle with the past; I’ve wandered far from home
And I feel so damned tired deep in my bones

Looking ahead to a brand new day
The sun there shines though it seems far away
I’ll keep my faith, for a man I must stay
I’ll toil and work while I wait for that day

A day will soon come without any bars
No guns, no guards, no cold stony walls
Just green grass, warm air, cold waters so blue
Good food and family whose love remains true

This is for my primo Mike, who is more than a number. He’s a man. This is also for anyone who has a loved one on the wrong side of the bars. May we all be reunited soon.


American Hero

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If you fall, I will catch you
If you call, I will answer
If you bleed, I will staunch it

I will save your life, though I lose mine in the saving

For Carlos Arredondo, who’s lost so much and still has enough to give, and all the first responders and their support teams around the world


The Inspiration Project

Attention! Attention!

I’m announcing this project again, and I’m calling it The Inspiration Project. This project cannot succeed without YOUR help, devoted readers! Considering the numbers I get on a consistent basis, I know quite a few of you out there like what I do. What I want now is for you to help me do what I do.

What I’m looking for is this: your inspiration. What inspires you? What are you passionate about? What touches your heart, your soul, your mind? Share an image of that with me and explain how it touches you and I’ll write something about it in a respectful way. If I get enough participation in this project I may do something bigger with it so everyone can enjoy it. But I need your help!

Send an email to shilravi(at)yahoo(dot)com with the subject line “Inspiration” and let’s do this! I’d like to thank the three of you who’ve already participated, but I’d like to think more of you are out there waiting in the wings for the perfect time. That time is now!


What Reputation? – The Inspiration Project

One of my oldest friends writes to me about her inspiration for just being who she is:

“I really admire women in books and movies and reality that are not afraid to be who they are. One great example is the character, Lisbeth Salander, in “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”. People were kinda wary about her because of the way she looked, but it never phased her. Another great example is Joan Jett. Not only do I love her music, but she’s really confident in who she is. My favorite lyric in “Bad Reputation” is “and I don’t really care if you think I’m strange, I ain’t gonna change. And I’m never gonna care about my bad reputation”. I try really hard to just be who I am and not worry about what people think of me.”

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And now, What Reputation?

Feel free to judge me
Even though you don’t know me
You can also love me
Once you get to know me

What you think doesn’t bother me
What you hear doesn’t frighten me
What I do doesn’t affect you
I’ll be me and you can be you

The beauty of life is that we’re all unique
From the soles of our shoes to the fuzz on our cheeks
Why do we judge and make snide remarks
When we all have done something to be pointed out?

For my friend Desi Olson, who is comfortable in her own skin. Why can’t we all be?


Boston Marathon

Fire and stone
Blood and bone
People die far from home

What did you hope to accomplish?

The giant awakes
She cries out in rage
Soon her sons will come in vengeance

Violence begets violence


Sing, Dolly, Sing – The Inspiration Project

So my first taker is my cousin Shelby. Shelby is a HUGE fan of Dolly Parton, and this is what she writes:

It should probably be no surprise as to who my inspiration is.
I can’t find the original image I made, but the first picture in the black and white row.
Now, I don’t know if it will inspire you, and if it does. I don’t know what you will write.
Either way I feel like someone has to know.

Contrary to popular belief, Dolly Parton is not just a pair of tits. I’m sure you know that, I know that but sadly, a lot of people do not.
Our poor president only ranks in 400,000 a year (according to my Government class) while Mrs. Dolly brings in anywhere from 425-600 mil.

See she’s a genius, and I’d really like to know what her IQ is. She only lets us know what she wants us to know about her. She can pick fun at herself, and despite what is dished at her she is still an all around chipper person. Often she’ll say, “I may look like a woman, but I think like a man.” Which works for her. Well, obviously.

Like myself she’s an Artist. A different one of course, hers is vocal and mine is crafts and paints. She’s bold and daring. Some of the music she writes, some of the things she says. (Traveling Thru: A song written by Dolly for the movie Transamerica, which she got protested and hated for.)

I suppose back to my point.. The image the one that is probably my absolute favorite of her. She looks, serious..or saddened. A side of her the public does not see, or rarely gets to see. It’s more than meets the eye, and that image could mean a lot of things.

It makes me feel… well like what I said earlier. More than meets the eye. What I interpret of the photo is probably not what it is at all. She looks exhausted, maybe disappointed… It makes me think of Backwoods Barbie (though the song is younger than the picture). Or, “I hope people realize there is a brain beneath the wig, and a heart beneath the boobs.”

Well, maybe this isn’t what you wanted at all. But, I gave it a shot anyways. If this does not meet the criteria than…you know a little more ._.

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And now: Sing, Dolly, Sing

Boobs and butt
Blonde not dumb
Voice and song
Lost in thought

Watch her weep
Watch her sing
Watch her laugh
Watch her win

So much more than you can see
Dolly sing your songs for me
Beauty inside and brains much stronger
Sing out loud with all your power

– for my cousin, Shelby Castro. Thanks for participating!


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