Walls Closing In

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Walls built with stones and mortar of memories
Locking tightly together each painful reality
Stacking and cementing them tightly in place
Till the soul is hidden without even a trace
Dungeon of doom condemning the soul
Cold place of solitude where no one can dwell
A roof on top to keep out the light
Beautiful on the outside but dark in the heart
Protected and guarded from any more pain
Windows boarded up to keep out the rain
Though years have gone by the walls still close in
Creating a chasm the soul cannot swim
A castle on the hill of life with walls strong and tall
No windows no drawbridge no one comes to call
A lifetime of memories too painful to tell
A soul locked in memories
A real living hell

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Gathering Stones Together

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Kenny Rogers sang, “You’ve got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.” For a country song, those are real words of wisdom that apply to all of life. The writer of Ecclesiastes said it this way; “There’s a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together.” Life is full of choices that forever change our future. It is so important to take control of your life and set the life direction you choose to go.

Winter of life
I value my family most
Precious stones

*****

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Today at d’Verse Poets Pub, Lillian reminded us of the importance of time. She shared Pete Seeger’s song, made popular by the Byrds, Turn, Turn, Turn. It is based on the passage from Ecclesiastes that says, “there’s a time for every purpose under heaven.” She asked that we chose one of the pairs of opposites and include them in a poem. I decided to write a haibun. using the discarding and gathering of stones together.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Photos of the Cherokee Stone Wall at Banner Elk, NC: Dwight L. Roth

Life’s Pattern

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Life’s Pattern

Our life’s a pattern of carefully laid stone

Each laid with care to show a place we owned

My life is built of corners hewn four-square

One layer on layer a box to grow to share

Young trees of green in soil dark find root

A life of sculpted stones well hewn bears fruit

 New bricks in pavement of carefully laid stone

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse Frank asked us to write a poem in Iambic Pentameter. This is new for me so here is my attempt.  Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Living Among the Stones

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We Live Among the Stones  

We live among the stones

Some rounded and smooth

Others sharp and jagged

Stones fresh and raw from upheaval

Laid bare by heat and pressure

Scorched and Broken

Stone surrounding the fossils of life

Embedded ancient remains

Relationships yet to be excavated

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Stones in the river of life

Hard yet rounded smooth

Shaped by the flow of life

Stones cut and shaped to perfection

Stacked and fitted with keystone and arch

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Support and strength for all above

Stones of beauty shaped with loving hands

Smoothed and polished

Exquisite beauty stately and cold

Stones of hurt hurled to harm

Smashing killing with devastating force

Leaving only piles of rubble behind

Stones of moraine crushed under ice

Laid bare by the receding foot

Cold snow pack fading fast in the sunlight

Precious stones forged with extreme heat

Pressures that forever change…

Leaving a greater metamorphic glory

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Stones of love left in sweet memory

Of loved ones gone // lying among the stones

Now only names carved in stone

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We are all precious stones

Jewels in our creator’s crown

Reflecting love and grace

********************************************************

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

For d’Verse open link night we can post any poem of our choosing. I chose this one because it describes how we live among so many and diverse peoples of the world. It also has personal connotations that apply to us as individuals as well.

Come join us at de’Verse: https://dversepoets.com/

Here is another post on rocks from a spiritual perspective by fellow blogger David Alleman at Compost and Grace.

https://uplandweb.wordpress.com/2018/02/24/on-being-chips-off-the-old-rock/#respond

Walls

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What does a soldier do with his pain? Memories of the carnage and bloodshed rerun over and over in is mind. What does a person do who was criticized or ignored by parents who seemed not to care?  That voice, that look, that feeling of never measuring up is always there. What about the child who never quite fit in, who was bullied and teased by his so-called friends? The verbal abuse, the punches and kicks stay forever in his mind .  This poem is for all you who are hurting and cannot shake the trauma. This is to say, in your pain I care about the hell you are going through.

Walls

Walls built with stones and mortar of memories

Locking tightly together each painful reality

Stacking and cementing them tightly in place

Till the soul becomes hidden without even a trace

Dungeon of doom condemning the soul

Cold place of solitude where no one can dwell

A roof on top to keep out the light

Beautiful on the outside but dark in the heart

Protected and guarded from any more pain

Windows boarded up to keep out the rain

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Though years have gone by the walls still close in

Creating a chasm that the soul cannot swim

A castle on the hill of life with walls strong and tall

No windows no drawbridge no one comes to call

A lifetime of memories too painful to tell

A soul locked in memories a real living hell

**********************************

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

* If you are suffering from any of the above, seek professional help to work through whatever you might be going through. I have and it has made all the difference!

 

 

 

 

My Little Bag of Stones

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What do you do with your anger when you feel mistreated? Do you explode and let out all of your frustrations hoping to make peace later? Or, do you internalize your feelings and find them coming out in passive aggressive ways? This poem speaks to the second way of dealing with these feelings. It uses the concept of collecting stones of hurt to use at some later time to throw back at the one who caused the pain, or in some cases at anyone who might be in your path.

My Little Bag of Stones                                      

My little bag of stones all shiny and smooth

Serves me very well when I am hurt

Little memories stashed away

Some are small some are large

Traumatic events harsh words stabs of pain

All tucked neatly into my little bag

Waiting for just the right time

Displaced anger dysfunctional relationships

Objects of wrath inflicting pain

Lashing out with subtle intent

Trying to compensate for past mistakes

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Stones saved neatly in the bag

Passive aggression stored for the future

Never finding satisfaction totally depressed

Weighing me down

Always carrying my heavy load

In my little bag of stones

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Live Among the Stones

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This poem began in an early morning dream and continued while I waited for the dental hygienist. People are like stones. Some hard and rough. Others smooth and round. Some are precious and very  valuable. Stones, like people, are reflections of the life they have lived. The bumps and grinds of everyday life shape us into what we are today.

We Live Among the Stones  

We live among the stones

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Some rounded and smooth

Others sharp and jagged

Stones fresh and raw from upheaval

Laid bare by heat and pressure

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Scorched and Broken

Stone surrounding the fossils of life

Embedded ancient remains

Relationships yet to be excavated

Stones in the river of life

Hard yet rounded smooth

Shaped by the flow of life

Stones cut and shaped to perfection

Stacked and fitted with keystone and arch

Keystone

Support and strength for all above

Stones of beauty shaped with loving hands

Smoothed and polished

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Exquisite beauty stately and cold

Stones of hurt hurled to harm

Smashing killing with devastating force

Leaving only piles of rubble behind

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Stones of moraine crushed under ice

Laid bare by the receding foot

Cold snow pack fading fast in the sunlight

Precious stones forged with extreme heat

Pressures that forever change

Leaving a greater metamorphic glory

Stones of love left in sweet memory

Of loved ones gone

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Now only names carved in stone

We are all precious stones

Jewels in our creator’s crown

Reflecting love and grace