WHERE GOES MY HEART--THERE GO I

WHERE GOES MY HEART
There go I

 Sunday evening as I sat admiring a painting on the blog of fantastic artist Manon Doyle, a title for her piece came to me. I commented (Why-oh-why do I DO these things?) that if she would use my title, I'd write a song to go with it. NEVER in my life have I even distantly harbored a notion of doing something like this. 

Anyway, I sat right down and the words (lyrics, if you will--grin!) just poured forth, "ready-or-not---here-I-come"-type of thing.

Manon seemed to like what I wrote, and we'll see what happens with the music. I invite any of you bloggers to give me some ideas--pointers, on writing a tune. I'm just a fiddle player. I can write notes, do not understand "charts"...

You might wish first to zip over to Manon's blog and see the wonderful work she does there. This URL is specifically for the painting "Where Goes My Heart Go I"

SONG LYRICS

Where goes my heart go I
There goes my heart, so why
Do I not follow close
Even though most
Of me--body, soul--yearns to fly

To meet my beloved
To see him, kiss him
Yes, I wish to touch
Him. I miss, I need him
Way way too much

Fly me away to Asia
Europe or Malaysia
Afrika, Amerika
Wrap me in a package
Marked "Sent to the Orient"

To meet my beloved
To see him, kiss him
Yes, I wish to touch
Him. I miss, I need him
Way way too much

Each time we've met, I cry
Where goes my heart go I
My heart is already there
No! Here I will not stay
For I'm ON MY WAY

To meet my beloved
To see him, kiss him
Yes, I wish to touch
Him. I miss, I need him
Way way too much

--steveroni

STILL ANOTHER PO-EM

 Eureka! "Poems by Peter"

Peter's posts (what I have read so far) 

are brief thoughts, exquisitely sent out 

to the world in words understandable. 

AND I do not need all afternoon to read one--

then try to figure out 

"What does he mean by that?"

IF you enjoy

fine-writ poetry

visit him. OK? 

 THE SPIRIT IS MOVING

AND IS BLEST BY LOVE

Poetry is blessing in motion
Across oceans of airiness.
Sea wind pushes all aside--
Water, clouds of cotton, sky.
Communication reigns!

Poems--words which maybe rhyme or not.
Shove away me from me, myself,
Those petty daily thoughts which blot
Worthy long-saved ones on the shelf
Of memory.

Places? Events? Surely so. Although
Every poetic language can bestow
What every selfish one--and all lovers...
Every reader, listener must know:
"Nothing is, ever was--but LOVE"...

Thence TRUTH uncovers.

--steveroni 
Sober today!
Love you, Peeps!

A POETIC ATTEMPT...

A POETIC ATTEMPT.  

If JINGLE installs me in her WEEKLY 

poet blog (21st or 22nd week? I do not know!) 

it could get to be a habit for me--because I DO 

enjoy writing out innermost thoughts 

in a lightly shrouded manner. 

Is that  F E A R  again?
Or possibly PRUDENCE!--grin!

Nevermore. Evermore......

Is it become so clear, that
Single bar to loving is fear
I must believe God above
Will reveal to me the Ever, Never
Of love. True. Forever.

Oh how I am missing you
Who might with a single word
Heal my soul...is it so true
That the voice I had heard
Was real, or was it not?

Oh yes, how I miss. Miss the bliss
Of daily greetings--meetings--in parks.
What I really miss most, is this:
Mixtured songs of canaries and larks
Blended, teleported so beautifully!

Angels, you who flew so low
As to finally reach my plateau--
Did you choose to come to this
Place--before I minded to go
Jump from limb of tall tree--

Manilla strap't tight round me
Where head joins this body?
Oh yes, how I miss--miss the kiss
Of rejuvenation. Elation. I wish
Only that time might have stopped!

For what are such things
As minutes, hours and days?
Time is but a belief, which stays
On and on until the ring
Of a clock at morning's light

Wakens us and the day
Full of promise-sounds which say
"Bring together once more
Those two souls, whose love before
Knew no bounds." Day and night

Were as one and same. Each
became space for love.
Love, loveliness! Loneliness
Never...
Or forever

--steveroni

"GOOD-BY" MEANS "SEE YA LATER"

A LOVE POEM

I CANNOT SAY IT
Loves....accords...
Nothing will fit
There just are no words
For "Good-by"

Write here I must again
For I never know when
It will be all taken away
--As it will some blackened day
The moment of "Good-by"

God, oh why did You not see?
Why did You do this to me?
Why did You let me stay
When told so often "Go away"
--But not "Good-by"?

It was--you know--"My will be done"
As it would be still today
Because--you know--I am the one
Who refused to simply say
"Good-by"

Inventor of new math:  "one equals six"
And even later, "five equals ten.
Honored to've been one of your picks
First choice--out of all the men
I will never say it ("Good-By") again

 Even years from now I
 May look back and cry
 And then, ensconced above
 I will yet watch over you...
 With love.

So long.......

BRIAN and/or FLYING LIKE A BIRD

AN EXPERIENCE

Fellow Peeps!  As usual I am one of the last to spot a diamond or that ounce of gold...or a super, SUPER blogger-poet-acute observer of things eternal. Certainly his blog posts have received acclaim elsewhere, but I have just obliviously, somehow missed the whole show.

His name is Brian Miller. And the poem "Finding Serenity" posted Tuesday, is one I have even read aloud to selected sponsees--and no, it was not I who selected them.

A simple description of a time and a place and BEING there--yet so profound thought, artistically woven words, and a message for many, many Peeps.  As of now, yesterday's post has comments numbering in the eighties.  

Whether you trust me or not...trust your keyboard to take you  HERE and you will find something which will carry you through the hopefully infrequent muck-and-mire of daily living.

(sigh!) It is probable that everyone who reads this is a follower of Brian.  No matter.  When he let his feet dangle off the rock "here on the edge of creation", my spirit was there with him. 

I could see once again those kites flying off the mountain south of Denver (even though Brian's piece was not set in Colorado).  And when I realized those "kites" had PEEPS in them, guiding them, gliding them, with the air currents--well, ever since that moment I have from time to time dreamt I was one of those fliers, a hang-glider-guy.  What a thrill.  Occasionally I awaken frightened because my glider  "is malfunctioning". But by morning I have always landed somehow...somewhere. 

Such is life!

 Do not attempt this while drinking alcohol

Although maybe it would help?

No, the guy on the right is not me.

You think I'm CRAZY?--grin!

Have not had a drink today...

ARTISTS AND ANGELIC BREEZES

This poem is dedicated to the many artists, painters, poets, writers of prose, recovering addicts/alcoholics and story-tellers who day after day inspire me to try...try to become a better person. 

From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

IN THE WIND IS ANGELS' SONG

The blowing breeze

Carries messages of love
Around the world
By creatures angelic
While I simply be.

And I observe
Churning waters of the sea,
Winded...and seeming
Directionless.
Also part of Thee?

I look at nature, painting Herself above
And below, quite colorfully
Beautifully, Vibrantly
I am part of it all--
"One plus one are always three".

I see many have been sent;
God's Creation of love continues.
God's gifts--so freely lent.
Artisans and artists, poets and Peeps
And on these blogs, they write to meeee?

Yesssssss!!!--grin!

Countless angels are singing
During wind's caressing of those
Sweet chimes of mine, to ring
As music. I HEAR!
And Oh! Now I SEE!

So blow wind, go wind, slow wind,
Push your own way this and that.
Since I have surely sinned
And since I have paid the fee
Come you angels!  Sing me FREE!

--Steve E. 3/14/2010

LOVE today!
PEACE today!
SOBRIETY today!
Willingness to CHANGE...today.

CALLI-GIRL--A THANK YOU

One fortunate day for me many months ago, a poet-artist-blogger named CALLI (click HERE) was posting for us every few days, the progress of a painting of "The Lady in RED".  Well, (what else is new?) I fell in love with RED, and told Calli so. 

Also I love the poetry with which she frequently teases, entices, cajoles and otherwise excites her readers.  CALLI is a God-gifted artist (Art Site HERE), at times sensual, erotic, spiritual...and always full of beauty in her many works, and in her person.

She gifted me with "Lady in Red, henceforth named RED, and also a painted card (inset), and to the left of my computer is a Calli farm landscape in water-color.  (Art Blog HERE).

On my computer screen (on bottom right) is a partial photo of Calli, my blogger-friend and much more. Below is a poetic attempt to publicly thank Calli.  These words just seemed to flow a couple days ago, upon my receiving these wonderful presents.  Calli thank you.  I love you.

 CALLI-GIRL

A piece of you is hanging directly
Above my computer on the wall
Just as you once said
Her name shall be RED. 

A piece of you is here in our house
A Lady in Red
She is very pretty, questioning, 
Dark, somewhat innocent.

A piece of your work, your creativity
Now lends her beauty to my blank wall
RED enhances this corner of my universe
Where I write, dream, meditate...and pray.

Yet she displays a disturbance
Lingering deep within her soul.
I will determine in time what this is:
Her mood, her secret love, her very life?

First perception at seeing Red Lady
Is that her expectations have
Not achieved the reality of a

Lasting and really profound LOVE

"Is this love, my lovely man,
Which marks my completion--
Is it mutual, reciprocative?"
For she is asking, "Do you truly love me?"

Red searches for depth
In her "other"--for his concept of
Her thought, her life, her Being:
And of these... his acknowledged understanding


Hours each day I spend
Searching the eyes of my LADY
Reading her questions.  My friend
Calli--your creation, your work, your GIFT...

A piece of you is in our house
Before me is a reminder that
Though the world itself be a mess
One blessing undestroyed is tenderness.

Calli, a piece of you has embedded itself
In our home. Here she will preserve.
I am so certain to never comprehend,
Oh Calli--what EVER did I to deserve?

My gratitude, my thanks is simply
Overflowing, enough to pour out to others
Service, Hope, Prayer, and LOVE
And know, that in complete charge of all
...is God above.

Peeps--SOBRIETY!

Peeps--LOVE!

Peeps--PEACE

FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION

POETRY READER AT HIGH TEA

STEVE AND POETRY

OR

WATER AND OIL?

Peeps. I am trying out a new medium of expression.  It's ahh...well...poetry.

  There, I said it!  This first time, it is not about alcoholism or recovery.  However, without my program of Alcoholics Anonymous, I could never venture this far away from my usual AA dissertations.
Always I have tried to find the "meaning" of poetry or poetic prose.

I shall not work so hard at trying to 'interpret' poetry, because I am beginning to understand that the words have an ebb and flow sometimes of their own.

This evening I have come to a realization that Poetry, as Music, Painting, Dance, Architecture, Computer Graphics and other art forms, is created twice. The writer and the reader together are co-creators.  A favorite Poet-Peep was kind enough in helping me to this understanding.

What is the experience, or where is the fun, the pleasure, the spirituality, of a work of art, unless I take part in the author's effort?

For me to comprehend precisely what a poem denotes, I  would have to know what even the creator of the poetic lines did not.   For it is not in knowledge that I grow, but in the EXPERIENCE of doing, feeling, writing, enjoying, sharing and  loving all things and Peeps as they are, as they appear to me...as they choose to be.

I asked a famous artist two years ago about a certain "Lady in Red" which he'd painted--a wall-covering canvass, beautiful (Price $32,000).  I wished to know what was meant by the expression of her facial features, of what was she thinking, saying?

He said to me  "She is thinking and saying whatever you wish her to be thinking and saying." And he walked away from me.

So is it with poets and poetry? Maybe!

Here is my first serious (LOL--Me, serious?) attempt at writing a short poem.

NOWHERE OR ANYWHERE

Into haze-filmed arms
of early-morning ball of fire I ride
As the warmth I feel within
Tries to match the cool outside

On the path to anywhere
Nowhere

Does it least matter
Who I care to meet
What I wish to happen
Just take me there, oh feet

Over that path to anywhere
And Nowhere

Arrived is the age to see, to do
What is different from before
Change is what's about
Either now or evermore

To be anywhere
To be nowhere

There is but thin space remaining
One year leans into the next
So the time is now to be
Me forevermore...nevermore vexed

Anywhere
Everywhere

NOTE:  For her patience and time spent in helping me with poetry composition, I dedicate this poem "Nowhere Or Anywhere" with love and peace to my Blog Friend and One Top-Peep DULCE whose blog is named Sweeter Poetry. Visit her HERE!