Search

The Owl's Wise Eyes

Tag

words

Sunday Morning

asset133-png

 

Sometimes I count the way you look at my hair in the wild and green Sunday morning walks at the park. I count the stare.

One blink. Two blink. Three and four.

And when I try to look back, you turn your eyes to the ground. As if the ground has something more important to show you. I blink at your stare in the ground. As if it could tell me why my auburn hair fascinates you so every Sunday morning.

 

© Nicoletta

 

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

 

 

Photo by Kyriakos Christodoulides

Song: Jolene-Dolly Parton

 

Ever Since

asset63

Since when do I
Close my eyes
And dream
Of nothing but you?

Since when have your
Deepest thoughts
Become my own?

Since when do I
Call your name
And think it
Is me I am calling?

Since when
Did my heart
Start beating for you?

Since when
Did I tell it
To never stop?

owl

© Nicoletta

 

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

 

Photo by Nicoletta: Oban, Scotland

Song: A Song for Lovers- Richard Ashcroft

 

City Dreams

asset(30).png

She woke up to the noise of the city
Bothered by the trouble inside her.
Like a traffic jam on a Monday morning
Her heart spilled with emotion.
Candlelight flickered on her bedside
It’s romantic haze drawing near to a close.
Show must go on.
Creativity sparked her senses awake
As if that was the only thing keeping her going in this world.
Midnight shackles locked her in dreams of facades and illusions.
Morning light she was alive
To be the person she was born to be.

owl

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

Photo by Nicoletta: Calgary, Alberta 

Song: Angela- Lumineers

What is Love?

asset(29).png

What is love?

With these three words

She walked with pride

The rising sun in full blossom.

 

What is love?

She boldly asked

In full concentration.

Can I feel it?

Or taste it, even touch it?

She wondered

Tilting her head on the splashing auburn sky

For response.

 

Can I be it?

Her eyes reflected the vibrancy of dawn

The innocence of youth

Played with her thoughts

Dizzying her mind

With sweet puzzling questions.

 

What is love?

She looked up

To the infinite horizons

With a faint sigh.

 

owl

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

 

 

Photo by ©Charles Newton Price

Song: Oliver Shanti- Bodhisattva child

Oh, Mother

Mother-Earth

In your hands I call the pain
To succumb to the tears
Of your rainfalls.
Oh, Mother
Forgive us
For what we have done.
Thousands of years
You have made this home.
And what have we done in return?

Mother, I breathe your air
In gratitude.
I bend down on two knees
As I thank you
For your trees.
I thank you
For all the blessings you have filled
In this beautiful land of yours.

Green and blue I worship you.
Mother, your grace
Joining us with the power of love.
Are we too blind to see
All that you have left us
Out in the open?

Mother, forgive me
For not praising you sooner.
The days birthing
My eyes awake
How could I have missed
That my skin and bones
Are one and the same as yours?

I thank you once again
And a million times more
For waking me up.
Mother, shake them all from slumber
To see how alive you truly are.

owl

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

Who am I?

alice1951-bluray-04

Really? All in all: who am I? We might ask ourselves this question often; or never at all. We might look at ourselves in the mirror and think that’s who we are. That by looking at our image we’ve discovered the big mystery of understanding ourselves. Or through the eyes of our lovers, we might believe we’ve received a representation of who we are. Through their understanding, we believe that to be the truth about our identity. Their observations, criticisms, judgments even their own personal insecurities become our own. As if we didn’t have a mind of our own, we give our self power away to others, thinking they respect us for doing so. But in a truthful slap in the face, the only thing we gain where we abdicate our personal power is the sting. Our cheeks are left burning bright red, from the sheer power of our own weakness. It is not the eyes of others that will give us merit of some kind. Not the person you share your bed with, nor your business partner, not even your mother or brother or you name who will tell you “this is who you are.” They can attempt to do so. In in their attempt, you may be tricked into believing that is the truth.

“You are a failure” will poison you for years, unless you wake up and call it’s bluff.
The same goes for “You are the best at everything you do.” Now you may ask, what’s wrong with a compliment like that? But if you take a strong grip on that statement, it can boost your morale to the level of a blindfolded lion that can’t see the upcoming cliff ahead. Getting too full of yourself will not help you in any way, nor give you the answer to who I am. It will leave you in a self-inflicted illusion where you think you are better than others.
Humans tend to imitate others emotions to try to fit into modern society. This is also triggered by social media and trends, where people try to be other people so that they can be accepted. We copy others behaviors thinking it is “cool” to do so because of the fear of being rejected for being different. But the irony is, we aren’t even being different by not following society’s expectations of “this is how you should be”. We are just being ourselves. Yet, the idea of just being yourself stirs so much fear, as the vulnerable, naked character is prone to judgment by attempting to be authentic. When all masks and facades are removed, that is when we step out of character and actually become us for a change. Just the idea of not being liked for who we are, causes us to step back into character and role play, in order to gain acceptance from other people.
So we adjust our talk, our likes, dislikes, our appearance so that others will give us a thumbs up, or press the like button on our social media. We even program ourselves to think in a certain manner and act in a certain way. Almost like a computer code, we download what will be a socially accepted self into our being and robotically act upon it.
The time has come to put an end to this crap. Excuse my non-poetic diction, but that is what we’ve come down to being. A pile of smelly, fly-buzzing crap. As blunt as that. And if we don’t clean up this mess, I don’t know who will. The other day I was watching “Idiocracy” and thought to myself, despite the extremes, humanity is sadly starting to reflect that movie. We are giving our power away to large corporations, allowing them to poison the food we eat, the air we breathe, forcing us into modern day slavery, selling us the false illusion that we’re free. All we care about is becoming “educated” in a system which chooses what to spoon feed children, to train them to find good work and pay, education which doesn’t even allow the freedom of thought. And we accept it all without a blink in the eye. All past attempts of reform, were considered crazy or the people were prosecuted under false crime accusations or even killed. The worst of all criminals, people attempting to change the medical structure, pharmaceutical companies obliging people to depend on the green snake for cure, seducing people into thinking they cannot cure themselves. Religion, attempting to control people on their mission on earth and how it will directly effect the beyond. The life after this one; even the imagination of that is taken away from us. We are give prescriptions and without questioning it, we drink it up. Enough is enough.
Who am I?
For a minute, even a second, forget about those three words just asked. Forget about everything just read. Forget about if you agree or disagree. About the food you just ate or are going to eat. What you will do later on, or tomorrow or next week.
For a moment, right now, just feel your beating heart. The rising and falling of your breath. The silence of your mind. Concentrate on nothing else but these gifts.

You are alive. And you are you. Just remember that, in case someone ever asks you: Who are you?

owl

© Nicoletta

Love, I’m Sorry.

burning-heart

Love, I’m sorry.

I forgot to celebrate you today.

You see, I couldn’t find you

Under all these stuffed bears

And fancy roses.

You weren’t to be found

Under the sheets

Or in this bar of chocolate.

I couldn’t eat you

Or see you

Or feel you.

Love, I’m sorry.

I couldn’t pretend.

I found you in

My eyes the other day.

I heard you in music

Saw you in art

Felt you in play.

A woman’s patience

That boy’s innocence

My grandfather’s wisdom

Her humour

His laughter

The light of day

Dark of night

Health

Happiness

Heart

Love, I celebrate you.

Just not today

Not in that way

I’m sorry.

owl

© Nicoletta

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your Home

beauty

Light will guide you Home.

Your true Home is within you. Within every single experience you participate in.
You choose your experiences based on your life purpose and path. There is no one else in the entire world who has the same path as you. That is the Brilliance of this Life.
The Magic is within you. You are the Magic. The Creator of every single thing you touch.
How Beautiful is the experience of creation itself?
You are an active participant of creation. By manifesting whatever life you wish, based on your Actions. Your actions are what build Who you are. Who you always will be.
The choices you make, create a Being.
A presence who is in constant relationship with what it has created. Yet, if past choices are perceived to be “wrong” by stirring negative emotions in any way, this does not mean that you cannot Change that aspect of yourself. You are the Being of your own Creation. Thus, any hurt you may feel within yourself may be healed by you. And You alone.
Forgiveness. Compassion. These are essential ingredients for your remedy. Whatever is in the past, has been lived. The highest teaching possible has already been learned by you.
Move on. Forward. There is no looking back when you are living the Now. Being present.
In this moment. Here. Now.
There will be no other moment like this one. Enjoy it.
Every single breath you inhale into your lungs. Breathing life into your Essence. Your Creation. Your Being.
You are your Breath. The oxygen in every cell of your body. The ultimate Healer, breath is. The breath of life itself can surpass all challenges you are faced with. They are mere reflections of what is detected to be missing within. What the soul has yet to learn is what challenges you most.
Face it. Full on. With Strength and Courage. You, the Divine Creator. The manifested form of Life Itself. You. Have absolutely No-thing to fear. You can face Any-thing.
And Any-thing will face you with a smile on its face for your power in facing it.
Stand your Ground. Mighty and powerful.
With the Will of your God self, like a flame igniting your heart.
Your heart is of fire. Breathe it’s full flame in.
Only it, will guide you home.

owl

© Nicoletta

 

 

Photo by Charles Newton Price: Calgary, Alberta

 

 

Pulse

thumb_IMG_4138_1024

And suddenly

I learned how to write

With an open heart.

The mind

Long left behind

Was drifting

In logic.
And with my pen

Held tight

In the right of my hand

I printed

Words with pulse.

owl

© Nicoletta

If this poem had a voice, this is what it would sing…

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑