Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “acceptance”

02 Aug 2021
3 Comments

Retrospective

What is it you treasure?

You’ll know when it’s gone.

To see leaves on trees,

to hear the oriole’s song.

To sit on the ground

with nary a thought

of how you’ll get up again

or not…

To feel the strength

within your fingers

as you press the strings

and the music lingers.

And why do so many

things fall to the ground

and I make that noise

when I bend down.

And I thank all Gods

that I took the time

to do things I loved

when in my prime.

For even if I can’t

do them now

I can look back

and remember how

I made music with friends

I danced and wrote songs,

I painted, not caring if

I did it wrong.

What is it you treasure?

Enjoy it today.

Make memories now.

Don’t wait, no, don’t wait.

Posted in Writings and tagged , , , , ,
10 Nov 2015

A Prayer and a Plan

I will take this day
just as it has come to me
and make it my own.

I will see the world
through eyes bereft of judgement
and life will be good.

And when the day ends
I will smile and say ‘goodnight’
and I will mean it.

#119

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , | Leave a comment
30 Oct 2015
2 Comments

What I’ve Learned of Love

Foolish poets speak of love
Foolish lovers quote the poets
they pine and swoon and long for love
till someone else deigns to bestow it.

Poet, lover, both aspire to
lose themselves in someone’s eyes.
Aspire to give their heart away
as if it were some tawdry prize.

I’ve been loved and have loved also,
and what I’ve come to understand
is two can’t become one unless
each are strong enough to stand

alone, but choose to be together,
each one absolutely free
to find delight in one another
and be just as they want to be.

#108

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , ,
29 Oct 2015

Okay Expectations

Shoot for the moon, go big or go home,
We’re encouraged to reach for the top
in a single great bound, a Herculean leap,
to not know the meaning of stop.

We’ve put all our energy into the struggle
to accomplish our great expectations.
We are the weapons we hurl at our targets
no time for calm contemplation.

Instead of aiming for great expectations
Maybe this is what we should do…
just relax and accept it’s alright to reach
for okay expectations too.

#107

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment
11 Dec 2012

The Five Stages of Winter

Denial is that first skiff of snow.
“It’ll never stick, you’ll see!”

Anger starts when that little skiff
gets up past your knees.

Bargaining is when you shovel the walk
but the rest you just ignore.

Depression blows in when the drifting snow
Is halfway up your door.

Acceptance starts when you come to terms
That winter’s here to stay

and right after that the sun comes out
and the snow all melts away.

#353

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
21 Sep 2012
2 Comments

The Five Stages of Food Grief

Denial
Eggs can’t be bad for me
I’m sure I read an article
that told me that they wouldn’t hurt
my ventricles and hearticles.

Anger
Drat it! Everything I like
has cholesterol and salt.
I should smack the manufacturer.
It’s all his gol dern fault.

Bargaining
I could eat a steak today
then for the next two weeks
drink water, and browse melba toast,
and  salads laced with leeks.

Depression
Oh, I give up. If it tastes good
I should probably spit it out.
I won’t live any longer but
it’ll feel that way, no doubt.

Acceptance
What is this? Guacamole?
Whole grain bread, home made jam?
Food’s better when it’s fresh
and doesn’t come out of a can.

#272

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
18 Apr 2012
5 Comments

Things I Know For Certain

The keys of B and E have no sharps.
B&Es are done on flats by people who don’t have keys.

Black is absence of reflected light while white is the acceptance.
To see things in black and white reflects an absence of acceptance.

Tempered metal doesn’t break when you hit it
People with tempers tend to break and hit back.

Other than that it’s all pretty much by guess and by golly.

 

#116

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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