20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


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Invisible

The well runs dry and, parched with fear,
I agonize that I, myself, may shrivel up,
run dry of heart-felt words, that in the end,
the new will once again be old, dwindling
on the page where the worn out and overused
go to seek their final solace, exhausted
from their time of service to the higher cause
of originating expressions of light,
inspiration, and heart-pouring sentiment,
the depth of inner being
spilled forth on public pages

I write my words for you,
my life laid platter-bare,
but what if, after all the words dry up,
there’s nothing there?  What if
I really was invisible?

©SpiritLed 2014


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Into the Light, Where You Belong

Smell of mold
and musty leaves
raindrops on the windshield
in the still-dark dawn

linger in the depths
of darkness and desire,
where your spirit most
yearns to be free

where the long-held
confinement has rendered you
listless and lifeless

crazy before the eyes of man
yet pure in your creative depth,

where the Wise Woman,
flowing silver hair,
adorned in robes
of lavender

holds open the door
for you and cries,
“Lay down your arms!

Fight no more,
grieve no more,
die no more.

Walk into the Light,
where you belong.”

©SpiritLed 2014


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Goddess Rising

The energy in here is changing, she says, as she takes a drag
from her cigarette.  No sooner have the words fallen from her lips,

than a strong, cold wind blows open the door, whips around the
room, and knocks the cigarette out of her hand.  There before her,

in a swirling mass of lavender and ghostly white, hovers her greatest
love and her greatest fear.  In familiar solidarity, she opens herself

and feels the familiar rising from her pelvis, filing her abdomen with
white light, rising to her heart, radiating out to fill the room, moving

through her arms and legs, projecting beams of light from her feet and
hands, moving up to her throat, madly sounding a beautiful and foreign song

with her own voice, rising all the way up to her crown, emanating from the
top of her head, rising and churning and radiating within and around her,

spreading her farther and wider,  expanding and creating, out into the street,
the town, the planet, the stars, the moon, until she again becomes one with

 All There Is

© SpiritLed 2014 (http://wp.me/p2Ptur-6g)


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When Silence Ends

When, as a child, did you play happily
by the stream, and come singing home,
passionately sharing your adventures,
only for the beloveds to tell you, “Quiet!”

And when, in your classes, did you
confidently speak your truth, answer
their questions, paint your construction
paper masterpiece,  and the trusteds told you,
“It’s not good enough.”

And when did you feel the whisper of spirit
in your soul, gently guiding you on your way,
and you shared, and they laughed?

And when did you stop listening, painting, writing, speaking, trusting? 

And when will you decide that the darkness has
lasted too long, that the  passion of a new day
can no longer wait, lest  you tear free from your
own skin where you’ve been confined all these years?

That stumbling across stones and briars,
feet cut and bleeding, is preferable to the safe
and righteous path, where no pain, in fact
nothing at all, makes cuts into your soul?

When will you decide that fear of words
without real meaning will no longer be the
prison walls that demand freedom of the captor?

And when will you stoke the flames, when will you once
again tend to the spark, blow the breath of life into
the still-smoldering ashes, collect the branches and
twigs that have fallen in your path, burn them on
your altar, and fuel the dawning of reclaimed light?

© SpiritLed 2014


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gentle brush

thCA1S0L72

wash warm hues, gentle brush

across a heart forgotten.

it’s soft caress no sadness lingers

renew it’s every fray and tear.

create a masterpiece, my lovely

erase all coloring of fear.

nuance streamed light and shadows

our layered texture, sweet romance.

and devote each waking minute

as Monet with Lily Pads.


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Treeless Christmas

No Christmas tree adorned our living room
this year. Our children traveled. So did we.
A few small decorations blessed the bloom
of Christmas in our home. We couldn’t see

the ornaments and tell the stories one
more time of how they came to be, but light
from glowing candles gave us indoor sun
and made the season merry, lovely, bright.


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Image

This poem is not for my precious son, whose death
took everything from me that I hung on to, believed in.
It is for those who can’t  see that I am still here.
but I have been forced to live in a world where there
is not glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m so tired of it all, so tired of the lies.
The further I fall, the higher you rise.

It takes all I have, each moment I try,
I give and I give, till I think I will die.

I’m sorry that I was never enough,
My heart is long dead, the road’s been so rough.

All that I have, I have given to you.
And what have I left?  No joy and no you.

Just leave me here in my prison, my home,
Cause when you are here, I still feel alone.

Not a thing I’ve endured, suffered, survived.
Has helped you to notice,  that I’m still alive.

I still feel, I still hope, I still love, I still try.
Somehow through the darkness, I still survive.

Take just one heartbeat, one touch, one breath,
And remember I will love you till nothing is left.


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I Am Still Afraid(Acrostic Poem)

I see a light beam

At the horizon

May be it is an omen

Saying to me

To have some faith

In the decision I have made

Leave behind my fears

Leave aside my anxiety

And aim at

Fulfilling what I desire

Rise towards the sky

And have some faith

In me and my

Decision for my life.


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Haiku and Hay(na)ku

Haiku

the light ripples on

the waters of turquoise sea

smoke billows in air.

Hay(na)ku

rippling

on water’s

surface, is light.

*Hay(na)ku is a three-line poem with 1 word in first line, 2 words in second line and 3 words in third line. It can be written in reverse order as well.


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Palindrome/Mirror Poetry

Beware: It is quite difficult- at least I think so.

Here are the rules-

  1. You must use the same words in the first half of the poem as the second half, but
  2. Reverse the order for the second half, and
  3. Use a word in the middle as a bridge from the first half to the second half of the poem

Here is what I wrote(its a little silly)-

shadow in light,

brain’s light is

slight

is light, brain’s light

in shadow.


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other voices

Sometimes I
admire the
moon for it
cannot match
the sun’s glory
so it finds
it’s own patch
of sky to
brighten.

Sometimes I
admire the
nightingale
for it is drowned
out in the shrilly
shouts of other
fowls so it
finds its own
silence to
liven.

Sometimes I
strive for the
sun yet I
can’t reach it,
so I aim for
the twinkling
stars instead.

Somewhere
over the rainbow
the colour black
is weeping,
but then she
realizes the
mysterious beauty
of the night.


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Oh My Mind! (Silly)

Oh my my childish mind

Why you do fidgeting

Running to this extreme

And then to that

Why you no concentrating

It is your slave’s exam

Why you no study

Oh my my master

Oh my my mind

Why you go to the dark

Out of the blue

Why you not absorb light

And enlighten your slave

With a good feeling for once

Oh my my master, my mind

Oh my my childish mind.

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