Panicked to be Free

I stagger around in my thoughts…as if an open book

as if a locked attic with no key and skeletons that wish to be free

My panic sets in whether day or night

In small snippets I remember the daffodils, the farmland, the rebirth, the light

In small, form fit spaces…this is where the head and the heart fight

I assume nature is alarmed, possibly having already panicked years before

Perhaps, the reason for a locked attic door

Today is a Gift

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Many people will walk in and out of your life,
But only true friends will leave footprints in your heart
To handle yourself, use your head;
To handle others, use your heart.
Anger is only one letter short of danger.
If someone betrays you twice, it is your fault
Great minds discuss events;
Small minds discuss people.
He who loses money, loses much;
He who loses a friend, loses much more;
He who loses faith, loses all.
Beautiful old people are works of art.
Learn from the mistakes of others
You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.

Friends, you and me … You brought another friend …

And, we started our group … our circle of friends …

And,repair-1 like a circle … there is no beginning or end …

Yesterday is history.
Tomorrow is mystery.
Today is a gift.

##Laszlo Kotro-Kosztandi

 

Cracks in the Pavement

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Way up here, a universe between the…

here and now.

There is still a chill in understanding the undertaking.

A personal best, per say,

in choices for the forsaking.

These are but cracks in the pavement, earthy and routine.

Times when the public handicap is less sublime…

Perhaps, to some, more obscene.

My sister does not understand…

or, better yet, has not taken the chance to know.

Perchance, had she ever glanced at the forever…shaking of my  hands.

Or, the new trend of hypocrisy across the North land.

She would see same blood…different set of plans.

As a youth, frozen in a tundra of moral mediocrity..

Envy, infinitely, encompassed me.

Heeled, I walked with my sister’s feet.

Begging my veiled thoughts to…retreat.

The truest wish I had ever spoke…

‘let those after me…feel less remote.’

Alas, the ‘stoned’ split tongue undertaker has come…

Blowing winds pass my attempts at changing the tides.

My sister…still, obtuse to our different rides.

In anguish, as I have done before,

I point to the cattle prodded like guileless clowns at the door.

Yet, the hand of many prop her to her fence.

And, stage sister against…

a forest to which she can never be lent.

Rural, I am.

Nonetheless, not so different from others…of big talk…small lands.

My heart, just the same… larger than life.

Urging me, these choices you’ve made cannot be broken by gun or by knife.

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Fife Farm

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The clover is invincible…

The green gold grass…waist high.

Stocks of infant corn stand in allegiance…out of the corner of my eye.

And, that is all I need to know today.

That is all I need to know.