Friday, April 10, 2015

When The World Overwhelms

I print out poems on hot pink pages
handing them out in the business district,
moving through the dark cool canyons 
between towers of glass and steel.

Sometimes a poem is all you can do.
Like breathing,
or walking with your head tipped back
so you can see the sky.

~Oriah House (c) 2015

8 comments:

  1. I like it. I do that stuff, too. Thanks.

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    1. Someone else I know who hands out poems on the street calls it "poeming." :-)

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  2. I love this one. Your time away seems to have sparked something. Thinking of doing the same.

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    1. Thanks Carol- and yes, the spaciousness does give more room for creativity.

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  3. Thank you for the reminder... that's precisely where I am, shutting down around my neurosis... I need to look up... to create space around the habitual tendency... thank you Oriah!

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    1. Susan, what a great insight- we do indeed tend to close in on ourselves when our neuroses have got us. :-)

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  4. Thank you for this:

    "...
    Sometimes a poem is all you can do.
    Like breathing.
    ..."

    That's what I felt like yesterday. It even felt like a poem was becoming my breath and sustaining my happiness thoughout the day. I will do more poems :-)

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    1. . . . a poem was becoming my breath. . . .lovely :-)

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