Heart Loves. Heart Hurts.
Heart Shares. Heart Shines.
Heart Shatters. Heart Mends.
Created with #AI @NightCafe
The Heart
Category: Poetry
DAY OF JOY
Marriage is a time of joy
For pretty girls and handsome boys.
The Groom is dressed in tailored black,
For everyone to pat his back.
The Bride is dressed in white lace,
For all to see her glowing face.
The Wedding’s now over.
The guests have gone.
But remember,
When things get rough
And the going bad,
Remember the day
When no one was sad.
The day you and your mate
Joined hearts as one.
So live each day with
Honor and love.
Today is here,
Yesterday gone,
Tomorrow your goal;
So keep holding on.
Make each day as long as it will,
And end each day with a
Beautiful Song!
For Daddy
Today . the 26th of April . my daddy would be 98 years old. But we remember instead with thoughts, love and laughter.
This POEM, is such a true representation of a small part of who he was and how we loved him. Mother and I miss him everyday.
DADDYS PLAYGROUND
An old green colored shed tops a makeshift work area
That once was a housing unit for my brothers’ cage of birds
Snakes and such.
Now it is filled with various sized bolts;
Some of which even the same size maybe totally different
For the need…
The aged fingers reach for yet another.
The area is covered with wheels, handles and motors.
The smell of gas and oil is sometimes nauseating.
But from sun-up to sun-down…with a few short breaks in-between
We can always find
Daddy
Tinkering with lawnmowers…edger’s
Sharpening blades
Unclogging fuel lines
Replacing wheels
All of which have yet a few good blades to cut
The fingers work tediously long hours
While sitting on a stool –
Comprised of an old bucket with a board on top
Finished product…
A labor of love and frustration thrown in
Here and there
They’re wheeled out to the road, curb side
With a sign – for sale –
And the waiting begins.
But the ages fingers reach for yet another to conquer
With his loyal companion at his feet,
His dog sable
Daddy begins the task that will yet continue
To fulfill his hours under the old green colored
Shed searching fingers reaching to find the
Right tools and bolts to
Sharpen blades
Unclog fuel lines
Replace wheels
Sitting on the short stool …. The bucket and board.
Until the setting sun brings a dinner call from Mother
We know where we can find daddy
In his playground
With wheels and blades of steel.
This represents, Daddy, Mother and myself… the three of us. When daddy left. We miss Daddy Everyday.
CONFUSED
If, you’re checking in on me, or watching what I might post… I certainly would appreciate some feed-back on my progress that has got me so confused about the layout!
WHAT, you might say … WHAT Am I talking about? That’s my problem!
My Poetry that I’m going to post … Heart Strings (in the works)
And My Art Corner. This is the one that I’m having difficulty with.
Making sure the pages and what will be, flow smoothly, but with so much going on in my life I find myself, confused about what should be instead of letting it flow with ease I guess!
I don’t even see right now the cats & tags!
I know its’s early or late .. me, I do need to get to bed! STAT . So If you’re inclined to take a peek, I certainly would appreciate your feedback!
Please Help I Need Your Opinion
If it’s not too much to ask, I’d really like an honest opinion.
About Web Sights
Yes I know I’m here on WordPress .. but what other might you use for other venues?
Blogger? GoDaddy? I’m not even sure of what all is out here. Or do you put all your eggs into one basket … here (or elsewhere).
I’m torn, because of cost, but I have so many poems that I’d really like to showcase, as there is a book with a title in the library of congress with Copyright… but I’ll probably never get it fully proofed as it should, so one or two at a time will work.
Creative ART & my Hand-Painted glass. Yes, I guess I’ve had my hands in a few things throughout the years with so many interruptions… I just need to try and focus on one or two and show what I’m capable of!
That’s why my question.
And with WordPress… It’s a pain sometimes, trying as now to compose and it keeps moving words into other parts as it pleases! I also like the poetry to be displayed as I wrote them.. NOT everything is up and down left to right ..and I want it to be shown as I wrote them and intended for them to be. AND different fonts are always a way of expression with me.
I do hope that someone will read, understand this and help me out. My time is precious as I’m a caregiver of my Mother who will be 95 in April. So my time, is when I can I want to grab an easy place to Hang My Hat!
Thank You for your time.
Decisions
Having a difficult time trying to figure out and design another ‘site’ for my art creations and my ‘stuff’.
Apophysis, Digital, Fractal art designs that are incredibly fun and fascinating. Along with a few other applications derived from the same premise. design with fractals… Some I’ve tried and way beyond my mind with so many other things that arose, my mind was not into it… but a couple are indeed worth trying.
And NOW, there has come the AI creations, that Ifind so intriguing and unique, but sometimes my mind goes into dump mode and there’s nothing there with the visual that so many have. BUT I have created some that I’m thrilled with.
So WHERE do I go and what do I do? STAY here or go to another(s) sight?
My Poetry, I also have listed at BLOGGER, one of the book parts that I’ve sat on for many years. I Really Need to start showcasing them again!
AND least but not forgotten, is the hand painted glass that I cannot do at the moment, but I would like to share what I created and the pieces I still have within my arsenal!
HELP!.. Now there are three parts to my book of poetry, and think best to separate out.
The designs of fractal creations … so many sections!
My glass .just one sight will do!
Helpful suggestion are so welcome!
Daddy’s Playground
Daddy’s Playground
An old green colored shed tops a makeshift
Work area that once was a housing unit
For my brothers’ cage of birds, snakes and such.
Now it is filled with various sized bolts;
Some of which even the Same size, may be
Totally difference for the need…
The aged fingers reach for yet another.
The area is covered with wheels, handles and motors.
The smell of gas and oil is sometimes nauseating.
But from sun-up to sun-down…with a few short breaks in between:
We can always find
Daddy
Tinkering with lawnmowers. . . edgers:
Sharpening blades
Unclogging fuel lines
Replacing wheels
All of which have yet a few good blades to cut.
The fingers work tediously long hours
While sitting on a stool
Comprised of an old bucket with a board on top
Finished product…
A labor of love and frustration thrown in;
Here and there…
They’re wheeled out to the road, curbside;
With a sign – for sale –
And the waiting begins.
But the aged fingers reach for yet another to
Conquer – with his loyal companion at his feet
His Dog…Sable…
Daddy begins the task that will yet continue
To fulfill his hours under the old green colored
Shed; searching fingers reaching to find the
Right tools and bolts to
Sharpen blades
Unclog fuel lines
Replace wheels
Sitting on the short stool…the bucket and board.
Until the setting sun brings a dinner call
From Mother:
We know where we can find Daddy
In his playground –
With wheels and blades of steel.
Angels Cry
Dear God
I hear the angels cry
They’re weeping tears
Are sad
Babies dead
Why
Dear God
I hear the angels cry
Ones we love
Cradle the body
Lifeless now are they
They’re weeping tears
Are sad
Babies dead
Why
Dear God
I hear the angles cry
Deborah Register©2006
3.28.95
**This was from a feeling a felt while in Texas on the border, leaving and going back home to Florida … A few days later: April, 19th; was the Oklahoma City Bombing.
Remember the Child being held in the arms … and those children lost?
White Darkness
White Darkness
Around you, are dark shadows in the night.
You are aware of the stillness in the air, but, not understanding the calming peace coming within you.
But a fright, the darkness of the shadows,
and its hold of:
The unknown…
The unseen.
Relax – as in a white room with no way of escape, but a reason for being; such a calming peace, from the dark shadows; and clothed; as the day of one’s birth.
Darkness around, but yet the feeling of fresh a new reason. To find solitude – not fright – but inner peace of white, the stillness in the air; and the calming peace. Relaxed you feel safe from harm.
It’s Death.
Acceptance of a new beginning,
or perhaps just an end.
Certainly a change – destiny.
No longer to be faced with fright of the dark shadows. But to find final peace within oneself.
As the stillness of the air, the white rooms’ serenity brings a calming welcome end.
An understanding of the darkness, the shadows,
to become white calming hope of life’s final purpose on earth
Death; Life.
Deborah Register
MothersHeart 