But I really just want five minutes

When the alarm clock rings, I want five minutes

To remember

That you chose me

And I chose you

I want to rest my arm on you

And listen to you breathing next to me

And when I call you at lunchtime

I want five minutes

To hear your voice

To hear your laugh

For you to hear mine

And when we meet at the end of the day

I want five minutes

Without worry or complaint

Just a hug

And maybe a mug, of tea

And when we turn off the light

I want to notice

That we are side by side

That we are already here

That you chose me

And I chose you

I want five minutes

Or sometimes more

About the poem:

My friend asked me to write a poem for his wedding. How’s this?

Bumped into you

I’m discombobulated

Give me just a sec

To freshen up

–

About the poem:

In Sahaja meditation I learned about something I’d experienced a lot, but never named. That is, that when we aren’t solid, we tend to pick up negative energy from others. I think of it as having a leak in my force field.

This happens normally throughout the day. But when I’m dealing with an addict, a serious mental illness, or a confused intimate relationship, I’m even more likely to get out of balance.

There are two strategies: One is to protect myself before I meet others by balancing and protecting my own force field. The second is to acknowledge that it’s natural to get a bit unbalanced as I move through your day.

I can strengthen and restore my inner peace through quiet time, meditation, nature, music, dance, art, nutrition, play and exercise.

I like the idea of excusing myself to freshen up, because I don’t need to pick up bad juju then spread it around. When I’m not feeling peaceful, beautiful, it takes just a sec to freshen up.

p.s. Isn’t discombobulated a fabulous word!

About the author:

Joan Gregerson wrote some books for you! They’re on Amazon and Kindle. Buy them!

Who is the better person

Who is more loving

Cloaked in words like

Dishes and laundry, and bills

And when will you be home

Frustrated

She was sure she was right

Sure that he’d soon agree

But he didn’t

She ran out of words

All that was left was

One tomato sitting on the counter

Not ripe yet, which was better than she’d hoped

A bit large though, which was worse than she’d hoped

She threw it at him anyway

With a scream added in for dramatic effect

Today’s argument was over

But not as she’d hoped

About the poem:

It’s hard to prove that we’re all that, when all we got is anger. This is true for spanking or yelling at our kids, spouses, students, anyone. Anger is not being strong. It is a lack of skills or creativity, or both. Let’s develop those skills and use our creativity to come up with a better world.

Too hot!

I roll myself into a small ball

And onto your palms

You pick me up

Care for me

In the shade of your words

In the serenity of your pondering

I cool down

I gain my strength

Then, I pick myself up

Able now to do

What I’d been too weak to do.

What I knew I had to do

All along

I can do now

About the poem:

You don’t have to be strong or smart all the time. But if when you are weak, you acknowledge this and go to friends that you know are good with what you need, you’ll be fine. As I did today, as I am today.

Three bows to Buddha

Bibimbap, rice cake, melon

Shady spot of peace

–

About the poem:

Buddha’s Birthday is a national holiday in South Korea. On my day off of work, I went to a nearby Buddhist Temple, Yongunsa, here in Samcheonpo. First we visited the main prayer space, slipped off our shoes and bowed three times to the main Buddha statue. These are full bows, meaning that for each you start standing, then kneel down and bend forward, touching your forehead to the ground, then come up.

Then we chose one of the many bibimbap serving lines. Older ladies served us each a bowl with the veggies and kim (seaweed), we added a dollop of gochu sauce, and in another line we added the rice.

We sat and at the bibimbap, then went for the dessert: watermelon, Korean yellow melon, and rice cake.

It was a very hot day, but there are many shady spots to sit, resting and enjoying the holiday.

Many Korean holidays are family-centered (bowing to ancestors graves).  So this was great for me, as I went with my Korean friends and could participate!

Hold it right there!
I want to paint you
To capture you
To memorize you

The blues and blacks
Reds and orange chunks
Yellow and white streaks
Melting across the sky
Spilling onto the water

Wait right there!
I can’t find my brush
My palette is all wrong
Slow down

Swirling around
Dripping from the sun
Into the sea
I can’t catch up

Ah, I give up
I’ll just sit here
Dangle my legs
And kick my feet

Sip you
Slurp you
Suck the last bit from the bottom of the cup
And drink you up

Open it, then remember

It’s blank. Grab a pen.

–

About the poem:

When I’m trying to make a decision, now I’m sure, the answer lies within. And it might not be exactly yes or no, stay or go, right or wrong. It might also be that the answer is less important than the asking. Or some confusing, but delightful puzzle, like that to provide a growth opportunity!

This is why meditation, nature, exercise, quiet time, creative ventures, music, dancing and the like are so important. They are the pathways to hearing your own inner voice.

About the author:

Joan wants you to relax and figure out how to enjoy life. She has learned a thing or two about this in the previous 52 years and is passionate about sharing this.  Her books are available on Amazon and Kindle.

Teach Me, Kiwi

Whether others see me
As ugly or beautiful
How
To get sweeter
Juicier

To give joyfully
Without regret
Exquisitely
Until the last drop

Teach me, kiwi

–

About the poem:

This week, I’ve been eating ripe ripe ripe kiwis. I break them open and eat them like a cavewoman. And feel like a woman. I wondered if the kiwi was sad to be finished. But no, it didn’t feel like that at all. It was like it was screaming in triumph. I want to go out like that, juicy and screaming in triumph! “The end!”

About the author:

Life is meant to be fun. If you didn’t notice that day, you died one day early. Books on Amazon and Kindle.

Tea is the only language
We haven’t lied in
The only one
We both understand.
More tea?

–

About the poem:

All I can say is that when you are trying to manage relationships cross-culturally, with different language, gender, age, and backgrounds, sometimes language just isn’t enough. And sometimes, tea is.  Thank goodness.