Wooing the Ones I Love

I woo the ones I love.
I hope you know who you are.
If you doubt,
why yes
I am wooing you!
I woo the friends, the independents,
the lovers and the activists.
I’ll chase you down ’til you cannot run anymore,
After all, there’s no escaping the true love
of like-minded souls!
This is the loving I send to you
the kindness I give to you
the compassion I share with you..
You know who you are!
If you doubt, doubt no longer!

(c) 2017 Frances Osborne

Having a Gentle, Truthful Voice

A few years ago, a FB friend said that I had “a gentle voice.” So I was thinking about that. I hope my voice is always honest and gentle. Kind and truthful. Caring and forthcoming. To have both in your voice is a talent and a gift to be practiced constantly. People desperately want the truth and don’t get enough of it — but they also deeply fear harshness and criticism. So: Speak the truth, say your heart, but let love be your guide in words.

Simple Gifts a Shaker Song

Simple Gifts a Shaker Song.
This seems like such a “simple” lyric or song that it might be overlooked as being deep — but we all know that depth often disguises itself as simplicity — and certainly we overlook the gifts that simply, ordinary, easy things give us. The original song was classified as a Shaker dance song. We also often forget the importance that simple, easy, communal dance. I.e. MOVEMENT TOGETHER. For a few days, I am reminded that the opposite of “addiction” is connection. Please, if you are so motivated, look up more about the lyrics and the song.

‘Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free

‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,

To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed,

To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come ’round right


I feel that we are disconnected and that we forget this need to be a community embraced with each other.  We spread ourselves thin  – we move across country – we no longer live next to our families.

I believe we forget each other.  We no longer touch each other and as a result experience skin hunger.  I distinctly remember having skin hunger when I was a child and teenager.  When someone accidentally brushed against me or touched my hair, I experienced a desperate high and need and wanted that touch again.

We forget this togetherness. The dances of the community are simple maybe,  but the depth of community is often lost in our digital age. We do not connect deeply any more, do we? I know I don’t and my life is bereft and lonely because of it.

My dear, love is the order of the day.

When I am next to you, my friend, we spread our hands together

and experience the skin of each other.

When my friend is beside me, I am completely unified with the spirit

and how can I not but be ecstatic?

Beloved, be with me, be with me, never let me travel away from you,

let me stay with your soul and know your being.

Love, after all, is the order of the day, and the nature of the universe.

 

A Fistful of Yearning

I am clutching a fistful of yearning.
When I meet someone also clutching a fistful of yearning,
Let us open our hands and share this fistful with each other.
Our yearnings are no doubt the same or similar.
Our fists hold the same amount.
Do we open our hands and share?
Or do we close our hands tight and keep to ourselves?
But the size of our fists is the same as the size of hearts.
We could share, we could dare to share:
Which may be the hardest thing of all.
Who will share with me? Who will accept my sharing?

(c) 09-16-16 Frances Ann Osborne

Sending Love to the Universe

Okay weird thought of the day: I give all my love to the Universe and all of its inhabitants everywhere. When you give this kind of love, the Universe hears you back and reflects this same love back to you. Have a sensitive ear to the ways the Universe is hearing you and sending back. Sometimes there is a bit of detective work involved! Hahahaha! Seriously! You have to notice the little ways that the Universe hears your desires and responds to them.

Being A Judgement Free Zone

I don’t share memes very often because I think that there are too many memes posted on FB. But I’m posting this one. Yesterday a group of friends and I were talking about judgement. It was specifically said “We don’t judge you. No one judges you.” I like a judgement free zone, because I would not want to be judged for my frequent failings (I’m hard enough as it is on my own failings) so I do not want to judge others.

Often our first impulse is to judge. That’s natural, it’s normal! But if you can catch yourself doing that, or if someone points out that you’re doing it, and you work on it, more power to you.

In my mind, one of the most generous things you can give a person is a safe place to be vulnerable. To be a calm, quiet, accepting, loving presence. It can be hard to do or easy to do, depending on whom you are with. It’s easy to do if you like and love the person. It’s difficult to do when you don’t like the person or are uncomfortable with the person.

Be a judgement free zone: Try it, you’ll like it!

Selected Haiku By Ram Krishna Singh

Selected Haiku By Ram Krishna Singh | Submitted On August 14, 2016

1

Stopped for years

on the window sill

a singing clock

2

A drop embedded

in the half-opened bud-

winter morning

3

Half-hidden sun

calls clouds to thicken:

chanting mantra

4

Searching warmth

near a roadside tea stall

a beggar

5

Ash-smeared sadhus

wash off their sins in sangam-

makar sankranti

6

Intense prayer

pushing forward peace-

winged perfume

7

On the ring finger

pushing the diamond again-

brave new love

8

Lying listless

on withered creeper

a golden bird

9

A sleeping snake

curled between the eggs-

layers of leaves

10

Awake whole night

no angel cares to watch–

frosty morning

11

Fading flowers

lie with weeds between stones-

winter recedes

12

Nippleblack

two juicy grapes

between her fingers

13

Morning’s threshold

one more glimpse from moving car-

vanishing roses

14

Seeking refuge

on the wings of wind

scattered petals

15

A fading rose

lies with weeds between stones-

valentine day

16

Lonely

enter her body

mask revealed

17

Watching chess

in the taproom

a novice

18

Lonely sunrise-

a butterfly flutters round

dead marigold

19

Invigilation:

chits flying in from broken panes

Saraswati’s dance

20

She doesn’t let me touch

her nipples she fears

my octopus thrust

21

Last night’s rum

still reeks this morning-

wee smile

22

Not alone

in the midnight misery-

Easter season

23

In the wee hours

a short brush with death-

now resurrection

24

Mosque’s dome

lower than mobile towers

weaker God’s signal

25

Evening sky:

a pale moon behind

listless trees

26

Moonlight

wrapped in cloudy sheet-

nudity

27

Hidden

the mountain

in veil

28

On the road

an injured toad-

onlookers

29

Icy fish

laced with blood

spices smell

30

Arab spring-

tending death and roses

a short bloom

31

Midnight darkness

wrapped in loneliness

dreamy escape

32

A frog

bullied into the hedge

snake’s breakfast

33

Itching rheums

runny nose all day

monsoon

34

Rising dawn

from behind the wheel

home still far

35

Ready to jump

from the culvert

a frog and my grandson

36

Half-eaten

fallen under the tree

the last mango

37

Unexpected guests

a hell of formality:

third day of Ramzan

38

Incense sticks smoke

before the paper goddess:

Durga Puja

39

The woodpecker

still looking for the neem tree:

type VI/4

40

Drowsy

on the old sofa

haiku

41

Watching the moon rise

from the old balcony:

guru purnima

42

Reading tweets

mixed with porn teens:

yoga pants

43

Where has the moon gone?

I saw it two nights ago

uncertain grace

44

Drifting between

my eyes and the moon

floaters

45

Wet in sweat

from her underarms

perfume

46

Unashamed my son

sits tight over his trousers-

smiling mother

47

She recognizes

the difference in my breath:

drink in her absence

48

The morning dews

touch the hem of her skirt:

flight of first love

49

From the peepal

swirling raindrops-

palms open

50

Keep my night from

trauma revisiting

the soul in temple

51

Two large pegs

stuffed up sinuses

sexless night

52

Smelly sweat

in the new exam hall

two girls talk

53

Fresh flowers

before the paper deities:

navratri

54

Love takes to

animal of the body:

living again

55

The peepal in pot

she worships each Saturday:

phailin in backyard

56

Non-stop rain

confining me to Facebook-

depression

57

Between the lips

shadow of her tea:

lingering taste

58

November-

moths rising from nowhere:

Diwali waves

59

In the shade

talking haiku

to a schmo

60

Tastes the rose

a blue butterfly-

nimbling feet

61

Living life’s routine

cycled in infinite loop

feel so limited

62

Hunger haunts

a pavement dwellier-

Christmas again

63

The first winter

in the UGC colony-

breathlessness all night

64

Cyclonic rain

mating with the rising waves-

deserted beach

65

Her muscles

tighten up and the toes curl:

ecstasy

66

Autumn leaves

mount on each other-

sun’s dullness

67

Receding crowd

from the street fair-

Jesus in the eyes

68

Hidden between the sheets

my smothered senses-

salted honey

69

Short lives the sun

in the smoggy morning:

birthday visit

70

No festival

to bury wishes

made years ago

71

Going alone

an empty shadow

in the mall

72

From the ruins

rises a mute flame:

heaven’s song

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/expert/Ram_Krishna_Singh/88483

Regarding Grief and Change

I wish grief was as simple as following “the five stages of grief” 🙁 that would greatly simplify life! It would be nice if they were in order, too. But they aren’t.

The mythic of the 5 stages of grief and the order they go in was formulated by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, a wonderful and beautiful pioneer of grief, death, and dying. She was the seminal author on this topic.  Does that mean she was right? No. Does that mean she was wrong? No. Was she revolutionary? YES!! YES!!!

She introduced the topic and expounded on it. She made it acceptable to talk about grief and the process we go through.  She made it okay to talk about dying and our reactions to it. I’m grateful for that. You have no idea how appreciative I am of that.

Grief makes us human because we have human responses to loss. The big thing to remember is that it’s just not death that is a loss. In some ways, death is a traditional and unambiguous loss. You have no choice about it. It’s permanent. But other kinds of loss? More ambiguous because the person you are losing is still alive, active, and possibly doing things that are painful for you.

The grief literature is very extensive about death and permanent loss, but it’s not as good about the more ambiguous loss. I have total sympathy for this. The ambiguity resonates with me: because people are ambiguous about their feelings.  They can feel multiple things at once.  In the face of opposing feelings, even seeing two sides to the issue (which I think makes it worse), it can make a conclusion or resolution worse.

My final advice about anyone going through a loss or disappointment: IT IS OKAY, YOU WILL BE OKAY. WHAT YOU FEEL IS OKAY. AND IT TAKES TIME. DON’T LISTEN TO PEOPLE WHO JUST SAY “GET OVER IT.”

Because your feelings and your process are YOURS. You own it. It’s yours. Be it. Express it. Feel it. And most of all, take your time.

 

 

Bring Back the 1960’s, Please

Let’s bring back the ’60’s. Let’s bring back sit-ins and marches. Let’s bring back protest music. Let’s bring back flowers in guns. Let’s form idealistic communes again. Let’s scare the conservatives into a moral panic. Let fundamentalists know they ain’t the only religion around. Go nude if you want to. Have long hair, don’t shave your pits or legs, give up deodorant. That’s not a joke and I’m not trying to be funny. I’m actually serious. It’s a protest against societal norms. The popularity and endurance of Bernie Sanders has shown me that we are ripe for this.

Can we resurrect Pete Seeger and John Lennon?

They say young people don’t vote. People think their votes don’t count. What actually scares politicians is an active voting population. Think about that. It does scare them. Low polling numbers works in the politician’s favor. An active, informed voting population is scary because it has power. A protesting, action-orient constituency is totally frightening.

Anger and activism, my friend: embrace it.

GOP : The Party of the Hypocrites

It  seems hypocritical to me that the GOP were all over Bill for his sexual  philandering, but have kept mum about Trump’s.  They should be  consistent.  Either don’t let it bother them when any body does it, or  be bothered when anyone, regardless of party, does it. They don’t attack him for his multiple marriages, his cheating on at least two wives, children by multiple mothers, etc. But you know they’d attack anyone else who did that. What’s wrong with them?

A third woman alleges she was sexually assaulted by Donald Trump