Thoughts of the Hour --- 12/7/09

Joy

What a day to be feeling Joy.

The blind has been lifted from my head.

I am free and clear

To honestly think and hear,

And speak my mind.

What a wonderful feeling this happiness is.

Floating on thin air,

Gliding through my day.

A smile, a wave

To somebody new

Its a whole new approach of going on my way

The mood is Legato

The pace, Allegro.

Flowing quickly from place to place

Smoothly hasteful,

Resulting in bliss.

Week 11 Poem: Music

Music

No more words remain,

All thats left is song.

The notes on the page

Start to relieve my heart of rage.

This cacophony of words

Turns into a symphony of sounds.

Emotions and thoughts abound, resound

Even though no Ancient Language is spoken.

Images come to mind.

Eyes closed, tranquility creates an inner-peace

So kind, so moving.

And by just the use of sound,

Tears flow to eyes

And images go to head.

The emotions transfer smoothly

From pen to paper,

Paper to string.

It is this music that calms me

More than anything.

Week 10 Poem: Friendship

My Best Friend

Mostly sunny days

With a slightly rainy phase.

The rain clouds don’t ever mean anything bad.

We need them to survive.

Without them,

We would never have flowers to give to each other,

Or rain to dance in,

Or rainbows to marvel at.

That’s the way it is for you and me.

We may have our hard times,

But there is always a rainbow at the end of the road.

Always one more thing to be grateful for.

Looking back at the pictures, the memories start to flood.

Innocence and youthfulness-- Jumping from puddles to mud.

Nothing can separate us

Nothing can bring us down.

Even through our time of distance, we’ve made our friendship grow,

And after all the time we've spent together, I'm pleased with the status quo.

<3

Week 9 Poem: Food

Food Poem

Healthy, wealthy business-folk

Starving their souls of compassion,

Starving the poor of nutrition.

Needy, greedy, spoiled folk.

The waste cycle continues.

Buy and toss.

Buy and throw away.

All this processed food,

Using more chemicals than food itself;

Creating health issues that shouldn’t even exist

Chemicals that trigger depression and anxiety,

Irritability and hyper-activity.

Marketed towards children,

But affecting the world,

Downing ourselves in the Red #40 Lake.

HFCS and MSG:

The acronyms of the century.

Thoughts of the Hour --- 10/28/09

A Freewrite with the topic of "Spoken Word".

I had ideas, I had a foundation, but now all I'm left with is smoke.

My thoughts blown out the window, the walls collapse around me.

This "reality" as i'd thought, was just as gaseous as a dream.

And now, as I try to regain my consciousness, my piece of mind,

I am constantly reminded that reality IS a dream. Life IS a game.

Everything is nothing in the end.

The points, the money, the status.

They vanish just as a flame dipped in water.

Nothing is permanent because "forever" is impossible.

A Love, it is said, can never die. And while that may be true,

When the "carriers" are both dead,

Who will be the one to send, receive, or judge their love?

Despair is short lived compared to the life of text.

The Chariot of Death can not be outrun, it can not be drowned,

And it can only be slightly slowed down.

So why fear Death?

Throughout our lives, there are landmarks of maturity.

The coming of age, the gaining of wealth,

The loss of teeth, and the departure of Life.

Death is just the next level.

There is always one more step for everything.

Words can stay, and remain,

As well as go far beyond that next step.

Words are an elevator in this world of stairs.

Update!

I am sorry for the lack of posts recently. I am working on it, but these last couple weeks have been really difficult for me to think.

Time will improve things. It always does.

BUT I have entered a poetry contest. It is world-wide, and I am excited. Results don't come until February, so that is a very long time to wait, but I am excited and confident.

Send me good thoughts.

Thank you.

www.dorothyprizes.org

Week 6 poem: DRUGS

DRUGS

The pharmaceuticals have all the power,

Then they give it to you in pills that make you sour

“You have shortness of breath?

Then let’s take some death!

This will all be over by the end of the hour.”

It’s a silly little limerick

But you’ve signed so now you’re bound to it.

It’s a contract so grim,

It’s impossible to win.

It’s a system you can’t outwit.

The pharmacists and psychiatrists

Make their livings on commission.

They give you pills in small boxes,

Call it a sample,

They say “it’s trial-sized, I swear!”

But then the addiction starts,

And the jitters begin.

You’re stuck in the middle of the ocean,

And you don’t even know how to swim.

Now, I am not a doctor.

Nor a smart-ass with a degree

But answer me, oh misery,

How can such things come about to be?

From the doctor or the grocery store,

It’s all the same these days

You can get your OTCs or Ecstasy

Just with a stroll down Pharmacy St.

Thoughts of the Hour --- 10/9/09

Cancer

Leave me empty, leave me naked.

Leave me hidden under

A knit night-cap

Make me embarrassed, make me ashamed.

I've got no fault in this, yet it is me that keeps getting blamed.

Blamed for the expense, blamed for the time.

Blamed for everything else YOU can't take responsibility for.

You are a LIAR!

A burglar and a thief

I'd love to throw you in jail,

But you're already in my cells,

Calling them your own home.

You are close to my heart.

Closer than anyone will ever be.

Closer than is possible,

For human, or technology.

You live inside of me,

Draining energy,

Taking my hopes and dreams away from me

The white-blood-cells can no longer help

Because the chemo kills more than the cancer itself.

Thoughts of the Hour --- 10/8/09

From a freewrite in class today, with the topic being related to a "cacophony".

Freewrite 10.8.09

This cacophony of errors,

Chirping crickets in the creek.

I can not focus, I can not think.

My brain is filled with sound,

Music and noise bleed together with

The ambiance of the building.

The room is filled with sniffles,

The sickness comes nearer.

A new song, a changing season

The influenza epidemic comes more in to focus,

Its effects ever clearer.

Week 5 poem: Shoes

Shoes

Covering the feet of those big and small,

Creating, changing, destroying the world,

With the plaguing wrath of fashion.

Rise and fall.

Shoes.

An item so simple and common in our country,

But in others,

Children's feet stay battered and scarred.

Their callouses thicker than hides.

No money for footwear, it is all spent on food.

Yet, in our land of abundance,

We can spend more on a pair of shoes,

Than some families will make in a year.

A Walt Whitman style poem (2/12/08)

Train of Thought

Nothing to do, nowhere to go,

Looking for a topic to write about.

Searching, searching finding nothing,

Wanting everything. Waiting.

For the day to arrive,

For the package to come.

For my birthday, turning 16!

Topics now flow as if liquid.

Minds are a puzzle, a mystery, a game

Shifting, changing, constantly thinking

Always moving, "how interesting!"

Sleep beckons me, now its time for a conclusion.

Night fades in, good night.

Call and response between Poetry --- 9/30/09

What is Poetry?

To define Poetry,

Is to define Love.

It is to everyone its own idea.

Be it rhythm or rhyme,

Or just ideas written down,

There is no set definition.

It is not possible

To define Poetry.

It is a topic, an idea

So broad,

So vague,

So huge.

To define Poetry, is to disprove gravity

...Or say it doesn't exist.

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and in response to that....

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Poetry is...

A thought, a process, an attempt at reality

A dreamstate, emotions

In text and in voice.

Poetry is:

Expression of thoughts, so others can see

Your mishaps, your joys, and how you've come to be.

It is abstract, and shapeless

It's not even possible to put down a set form.

Poetry is inspiration.

Words, straight from the heart.

Poetry helps to heal.

It isn't peace...

But it is a start.

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Week 4 poem: ANGER

ANGER

Whenever I hear you say "I'm having a bad day",

It kills me inside to know that you hurt.

I get angry at myself for getting frustrated with you,

Just because the wires aren't connected quite right.

But even more so,

Because I know what its like.

I know what its like

To be lost inside yourself,

To be a slave to your own mind.

When everything you do is wrong.

When you just can't think straight.

I know what its like

To have days go by and question how and why things

Are as they are.

And I know what its like to have a black hole in your mind,

Taking up all your thoughts, and leaving you completely blank.

Its as if our trains of thought are completely off their tracks.

Its oh, so hard so see you hurt

And know that nothing can be changed,

And its nobody's fault, because there is no one to blame.

I know that you are trying, and I am trying too.

But everything takes time.

And change is always,

The hardest thing to do.

Week 3 poem: Hair

Hair

The wavy, the curly, straightened, or with frizz

Flat and no volume.

Abstract or bizarre,

Colored, greasy, styled, or shaved,

The hair on my head is never ashamed.

When getting old means getting grey,

And the hair, parted in the center, wanted so many years before,

Becomes permanent.

The era of the comb-over begins

Growing up in phases, one can watch it mature

The legnth of one's hair is a sign of growth

Youth and childhood years, with the short and clean cuts,

Then comes teenage assembly and the legnth expands.

To the scraggled, and scruffy, the un-kept, and the glue.

From the mohawks, through the buzz-cuts,

Hair is constantly changing,

And so are you.

Sad

How Can One Be Humorous?

How can one be humorous, on this saddest of occasions?

The storm clouds move.

Rapidly, and with thunderous sound,

Making all things wet.

I see people singing and dancing

Splashing in puddles, mixing the mud.

But I just feel like drowning in my sorrows.

The make-up, down my face runs like blood.

They crack a joke,

I fake a smile.

The hurt I hold inside my soul

It can never be let out,

I will never be made whole.

Some might call me pessimistic,

But I am stuck in my head, a slave to my own emotions.

All I know is that I don't know anything.

Week 2 poem: Heroes

As a forewarning, this is not my greatest piece of writing. As a class, we choose a topic to write a poem about for the rest of the week. We write three lines a day, and this is the result.

Heroes

Throughout all of human-kind,

People have always looked up to

A higher "supervisor" for guidance.

What is a "Hero"?

A person? A spirit? A thought?

A piece of your mind? An answer to your prayers?

It is all of the above, but none of them are right.

It might be a person, someone close to you

Someone famous, someone you look up to,

Or a person from the past.

A person to offer hope,

A celebrity, a role-model.

Inspiration, celebration,

A "Hero" is to you, and every one their own.

What This Is.

This is a blog I've created to show and share my writings, hopefully with people who will comment, and respond and give some constructive feedback.

I will definitely have atleast one a week, added every monday, but during the week, I'll probably add some others as well. I've been writing and saving things for 3 years, and I now have an outlet.

This is good.

Thank you, and ENJOY!

Fred "The Bishop" Kreider.

The first product of poetry class 2009

This is my first poetry assignment of the class this year.

YOU

You are a person. A human-being living.

You are a breath of fresh air on a cool spring,

Or frigid winter day.

You are hope,

A beacon for all the other You’s lost at sea.

You are the vastness of the oceans, the comfort of your home.

You are the world, the crashing waves, and the sea foam residue.

You are the calls of the birds, the winds through the trees.

You are the beating heart, the bass, the drums of the symphony.

You are the flutes, the strings, the melody.

You are a spiders’ web.

Complex, and beautiful, and strong,

Connecting many different paths to one single piece of art.

You are forever.

For better or for worse, till’ death do us part.

You are magical, a wizard in their prime.

You are spectacular, like the Fourth of July.

You are serene,

The peace, the strength, the desire I need to go on.

YOU ARE YOU AND I AM YOURS.