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Category Archives: Love

self-pity

the leaves flirt with the moon in a summer breeze,

flickering light between trees;

as I remembered our first kiss.

 

Now, here we sit, in our distance

without romance or adventure.

We sip our home-grown tea.

 

Flower without sun

Light without darkness of moon

Wilts in self-pity

 
4 Comments

Posted by on July 31, 2020 in Haiku, Love, Poetry, Still Quarantined, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 5th. 2020

 a note to my children:

You were all born with an Angel on your shoulder

Disguised as a small invisible white bird.

 

Look at you now! All grown up with a smile;

And without a frown, that ultimately always shines,

As bright as the moon clears the clouds.

 

Who knew how each of you would grow up;

with your mother and I. (in each smile and frown!)

 

Love you

For ever

As you were born

Sitting on your shoulder

we heard a white bird

Which our hearts still hear.

 
8 Comments

Posted by on June 6, 2020 in Children, Existential, Love, Poetry, Spiritual, Zen

 

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Notes found on the refrigerator…June 3rd. 2020

two mourning doves: (haibun)

      relationships are being defined in the environment of the nest they live in.

–some in a tree with no leaves that once held dreams.— the true skeleton behind the feathers exposes its heart.

     rattling off to a branch, bones tickling each other, they wait for another Love’s morning.

sunlight drying dew

summer’s warmth removes the sheet

pillow soft asleep

 

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Love: as ever has been

We have watched the sunrise

below the mountains and settle behind the sea.

 

 We have ridin’ the wind,

Walked beach sands and bused to Boston.

 

 We have taken pain

To the Joy of understanding.

 

 We have taken each other

Further than any of us have ever gone;

 

 By just being present.

True to ourselves. True to each other.

 

 We have been

As we are; as ever has been.

 

~Rt. 132 North~ R.K. Garon

 
1 Comment

Posted by on May 24, 2020 in Beginnings, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

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~Pine Cone Diary~ March 2020

     **********

There is a sickness in the air

Tree tops are passing the news

To the stones and the soil

To prepare the paths

Through the forest

And into the valleys

To the villages of compassion;

To be cured .

 

     **********

 

Above darkening gray clouds

The dim glowing sun

Caught my eye.

I started to hum,

“Everything’s gonna’ be alright.”

As dusk, settled on my chair.

I silenced it with a sigh.

 

 **********

 

From ground to empty stoneware pottery,

my soul poured out my life

into my morning’s coffee cup;

existence to non-existence.

Oh, then to remembrance;

of knowledge, when I first held out my hand

—holding, the first summer’s rose.

I emptied my cup

holding empty stoneware pottery

waiting in anticipation for tomorrow’s coffee..

 

 

 

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black coffee lover

an experience from the stars. blinking, shinning, glittering,

far too far from it all; sends its notice to me through heart and senses,

dusting my mind in powdered confection.

 

how can the infinite space of the universe capture and descend into my arms

a heart and mind so unfamiliar to mine?

from where could it fall?

 

i thank the morning for logic unimaginable;

quietly sharing toast with melting honey,

black coffee and smiles unspeakable.

 
13 Comments

Posted by on February 20, 2020 in Existential, Love, Outlaw, Poetry, Theater, Zen

 

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she is a lovely valentine’s morning

dawn flirts the tips of bare trees

sunlight fluttering through curtains

through a cracked open window’s —winter breeze

a million moon beams transcend from a prism above crinkled sheets

i lite a cigarette from across the room

watching her smile in morning’s sleep

 

rev: 2/15/2020/RKG

 
3 Comments

Posted by on February 15, 2020 in Companionship, Love, Poetry, Zen

 

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Hermit Island

Happy Birthday Abe, Dylan and the rest of you : )

 

I smell the sweet wind over the dunes

in a warm Maine summer morn.

Papa said it’s fine to dive into the Sea

between breaking waves and sky.

I took his advice.

I surface out of breath, with a smile.

Dusk faded into flickering flashing lights.

Chocolate milk and sparkling stars

captured in growing eyes.

Mama said, “Let them go,

There is no room in the car.”

We left them on the shore of the Sea

closing our eyes

as they were saved in memory;

with sparks of lightening in echoes of light.

It was time to go home.

But, she added “not until dawn”.

 
8 Comments

Posted by on January 2, 2020 in Children, Existential, Love, Mothers, Poetry, Zen

 

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Family’s Christmas Song

Wake up! Wake up! It’s Christmas morn! We don’t care where we come from, or were we were born! We’ve seen the gifts in every one’s heart —we have the reason — from where this starts.

Good morning! Scrambled eggs, French toast, home fries, hot cocoa, and coffee dark and local roast. Adulthood peeking into childhood memories. Quietly giggling, mama kissing all our cheeks warm —papa getting dressed, telling us to get ready for church, “to celebrate a birth, in a stable long before we are born, another child in a family melody —poor as dirt”. Long before we understood —long before we could. And — as all children should.

We wake up! Awake, —on this Christmas morn; joyously understanding the meaning —and the chorus of our family’s Christmas song!

fresh wreath cabin tied

marks a home that welcomes song

from a Holy night

[In the Old Testament books, several hundred prophecies about the Messiah and His blessed Kingdom can be found. They are scattered throughout almost all the books of the Old Testament, beginning with the Five Books of Moses and ending with the last prophets Zachariah and Malachi. The Prophet Moses, King David, the Prophets Isaiah, Daniel, and Zachariah wrote the most about the Messiah.]

And so we are born.

 

(Pastel and Ink by R.K.Garon)

2019

 
11 Comments

Posted by on December 22, 2019 in Christmas, Love, Poetry, Prose Poetry

 

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Mother’s day Notes Found On The Refrigerator 2019

 

faded

after winters’ welcomed visit

in fall’s final embrace

life arises from a warm colorful quilt.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

ever so bright

a glitter of rain

against the bark of a tree

—colors glowing in its prism—

is the same light

seen in all life.

 

 

—and its source—

has been made known,

for all that look.

—is all they can see—

 

Photo: R.K.Garon ~The Night Before Breakfast~

 

 
18 Comments

Posted by on May 11, 2019 in Children, Life, Love, Mothers, thoughts, Zen

 

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