I need the love of a thousand hearts

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By ImagineGolf on iStock (image licensed by author)

so tired
Weary of the anger
Worn down by the pettiness
Overwhelmed by the stupidity
Fatigued to senselessness by the ones who deny the truth
My bones ache
My heart hurts
My brain can handle no more pain
There is tired my friends,
then there is soul tired
Where the world has conspired to age you overnight
When the wine does not even help
The days you hide under the blankets,
no longer willing to chance another hour of misery
Eyes closed,
dreaming of the lightness of dreary
Hoping for the patter of routine
Praying the shadow of death decides to head on home
I struggle today to find the light
My eyes to the heavens
Sun rising in all its dancing brilliance
The morning light gives me hope again
Something I left on the side of the road many months ago
The only thing that heals my soul is love,
but there is so little of this precious medicine left in the world
I need the love of a thousand hearts
but I know to get I must give again
So I do what I can
I give what is left to me to those who need it more
Whatever is still standing of this damaged man,
I promise to touch a needy heart today
To offer words of promise all this will end
I will offer a hand and lift one who has fallen
I refuse to surrender when I still believe
my soul only heals through the power of your…

The god of beauty is mischievous, hiding in all women

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By Neyya on iStock (image licensed by author)

She was a woman of a certain age
Time relentlessly visited her every day of her long journey,
but Time wasn’t up to the task,
denied by a woman still a work of deep love and gracious beauty

Age is nothing more than the perfection of wonderful art,
the years slowly revealing the woman you were meant to be,
the innocence of youth replaced by quiet wisdom,
younger beauty turned elegant and graceful with your days

This wisdom gained through the best and worst life could devise,
demanded by the universe as payment for the experience of you,
yet you stand tall as a woman of strength and confidence,
wearied but never broken by an unrelenting…

Cultural Prompt — What does December mean to you?

I want to again find the lost magic of Christmas as a child

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By Martin-DM on iStock (image licensed by author)

I want to be four years old again this Christmas

I want to sit on my parent’s lap,
snuggled in with a cup of hot chocolate,
and my Dad reading the Night Before Christmas with Mom holding my hand

I want to sit on the floor and stare up at a giant tree that sparkles,
twinkles and dances in the light

I want to stare at candles that only came out at that time of year,
and smelled of everything Christmas,
and everything that was good in the world

I want to believe in the magic of Christmas;
where Santa Claus is coming tonight,
where the house is filled with love,
and where my parents spent time just with me
all of us hidden away from the craziness of anything outside our cozy…

What was once beautiful now gone

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By Kaiser Sosa67 on iStock (image licensed by author(

I once let a precious antique vase slip through my fingers
Shattered pieces littered the floor
What was once beautiful now gone
Seconds earlier it had purpose
Now nothing left but a memory of what was

When you are young
days become weeks
weeks stretch into years
and there is always a tantalizing tomorrow
where anything is possible and where your life begins
Time is the friend you believe will always be there for you
Why worry about life when you have a hundred years to live?

But then you reach an age where mortality knocks on your door
Now the years of your future no longer certain
Those years now become months
and even those months now become the hours of your life
something to be savored as they slip through your fingers
wasted hours nothing more than pieces of what was once…

You picked the wrong man universe, I love dancing in the fire

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By Rangtheclick on iStock (image licensed by author)

The universe conspired to destroy me
A love I thought would never end shattered,
my job lost to a world gone mad,
frantic days chasing money to stay alive

Enduring a smothering darkness making me weep,
the tears of a man pushed to the edge of his faith
Days leaving me sitting alone in the dark,
shaking in sweaty clothes,
growing angry at myself for not fighting back,
afraid if I do I would lose,
but knowing the only way forward is toward the light

I have nothing left to lose
nothing this harsh world has not stripped away
I am bored with my own tears
Tired of who I let myself become
Disgusted with the meanness erupting in my…

Sitting home alone makes you question what is in your head

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By Deagreez on iStock (image licensed by author)

Decided to take a walk around naked in my own head
Shocked to see the clutter and mess
My brain used to be a well-oiled mechanical wonder
But today it looks like a hoarder’s attic
Loose wires and rusty connections
Like an old shoebox full of pictures of people no one remembers
Faded memories scattered about on the floor
So overloaded I am not sure it fully functions anymore
Too much old baggage and not much room for new stuff
But I did find some pot from the 70s that might still be good

Sitting home for months makes you think about what is in your head
Time alone should be time for reflection
A chance to explore your own mind to see what is there
Today I can hit the reset button and change the direction of my life
Walking around in my head stepping over piles of old negativity
Cannot believe it is still there hiding under that blanket of doubt
What is in this lovable mess of a head?
What should be tossed away like worn-out shoes?
A mind still comfortable but oh so shabby
Have I let my head become like a cheap yard sale?
Poor people selling junk for a nickel other poor people do not…

The worst the universe sends you will not be enough

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By Srdjan Pav on iStock (image licensed by author)

You will crash to the bottom at least once in life
You lay there wondering if you can live another day
And the waves of pain relentlessly wash over you,
leaving you praying and begging your suffering ends,
so you can breathe again,
hoping your crying stops in the middle of the night

And the pain will end
Your misery slowly fades away,
you look back and wondered how you survived,
and you embrace the light of a new day

At this moment you realize the worst the universe
used to destroy you wasn’t enough to kill your soul
You come crawling out the other side of the darkest of nights,
now reborn,
tempered by the storm and full of rage,
standing defiant in the new light,
screaming to the sky,
Not today,
not to me,
never again will I be…

She danced because she was one of the living refusing to submit

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By BGFoto on iSTock (image licensed by author)

There are few secrets in a big city
I often sat on my tiny balcony,
hovering ten floors above the street noise,
tucked away in my dark corner,
seeing but never seen
a voyeur of life lived by lonely people
Her small apartment was in the next building
I do not think she ever slept more than a few hours a night
She always came home late
Still dressed in her work clothes
Always carrying more work and food
I never slept much myself in those days
Alone in a city they say never sleeps
A beautiful place I no longer could see
One of too many who needed to give up the dream and move on
A million people and still so alone
She would stand in the shadows on her deck around midnight
Glass of dark wine in hand,
Watching nothing…
and she danced
Headphones on she moved to the music only she could hear
Slow rhythmic dances
Arms high over her head
Soft flowing movements only I could see
I think back now and believe her dancing was rebellion
Fighting back against another lonely night
Proving to herself she was alive in the darkness,
a city not caring if you lived or died tonight
She danced because she was one of the living who refused to submit
Her dance of love performed just for her
Why does she dance I thought? …

I will submit then current will tear me from my precarious perch

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By Fotoduets on iStock (image licensed by author)

Stood watching the river at sunrise
Sun already heating the day
No sound but the gentle lapping of the water on the shore
I waded out in the cool water
Something I have been doing most of my life
Standing still I could feel the current tugging me downstream
A relentless force that traveled a thousand miles to touch my soul
Pushing me along
Always moving toward a destination I cannot see
Wanting me to be part of the flow of time
The river taking me to where it meets the ocean,
where it becomes one with time and then begins its cycle yet again
It will not be long now for me
I will submit then current will tear me from my precarious perch
The subtle grip of toes in the ever-changing sand will give way
Then I will join the others the river has taken
All of us on a new journey where life ends and life begins
Everyone destined to become part of something bigger
Me just floating along on my back with a smile
Face to the sun
Grateful for my time on the shore
Ready to see what is ahead for an old man of the…

Long nights and wasted lives

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By Keiferpix on iStock (image licensed by author)

He sat at the far end of the bar, his usual stool one from the end. The place was empty, mostly a weekend joint filled with twenty somethings dancing to old music and playing pool, getting louder by the hour fueled by cheap beers and shots, but the weekdays still belonged to the locals, territory never conceded in their war against change in this place.

This was the oldest bar in town, and the last of the local places on the river not taken over by developers who couldn’t stand anything they had not bought and tore down. Slowly, they replaced the history of this old river town with a row of cheap bars with idiotic bar names, such as Fish Lips, one that particularly fired up the locals in their late night rants, all made up to sell tee shirts and make the tourists giggle while they sipped frozen drinks on the deck watching the river flow by as it had for a thousand years. …


Thomas Plummer

A simple life dedicated to leaving the world a little better than I found it. Long career in the business of fitness, writer of books, speaker, personal coach.

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