Charmed Chaos
Musings on Life, Love, and Linguine-Poetry & Writing
Succumb
Kerry O’Connor
@skyloverpoetry
Death- I will not float into your arms just yet
although I know there is a vastness to explore
brilliant sea- green depths in which to plunge
And yes! Though you entice me with your calm,
I still want the uncertainty of a breathless life.
I want to cry oceans of salty tears, to weep, to release
I want my fragile heart to break from loving too much,
I want to bask in the red-hot heat of the burning sun,
I want to bathe in the cold ice-blue moon shining down
as an explosion of twinkling stars cut me
into prisms of radiant colors of forever.
And then only then Death, will I succumb.
©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: I had a health scare last Wednesday with my heart. I see a cardiologist this Thursday, so death has been on my mind lately.
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Art Flash/55 in December
Poets United: Pantry of Poetry and Prose #7
Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years, and her dog, Ricky Bobby. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com
and purchase anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page
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Angels on a Misty Shore
She walks with angels on a misty shore.
The morning is damp and cold, but she does not feel it.
As the frost smoke rises over the glassy lake, she stops, reflecting.
At that moment, a magnificent large mouth bass escapes the water,
breaking the silence.
Its powerful leap sends echoing waves to the lake’s sandy edge.
As they lap, lap, lap and caress her bare feet, she looks at the angels,
her eyes aglow with a far off memory.
“I caught the biggest fish of my life right here. “
They laugh, “We know. Your joy soared all the way to heaven.
God walked around with the biggest smile on his face all day long.”
Mother dear, now gone
you were my port,
my shelter in life’s storm.
At times, I stumble and fall
and there you are
cradling me again in your sweet arms.
Copyright©2017
Linda Lee Lyberg
Author’s Note: Reposting this in honor of my Mother. Today would have been her 91st birthday.
Happy birthday Mom. I hope there are fishing poles and lakes
in heaven and you are teaching the angels how to set a hook!
Splendor in Sepia
America’s first female photojournalist
c. 1904
Making sense of black and white when we fall into the grey
Understanding where lines lie in this dramatic play
Looking through the camera lens with crystal clarity
Creating a somber mood with a stark disparity
Trying to capture what is real not how they wish to be seen
skillful eye looks beyond outer skin, peers into a soul deep
And in the light of the false, a flash takes her aback
and there in sepia -toned splendor with a startled shock
is the real she, peering back at me
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Oh Winds Of Change
Oh winds of change why must you blow
and come roaring in like a hurricane
blowing my comfortable life to and fro
left in your wake, everything’s changed
And yet, the unknown is always there
or so say the stoics of centuries past
for comfort is but an illusion we wear
and life is never meant to endure or last
So Blow, changing winds Blow, Blow, Blow!
And in the end my weathered soul soars free
to explore other cosmos never known
floating on a breeze with gossamer wings
©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg
dVerse Poets Pub: MTB O Apostrophe!
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Music in D(eath) for Lost Souls
He plays the music calling lost souls who wander from life to life
These pitiful beings who can never seem to get living quite right
They return to earth over and over, to learn what they didn’t before
Traveling treacherous seven seas, searching the windswept shores
For though they’ve had many lives, they’ve never grown beyond
Those early un-lived ones and the questions they have spawned
As they hear the haunting music, to maestro they beg and plead
to help them find their other half to live as one through eternity
But what these pitiful tortured souls will never understand
Is that their hidden future lies in the palm of their own hand
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years, and her dog, Ricky Bobby. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com
and purchase anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page
I Am Water
I
am water
I am a mountain stream flowing
fresh and cold, clear and bright smoothing
stone edges, into a mosaic of painted hues adorned
by moments of my heart breaking and learning the inner
truth of my purpose to write until my bony fingers ache, to love with
every thread of my tattered soul. I am water, I am woman, I am a poet,
a dreamer, magic abounding in the most unlikely of places, a stranger’s
smile, the bloom of a rose, the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings.
Miracles, a painted dawn morning, a stormy sky
a dragonfly, a bird that sings, me.
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years, and her dog, Ricky Bobby. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at: charmedchaos.com
and purchase anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page
Breathless
“I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.”― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights
In these dreams, I write in colors I’ve always known
for in my very breath flows shades of indigo
that at times catch, leaving me breathless
searching, always searching for more.
Born in fall’s waiting air, trees dressed in leaves
of scarlet and gamboge I entered the world
with barely a cry, such a solemn child
searching, searching for an eternal home.
And in her sweet eyes I peered,
seeing my own odd reflection
naught but a new helpless babe
with a shock of burnished red-golden
fine hair, nary a thought or care
of how I came to be there,
drowning in her indigo eyes
searching for home nevermore.
©2021 Linda Lee Lyberg
dVerse Poetics: Less is More, More or Less
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Words to Live By
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