On purpose

On Purpose

Walk with purpose

Wander with grace

Skip with fervor

everything in celebration

one day at a time.

Nice

The word I chose for this poem was Nice.  For an explanation of what these posts are about, check out the first one here.  This certainly isn't brilliant, just my morning thoughts. They are written without judgement. They are written to loosen up my brain in the morning.

NICE

Be nice.

play nice.

isn't she nice?

isn't she pleasant?

i don't want to be described as nice.

Nice is for strangers.

If I am "nice", you don't know me.

Call me crazy,

call me opinionated, quiet, passionate.

call me confusing, eccentric, spunky.

call me anything but nice.

The sun doesn't shine to be nice.

The full moon on a clear night isn't nice,

it's wild, made to howl.

The ocean doesn't send its waves to be nice.

It shakes you to your core.

You can save your nice,

let's not make pleasantries.

we've lived too much for that.

tell me your battles.

let's explore the moon.

scream til we're hoarse,

laugh until we're dry.

let's not play nice.

let's play loud.

Next

I'm still in my poem phase.  Picked another word from my morning pages to write about.  For more information on this writing exercise, check out this post.  Here's my latest poem from my week of Morning Pages.

Next

Around the corner

over the hump

after this bend

it'll be next.

Next is the needy one

the question-maker

the bored.

Next likes plans and checklists

watches and alarms.

Next remains on its toes.

Anxiety-ridden worrier.

Next pretends to not know Now.

Now is the rebel,

the eye of the storm.

Now won't beg for your attention,

time is too precious.

Now is your center, your breath.

Now is the gentle tear in your eye

that burst of laughter from your gut.

Now doesn't rush, it makes every second count

for those willing to take the ride.