Only Known Video of Khalil Gibran

I prefer to be a dreamer among the humblest, with visions to be realized, than lord among those without dreams and desires. ~ Khalil Gibran
Gibran Memorial in Washington D.C.
Many great writers serve as my muse, but only one is my Master.  He is Khalil Gibran (also spelled Kahlil).  From the very moment I was introduced to his work, I was lost in the words… filled with inspiration… hungry (more. . .)

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Extraordinary Poetry: Rickster Leahy

April 2010 was National Poetry Month.  Well, those who know Natalina are well aware that she likes to be fashionably late… (read: procrastination).   However, as one who dabbles a bit in poetry and prose, I have a keen appreciation for a talented writer.  Further, I am overjoyed when I come upon a writer with the level of talent that I am about to share with you all.
Rickster Leahy lives (more. . .)

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Lost

Here I am
In a boat
In a storm.
I’ve lost control of my boat,
My life.
Do I see death,
Or is it a vision
Of new life?

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Dog

I wish I could control these thoughts,
Mere thoughts,
Like a dog on a leash or clay in my hands.
But I cannot control them
As you cannot control the weather,
And I am left in the storm
Without an umbrella.
You lost it and never told me.
I had no time to replace it.
I cannot control what you remember
Or how you feel.
You left me here naked, (more. . .)

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The Love We Once Had

The love we once had
Is now a memory
The love in his eyes
I can no longer see
He is now someone else’s happiness
He makes her spirit sing
And gives to her pleasures
That to me he would once bring
I will always wonder
How did our love die?
I suppose I never will know
All the reasons why

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The Love that You Give

I used to associate being old with having lived
And dying young meant never having the chance
Now I have seen the old die
With more regret than satisfaction
And the young die so suddenly
But having done so much
I wonder which is the better way to go
If there is such a thing as the better way
Looking at you, your frail frame and lined face
I feel (more. . .)

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Writer

Writer, who are you?
Insignificant piece of dust
Everyone wants to be someone
Who are the special few?
Your dreams are just like
Everyone else’s
Everyone who had enough
Sense to dream
Like everyone else who had
Enough sense to realize
That things just couldn’t, wouldn’t
Turn out exactly the way you
Expected them to.

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