Health and Fitness

Lament For Lady Beth and Terza Rima

Terza rima is a rhyming verse stanza form that consists of an interlocking three line rhyme scheme. It was first used by the Italian poet Dante Alighieri. Most recently, it was used by Jonas Hyde in his epic release, Lament for Lady Beth. Terza rima is a three-line stanza using chain rhyme in the pattern a-b-a, b-c-b, c-d-c, d-e-d. There is no limit to the number of lines, but poems or sections of poems written in terza rima end with either a single line or couplet repeating the rhyme of the middle line of the final tercet. The two possible endings for the example above are d-e-d, e or d-e-d, e-e. In Lament for Lady Beth, Hyde uses the form of a-b-a-b-c-b-c-d-c-d-d. The first known use of terza rima is in Dante's Divina Commedia. In creating the form, Dante may have been influenced by the sirventes, a lyric form used by the Provencal troubadours. The three-line pattern may have been intended to suggest the Holy Trinity. After Dante, other Italian poets, including Petrarch and Boccaccio, used the form.

Help is on the Way

Rumbles of a dangerous time. Crumbles deep within your mind. One more time, you cannot stand. Reach out my friend and take His hand. Listen close, and hear His voice. It only takes a simple choice. It only takes a minute friend. I tell you truth... it's not pretend. When buildings fall; when thoughts collapse. It seems so dark... well yes, perhaps. Do not give up; too sit or stay! Believe that help is on the way! You fear to fail, or maybe so. You feel you have no where to go. Do not resist a minute more. His knock is heard upon your door. Mistakes are made, and now it's lost. You know you cannot pay the cost. There's nothing friend, He cannot pay. Expect today; helps on the way. Hopeless seems; fearful streams. A forest of regret. With Him fulfill your greatest dreams! Move your mountains yet! No time to ponder in your past. No time to love, what will not last. Prepare for purpose; renew your mind! In only Him, for this you find! When they say no, and He says yes.

Poetry Writing - Let Your Unconscious Mind Help

A good way to get a powerful emotional response from people is through poetry. In order to write poetry, you need to be able to connect with your readers and offer them images and ideals that have meaning for them. Here is a powerful technique that you can use to write good poetry easily and effortlessly. Use the following techniques to empower your imagination, connect with your readers and present your ideals in an effective way. 1. Determine a premise or concept you wish to explore. 2. Brainstorm similar and unsimiliar ideals 3. Connect with your targeted audience. 4. Turn over to your unconscious mind. 5. Take a break 6. Write your poem. Finding a premise is the easiest part of poetry writing. In order to do this, just decide what you want people to learn or understand. If you want them to see love in a new way, or to face the harsh concepts of war or look deep within to improve themselves... you need only to decide on a concept that will accomplish that goal. Next, you need to brainstorm that concept in order to get an organized sense of what you want to say.

God's Preparing You For Greater Things

Suicide is never the answer to heartache or depression. Only God knows your pain and can help you through it. I've been there and know how hard it can be, but I've learned that each minute and each day you hold on, you are closer to a blessing. I'm sorry if they failed you and didn't let you know, how much that you are needed and there's not need for you to go. I beg from you one more chance to tell you of God's grace. I pray that you will listen and let me tell it to your face. No one has the right to judge you, let alone to criticize, because God made you as He did them, and you're both worthy in His eyes. There's nothing you could do or say that would change God's love for you. You see, His love is unconditional and His words are always true. Although you may not feel it, please believe what's in your heart. There's a God who'll always love you and you've never been apart. Now live the life He gave you. Keep the faith and soon you'll see - this life is just the beginning of the road to eternity.

Those Waiting Eyes and Other Poems

The first poem came into my mind when I was going through a meadow in a car and on my way passed a small house with a front porch. See, how small a thing can produce eloquence! Those waiting eyes The wait of rain has been soaked in meadows. The warmth of a fragile hand is still on The support of the porch. A pair of eyes, Tired and looking beyond, now is not there. These paths has not always let men reach their Chosen destination. The open sun Is making the earth golden-green. Days pass. In nights the waiting eyes light out like a Magic lantern. Waiting keeps age at bay. Paths send the men awry to some frozen World of reverse-wait, flying ash and dusk. The warmth of the hand lingers through the circle Of life and death, of tides and ebbs. Time flies. Moments Cries of thousand crickets and single soul, The island harks them all in a rhythm Of their own. The obscure bell at temple Fogged by the past of light and bowing heads, Suddenly rings in a gush of drear wind. Water moves in and out it goes bearing The feet-marks of a lost play on the sand.

House Into Poetry

What is the "house" we live in? Is it a combination of walls and roofs? I think it has a soul. It asks for love and languishment. Above all it can be a subject of poetry. House... 1 Four walls lift it on their shoulder. Sounds of rain dropping on it was the music My childhood likes most. A kite is dangling from its corner. Roof looks at its brilliant colors. I know that it would like to have a flight with it. House... 2 Run through the corridor and stumble. The dark red of bruise, Mother has gone to market And you will not tell father. Is it true that rebuke is painful Even more than a bruise? Deliverance The shadow of the winged creature Upon the arid-gold meadows... The shades of the trees have shortened, The high-lighted flowers on earth Uplift their faces asking some Abstract deliverance. Mid-noon. Watch these deeply, raptly and Soak these through pours of the body. Be intoxicated in them. Mid-noon, buzzing in silent mode Provides us with deliverance. Bedroom The world has sent him early to his bed The doors kept ajar partly disclose truths.

Poems of Inspiration and Hope

A Mind of Beauty I could only see what was to be The dawning of a new day Birds flying through the air Chirping rhythmically along the way Blooms of all fragrances Colored my every step Even old memories make me smile Through some though, I have wept I find adversity around every corner It makes me stronger every day Can you not see me dancing Along my lonely way I seek nothing other than Inspiration in various forms To have and to want Are just part of lifes storms My umbrella of love Will protect me from the wet and cold For I have many years left Before I grow old Copyright 2008 Teresa Harr-Pena A Personal War Her arms shake as she lifts Shredded white cloth Strained by the burden She carries on her back Only to realize Surrendering for greed Is better than giving in To fear forever A single tear hovers Her strength to fight Is dwindling with each Step forward towards A line that carries Penalties to which She must face Her limbs Bruised and bleeding From running afar A stained path Guides the enemy For an artless retrieval At a volitional stance She begs not For nourishment Though her heart remains Useless and empty His tears dress her wounds Covering her chest With the flag She used to wear Cradling her body They sleep Awakening to A war that has ended Copyright 2008 Teresa Harr-Pena Never Alone As I sit and ponder A million miles I may wonder Yet here I sit All by myself I think of who's where Does anyone really care No one to talk to As I sit in solitude For endless miles Searching for smiles From another person Who sits alone So, here we are Looking at each other from afar You on your way Me on mine Waving to each other For we are never alone.

Career Transformation Coach When You Need A Cheerleader And Breakthrough!

Job hunting Has become to me A full time job Never ending My qualifications Always referencing My past accomplishments My endless education My work experience My professional acquaintance With key people in the work place God Almighty give me some grace To remain hopeful and continue pursuing Meaningful employment without complaining Because I get rejected because of my skin color, My age, my looks, my limitations, lack of conformity My authenticity, humanity, and bold individuality Shall I cease being a human and just be a conformist Sell my soul for money and do whatever comes along Or believe for the best, be selective, and stand strong? Yes, I have to pay the bills and can't be a ding dong For one who doesn't care for his own family is an infidel Or even worse according to the Bible, but help me God I'm drowning in applications and this employment process Arise and give me a breakthrough loving heavenly Father For your Name sake answer my prayer and don't delay For years of tireless job hunting has left me most weary As king David in distress prayed, "Send now prosperity" Enough of my dire poverty, inconsistency, and calamity Bring on the blessings God and use my talents and ability To glorify thee and build your people and kingdom in the earth Bring forth in me professionally and occupationally a new birth.

Stubborn As A Mule - Don't Talk To Me, Leave Me Be

Stubborn as a mule Don't talk to me Leave me be In my simplicity Or perhaps stupidity I know everything I feel I need no one. I'm stubborn as a mule, I can't lie it's not fun. Nevertheless please let me Enjoy my agony privately. Otherwise you will regretfully Get a taste of my irritability Undoubtedly my everything That amounts to nothing In your judgmental mind But everything in mine I'm full of a life of pain From my childhood To this loathsome day My trials and tribulations Keep getting in my way Never allowing me to fully enjoy Nor experience this wonderful life Family and friends drama and strife Gets me heavy and deeply down Circumstances beyond my control Have repeatedly come and stole My happiness and tenderness My childlike heart and eagerness To arise and take on the world My heart wounded within froward With this life sadly I'm now bored Bitter, puzzled, and inwardly broken My joy within has been stolen and taken I know not how to get my inner life back I feel as if I'm under a Satanic attack Increasingly overwhelmed and overcome I wish to fly away, but have nowhere to run The problems to continually arise and come To my door, to my core, making me unsure I guess I need to arise mightily and fight Be a courageous man of God, salt and light Obtain heavenly vision and a new perspective Stop crying, kicking, bawling, and squalling Life's troubles are by no means an elective They suddenly come to and burden us all Yet in these moments we must stand tall Certainly we cannot simply curse them all Nevertheless doing so does not remove them I know you like me have probably tried cursing But I've got a better way to begin reversing The cycle of defeat and get you moving in victory It's called living in the Spirit with God Almighty Implementing His divine principles in your daily life Uprooting bad defeating attitudes and turbulent strife As you renew within, you shall gloriously alter your life As you use those two ears God gave you and listen Your within will awaken and your divine destiny hasten To show itself, come forth, and blossom like a flower My friend, anguish in agony no more for this is your hour!

Old Mrs Stanley a Poem Out Of The Early '60s

She sits on her porch and knits in the mornings, bending at the windowsill, with those old, old waxed fingers, you can almost see those old perturbing veins from where I stand, she's just smiling away-looking up and down Cayuga Street, checking out the boys and girls, the gang: my old neighbor, and widow, at ninety-three, Mrs. Stanley. When noon comes around, she'll switch windows, pull back the curtain, in the kitchen, spoon in her soup; check out the birds in her birdbath, splashing water all about, she bought it after her husband passed on, perhaps from boredom. She doesn't care if I'm looking over the fence, to see her looking back, I'm just a teenagers, wet behind the ears, a neighborhood fact, a dupe. In the evenings, in summer, she'll pull weeds from her backyard garden, a few vegetables will grow back there; not much to speak of, carrots and cucumbers. I think, or so it seeps up from deep within my head, "Doesn't she have anything else to do?" I'm being really kind of cruel, she knows this from my looks.

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