Circular Swirl


Boulder_Roller

(Click to Enlarge)

What’s the rush ?
Always spinning
trying to fit the circular swirl into the square pegs

Going no where
like Sisyphus rolling boulders uphill only to roll back down and repeat over and again

I’m Cynthia Biotch !

Grandma !!!!!

No deceit here
Where ever you’re going it will still be there and
it might even be better

So take your Time

Slow down
Stop your whine
Sit on your rock

Be ready for new things (Always)

© Cynthia Martz 2013
8/24/13

A Change of Mindset

The most important step is a realization that life is better when you move at a slower, more relaxed pace, instead of hurrying and rushing and trying to cram too much into every day. Instead, get the most out of every moment.

Go with the flow.

What is going with the flow? It’s rolling with the punches. It’s accepting change without getting angry or frustrated. It’s taking what life gives you, rather than trying to mold life to be exactly as you want it to be.

“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” ~Lao Tzu

Phoenix Awakened


Big_Phoenix_BG

Click to Enlarge

It’s a beautiful day in the Keys

Almost May

I’m not wasting my brain
Thinking about You

Mundane Things

Phone numbers changed

It’s taken me some time
To delete you from my mind

There’s No Recycle on my horizon
No more forgiveness in my heart for you

The Drama in my journey is over

The Phoenix Awakened

© Cynthia Martz 2013

https://myspace.com/gypsy/music/song/the-phoenix-26863546-26664731

Listen to the PHOENIX song

Dance like nobody’s watching;
Love like you’ve never been hurt.
Sing like nobody’s listening
Live like it’s heaven on earth.

         ~Mark Twain~

Inner Silence


blue_eye

I pretty much am of the age where I can actually say “Been there, done that” and with much glee do not mind the “nightmare”

Time 2:45 AM

Someone just smiled for no special reason
It looks like the smile’s come back into season
It’s so easy, doesn’t have to be a nice day
Just the only one you’ve got and it’s coming ready or not

Ready or Not Smile

yard_tree

Misty Morning

Copyright ©2013 Cynthia Martz (Click for larger Picture)

A path was taken
it made me smile
It awakened me
aroused something in me
but…
I see no flowers blooming,
I feel no sand between my toes

Not even a “H A Y”
How are you?

A fine mist that appeared and as quickly disappeared
Mere seconds in the complexity of time

No more anger in my heart
broken windows
slashed tires
harsh words
they are past
many years ago

I am alive with LIFE
I am a butterfly
Transformed
Changing as I go…

New ones will seek my flame
burning brightly
I am not a caterpillar in a cocoon
I am free

At This stage in my life
I Know where I stand
what I need
as always~

to be
just me

Onward We Go


wolfpack

 

For the strength of the pack is the wolf
And the strength of the wolf is the pack
~Rudyard Kipling~

The Hopi Poem

THIS IS THE HOUR…

You have been telling people that this is the eleventh hour. Now you must go back and tell people, this is the hour!

And there are things to be considered Where are you living?
what are you doing?
what are your relationships?

are you in right relation? Where is your water?
Know your garden
It is time to speak your truth Create your community

Be good to yourself

Do not look outside for a leader
This could be a great time!

There is a river flowing very fast
It is so great and fast that that there are those who will be afraid They will hold on to the shore

They will feel as if they are being torn apart and they will suffer greatly

Know that the river has its destination. The Elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open

and our heads above the water.

See who is in there with you and celebrate

Gather yourselves. Banish the word ‘struggle’ from your vocabulary

All that we do now must be done in sacred manner and celebration

At this time, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves

For the moment we do our spiritual growth comes to a halt. The time of the lone wolf is over.

We are the ones that we have been waiting for.

~The Elders, Oraibi, Hopi Nation.

Source:

Water Signs

Manufactured Melancholy


going_south_rock

Persons may think I am bored, not boring mind you…I am far from it.
I have my amazing thoughts, memories and creativeness whirling in my brain

I have had the fever and furious lovemaking, the lies, the betrayal, complicated maze

Nights of undeniable bliss

I have witnessed many a azure sky with winking stars and mysterious neighboring mists

In too many cities wandering and erratic in-between the twilight shadows

My journals speak of days and nights
sometimes blended as one
Kaleidoscopic pictures of the Maze in fragmentary facts

Raised on religious rhetoric
Isolated and Detached
Waiting for a END that never came
Disillusioned youth, fractured family

I have no interest in babbling gossip
He said, she said, they said, who cares
But seriously speaking, what is the use of it?

Ex friends that remind me of sandpaper
with there critical judgment, vigorous invective

They rub the wrong way
No time for the maddening monotony

© Cynthia Martz

by Cynthia Martz
9/30/2011

Tin Roof


Tin Roof 4 16 02

This is the house I became a teenager in. I think I was around six when my grandparents said we could live in it. It had four rooms. No indoor plumbing. Water was drawn daily from a cool spring well.

I loved it when it rained. The tin roof seemed to be magickal with the rain falling on it.

I designed this today.

Rain on Tin Roof

From my website zimbabast

My Poetry

and a few from

Poetry From my WordPress

blackandwhitebottleinklifepenwords.jpg

Thoughts in Reverse


I made this a while back…favorite clips from others, my creations in picture form. Music by Llewellyn
I have several old acquaintances that had blogs that I still go back and ponder over. No new posts since 2010. Perhaps they moved on or no longer occupy this space and time here in Key West.

Mad Jack

He lived on Love Lane in this house.

madjack

A lady lived there off and on that burned sage and played a flute. Lots of cats, roosters and baby chicks.

What an entertaining controversial old man.

So, reading through their posts I thought what a unique way to blog.

Here is my go at it.

Another beautiful day in the land of the palms.

The sun is high and hot, the AC hums constant

My bike sits in the corner with a tire that is need of air

A ride in the evening coolness invites me

Quests last night had my mind whirling

Random thoughts on barriers and overcoming obstacles along life’s highway and byways

Unending innuendoes of coming elections and mayhem

Corrupt little minds

While innocents sit and wait

Waterfalls and mellow music

Cats napping, birds perching and elusive dreams gone with the morning sun

Long distant calls from relatives rarely seen

Keeping the connections alive somehow

Road construction causing turmoil and confusion

Hurricane Season

More and more businesses closing

Rents too high and pay to low

Farmers can’t feed their livestock

Selling out

Where’s the Beef, will take on an entirely new meaning

Light a Fatty, pop a Stella Artois

Ramble on in my hammock

Watching the clouds roll by on an endless day

Love_Lane

By the Window she Waits

Story Between Two People


Preguntas Hermosas  (Beautiful Questions) is a story about a time that was shared between two people. It is told through a combination of Poema X  by Pablo Neruda and Under the Harvest Moon by Carl Sandburg.  It unfolds in three parts; a fond remembrance, loss, and then finally acceptance.

“Poema  X ” of Pablo Neruda in English Translation:

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest lines tonight.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this I held my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the sky infinity.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

I not have loved her great still eyes I can write the saddest lines tonight.

Think that I have not.

To feel that I lost.

Hear the immense night, more immense without her.

And the verse falls to the soul as dew to grass. does it matter that my love could not keep!

The night is starry and she is not me.

That is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is lost without her. As though to my eyes search.

My heart looks and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.

We, then, no longer we are the same.

I did not love her, true, but how I loved ..

My voice searched the wind to touch her hearing. the other.

Be of another.

As before my kisses. Her voice, her bright body.Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short and forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this I held my arms, my soul is lost without her .

Although this is the last pain she causes me, and these the last verses that I write.

“Under The Harvest Moon” of Carl Sandburg

 UNDER the harvest moon,
When the soft silver
Drips shimmering
Over the garden nights,
Death, the gray mocker,
Comes and whispers to you
As a beautiful friend
Who remembers.

Under the summer roses

When the flagrant crimson

Lurks in the dusk
Of the wild red leaves,
Love, with little hands,
Comes and touches you
With a thousand memories,
And asks you
Beautiful, unanswerable questions.

Please Hear What I Am Not Saying


Please Hear is the amazing story of a poem's impact not only across this country, but around the world since it was written in 1966.  It is all about how hearts grow wings!  137 pages.  $15 includes book rate shipping.

Please Hear is the amazing story of a poem's impact not only across this country, but around the world since it was written in 1966. It is all about how hearts grow wings! 137 pages. $15 includes book rate shipping.

Please Hear What I Am Not Saying.

Coming full circle so too speak is a blessing. The poem is remarkable and yes it touches and will continue to touch lives throughout time I suppose.

How did you hear about “Please Hear What I Am Not Saying” and when?

I was living in Salt Lake City, Utah.The year 1980. It was given too me on a worn piece of paper,the author unknown.
A poem from a friend that committed suicide.

I miss her.
R.I.P Kat