No Matter What You Do

Someone won’t like you.
Someone will spread lies.
Someone will be jealous.
Someone won’t understand.
Someone will block you.
Someone will wait and see.
Someone will find you wanting. Continue reading “No Matter What You Do”

ode to today

the sky is grey

the sky is blue

there is you

i can see

i can’t see

it is today

never  yesterday Continue reading “ode to today”

Poetry for Today

today, like every day
it’s time for a new poem
at listen & be heard poetry cafe
a poem for the poem of the day

poetry that speaks to you
about where you come from
where you yearn to go
growing pains of the heart
Continue reading “Poetry for Today”

Fruits and Radicals

Green Bell Pepper in the Garden, by Martha Cinader Mims, for the Poem of the Day. copyright 2008 all rights reserved.

a non-peppery pepper
that’s not really a pepper
a misleading misnomer
of columbus courting the queen’s Continue reading “Fruits and Radicals”

fresh bread

still warm
and steamy
with butter
with honey
with grape jelly
with cheese Continue reading “fresh bread”

ode to insurance companies

oh the vanity
of those of us
who think we can hold on Continue reading “ode to insurance companies”

Memory and Perception

what i remember

is my perception
of what was
happening
and what happened
before what was
happening
and what happened Continue reading “Memory and Perception”

A Mother of a Day

is a Different thing
from Mother’s Day.
The Name
“Mother” of a Day
speaks for itself too Continue reading “A Mother of a Day”

Once Upon a Time

There was a woman who dared to speak truth in the face of death. The truth as she knew it. For she knew that she did not, could not know Truth entirely.

In fact she knew that even two seemingly contradictory stories could both be true to the tellers of each side, and both could even be absolutely true.

The Absolute covers Everything. She knew that too. So the Absolute Truth must be the sum and total of every truth. There’s even a bit of truth in the best lies.

She didn’t know all this because she held a degree for knowing the truth. She had heard every story. She had been told every lie and she believed.

She listened to each story and cried and laughed and shouted at each twist and turn in the plot as if each story were her own unfolding drama.

She believed each lie until she steadfastly uncovered each truth. Even though she did not think that she had set out on a journey to find truth.

It became her destiny to seek out the Truth that lies waiting. She claimed every story, every lie and all that she witnessed with her eyes.

She hoarded each like a gem, gathered all together in a treasure chest of the human heart. Her art to rearrange, retell and tell

the Truth in a made up story. Made up of tough stuff, reality that bites with an appetite for feeding
the need of the present moment.

The present need always being the same, no matter what the current truth, the need for action, creation, telling your part of The Story.

Please join me at the cafe this Saturday, February 16, 2008 from 2:30-4pm,
for a storytelling circle for people of all ages. Tell a story, or just listen.

Wishing you Peace and Poetry
martha cinader mims


Strike Writers

Used to be the poet
was the clown
got struck down
when the king’s laugh
turned to a frown
on truth masked in
rhythm, rhyme
and hints of the sublime.

Now everyone wants
a piece of the action
automated reaction
in post hallucinogenic
times the rhymes
come via Madison Avenue
reworked to push your panic button
encourage your inner glutton.

Your future is what you write
to defend with your life the right
to be who you are and say
what needs to be said
when it needs saying
paying the price
for being a poet
knowing it in a place

where there is no money
but truth is sweet like honey.

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