30 December 2014

Mother's Lament

Mother’s Lament

Once upon a time, I lay a-bed and slept.
I slept and slept till could sleep no more… 
Slept till wakened by my lover’s kiss.
To sleep, per chance to dream…
Sleep, glorious sleep, sleep, sleep!
Sleep deprived, to old to nap… 
Oh to revel and lie a bed!
To sleep till slept enough!
To roll over and sleep some more…

Just… just because I can!

Sigh. To sleep through the night…
Not be woken by patter of feet…
Clonk and jangle of the door’s rattle!
To wake to the day’s bright sun…
Oh to sleep past the dayspring…
To lie a bed till well past dawn!
Once, I dreamed of glory and fame.
I dreamt of being a great success.
Dreams of fabulous wealth danced in my head…
Of heroic deeds and wild acclaim.

Now ‘ere night falls, I close my eyes…

And pray and dream… of  SLEEP!

26 December 2014

Shariara's Lament

Lyrics sung by a lonely soul along the shore of a stormy sea…

I lift my eyes to see you
Your smile once shone on me
We danced a while as one heart
Now I dance alone

The dance plays on
and alone I weep
for a promise lost
in fading memories
You sailed away
on a stormy day
And sank beneath the briny sea

I lift my eyes to see you
Your smile once shone on me
We danced a while as one heart
Now I dance alone

So now I wait
for your shade’s return
I stalk this shore
dancing here for you
With your faithful hound
trailing by my side
I embrace the foamy brine alone

I lift my eyes to see you
Your smile once shone on me
We danced a while as one heart
Now I dance alone

I composed the lyrics and the tune. I also provided the vocals and the sound mix. The above drawing is also by me.

by D. Denise Dianaty
@ 10 October 2014

Pick up your own copy of my first book of poetry at My Life In Poetry

17 December 2014

Shadows of Christmas

Advent is our Hope against the darkness,
Living into the expectation of Christ.
Who is the Light born to dispel shadows
From the hearts of the People of Advent.

At the center of His holy Nativity are
Shadows of pasts, Crucifixion, and Ascension
In dark of night, from the dark of the stable
Emmanuel, the Light was born at Christmas.

In the shadows of all our Christmases
We see shadows of the past behind us,
And live the present in the shadows of Hope.
In shadows of Hope, look to an eternal future.

08 December 2014

Jeremiah 29:11-14 -- A poem

NIV Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 12 Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you," declares the LORD

Jeremiah 29:11-14

I’ve been stretched out
Broken on the rack of life
Had the pieces picked up
And put together again
Only to be wrecked once more

I’ve watched my dreams shatter
Seen them ground away
Become sand on the endless shore
Windswept and lonely in the storm
Where broken yesterdays fall

I thought all those yesterdays
Would be my only ever futures
Repeating… repeating… repeating pain
Fire raining ‘pon my dreams 
As I danced on the edge of a volcano

’Til at last the sandy shore
Brought me to this protected harbor
Where the storms cannot batter me
And I have learned that the fires
Are the forge that has made me

I look back ‘pon those yesterdays
Now I know they were creating
A space of endless gratitude
For the joys of my now… my future
I see Your mighty plan writ in the past

I know the promise fulfilled 
Of Your great work for me… for us
I know now You heard my every cry
And used the fires to Your purpose 
To give me hope and to prosper

“And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history – money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery – the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.” –C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

“I sought to hear the voice of God and climbed the topmost steeple, but God declared: ‘Go down again - I dwell among the people.'” -- John Henry Newman

D. Denise Dianaty
© 04 September 2014

Pick up your own copy of my first book of poetry, entitled My Life In Poetry at D. Denise Dianaty

04 December 2014

Empty Soul

An introduction to Greedy-Greedy…

Empty Soul
Plagiarism is the enslavement of someone else's genius.

Greedy Greedy, riddle me this…
Rhyme me a rhyme from the black abyss
You bought it all and you’ll buy more.
There’s never enough ‘cause there’s nothin’ in you.
You’ll take and buy and steal and grasp,
Your greedy, grasping heart never satisfied.
No price, no fame, no infamy, nor glory gained
For you, Greedy Greedy, is never enough.

More and more and more and more
Sucked down into the black abyss…
Used up, discarded and never mourned…
“Cause more and more and more and more 
Is just… can never ever be enough.
Empty hands and empty heart…
And empty life brings empty soul, 
And soulless life gives no gifts.

The soulless stealing another's gifts
Gifts they lack because
They've emptied their souls
In hot pursuit of greed…
Inspiration… just another empty, empty thing…
A thing that can’t be bought by you.
So, Greedy Greedy, you steal it,
You claim it, you take it as your own.

You never give… you only take,
Wondering why… why your life…
Your empty life turned out this way.
Greedy Greedy, you think you have it all,
And have the right to ever and ever more,
Never understanding that all you take,
Draining you out, makes you
Ever and ever more an empty soul.

02 December 2014

When I'm Gone…

We all know how short is Life. Some of us know ours will be shorter still. I have often felt that my life will not be long like those who came before me. My Gran lived to 90 and her mother lived to 89. A great, great grandmother (I think on my Gran's father's side) lived to 104. Frankly, I'm surprised to still be here at 51. I didn't try very hard to get here, that's certain. I never felt I had a reason to get here before I met my husband and we had our son. Now, I have so much to live for. But, I don't fret that I still feel I have little time left to me. I'm thankful every morning for another day… another day of seeing my son grow and become the wonderful person I can already see in him. 

I make now,
to all who know me, 
a request 
to remember me 
not with great, snot-gobbery tears, 
blobbing down emptily 
to dry and be forgotten. 

Celebrate me 

when I've passed. 
All I ask 
is that when I'm gone, 
in my name, 
please spend just one day… 
One day a year…
It's not too much to ask…

Spend a day

And think of my heart
Honor me
in some simple way
to make your corner of this world
A better place for others,
by service to those in need. 

Volunteer in a shelter. Lend your strength to a worthy cause, like Habitat for Humanity. Or spend a day helping feed the hungry and/or homeless. Spend a day volunteering in a nursing home. Do something like that in my name and that will be, to me, the best way I could ever be remembered.

Why Do We Give Presents at Christmas?

Why do we give Christmas presents? Is there a point… a deeper meaning to our gift giving? Shouldn't there be?

I don't know if it was always the case, but I find I love the experience of giving. I love picking just the right gift, that, to me, seems to be the perfect something that person would love. I often give gifts I would personally never want, but am convinced the recipient will love. (I wish I could say the same of gifts I've received; but I digress.) I want my son to know that feeling too and hope I’ve done the right things to teach him how to give.

How do we and why should we give? 
We should give selflessly. Gifts should always be about the recipient and never the giver. You simply don’t give gifts expecting something of equal value in return. I think it’s okay to expect equal sentiment, though. Don’t give someone what you’d like to receive; that’s just plain self-centered. And, it’s the height of egoism to presume that because you’d love to have it, so would anyone else. This is a wide and varied world and it’s our differences that paint the truest wonders of this existence — how very dull life would be if everyone had the identical tastes in everything. 

Santa is a lesson is selfless giving — gifts given in generosity and anonymity for all the years of our childhood. Through the magic of Santa we may learn to give selflessly and generously, with no immediate hope of gratitude or accolades. But, why do we give gifts? Why do we continue to uphold the magic of Santa in memory of a bishop who lived so very long ago in a place so far away? 

I uphold the ideal of Santa because St. Nicholas gave selflessly in honor of Christ. Christ is the point. We give gifts in remembrance of the Gifts of the Magi to the infant Christ. And, we give gifts in honor of the great Gift of Christ, our Lord Emmanuel to all the world… we offer gifts to honor the birth of a homeless, Middle Eastern refugee baby, born in a most humble estate…we give to honor the birth of the Gift of Salvation. 

As parents… as Christians… let us not forget to impart the reason, the foundation of our sacred Christmas. Let us remember why the season seems to engender so much of our better natures as human beings. Further, please, don’t forget that the gift of our time, our hospitality, and service to those in need are greater and more necessary gifts than all the worldly trinkets we might purchase. 

Pick up your own copy of my first book of poetry at My Life In Poetry

09 September 2014

Angel of the Moment

I’m crossing the peak… 
starting the downslope of life… 
From this lofty perspective, 
      I can see the years and experiences…
          …trailing out behind me. 
In those misty reaches, 
      I do see the black depths 
          …of human corruption.

          Sweet Lord in Heaven… 
I see so much more! 
      I KNOW 
          …the world is peopled with angels. 
      I KNOW 
          …most people are good and want only to be whole.
      I KNOW 
          …that everyone and anyone is capable…
          …capable of being an angel of the moment. 

That’s my experience. 
And, it gives me hope for the future… 
          …for my son… 
                    …for all our children.

To someone… 
          …to anyone who crosses your path…

                    …be an angel of the moment.

by D. Denise Dianaty
© 09 September 2014

Pick up your own copy 

of my first book of poetry, 
entitled My Life In Poetry 
at D. Denise Dianaty

18 August 2014

Poem: Laugh Clown… Laugh

Laugh Clown… Laugh
by D. Denise Dianaty – 18 August 2014

Laugh clown… laugh

Delivered the joke, smiled through torment…
On humor’s wings your malady was bent.
You shared with all your gift of the jape,
For our maudlin hearts a moment’s escape.
A manic laugh ‘pon your face fights,
We raised you up to astonishing heights.

Laughing… laughing… laughing… laugh

From the depth of melancholy in your eyes,
Take flight now before us… ever higher you’ll rise.
Made us laugh ’til we did cry apiece…
Precarious… you teetered ‘pon the precipice.
Played out your suffering ‘pon the stage,
Lights… camera… the pedestal… your cage.

Cry out loud… make jest of your pain

For you ever inspired, gave hope from your fragility, 
Shined so brightly for all your frolicking jocularity, 
Behind the door… in the dark… burned out alone.
Did we ever see if a smile from your eyes shone.
You always were easing our lonely malady.
You made the joke from your own tragedy.

The lonely clown… living to entertain

Reveling in your hilarity taken for granted,
Your warmth… your joy… we were enchanted.
Left none to ease your heart so dolorous,
To deliver joy beyond depression’s curse.
To strive with unending adverse poignancy, 
Gave joy… spread smiles… and tears of hilarity.

Dying… dying…dying to make us laugh

Laughing… laughing… laughing countenance
Hiding behind laughter, your sustenance.
Your soul laid bare… laid bare for the joke,
Poured out… poured out… ’til your heart broke.
Loving the clown to death, we cried,
Cruelest cut the day the laughter died.

Laugh clown… laugh
Laughing… laughing… laughing… laugh
Cry out loud… make jest of your pain
The lonely clown… living to entertain
Dying… dying…dying to make us laugh

15 July 2014

Southerners (pronounced, "Suth'nahs")

A little something that’s been doing the rounds for a long time – I didn’t compose the list. Just thought I'd share!

No self-respecting Southerner would ever call them selves a "South-er-ner." It's pronounced: "Suth’nuh." And "Southernisms" (pronounced "suth’nisms") are uniquely southern (pronounced "suth'nahn") colloquial modes of speech and attitude.


Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don't "HAVE" them, you "PITCH" them.

Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, or what have you make up "a mess."

Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of "yonder." (pronounced: yon-dah)

Only a Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is, as in: "Goin' to town, be back directly ..."

Even Southern babies know that "Gimme some shugah" is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.

All Southerners know exactly when "by and by" is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.

Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who's got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad. If the neighbor's trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin!

Only Southerners grow up knowing the difference between "right near" and "a right far piece." They also know that "just down the road" can be 1 mile or 20.

Only a Southerner, both knows and understands, the difference between a redneck, a good ol' boy, and po' white trash.

A Southerner knows that "fixin" can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.

Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines, ... and when we're "in line,"... we talk to everybody!

Put 100 Southerners in a room and half of them will discover they're related, even if only by marriage.

In the South, ya’ll is singular, all ya’ll is plural.

Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.

Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.

When you hear someone say, "Well, I caught myself lookin'," you know you are in the presence of a genuine Southerner!

Only true Southerners say "sweet tea" and "sweet milk." Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it. "Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.

And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway. You just say, "Bless her heart.… " and go your own way.

To those of you who are still a little embarrassed by your Southerness: Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning. Bless your heart! And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff… bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin' to have classes on Southernness as a second language!

And for those that are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, all ya’ll need a sign to hang on ya’ll's front porch that reads "I ain't from the South, but I got here as fast as I could."
Southern girls know: men may come and go, but friends are fah-evah !

Now Shugah, send this to someone who was raised in the South or wish they had been! If you're a Northern transplant… bless your little heart… fake it. We know you got here as fast as you could.