Ubuntu Journal

$p@m p0em

ubuntujournal — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 03:15:45 +0000

hey dylan long time no speak
we are trying to contact you
haven’t heard from you in a while
feeling good is not a dream

don’t be inadequate anymore
don’t be the little guy in the club

the old is new again tasha
why is my sister in pain?
being your friend I’ll let you in on this
feeling great is possible

your partner will worship you for it
your true love is out there waiting for you

have you tried it cathy?
where will you be in four years?
become happy with your performance
feeling well is not a fantasy

we test so you don’t have to
we understand your condition because we’ve been there

how could it be easier carl?
why is my brother in pain?
where will you be in ten years?
feeling strong is not a luxury

your life could be bigger
you are lost as of september 30th

feeling strong is one click away
feeling good is not a dream

J. Richard McLaughlin
richard_mclaughlin@hotmail.com

Upon Awakening

ubuntujournal — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 00:10:18 +0000

I snatched my dreams
and stuffed them in the empty peanut jar,
took it out to the kitchen,
and pored through them over tea.
What’s this mean?
And this?

I pondered causes and relationships
while the cat crapped in its box
and the clouds limped through the morning,
having everything to do with
one another.

J. Richard McLaughlin
richard_mclaughlin@hotmail.com

The Event Horizon

ubuntujournal — Sun, 04 May 2008 12:42:00 +0000

I have fallen, fallen deeply,
deeply beyond the horizon.
No longer to escape you
midnight black hole
of breathless purple gravity.

You have opened, opened slowly,
slowly the door to your darkness.
Enticed, invited, curious
cradle of light,
so willingly I tumbled in.

Secrets buried, buried with care,
care to keep your universe blue?
The bough that breaks shattered the light,
plunging gravely,
lulled and lost from wisdom’s view.

Submitted by Theresa

Music of the Spheres

ubuntujournal — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 19:43:00 +0000

I bask in it,
I bathe in it,
I exult in it.
It makes me whole.
It exalts me to a new
level of being.

What it is about my music that
lifts my spirits,
that encourages me to see beyond
my four walls,
that gives me new
energy?

I stand in front of the music,
swaying, dancing, stretching,
smiling,
even laughing,
delighting in my existence
at that moment.

Yet sometimes
tears come to my eyes,
as the music transcends beyond the moment
to the past, to special moments,
to heartache,
but also to happy times.

And even so,
tears come to my eyes.

Submitted by Betsy

Untitled

ubuntujournal — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 16:05:00 +0000

The Ficus Tree

ubuntujournal — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 14:47:00 +0000

You arrived with a ficus
a living tree in my house
something new.

We moved the ficus to our house
dressed it up with lights
small white ones.

You watered it
Sundays and Thursdays
at least a thousand times.

Nourished to death,
no space to grow,
we moved the ficus out.

Uncontrollable growth,
no space remaining, and
motionless, they moved you out.

I bought a ficus the other day.
I water it
Sundays and
Thursdays,

of course.

Submitted by Theresa
theresa0714@comcast.net