transitionu

Life Coaching, Observations, Reflections, Things that make you go hmmmmm

Tag Archives: Spirituality

Lyrics List

Lyrics List

Then one day you look around and notice just how many you’ve done.

There is a contact me form at the end of the list.

G.R. Hambley © all rights reserved.
1 Little Black Dressed is collaboration that is very special.
Living out life in a gleeful rage
Innocence in this smile, tricks in another
The sweetness of the slaughter upon the lips
The second-hand silk is only a tease
2 Closing Time
Another time, another place,
you’d become not just another face
3 Making My Way
Walking round and round that house of tells
Your voice comes calling out in the dark
Heard you sayin’ it’d be right for this old heart
4 From The Stars
Long before there was sin
Way out where the souls begin
Came a song in a whisper
5 We Have One Now
Happens once and a while, only for one man smile
An angel face, melting eyes, her sweet breathy sighs
Dropping in to talk, lingering on a walk
6 Edge Walking
Waking to another day, already on the knife
Always at the ready, keep staying honed
Lookin’ round, it all appears the same as yesterday
7 Realize It’s Over
It’s about taking time to take time
There just hasn’t been much at all
Call comes in on the telephone line
8 On That Jersey Shore
Started out like any other day
Woke up with the waves calling
Wanted to just lie there numb
9 If You Dare
Once in a time
that was better than anything in your mind
Not so strange
in a world where love’s made such a change
10 Red Rose Among The Trees
Know this being all alone to well
Staying late, never going home
Seeing others close, sticks and stones
Hands in hands, hands in my pockets
11 Baby Be Mine
She’s colder than northern winds
She’s hotter than original sins
Gonna be there and bide my time
Do right and make that girl mine
12 Now Begins Forever
We’ve been going round and round
exchanging our half smiles
having all those conversations
where we won’t let them the end
13 Counter Cutie
Climbs herself up on that chair, gives up a little high thigh
Overtly lets them legs cross, grey skirt makes a swift shift
Uncrossing them, a small curvy push, tilting back the cool stool
14 Nella Notte Cieca
Believing with all her heart someday it’ll come true
Letting the living lie slide on out the way it came
Inside where she hides from herself and the pain
15 Angel Beach
We were just walkin’ along that beach
Seeing the ripples, rise higher and higher
Stopping to stare into that setting sun
16 Won’t You Tell Me
Baby I got these thoughts going on
Sitting all by myself at home
Sitting here feeling all alone
17 Beach Bound
Been working an all night day
Now there’s time for a little fun
Sun’s making its morning run
18 Departure Gate
Fretting over it hour after hour
Worrying about it night after night
Feeling it fall week after week
Been knowing it for months now
19 Train Of Thought
Sitting on this sweltering city roof
Far below people roaming around
Sweating and swearing as they go
20 The Devil’s Fine Day
He done went down from heaven
The boy just up and shuffled off
The Devil took himself a powder that day
21 Witness
Looking for a little down time
.     had to get myself away
Monday morning glory
.     wasn’t happening today
22 Crashing Down
Day slides it’s way to the end
Not looking forward to going home
Turning in at that bend in the road
Rather be making a long drive alone
23 Fallen Angel
Newly fallen she wakes to a different world today
And she’s never
never been on her own before
Went from home on the hill to a home on loan
24 In The Quiet Of The Night
Half past midnight and finally free
free from the demands of a clamoring world
World moving so fast it’s hard to keep your feet
feet feel like miles and the miles feel like hell
25 You No More
Sometimes you just know
just know you got no more
no more love left to give
26 Girls Rite
You hear them, it’s the shame every time
They’ve all had it happen, been torn apart
Now another one’s got the no romance blues
27 Falling Apart
These days are almighty long
the nights so lonely
Giving the best for the cheque
spending nights in hazy dread
28 Once Again
Once again freedom’s crying
ringing out while on the run
It falls to the old ones
those who long ago came of age
29 No More Yesterday’s
There were those who’d gone ahead
Learned the ropes and roads and dread
Some came and shared their mind
Others struggled and suffered and died
30 Everyone’s Girl
Her days don’t begin before three
Her nights spent in party grove
Never seen the sun go down
Seen it coming up so damn often
31 Lost And Found
The times wearing me on down
no time for any little thing
Sprung from the trap you set
gonna take the fast road back
32 Lake Side
Day dreaming out on the rocks
sun setting the lake ablaze
all but gone the hostage daze
letting down all the blocks
33 Haunting Her
Unseen she stepped inside
Know it’s her by the steps
She stares straight ahead
Her face kept firmly set
34 Once Bitten
We were young and oh so cool
Back when we were all fools
Feelin’ our way around
35 Spinsters
Stories making the rounds
none to be believed
none to be trusted
careful not to get busted
36 Left Unsaid
Whispers and rustles making the rounds
Sighs and gasps the disbelieving sounds
It’s between us, no one must, couldn’t ever be us
37 Were You Me
Watching out the window on a cloudy day
Caught up in all those billows shifting shapes
Faces through my ages floating in grey space
There’s so little that’s left out in front
38 Missing Day
Up in the morning and the coffee’s on
Sour dough toasting, golden for me
A little cinnamon sugar reminds of you
Not even seven and there’s the phone
39 Going Clean
Whispers in the air
Eyebrows raising up
Pretending not to hear
Taking in what’s said
40 If Only
Walking on home alone,
that old bell softly chimes
Passing right on by,
the tower bell strikes again
Falling farther behind
that niggling bell tolls once more
G. R. Hambley ©
All rights reserved

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Curios

Curios

Curios

Curios

Mine is mine and to each their own
so whom are we to pass judgement

One’s choices predicated upon
by how you my dear individual perceive

Reapers, the purveyors of goods grim
honouring both dollar and ritual

But just because you can
does it mean you should indulge the macabre

Incendiary with a highly volatile fuse
fostering unspoken mortification

Done from love by loss
as inherently personal as love’s little death

Memories tactile, both taking away
and in embracing the pain

Open wide to holding up a mirror
reflection upon your hurting self

Morbid, magnificent, maudlin, majestic
what else could be said of selections such

Each and every with their unique curio
memory memorabilia a curious thing

Nature ‘tis of we mournful beasts
displaying in so many ways

Turning cheek, both other and off if you please
my crass, your cats ass

One tap, two tap, three, forever remains in me

G.R. Hambley ©
June 01, 2017

I made an error in formatting on the original post. The error is now corrected. The poetry has not changed.

Spinsters – Lyric

Spinsters

Lyric

Spinsters Fini 01

What you’re seeing is the font I write in. I’ve never been enamoured  with the formatting options here at WP so on occasion, I work around the lack of options.

Spinsters

Stories making the rounds
none to be believed
none to be trusted
careful not to get busted

Those new age spinsters
dishing up their gospel
dishing up who’s in hospital
careful not to go to hell

Telling you what you should
dirt found on every track
dirt found in every attack
careful not to take it in the back

got yourself busted
took yourself to hell
won’t be coming back
Spinning hucksters wheel going round and round
Running freedom down in to the ground

Round and round…

Down in to the ground…

Going to take more than a frown…

Spew in streaming sensaround
feel that whole mind invasion
feel that total frustration
mold to fit the compilation

Spoon feeding the grand plan
using grins from ear to ear
using anything that will adhere
mold never stops injecting fear

Making the conscious beginning
listen to that self interested person
listen to that warning of treason
mold resolve to your reason

turn your dial to decompile
take hold of your fear
fill your head with reason
Spinning hucksters wheel going round and round
Running freedom down in to the ground

Round and round…

Down in to the ground…

Going to take more than a frown…

G.R. Hambley ©
April 22, 2017

Transmogrification – Sonnet

Transmogrification

Sonnet

Travails in justification, the mire of the mind in mutation, perhaps
How it fluctuated, took to morphing without coalescing
Estranged in nature’s abhorrent space, black holes materialize
Preposterous, light so bleak bending, breaking, emerging anew
Reflections reverberate in cognisance, pierce the consciousness traps
Once begun, pray that such a state be only dream within dreaming
Preposterous, real concern, nouveau reality, doubts arise
Once begun, one, only one able to convey passage safely through
Step thee back, take thine passage through the passage of bygone
Insistent insipids traipsing in, muddy thoughts you must know in tow
Thundering head, racing heart, change’s inescapable plight
Indomitable chiselers, grey chips and chunks rebound from bone
Once begun, these manic mechanics never let the ride slow
Nary a peep through sublimation, behold you; a keeper of the right rite

G.R. Hambley ©
April 01, 2017

To change in appearance or form, especially strangely or grotesquely; transform.

Angels Obliged Act III

Angels Obliged

Angels Obliged Act I Angels Obliged Act II

Act III

Darkness begins its eerie silent descent
Moans with prayers, the wounded lament
Stench rising off seared and rotting flesh

Morning’s breaks early for the two above
Notice made to the two under sacred grove
Readied, willing and oh so capable to kill

Speed the key to having the first heads fall
Swords on a horse’s wings will reduce the thrall
Hell’s keeper rides upon enchanted steed

Angels two, attacking these evil’s doing
Angels two, dispatching those beyond hell

Evils shaking off the debauchery of the night
Unaware, heaven and hell added to their plight
Heaven’s thunder beats, hell begins to quake

Books of prophets false held proudly on high
Zealots unholy, prodding the evils killing drive
Death wings come slicing, guillotine with hooves

Just beginning to learn what they’ve brought
Payment now due in full for what they bought
Bile violently spews as books in severed hands fall

Angels two, horrifying these evil’s doing
Angels two, threshing those beyond hell

One from the depths attacks where the evils creep
Horn of the magical beast impales, blood seeps
Blue fire from the one named Demon erupts

Lightning chains turning the living to charred
Pain and suffering ordered carried to the beyond
Horns of both beasts stained, dripping the evil’s flesh

Some standing stunned among smoldering remains
Others swarm to the call of false prophet claims
Many more to feel the strikes and stings, an absolute

Angels together, razing these evil’s doing
Angels apart, bleeding out those beyond hell

Massing together, evils three in shared horror
Who’s will dare intrude on the destined honour
Cries lifted to the one, deliver them the way rite

Wings from above settle below beside the horned
Back to back and quarter to quarter we’re formed
They come, they fall, the evils and their books no more

Angels scarred, side by side, majikal steeds torn
Retreating through the mutilated evils with scorn
Tears fall gently from the tortured soul of The One

Angels obliged, destroyed the evil’s doing
Angels obliged, new light made beyond hell

End Act III

End all Acts

G.R. Hambley ©
May 12, 2016

Chronological Posting List

It was, “Because You Asked”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Handwritten.”

Been a while since I’ve done it. There are a couple others that came after this but I just don’t happen to have that writing book with me right now.

Come to think of it I haven’t written in my journal for a while either. That would be the leather covered item with a high quality 1/2 size paper that I do not share with anyone.

When I write by hand the discipline is different. I do mean discipline too. When it goes down on the page that is how I want it to stay. I don’t like stroking things out and replacing what I’ve put down on the page. I think about it, I don’t use my thesaurus, I don’t wite it down elsewhere and transfer what I wrote. That would be copying not writing by hand!

I like the feel of the pen in my hand and the stark beauty of the blank page. I even have a pen that only I use. I will not let anyone else use my pen. You can see my pen in this piece. “Weapons Of Mass Persuasion“.

The piece written by hand and transferred to the electronic is up on site, “Because You Asked” is the name.

Because you asked fini

Another I wrote by hand and transferred to the electronic is, “Because We Are“. This one is in Acrostic.

G.R. Hambley – all rights reserved
September 11, 2015

Once Upon A Sky

Once Upon A Sky

This like most of what I write has poignancy. This is for a lion named Cecil killed by a man in Minnesota named Walter Palmer with a major disconnect. I have a lot to say after the poetry on photograph.

Once Upon A Sky Post

~.~.~.~.~

Awakening gently from a late summer’s after picnic nap
Consciousness comes creeping, deliberately, deliciously, alive
Limbs sun warmed, face burnished bronze, sleep rubbed away
Overhead a world unto itself drifts, white with powder blue
Under meringue peaks, lake glimmers, sparkles, winks knowingly
Day to tuck safely away in mind for a chill fireplace night

Shapes form, they come to this, they go to that, dance for my delight
There was that, now there’s this, something new wafting in to view
Roses on rhinos, sombreros on seahorses, bells adorn beasties
Angels with whip cream smiles, halos hung on unicorn horns
Time has come to pick me up, say goodbye to this super natural sight
Azure waters whisper of one more, turn and see, a lonely lioness laments

G.R. Hambley ©
August 28, 2015

The Killing Kind

I’m thinking about you Cecil. I’m sure there are others that are thinking about you too. Those others and me, we are all wondering. We wonder how what was done to you Cecil at the pleasure of Walter Palmer can be prevented from happening to any creature for pleasure.

I’m thinking and wondering about what kind of disconnect someone has to have to not only kill you Cecil, but to kill for pleasure. Then there are the ones who’ll take the money so those with that killing disconnect can indulge their pleasure.

It is difficult for me to decide if this piece belongs on transitionu or SPASM. There isn’t anything to speak of in the smartass category but there is much in the way of personal opinion and anger. I admit to bringing my personal opinions to both Blogs but they are faceted differently.

I care to look at this disgrace with my whole self. My whole self has both Blogs. My whole self sees and reacts in different ways.

We know this instance is high profile because Cecil Lion was lured out from a preserve. We know of this pleasure killing because of the prominence of Cecil Lion. We know this killing was flat out just wrong!

You read some of Minnesota Dentist Walter Palmer’s rhetoric. I believe it is only spouted to cover his dumb ass. Consider what he says with the actuality. It doesn’t take much consideration to come to the conclusion that this individual went to Zimbabwe for the sole purpose of pleasure killing.

He calls himself a Sportsman, a Big Game Hunter. Where the hell was the sport Walter? Tell me Walter, how did the game you got that you needed for your table taste? It’s this way Palmer, all of us who deplore what you did want the answers to those questions. We know the truth. Had you told the truth there would at least be respect for telling the truth.

Yes Walter the world knows you made apology. I and others very much doubt that the apology you made was contrived and nothing more than an attempt to cover your ass. The only way to have covered your dumb ass was by not killing. You’ve proven you’re too stupid to have not shown off your kill.

Tell me Walter did you know Lions are a threatened species? If you knew then you obviously didn’t give a damn or you wouldn’t of gone to kill one for your pleasure.

So you know Wally, this one isn’t going away and if you care to you’ll be able to see for yourself in the link to what Grace Mugabe said.

Walter Palmer, what I say here you might want to take to your sick heart, for you, there is no redemption.

I went looking and reading as I was doing this piece. Bounced what I found off a good friend in South Africa. My friend made a one word comment after reading what I sent on Grace Mugabe and that word was, “crazy”. That same friend went back to my photograph with poetry and said, “she’s missing him too”.

Don’t blame Cecil the lion’s killer, says Zimbabwe’s First Lady Grace Mugabe

For you Grace Mugabe it’s this way. Were pleasure killers like Walter Palmer not looking to kill for their self gratification then there wouldn’t be greedy sleazy pimps taking the money to lead those pleasure seekers to a kill. No surprise you want to keep that foreign money rolling in.

There is no race issue here. The killing of Cecil in Zimbabwe is not a whole lot different than trafficking children for sex. The commonality is sick people with a major disconnect willing to pay large money to satisfy their pleasures.

The poetry for “Once Upon A Sky” is written the way it is with the specific intent of setting up the stick it in, twist it and then break it off. Making a killer statement, I can get behind, beside and in front of that kind of killing. The needless, senseless and unnecessary taking of life I simply cannot fathom or condone.

There are a great number of good people missing you Cecil and lamenting your loss just like the lioness in the sky is missing you and lamenting your passing. There are those who will not let this one just fade away. There are those who will speak out against the killing and do what they can to make it so that killing for pleasure stops. I am one of those people.

Oh and Cecil just so you know, the killing of you made us that wonder more aware of the ones we don’t know about and more determined to have it stop!

G.R. Hambley – August 30, 2015
All rights reserved

Just Fly

Just Fly

~.~.~.~.~

A metaphysical moment

learn-to-fly-01

G.R. Hambley – all rights reserved

And if you’d care for a little flight of your own.
Tom Petty and Pink Floyd

https://play.spotify.com/track/4DWzGxXc3shAzDGy2UIaL5

https://play.spotify.com/track/29AqwAO3ovtvipJC767gQE

Quoth Me #9 MAJIK

MAJIK. For the true makers, we are allowed to spell it as such. Verily, we can conceive of no other way to spell it when we write of our SPELL making.

This quoth me was derived from a response I made to the following comment on LINKEDIN, “what is written without effort is in general read without pleasure“.

Some of us can write when we think and write when we don’t think. It’s called MAJIK. I can and do, do it. I have it and those others who have it and can also make MAJIK. We have been granted by the Gods Of Creation that gift.

Some of the things we do are thoughtless and happen oh so very quickly. They are not and never are effortless.

When the majik happens, just flows out of you in to creation it is a beautiful thing. The physical and emotional feelings I have when it is happening are incredible. The feeling when the piece finishes, I call completion euphoria. Physically and emotionally the feeling is so incredibly satisfying.

All 3 of these of mine were “effortless” and I have others that were thoughtless and not effortless.

25 minutes and done in acrostic format.
https://transitionu.wordpress.com/2015/05/27/for-lucky/

30 minutes for the poetry.
https://transitionu.wordpress.com/2014/08/27/me-and-donne/

45 minutes for the poetry and 8 hours for the art.
https://transitionu.wordpress.com/2015/05/26/delight/

The quote I like is this.
“The true alchemists of the world due not change lead in to gold; they change the world into words” William H Gass

Polarized – poetry with art

Polarized – poetry with art

The poetry is, “Polarized”. The art is “Winter Freeze”

WinterFreeze

Polarized

Winter worked majik, resplendent greeting on awakening
Invitation to paint the scene written on warm breath wisps
Night’s making of white satin, a canvas for two this afternoon

Taking time to share a cup, the rest fills the warming jar
Easel holding brushes, fans and flats and swords, box full of paints
Red? no, blue? not for this beautiful day made just for us two,

From those two, a daub from me, a dab from you, more from you
Running together, mixture of shades, the palette goes to purples
Eye catches eye, hand joins hand, bundled up, bristling to colour the scene

Energized, bold strokes, light caresses, icicles drip from branches
Zeno himself unable to deny these motions making change just illusion
Enervated, spent after this day spent together doing as lovers do

G.R. Hambley ©
June 14, 2015