Magazine Posts

Do you ever have thoughts
of things, all asunder,
when you hear the sound
of a clap of thunder?
I do and my mind starts to roam,
away from the troubles now,
away from the trouble at home.

Rain around me.
North and South.
No rain here,
least not now
but soon enough,
rain will abound,
beating at windows;
A rattling sound
of gutters full
and run off too,
as I await
to see you.

A whisper came from lips, ice cold.
Help me Father, for I must go,
to search this broad land
for my pot of gold;
To bring forth riches
first found by thee.
The richness of freedom
to pray on my knee.

When I loved myself enough

I quit settling for too little.
I came to know my own goodness.
I began taking the gift of life seriously and gratefully.
I began to know I was in the right place at the right time and I could relax.
I felt compelled to slow down way down. And that has made all the difference.
I came to love being alone, surrounded by silence awed by its spell, listening to inner space.................

Poster's Note: These are selected Stanzas from Kim McMillen's book "When I Loved Myself Enough”  -  Published posthumously in English by her daughter Alison McMillen. The beautiful short writing underwent a couple of language translations by others and much of her writing has over time been copied, changed, and miss-attributed to Charlie Chaplin on the Internet. In addition to the Numerous websites have reproduced this poem in full, attributing it to Chaplin, parts of her poem have also been used to create share-worthy memes featuring the famous actor’s image. Her book is still available in print and electronic form.

Off in the distance,
another loud roar.
I have heard this sound
many times before.
The noise keeps building,
approaching the door.
The clap of Thunder rattles
the window pane.
A darkening day now;
here comes the rain.

I'm not afraid and yet,
I fear for all children
and what we have beget.

What kind of World, will this be,
if all citizens are not free?
Where must they go
to be treated with equality?

When the music stops
but the dance goes on,
the life we know is over
and our friends are gone.

When the music stops,
in this World so grim,
it will be the time
to think of him.

Stay the course,
all you marching masses,
for cultural change,
moves like Molasses.
Peaceful protests,
for the change we need,
continue marching,
until you succeed.
No matter what
is said in all the chatter,
for all the World
Black Lives Matter.

Genius borders on the
edge of insanity.
I know this to be true,
for I have become
a great fool for you.

The ebb and flow
of living life,
from overpowering love
to increasing strife,
captures one's thoughts again,
filled with days of Sun
and nights of rain.
A battle will rage within
as we mortal people,
will decide to win,
the grandeur of this land,
will be captured once more
for the enduring glory of man.

I awake to the sound of rain
on roof and gutter.
A pleasant sound, bringing peace
to this World of clutter.
In the distance, I hear the roar
of thunder claps.
A rolling sound, moving along;
another, passing Spring storm.
Out of the bed, to the window I go
to watch Natures show.
No bolts of lightning do I see;
just the clouds approaching me.

The Gods are at play,
is often said,
when the game they're playing,
can wake the dead.
A rolling noise, coming this way,
shows me the Gods really do
know how to play.