Contributor Posts

"Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above"

Langston Hughes (1902 – 1967) American Poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, columnist.  More

Life was great.
Life was good.
Then I found
It wasn't understood.
For those who know
Life is not a play
Or a movie show
But a path forever
With nowhere to go.

“Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, / you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.”  Read More

Little slug I do see
why are you eating
my lovely Pansy.

The sound of music
floats through the trees.
I hear your voice;
So sweetly you sing.
The melodious sound
of the music I hear,
reminds me of times
when I called you dear.
Will those years return
back to thee?
I suppose they will,
when you are with me.

Day slowly fades to black.
Moonless sky; Stars all bright,
on this, the darkest night.
Streaking comets, satellites too,
a most remarkable sight to view.

The shadows dance;
It is not a romance.
They are creatures
who jump and prance.
Rippling light, in the dark.
A different noise; a Lark?
I think not
was said to me.
Justice for all
and to be free.

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.