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With gratitude to the difficult ones... a poem by Veronica Farmer

11/13/2015

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I thank the mean ones
And the cruel
The narcissists
and the space invaders
For their work

For they have shaped me
And sculptured me from hard marble
Into warm flesh and breath

Without the darkness
And the fear
Without the agony
and despair
I wouldn't know
Who I am

My strength came
And my knowing of ground
When once l learned how to say 'No!'
To make more room for a bounty of Yes!
and joy
surrounding me now


Perhaps on the other side
Of this existence
Those I loved the most
Chose to give me this sacred gift of pain
To mould me and help define my skin
and heart
So I could remember who I now am

So I thank you
With love
For your gift
of how you have smashed at my ego
Left me foetal
crying and angry
in mind and body
​broke me


A gentler, simpler
and easier existence
would not have brought me to this place
This knowing of my own soul

All Rights Reserved Veronica Farmer 2015


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It's easy to inflate.. a poem by Nikki Kelly

11/13/2015

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It's easy to inflate something that isn't 

It's easy to impose interpretations

What if that doesn't fit?

So to rise above old expectations
And experiences 
Express, rather than fear
Become easy to trust 

That whatever life throws to press buttons
Is exactly the light shining
On to the cracks of old hurt
Ready for creating the new

So what is it that wants focus?
The old or the new?
A decision to open doors
Might just bring 
Everything

A poem by Nikki Kelly - all rights reserved for The Lioness Project Poetry ww.tlppoetry.com
Do You have a poem in you?  Send it to infoangelsrest@gmail.com for submission and join the Lioness Tribe! 

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Atop a dune.. a poem by Nikki Kelly for the Lioness Project

11/13/2015

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Atop a dune
Bathing in gold 
Remembering myself
And fun to have

Grains of sand
Records of 'time'
A moment's blessing
Each breath anew

Poem by Nikki Kelly
The Lioness Project Poetry.  

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Fierce and Free... a poem by Veronica Farmer

11/11/2015

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Change is as good as a rest
they say
and yet
it always used to feel terrifying
and not remotely restful
It used to lead me to heart banging discomfort
mental anguish
or high breathing
the rabbit in the headlights blank stare

Not now
Not anymore

Now I am free

I feel myself warm
at how the day twists and turns
All I have to do is dance with it
that's all
and the mind has no room to resist

I have found that seriousness
is the enemy 
to joy
Instead of hurry-upping my children
I tickle them and sing wild songs

They like a crazier mother

I had to be brave enough
to allow all of my passion
to be present
To speak of my truth
and be ok with that wildness
in this appropriate world

I can't go back
and squash myself 
into that jack-in-the-box once more
of a tidily spoken well behaved
good girl

Life is too rare
and precious
to waste
to not say
All The Things
and Be just who I am

Every infinitesimal moment
is there
to be sublimely explored
such a waste
to miss moments
or not be true to my own heart and body
or wait
for a better time
a safer time to get real

I love this freedom
out of the cocoon
wings fierce and wide
concerned no more
with how others may be confronted
by their size

The delicious self
under the bones and skin
playful, silly and real
free from the carefully crafted prison 
of society's normal
offers true expression
a Life alive..

​I am now living.

All Rights Reserved Veronica Farmer 2015
www.angelsrestqld.com
www.veronicafarmer.org
​
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I see. On healing the mother... a poem by Veronica Farmer

11/8/2015

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Suddenly Awake
in the quiet dark hours
Feeling her
Sitting next to me
I see...

The orange and brown flowers
of her mini dress
so perfectly sewn
Her hands anxiously smoothing the fabric down
through time

White thighs
And dark piled hair
An exhausted 1960s goddess

I did ask
Before I slept
Why the hunger...
inside?

Here she is
a weight at the end of my bed
sitting here

The answer to my question

My mother
young child woman
overwhelmed
away from her family
and all she had ever known

The too small infant
on her lap
dependant and starving
watching silently
her every move
having learned fast
​within hours of life

that crying
would only create more distance


She had felt alone
this mother
in this strange town

Her entrapment
And society's expectation
of pristine folded nappies
pegs swinging on a rusty clothesline
the need to perform
overtaking her
with mind crushing anxiety

Fear evaporated
her milk
And made her desperate
to run

The confused baby
Now a woman
smiles

I see why...

The deep hunger remained unresolved

I see why...

she left me.
And my attraction
to punishing her
and my own heart for knowing it

I had been seeking out places to starve
hoping unrequited love would
resolve this pain

A disconnected lover with back turned
more familiar
and desirable
than warm eyes and open arms


Until the seeing of the root of it
I held

a deep ache to reach fingers pulled away
to heal those who would recoil
from my touch

Meanwhile
I would kick away
and run from the ones

who would See me
too close and uncomfortable
this more enveloping love

Knowing this now
deep in my belly 

I get it

I forgive
this young woman
and her too soft skin
eyes lined with bitter tears and smudged black kohl

I forgive 
her trauma
And her raw emotions
As she slumps here
stuck in time

A shadow at the end of my bed

I reach my now adult arms
to soothe her
and provide comfort
touch nose to forehead
In a slow breath
Cradle her cheek against my shoulder
Warm hand on the small of her back

I can hold her
This way
gently
as long as it takes
heal this wound
and
hold myself

My own dear child's legs
spaghetti wrapped in mine
pin half of me to the bed

As I release the mother
And forgive us both
I understand why
I gain so much comfort in my son's warm body

His fragrant skin next to mine
comforts
I know its truth
the way his eyelashes lay against his cheek
fills my heart
and a rich ocean deep in my being
a love

she has never known

The ancient resistance
A fishing line and hook in my heart
pull out now
The distrust
rips away
finally...

I may now receive love
lightly
And know a free and more simple life

It's not too late...
To start again.

​

All Rights Reserved Veronica Farmer
www.angelsrestqld.com
​www.veronicafarmer.org
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Towel... a poem by Veronica Farmer

11/7/2015

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No towel this morning
a facecloth only
I stare at it
The story comes...
"How on earth am I to dry myself with this?
Come on!
Which child. Stole. My towel?"
I smile to myself
and catch my eyes in the mirror

We resist life 
when it throws us the odd and unusual
we like certainty
the facecloth has the same drying ability
as the towel
it just requires more patience
and a sense of humour

So patience and humour
as I allow the Universe to walk me
instead of my mind walking a narrow path
Allowing life
is the portal
for a playful love and life to unfurl
and the day...


All Rights Reserved Veronica Farmer 2015
Also see www.veronicafarmer.org


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Run Wild in snow... a poem by Isabella Farmer (10 years old)

11/7/2015

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Snow leopards
I wish I could see one
I can almost feel their energy
big and wild
big hearts
wise

They know the history
of our world
I feel like they have always been here
Their eyes tell a story

I hope they stay in our world
if we let them

Us human beings are not treating them
as we should
We can do better
can we?

We can do better
than look at phones
not noticing
their habitat is falling apart

Please help me see them
Help them live

A poem by Isabella Farmer (10 years old) 
All Rights reserved
www.veronicafarmer.org

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    Lioness poet

    Veronica Farmer is an Amazon Best selling Author and Poet.  Her book  Made Beautiful by Scars- Transformation Stories is a book of raw human inspirational stories that help readers find their truth, their "fierce" behind life scars. When she is not writing, Veronica is a renowned intuitive Healer and therapist at her Healing clinic on the Gold Coast, Australia.  

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