Regrets

Looking back, it was a mistake One of any number that now plague me Life is a journey Decisions get made And then there are the regrets. The feeling that it could have been different Perhaps, should have been different Knowing that fate was maybe stacked against you Karma being worked as the Wheel turned “It’s life,” she told me today She’s right, but that can’t take away The regrets Karmic debts Have I paid in full yet? Is my future set? A decade gone and all I have Are regrets If I could go back, what would I fix? I’d fix the part of me That couldn’t really see The love I needed lay within me I didn’t need her I don’t need you I don’t need anyone Except

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In Search of Charisma

Charisma. It’s a word I hear used about people from time to time. People have a charismatic personality and people follow them. Charismatic people seem to have a knack to walk through life with a smile on their face. Confident, assertive and bold. I had a boss a few years ago in Houston who was charismatic. He was Dutch and I guess in his 50’s. He had a deep hypnotic voice and he took good care of himself. Women swooned and men followed without question me included. You felt good in his company and his energy somehow rubbed off on you as enthusiasm. Looking back, I really don’t know what he did exactly except build and maintain relationships. He offered little direction as a boss but commanded great loyalty. He

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Passer By

Travelling a well traveled road Valleys and mountain peaks pass me by Dusky deserts and luscious oceans sprawling Somewhere there is a place unique to me But I haven’t yet found it There is no home in my life I am a traveller, a passer by These days I travel light I carry little but my burdens in life I have washed myself in the stream of life And burned away dross in the primal fire I have climbed the tree that lies at my center The view from its peak took my breath away I have drawn holy waters from the mystic well And yet, I haven’t found my home Perhaps at this journeys end I will find my repose? Many miles yet to travel Many sins to unravel

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Lady

She gently brushes my graying face With her sweet and airy breath Her musky fragrance pervades The hallowed space around me I have plumbed her depths And I have drank her deeply Yet, still she is a mystery to me She gave me life and sustenance She washed away my pain with her tears Her embrace is like eternity She is beneath me and above me She is always all around me I breathe in her fragrance deeply I am hers utterly, completely Within me and without me The divine waters ebb and flow She is my soul. She is my Goddess She is Life and she will be my death She is the Grail that I have sought She is the beginning and the end She is this life

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If you want to be kept abreast of all things G. Michael Vasey once a month or so then please sign up for my newsletter that I am launching. I will feature short stories, fun articles and news about books….. Sign up here and join a growing bunch of ‘in the know’ people…… you can unsubscribe anytime….

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Lifelines

Lifelines In indelible ink Or the tattoo on my navel Lifelines Seared across my open palm Experienced by the ladle Snapped shut, my eyes Drift across Dreamy inner scenes A life in perspective Seeking a new directive A sure beginning A waning middle And uncertain end Simple sensational synapses Reliable renewables relapses I act but did I intend? I hope and I depend That the light at the end of my tunnel Is relief and not further trouble I got my opinions And I got my views Imagination aplenty Creating cryptic critical crises With dependable dull devices Lifelines In my biological genes In the redness of my blood Lifelines Is it really pre-ordained Or am I truly self-sustained?

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I was Troubled. Now I am Astonished.

The other day I was participating in a discussion on Facebook. The theme of the topic was the supermarkets here in Brno and one person posted a very long tirade about empty shelves. I was amazed. Empty shelves? Where? When? This was such an opposite to my experience with Brno supermarkets that I responded rather too quickly. I said something like – you must live in a parallel universe….. Of course, he took this as insulting, not knowing me. I think probably anyone would. But I actually meant it. It wasn’t an insult but an observational analysis that, as I grow older I more and more believe may be true. We all live in our own realities and we reflect back what we expect. It’s not quite that simple of course,

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Ski Weekends

We went skiing this last weekend. That sounds like a lot of fun doesn’t it? It sort of conjures an image of daring and sportiness, Apres ski, and so on. When I say we, I really mean my partner and daughter went skiing. Off they went and down they came the ski slope again and again and again. Me, I either watched them shivering in the freezing cold breeze, or you would have found me skiing several times down the last 50 meters or so of the slope, cursing like a trooper, moving like a skewered Giraffe on drugs and sweating like a … well, pig actually. You see, Skiing terrifies me. It sounds good. I’m going skiing! The reality is that anything more than 15 degrees sloped downwards and

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New Year Celebration?

Please forgive me for being a party pooper but I dislike New Year. I think I detest it because I simply don’t understand it. What are we celebrating? I suppose we are pleased to be getting rid of one year and welcoming a new one with all its potential. But don’t we do exactly that every single day? What is so special about this particular day? And if I am to celebrate the potential of a new year then why does it begin with a hangover? what a great start – a late night and too much alcohol – the new year is already ruined before it even began! No, if it were down to me, I’d be going to bed at a normal hour and treating it like any other

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The Cross

Have to admit I am deeply flawed And no matter how hard I try These things so deeply lie Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Balancing elements Losing irrelevants In places No soap has ever been In places No physical eyes have seen Still, it’s not enough Some habits hang tough The flaws magnified Obsessing over scratches While missing the gaping wound Bleeding Pleading Seeing life ooze away Nothing left except to pray Elements stirred Returned to the point At which we started When these four were parted Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Four-lorn, I am The fifth gets Short shrift The Lamb I am A Cross Free of Dross I am Yes, I truly am

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