JINGLE ON MY SON!

JINGLE ON MY SON!
A doughty champion of his local culture.(Poet Tom Hubbard)Your performance at the city hall was soooooooooo good! Christoph thought it was excellent! (Carolyn)

10.8.10

POEM FOR THE COMMUNITY


















Out of love,

grasp life.

Hold it

in your arms.

It is breathing.

It needs to be

cared for.


Don’t be afraid

to kiss it.

Hug it openly;

laugh and dance with it;

let it fly high

and come back

to sleep with you.


The purpose of life

is living,

walking, running,

dreaming, loving.

No more than to create

with others.

No more than to live, drink, eat, share

with others.


Life is community.

Community is to link as lovers,

to give untl your heart can give no more.


Caress that seagull’s wing,

lick the dew from the grass,

grow the most beautiful flower,

protect the ugliest weed,

hold the hand of a cripple,

wave to the sea and the sky.


Whatever you do,

live it.

That’s the only point.


Enjoy it,

enrich it.

Sow seeds of welcome,

seeds of respect,

dignity for every living thing,

for every damned growing thing.


Go on

making stories of a lifetime,

taking from the past the best love songs.

Don’t ask what life is -

it’s in you,

it’s the breath you breathe

into others.





Keith Armstrong


the jingling geordie

My photo
whitley bay, tyne and wear, United Kingdom
poet and raconteur