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Word Gems 

exploring self-realization, sacred personhood, and full humanity


 

Kelly Wynne Pavese

 


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Kelly Wynne Pavese

 

 

QUESTIONS

What is pretentious, and what is real?

Why am I too numb to feel?

On our search for what is best,

What purpose is our life, our quest?

Why does it so often seem,

What awakeness lacks, we find in dreams?

Where does soul go when we die?

To another plane where, again, we try...

 

 

TO SHERIDAN

The following is a poem I wrote for Sheridan, my 11 year old niece. She had a  "falling out" with a friend who hurt her feelings, so this was my attempt to make her smile.

 

Sometime, if you're feeling down,

Just stop and take a look around

And soon you'll see that you're the BEST,

You stand so tall, above the rest.

In my eyes, and in others' too,

No one can compare to you.

So ignore those words that bring you down,

'Cause you're the Queen who wears the crown!

 

 

FOR A CO-WORKER ABOUT TO RETIRE

Remember many years ago

When we first  "met"  on the phone....

A bond was formed between us,

Our friendship's seeds were sown.

Since that time we've shared so much

I thank God for every minute

That I've had the chance to share my life

With a great friend like you in it.

Now that you're retiring,

I want to let you know

How much I'm going to miss you,

It's so hard to watch you go.

As the time of your retirement

And last  "working day" draws near,

I know I'll see you often

But I can't help but shed a tear!

I wish you a life of happiness

In everything you do

One that's filled with answered prayers,

Where all your dreams come true.  

 

 

A HALLOWEEN POEM 

written for my niece when she was 5 years old

It's Halloween, and all seems well,

What the dark night brings, only time will tell.

Kids in costumes yell, "Trick or Treat!",

Unaware of whom they'll meet.

Suddenly, there is a sound,

And monsters come from all around.

A ghost, a goblin, then Frankenstein

Allow no child to escape in time.

The children, then, are forced to walk,

Too afraid to scream or talk.

Finally, the monsters stop,

And demand the bags of treats be dropped.

A ghost then screams in a voice that's haunted,

"Your bags of treats are all we wanted!"

 

 

IN MEMORY OF O.T.

This is the poem I wrote for my stepdad (who was, to me, my REAL Dad). He was a retired fireman, loved by all. He lost his life to leukemia, 4 years ago, and I read this poem at his funeral. (The funeral service for him was so beautiful... standing room only, with firemen and firetrucks lining the buildings and streets. Absolutely amazing.) My stepdad's name was "Orval Theodore Lutz." He was called by the name  "O.T." by everyone, the initials of "Orval Theodore."

 

Here is a story that has never been told

About a man I had met when I was just 3 years old.

The night I had met him, he was my Mom's first date,

And I wanted to see him, even though it was late.

When told by my Mom to go back to bed,

I continued to stand there, and ignored what she'd said.

Then this man said to me, 

"Do what she says, you had better,

Or I'll just have to leave", then he grabbed his red sweater.

With that threat in mind, I KNEW I had better

Go back to bed before he, again, grabbed his sweater.

The point of this story is that even at 3,

I already loved this man named "O.T."

When he and Mom married, I was so excited and glad

That I could now, finally, call him my "Dad."

Ever since then, I have not for a minute

Wanted to live life without  O.T. in it.

He was respected by all of the people who knew him,

And the most special people I know, are those I met through him.

O.T. was the epitome of calmness and strength,

To help those he cared for, he would go to great lengths.

Whenever my life seemed confusing and dark,

The light would soon follow, and O.T. was the spark.

And although he is absent from my immediate sight,

He shall always remain the spark of my light.

Each day I thank God for having been blessed

With a Dad like O.T., he was the "Best of the Best"....

 

 

PRESIDENT BUSH AND THE WAR

The following poem was written from my strong emotions/opinions regarding (ex)President Bush and the war that is still continuing today. Forgive me if I offend you or anyone else who may read this, because that is not my intention. I merely vented my emotions on these issues by putting pen to paper, and I didn't stop 'till I felt I'd written enough to get my point across. This was written at the start of the war, several years ago: 

Why on earth are we at war?

Where are the weapons we went searching for?

On the day we voted for President,

The ballots were altered, the betrayal was evident.

Al Gore was clearly winning the race

When, suddenly, Bush took over first place.

Our Country is often informed with just lies,

And the truth that we seek, the politicians disguise.

So now we're at war, which should never have started,

From so many loved ones we've sadly been parted.

A Commandment from God, "Thou Shall Not Kill,"

Was not meant to be altered, nor changed at man's will.

Why can't both Countries back down and refuse

To continue a battle where both sides will lose?

It is, once again, clear for every person to see

That Freedom is costly, and in no way is free.

Why, you ask, are we at war?

Because Bush is our President,

When it should've been Gore......

 

 

A POEM FOR 'PRETTY'

On the last day of "2005,"

a pet named "Pretty" came into our lives.
So unexpected was this guest,

that circumstances weren't at their best.
"Take her back to the store,

to the pet shop where she'd lived before!"
I, however, couldn't do it,

she belonged with me and deep down, I knew it.
You could cut the tension with a knife,

as we tried to plan this rabbit's life.
She was, finally, allowed to stay,

but soon I noticed in dismay
This rabbit had two broken bones,

yet she never let her pain be known.
By a "vet" she was inspected,

who said her leg was quite infected.
A date for surgery was quickly set,

to try to heal my precious pet.
When her day for surgery had arrived,

I planned to pick her up, alive.
Instead we had her put to sleep,

this pet I tried so hard to keep.
How I'd prayed for her to stay,

but God chose to take her anyway.
When I look for her and she's not there,
And my broken heart feels too much to bear,
I remind myself that I was blessed
To have had an Angel as my guest....
 
 

NOTE: The reason she was put to sleep was because the
infection that had started in her leg, had now spread throughout her body. The vet was even going to amputate her leg, if that would save her life, but it was too late... Also: "Pretty"'s leg was already
broken when my friend bought her for me, and after much investigation, it was discovered that her leg was already broken at the pet store!! They even admitted that they "accidently" sold her, that they did not plan to put her up for sale with a broken leg! Horrible, isn't it??? -- Kelly

 

 

FRIENDS TO FOES

From friends to lovers
To rivals to foes....
Another past love affair
Turned-tale-of woes....

 


REGRET

Regret is stifling, a killing of soul
For its paralyzing grip will take its crass toll.
To dwell on those actions wished never been taken
Neglects in God's eyes we shall not be forsaken.
Regret is a time warp of life in the past
It can rob a man's future and diminish it, fast.
Just as ill health can hinder activity,
A life of regret keeps soul in captivity.

 


IN MEMORY OF "GRAP"

Once in a great while, we cross the path of someone
who can be described as generous, loving, considerate and
wise beyond words...Someone whose presence is
welcomed and, put simply, a pleasure to be around. It is,
indeed, a blessing to meet such a person, although the
word "blessing" is an understatement when the person
in question is my Grandpa. He has been more than a
blessing... He has touched my life in

ways that mere words can only begin to describe.
"Grap," as I called him, (as does most of his family),
was, to me, the epitome of the perfect family man, an
absolute hero and ideal role model. Looking back on my
childhood, I envision wonderful memories of him, of all
that he gave to his family, of all that he was. As I've grown
older, I've realized just how much wisdom he possessed,
and how eager he was to share this wisdom with others.
Not once did I walk away from him without having learned
something new, without having become more

enlightened than I was the day before.
Grap's purpose in life was to live with my Grandma,
"Gram," by his side. "Cookie" was what he affectionately
called her, and his unconditional love for her beamed
through his very being. Every time I'd speak with him, he
bragged about Gram, explained how awestruck he was
with her, and how no one in the world could EVER compare
to her. (I told you he was wise), and how June 21st was the
best day of his life....the day he married Gram, 65 years ago.
I remember seeing Grap cry twice in my life: Once was
when Bobbi, my cousin, had her near-fatal car accident,
and the other was when I had mine. He looked at me in the
hospital bed, then turned around and started sobbing
uncontrollably. All I wanted was for him to be O.K.,
to not be so sad, and to know that I WOULD be fine.
I believe that's how Grap feels right now as he looks down
from Heaven upon us. Grap was an Angel on earth, and

now he is with God in the beautiful place in which he belongs.
I believe in my heart that Grap was sent from Heaven to
enlighten and to show the true meaning of love.
It may feel as if a door has closed, shutting us
out from being with Grap whom we love so
much, but do not despair... For another door will open
someday, and as we pass through this door, we shall
reunite with Grap and remain by his side forever, from here
through eternity....

 

 

TO "GOG," MY GREAT-GRANDMOTHER

Written approx. 5 years after she passed away, 11-18-91.

 

"Gog, I am writing this to YOU. Anyone else who'd read

what I'm about to write would probably think I was 'far-fetched.'
Today was the date of your funeral, 11-18. I
hadn't realized this, so what I felt today was even more
incredible...What I felt was YOU, or a scent of you, right
when I got out of the shower. I grabbed a brown towel,
and the scent of you was overwhelming. A scent of
the perfume that you used to wear, which I hadn't
smelled since you that last time I had seen you.
I've been feeling a special bond with you for the past
two years (as I'm sure you know), a comforting feeling
that you are watching over me. Sometimes I've even
felt guilt when your presence is felt, when I'm 'living wrong'...
Gog, I know you are here. For some incredible reason,
you have chosen to stand beside me to remind me that
you and I are, in soul, very much alike. I love you...I feel
closer to you now than when you were alive. Perhaps it's
because I was too young to appreciate your intensity. I
just want you to know that now I DO appreciate your
intensity, so much in fact, that I will adhere to your silent,
yet strong guidance, and let my conscience be congruent with your own.
In closing, you have made an impact on my life and
my soul. You and I are 'one and the same,' except
that you were meant to live your life almost a century
before me. I want to thank you for re-entering my life;
Then again, I guess you never really left...."

 

 

LOVE IS MAGNETIC

August 8, 1989

 

Love is magnetic.

A soul with a heart as cold as ice,
the human being who hypnotically paces along in an existence
void of love CAN and WILL be driven to the awakening of love.
How? Simply by being in the company of another who LIVES
love; The one who embraces this empty being with a hug,
or reminds him that he, too, is lovable. Keep in

mind that it is true that love can leave one with
a broken heart... For love is never predictable, never consistent.
A love so engulfed within another can be taken away, either
by death, a misunderstanding or resentment. Being such a
powerful, soul-consuming necessity, any doubt of the
reciprocation of one's love can cause a pain which parallels no
other. The bottom line, however, (if there IS a bottom line), is
that the satisfaction of loving another with all of one's heart and
soul, and the inner knowing that another life has been enhanced
by this emotional "sacrifice," there is no better conclusion to
draw than this: Any love given or shared returns tenfold to the one who walks in the footsteps of love's magnificent essence....

 

 

TOO LATE TO LIVE IN THE MOMENT

11-9-88... a song by Neil Diamond
is playing on the radio as I write this... Play Me


Have you ever in your life had a certain
regret, one that, when a song reminds you of
your neglect of a loved one, tears your soul
apart?.....Tears at your emotional "strings"
with a relentless vengeance...A regret that
consumes your very soul, so much so that
your emotions become "numb" to the pain.
I don't think there is a more barren,
panicky feeling than that of the realization that
it is too late to "live in the moment"; Unable to
repair what was broken, or to find what was lost.
It is then when you realize that physically,
a loved one is no longer in your life, and emotionally,
you are haunted by the memories that will cease to ever
fade away... *Kelly W. Pavese

 

 

I WALK IN SILENCE THROUGH THE DOOR

June, 2009 - a poem I wrote for Jennifer, Sheridan's Mom,

now in a convalescent center, after her car accident


I walk in silence through the door
And throw my car keys on the floor.
Haunting thoughts I can't erase
Consume me as I leave this place.
When I look into your vacant eyes
Your soul seems, somehow, in disguise.
I sit and start to reminisce
Back to when you weren't like this.
Back to when you talked and smiled
Laughed and lived your life in style.
Since your wreck, so much has changed
So many lives, now rearranged.
For no one had a single clue
The plans that fate had made for you.
Plans that put your life on hold
And became this tragic story, told.
Though we're drowning in confusion,
I can only draw this one conclusion:
If we hold fast to the notion
That prayer can set our faith in motion,
Soon we'll find that when we call,
Our prayers are answered after all....
"What we pray for in the end,
Is to share our lives once more, with Jen
She's a mother, daughter, sister, friend
Let her second chance at life begin..."

 

 

KARMA

Karma is the classic ideology of "what goes around, comes around"; indeed, more often than not, Karma shows its face when we least expect it; when we think our negative, sometimes harmful actions have eluded us, have allowed us to escape unpunished, we're suddenly thrown into the abyss of Karma's “payback”; when we think our good deeds have gone unnoticed, we find ourselves face to face with the wonderful rewards and acknowledgements that only Karma is able to bestow upon us. Karma tends to show its face not immediately nor instantly; ironically, when our past actions, whether good or bad, have slipped away from our memory, almost forgotten, Karma will inevitably appear, to inflict its punishments on the evil or pay its rewards to the Godly. That is one thing that is certain in this life, the one thing that can never be disputed, ignored or denied. It is one piece in the puzzle of the mystery of life, almost the meaning of life in and of itself. For Karma, created by the Highest of Powers, never wavers in its intention.

                      Kelly Wynne Pavese (June, 2011)

 

 

 

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