pieces of me.

no lying converges
abandoned by family
he came along

willing, she loved
yielding, she wondered

anguish reaching years
his counsel tearing
desert hearts apart

tattered dress seams
left wholly unclean

brutally honest mind
history resists mending
living among rubble

April/May 2018

personal musings unleashed.

thoughts from mid June 2018

As of late i have been thinking. Endlessly the wheel rotates and nothing new is generated. My therapist called it rumination. And typically rumination has led to increased anxiety.

My anxiety is spiked. Last weekend i ran to the White Mountains. Last night i ran to Prospect Hill, to watch the sunset over Mount Wachusett.

The end was fiery.

Soon those sunsets will be a permanent reality. Life is changing. Again. Hopefully for happier memories.

A new home is on the horizon. My phoenix. My vision ripening.

This home sits across the street from a working farm. Soon my mornings will be greeted by crowing and clucking and baaaaahing. Words i can understand. Their bleetings a welcome greeting.

And i will be taking music lessons. The past homeowners are leaving behind a piano. My mother always talked of how she wanted to learn to play. She was comforted by her regrets. I learned wishes are useless unless you move to make them real.

(All the photos were taken by my daughter while i drove obeying all rules. Unlike this poor fellow or gal.)

Update: i am moved in. On Monday, July 2, 2018, boxes of stuff were dropped off. Time to unpack. So far, my mood is stable. I am ridiculously happy…

July 2nd’s sunset. Mild. Predictable. Like clockwork… i am.

personal musings unleashed

who is responsible? for me… and there is no blame to lay… early the birds chirp. have you ever heard a grumpy bird? not me… and there is no shame today… all ready to plan my day… all these baby steps, these horrid thoughts shed…

(woah, guilt, back off, this is space to spread cheer… your not welcome here…)

my greatest joy to date are all the wonderful people i met at the homeless shelter… witness women struggle and that was the place all my depression and anxiety was shed… found spiritual friends, our souls, a union… our lives, a chorus sung, entwined around a root cause… all else is ignorant complaints surrounding insecurities… playing arrogant games, leveling up our status on the backs of others… who we rise to shout down… how do we think we are better to shine as a star rather than a fellow man? this me, has gleaned wisdom, to spread my cheer…

i no longer look outward but inward and there peace resides and all the world’s negativity slides… i become the stairs to climb and reach my hand down… help my sister find her contentment… buried beside her self… she cries… the bird dead… he shivers… quietly i revive each… not in revolution but in finding solutions and working towards a common goal… no angry bird survives. no angry person thrives…

you breed strife in anger… let the melody ring… freedom is a just cause… a mind at peace is priceless… so sisters join hands and the homeless find a home in my heart.

missing.

how can i miss
what i never had
you ask
but i did have you
and still possess

the words spilled
on my dress
the magic marker
highlights the stars
spread under the hem

this horizon
never ending
we agree to never
wash our hands
again -your grin

wiped clean by tide
a rinse cycle failure
and the poison drunk
as one forever
unto our death

in obedience we sunk

relief.

The slow waken

awaiting…

the sparrow’s chirp, Arrives!

a glint of sunlight
contemplates you
through curtains, closed
once star’s faint light

now

the realizing
you made it through
the dark night…
your quaken soul, survives.

close.

rather distant
we no longer speak
God and i broke up

last night
silence spoke for me
tears to cleanse

the past futile
my arms too short
to reach wrongs

committed by closeness
pain hurts when joined
by love. peace and joy…

being. entwined.

All of life is not misery. It just feels of late, a cloud hovers. Suicide blaring red letters across the skies, as if to tempt the coward.

For me, WordPress was never about publishing a book. The issue of publishing a book are the words forever etched into time. I rebel against such a thought. I strive to be free of this world. Why would i lock up my soul to mere pages? My desire exists beyond the confines of any mind.

So WordPress becomes an outlet to release my crazy thoughts. A cathartic exercise. Skimming the surface, I fear going deeper. What lurks there most would tremble, be repulsed, or worse, not understand. I feel lonely enough with these thoughts, without comments overheard. To those who don’t believe hell exists, welcome.

My gift is to burn my poems. Send them as ash to the Creator, in hopes they bring fresh beginnings. This present life has enough sorrow without my permanently adding to the drear and desperation so many witness and feel. Second-hand emotions are lethal.

My prayer is future generations will be afforded a pleasant, happy life. Absent of mine.

All of life is not misery. This too shall recover. A new skin revealed, to dress the wounds. A phoenix rises on the horizon.

writing towards sanity

why would anyone ever acknowledge they might be beyond sanity? even stranger, to thank another, for seeing your reality?

Reality: a place to avoid. Hurt exists there. Not in my world. I am immune. Oh! once i was hurt. well, plenty of times…

then i ran away where friends frolic in my dreams. Glad your here…

and if you should go
need space to rearrange
the spell i cast
my heart understands
for my reality
but a dream, can still hurt.