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.

thoughts.

blow in
nice and breezy
day turns dark
brews a storm
life perpetual
conditional love
lying under the oak tree
grown weak
with malice towards peace
only acorns understand
unconditional power
from soil undercover

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.

depression (couldn’t save the world.)

Yeah! It is sunny outside the window.

pull the blinds
shut the door
don’t need your happy -stuff
round here any more

saw the news
felt nothing
it is how i thought
i could
crumpled in a ball
rope hanging high
with no strength to pull
a trigger or knot

No! It is dark inside this thought.

(All around me. News. Shut off the talking heads… what the hell does any body know, any how. This guilty feeling.

Go ahead, enjoy your day… wrapped up in dreary and no relief in sight.)

relief.

Time, a trusted friend, teaches those mourning, to question and speak out loud. Over and over, Time welcomes Guilt, Anger, and Despair.

Yet, suicide survivors cannot begin to understand… how will peace ever exist in this chaos? Just one word, thought or picture, sends us in a spiral. Those days become wrapped in Sorrow. Then Relief appears. Days saunter on and we learn progress takes small steps.

Our eyes lift and grow wide… a visit. Time, our best friend. Patiently, Time sits, listens for a while. I let Time’s silence be silent, until i can hold it in no longer! I pray to release chains… memories have become a prison. My wishes, a disease. Confusion sets in.

Time please forgive and pardon this aching soul. I beg Relief to visit. A stranger far too long.

💜j

Knock, Knock…

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

What news!! We are making an offer on a house today. And it is absolutely, mind-blowing gorgeous. This rock wall, which Massachusetts is infamously famous, is even more magnificent then this picture depicts. In fact, my heart barely blips on the screen when i look at this photo.

The rock is 20 feet tall and looks west towards Mount Wachusett. There is a perfect view perched atop this mighty fortress. A quick stroll down the road and this…

Transformation

Access life
as if, before the storm,
no longer remains.

Let me know
mold me in your image
pull the strings
sewn into my back
i live to please you
in this moment
watch the stars dance
in this night of black

How can we experience triumph?

Theodicy is an intellectual understanding of suffering. The reconstruction of self and time, remain elusive, but attainable.

We experience our new selves physically, emotionally and spiritually through time. If we fail to let go of the past, it will repeatedly reappear as a ghost in our mind. Our goal is to allow whatever was, become history. If we fail this task, we invite misery to make a home in our hearts.

Life has become exceptionally difficult. Changes abound and more changes intend to roll out.

i feel
every thing too deeply
your lack

makes me think
it is best
we never speak

what my words
fail to say
blooms from a body

drawn to move
sway to sway
in utter decay

all confusion ensues
have to let go
cannot care anymore.

take my breath, too

Need to take a break. Feeling twisted up inside. The world is draining me of any sanity i had left but grateful for this beautiful painting that drew my breath and his generosity to let me combine it with my words. The poem keeps expanding. And changing. But for now it rests as is. ❤️🕊

fated splash

boulder or pebble

matters not

heave the edge

saturate the salt rock

interwoven crystal path

we walk upon

take my hand and lead the way

where hearts rest in peace