Tag: suicide

Crow Caw

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well lived. Your silhouette -mine snow flutters upon the earth We stand our umbilical cord severed as God turns His head I ran away to never look back and you got lost along the way our whiter than snow -bled.

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Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived. word orgies leave us naked empty days and nights your feasting strips humility scraps of audacity linger-longer recognize Christ? Standing outside, admiring Joan Miro’s outdoor sculpture… Miro’s Chicago we were invited into The Chicago Temple by a passerby. It was absolutely beautiful inside. Ornate wood and…

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Is it the curse of a new year that begs us to introspection and compare ourselves to others? I honestly am having a love/hate relationship with all of life. I am genuinely happy i am here, breathing and writing and reading other’s blogs. I am also genuinely sad at how little i can do to…

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My bookshelf

Yes, these friends are finally being packed away. Today. Suffocating, perhaps. I like to think i am giving them a break. And me too. Its been a few years since I read them, but before I stack them, lovingly put aside, i extract a few thoughts to pass your way… I never promised you a…

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i’m lying in fog so thick only voices coming from the other room remind me we are on vacation. literally across the street relentless ocean waves are pushing me to move and i lie here waiting for them to drown.

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going through this frenzy purchasing books every title imaginable about suicide and why, these voices reside build a home, hoping to rest -a while. A while later, it all starts again, depression, anxiety, r.d. laing… this divided self reads jung and admires van Gogh the Plath’s and Woolf’s of this world we meet-up, browse universal…

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Your hysteria -predictable you’ve not sailed this boat before. Have you? God and i -we aren’t talking. Lost, between the sea and me desires drowning beneath the skin. a slow burn.

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Remembering childhood days running home for dinner playing legos with your brother, Why’d it have to end? What shadows crept behind the sun washed out memories, lurk, no amount of fight breaks their will, rushing to and fro, cause your world to explode -no running home for dinner or reading Ranger Rick -no your running…

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I told my daughter, today, she was a tornado. And she answered. Your worse. Me? Yes. You. Your a hurricane, tsunami, earthquake, all rolled into one. One some thing. A thunderstorm that never ends.

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