Solitude

The hour before sun

rise, the furniture

rests. The house

doesn't weep but

cradles me in
its

darkness; before the light

comes. It'll

moan with desire, holding you

out there.

Cant

alone, watching
people sit in their
comfy chairs
sipping their joy
from a cup;
when I notice
no one cares
to watch me.

Apropos

The abrupt slope
at the foot of echoes
chanting, "No!"
-- halts her
galloping feat -- Just
seconds before
losing her shoes.

My Soul's Instinct

Every breath my lungs fight to take betrays my soul's instinct to find a way out; whether it be with alcohol, some varying form of dissociation, or a hard collision with a tree by the side of the road is of little importance, thankfully.  I've fought these demons before -- but I thought the birth of my son 17 years ago had saved me from ever having to fight them again. I was wrong.

It began six weeks ago or so when one sunny afternoon as I sat at my desk working on whatever project was at hand, I caught an ever brief glimpse at the horizon's slow descend into darkness.  It didn't really register within me at the time what was coming because that horizon hadn't come into view in so long. Looking back now, I should have stopped everything and walked away to take a break.  I've been saying for months that I needed to take a vacation from life and check into a hotel room for a few days and just write.  Since there aren't any hotels that allow guest to stay with only a payment of a thank you and a smile -- I was unable to take that break I instinctively knew I needed. Instead, I busied myself with more and more projects; working toward my goal of saving the world -- forgetting myself.

Within the last four weeks I have googled, "how to commit suicide and make it look like an accident" twice.  As I said earlier, luckily my soul's instinct to escape doesn't seem to matter how it escapes, so long as it escapes.  So, I make a drink involving bourbon in some fashion and put my headphones on blasting Nirvana, or Ozzy, or Seether, or anything loud and hard -- escaping, if only for a moment or two.  Sadly, with drama lurking in every corner -- the reprieve is short lived and not nearly cathartic enough. Defining the drama is unnecessary for this current piece -- drama is drama no matter what shape or form it takes that we can all identify with. When the horizon has darkened, being blindsided by an insensitive bastard's discarded gum on the sidewalk -- now on my shoe -- can feel like the end of the world. That, and I had to put my dog to sleep last week. Drama. Is. Drama. Is. Drama.

Monday, August 11, 2014 at 7:08 pm I read my first post about Robin Williams.  Within 10 minutes I somehow knew his death was not an accident.  I knew it.  I knew it with every fiber of my being because I saw me in his story.  I saw the masks he wore, though very different than my own.  My very first thought when I came to the realization of what had happened was, "how can I be expected to fight this battle when the genius Robin Williams couldn't fight it?" Selfish? Yes.  But it's what I thought -- it's where I am in my life.

This week has been difficult.  The people of the world lost in conflict and hate and chaos -- digging a hole the size of itself. There I am, standing on the side of the ever growing hole, ready to leap, but I don't. I -- in my weakened, fragile, heavy state find myself reaching into the hole to pull others out.  This is both my blessing and my curse. On a very instinctual level, I know it's something I have to do; and yet, the weight of it all is suffocating me.  Robin Williams leapt into the hole.  Will his leap pull some others out?  Will it cause others to leap with him?  Will it cause me to leap with him?

The conversation has been started, but it will fade away like everything else that is hard -- and nothing will have been resolved. How do we begin shrinking the hole, thereby reducing the amount of souls it sucks in? Why is it that I have reached the bottom of this piece without once using the words suicide or mental illness? Both words have impacted my life -- so many lives for way too long and yet, stigma is still attached to them making it laborious to even softly utter them. The Band-aid was an ingenious invention -- but we, as a whole have got to stop slapping them on a broken society and look for ways to mend and heal what is killing us... what is killing me.   My soul's instinct is to build a bridge of unity for the world -- and yet, here I am falling apart.  Ironic.  Yes. In order to help others I have to help myself, I know this... and yet... I feel lost.

Life and Stuff

Last night in a fit of tears and rage
calling out --
"If you are on my side, NOW is the time to show it."

Ready to drive
with a bottle of bourbon in one hand
the gear shift in the other.

Fast and Furious
real life drama
with a fiery crash ending, relieved.

You answered me without words;
but with something more--
falling asleep in a blanket of peace

Waking up with the taste
of You on my breath--
God is love.

#spirituality #dreams #God #suicidal

lame games

what pushing too hard looks like.  crappy poetry... reflects crappy circumstances... where life is never fair, and waiting is eternal. someday will be one day -- if even in a hundred years.  I'll wait. I'll wait because there is nothing else to do. I'll wait for time to catch up with love ... .... ......

a beautiful picture of her

she shared in a click--

in a click, like a bic lighter

my heart fell, on fire.

grateful for flickr

making a few clicks of my own,

wiping out my wipe out, 

when my heart fell, on fire 

    

                                           . . .

Occupation

Her big girl panties heaved
out the window,
twirling her dress: spinning heads
          as she passes
          flashing smiles.
The chess board
collecting dust
in the corner of her room.

Voice Recording

Something I wrote for my Principled Problem Solving (PPS) scholars class last fall. We were to write and record (in under 3 minutes) a piece on how we live with integrity... This was my piece.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Weeds

Thank You, Ma Maya

Disguising the tears,
the rain proclaimed
it was an awesome day
to die. The sun
swept the tears, subtly
slinging rainbows
between the clouds.

#MayaAngelou

Loneliness

stuck in extended
      shallowness
       like glass
         blown
          too long:
       ignored
  in an open fire,
wasting to embers. 

a dream. YOU were there

I had a dream last night that's baffling me.  It's weird and I can't stop thinking about it.....  about you.

 I really needed to get away, and just be by myself for a few days.  You offered to make arrangements for me, why? NO IDEA! So, I pack a bag and take off for the highway, feeling free and happy.  I get to the hotel, and it's quite nice.  I go in, and the hotel attendant says he's been expecting me and takes me down a long hall and out a back door.  In the back of the hotel there is a new high rise being built.  In the middle of the building there is a bed and tv... no walls no bathroom, no privacy... Construction workers everywhere, but they are getting ready to leave for the day.  I can see the entire city from the room, but it's a crappy city, not much to look at. I refuse to stay in the room, but the attendant tells me I have to.  Why I stayed, I don't know. I do many things I shouldn't -- and miss many opportunities I should have seized.  Anyway.... I get on the bed and turn on the tv.  You walk in, smirking... saying you were glad I decided to stay, now you can keep an eye on me.  You sit down on the bed and... well

 Don't know what would've happened next cause I woke up before I could find out...  FUCKKKKK!
 Not my favorite dream of you.... but certainly intriguing.

Shhhh

Being Bad is feelin' way too fucking good!  I do do it well, though. (psstt, it is just an electronic smoke, does that make it less bad????)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Stillborn

the road to creation, long--
the current being so much different
than before.
on the cusp of his birth
The heart, stopped
The voice, silenced
The soul, flatlined.
The new beginning
buried before the final
preparations begun.

the anticipation was grand.

Coming........

Every time she walks through the door
she leaves
with weak knees,
knowing she’ll come once more

---thoughts before leaving---

The Seduction

The pen, swirling in curves and lines
up and down, side to side
unruly and wild --
Thrusting with words
penetrating
deeper --
Deep inside, you quiver at the very thought
of bringing life to that which is caught
within the pages of my Trapper Keeper.

-----------Sigh------------

The Tao of what is

it is what it is,
is said often; but
often times my is
is confused with yours, it is
a different is, that I never
intended to own
in the first place.

the is, is quite confusing:
so, it is what it is
only up to the point
of a mutual understanding
of the is being referred to.

the is that is yours
made an is full of pain
and for this
I am truly sorry, because what is
is not to be taken at face value
apparently.

#ahaMoments #thoughts, #life #philosophy

Running Shoes

Millions of miles traveled
All on foot, self propelled;

Almost two thousand pairs of shoes
In over sixteen thousand days, where
Running wears them out, so fast.

Twenty four months
Give or take
Destination discovered... ?
Time will tell
Four corners held by beams of steel
Walls of colors painted with the breath
Of a kiss,
A thought,
A mood,
An inkling,
Or the contractions of climaxes yet made.

My head, spinning
At the ever changing colors,
Enchanting,
All encompassing
Before I realize
I hear the
Smacking of lips
Her walls, swallowing
Mine.
Perhaps a good place to rest?
For a time...

The Rack Room is on speed dial
Just in case.

About Time

Hands in lap, as they should be
watching you talk to me
posture of fear drapes your shoulders
heavy like boulders;

waiting for my gavel to drop
not quite knowing the type of crop
my garden grows, but please know
a pedestal I will never tow.

Against the resistance
at my persistence
giving me a half smile, chin down
eyes full of questions, answered on some dawn.

Thinking of time, eyes locked
on some distant rhyme knocked
out just for you, hoping it will
be me, with my lips being sealed.

A bolt flashes through me
screaming, "MAKE YOUR MOVE DUMMY!"
thinking better of it, I move as if the clock
read yesterday when destiny made me flock
To You, in the first place.

out to lunch

chewing the curd
to a liquid where it's swallowed--
becoming absorbed