A poem from Mary Oliver entitled “Rage”…
You are the dark song
of the morning;
serious and slow,
you shave, you dress,
you descend the stairs
in your public clothes
and drive away, you become
the wise and powerful one
who makes all the days
possible in the world.
But you were also the red song
in the night,
stumbling through the house
to the child’s bed,
to the damp rose of her body,
leaving your bitter taste.
And forever those nights snarl
the delicate machinery of the days.
When the child’s mother smiles
you see on her cheekbones
a truth you will never confess;
and you see how the child grows–
timidly, crouching in corners.
Sometimes in the wide night
you hear the most mournful cry,
a ravished and terrible moment.
In your dreams she’s a tree
that will never come to leaf–
in your dreams she’s a watch
you dropped on the dark stones
till no one could gather the fragments–
in your dreams you have sullied and murdered,
and dreams do not lie.
“If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong.”
― Masaru Emoto,
Walking through the question marks
Where will I go in this dark?
With the light dimming behind
How will I go being blind?
Screaming in my head, holding the candle near
Where will I go from here?
The path is crooked with cliffs along the way
Fear says never to go but only to stay
When there’s no sight from lack of light there remains no assurance in the steps. My soul’s being torn between ravenous beasts manifested by my torment. Faith, will you save me now? Will you come on the white horse of sanity and redeem my soul? These wasps follow me, stinging me where ever I go. I can hear the buzz of their wings while I sleep. There’s no healing from the swelling injections filled with the puss of their rape. What parts of me have died or are dying? Why can’t I tell? I know that bricks are missing in my wall and deleterious eyes stare at me from the holes. With all of this hell raging in and around me, I call out, as we all do in the foxholes of life, “GOD HELP ME”! He will, but how, it escapes me, but when, it eludes me, and in this moment I hang to what I know from His dealings with me in the past. I know He’ll help me, I know He’ll come, I know I’ll survive and be stronger yet for the next wave of human devils and demon thoughts.
removing them ever so carefully, tenderly,
“Inside it felt like the hardest thing in the world. To just let go, and not pick everything to death. To just let go and enjoy what you had. To just let go and not make everybody around you miserable with your own internal dialogue. To just let go and be happy. So simple. So difficult. So terrifying.” – Laurell K. Hamilton
The blind call the shots, when what’s heard isn’t seen
When I deal with me, it’s never what it seems
Though sight’s not given, still I judge the call
Crazy as it seems, when I can’t see at all
Medicating the pain, shown by blood not red
hoping to numb a shitty feeling, living in my head
Hoping desperately to find, a happy trail this way
Depression makes it hard, to get out of bed today
The movies are seen, and replayed with renewed vigor
Forever playing with, and pulling the hair trigger
Conversations bad when, the mirror won’t talk back
Only one side of me, carries on the attack
I want to sing and not cry, to take me through this time
The song I settle on, isn’t a lullaby
The mirror shuns the man and tears blur the day
The end of life it seems, points to a better way
I’m a dog barking in the night
at things you don’t know are there
A moon shining in the day
on the horizon but so vague
I’m tired of people and the way
along the natural pave
So I sit in the dark
just me and my dog’s bark
Think I’ve lost my nerve
’cause at every noise I stir
Welcome to my nightmare
now it’s you I’ve got to beware
“There is love of course. And then there’s life, its enemy.” – Jean Anouilh
your leaving me there,
Floating on my ocean dream.
Feet run to your kiss, I say farewell to bliss,
Crashing along the windy cliff.
Eyes transfixed on your stare,
of you I must beware,
Chasing me on the rocky edge.
Mind searching for a hint,
your affection leaves no imprint,
Leaping off to fall free.
An albatross on a long flight,
a blind journey with no insight,
Asking “Where will I land?”
Also published in Wingposse, June 2012
“I realize the imperfections in this composition, and I left it so because we’re all imperfect and need to accept the message of who we are and not what they say we are.”
I wish I were clay
then I could change myself
Today I should be this and
tomorrow I should be that
and for the moment
society says I’m fat
But not so long ago and
in other royal cultures so
this was a good to go
But merely because times
have changed and lenses
have different colors
I’m resigned to serving
like slaves in chains
I’ll be your skinny mistress
I am whatever you say I am (Eminem)
and that, by the whims of
a psychotic society
And even in writing if I forget
to dot an I or a comma I relent
of that you’ll never forget
I’ll be forever judged and that
it’s a fact of this life
YOU WILL NEVER BE ACCEPTED
Except by those who understand
that hats turned back and
hats turned to the side
are all a part
of the same ride
“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.”
Some say they’ve went there, to the other side.
That’s what they’ll tell you after they died.
The tickers kick’n and soon I’ll know
Whether this day I’m livin’ is my day to go
What do you do on the way out the door
When what you see, you’ll see no more
About these things I’m curious to ask
tripping the other side of the living mask
So my friends and lovers dear
who I hold both now and there
On the other side will you come with me
and find out what’s beyond that nether sea?
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby