Reset –

 “And falling’s just another way to fly.” ― Emilie Autumn
Once in a life, an experience will happen that leaves us utterly, breathlessly, completely reborn. Whatever it was before, the life that exists in this present is a catalytic mix of creative and destructive forces, a physical and spiritual hodgepodge of elements that are made new by their interaction. However forced together and fused…I am new. Not wholly unlike the previous, but still unknown to any who knew me before. Given that, there also breathes a creature that’s been exposed to numerous life changing events, and there my friends, is where I find myself this morning. I’ve no clue who I am, where I’m going, or how the hell I got here. The events that led to this are not important, every person has pain that no other will understand, and comparisons are irrelevant, except perhaps to understand that we all have them. I compare this experience to a free-fall, things speed by and my only concern is that I’ll forget to pull the rip cord. Sometimes I want to hasten the inevitable, sometimes I want to slow down and enjoy the ride. Right now, I’ve tucked my arms in close to my sides and faced the future. My skin ripples with wind and I’m screaming, half out of crazy release and half out of enjoyment. If you happen to see a blur, don’t worry, it’s just me and by the time you realized it, I’ll be very, very, far off.
 First published in Opinionsofeye.com

Exception –

“I cannot be bound to the confines of your rules. I am the exception to them.”
Truth Devour, Wantin  
 “Exceptions are not proof of the old rule; they can also be a harbinger of a new one.”
jennifer-sixx

We were together for years it seems

but those days are just part of a dream

 
 
Heaven sent but hell bound
 
for my blood scent a female hound
 
 
 
Things left a confusing scene
 
broken scars all part of the sheen
 
Your memory still at midnight prevails
for all that is wrong, it still leaves trails
 
No more tears, their long gone
buried in the shadows of woman’s song
When the afternoon’s sun turns to nights wrath, I’m left with nothing. But God.
There is way that seems right to man, in my broken mind it’s a fallacy. But God.
Lust consumes and passions lead on into the gray of a twilight future. But God.
In vain chasing the white clouds that bring relief from this insanity. But God.
But even the high stacks of fortune’s thievery leave me alone. But God.
No way out of this green mile of hell’s gauntlet, cheered on by devils. But God.
In the desperate flames, drums of throbbing nights beat my soul. But God.
But God
will destroy contradiction
will make a way of escape
will break sadness with a smile

will set the solitary in a family.

 

First published in Opinionsofeye.com

10192013

 

Outside Night –

 “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” – Plato
love-pray-hopee

I’m hiding in this darkness so long
That I don’t remember light.
I thought I’d open a window and see
What lives outside the night.
But on the glance of what should be hope,
I was blinded by the ray.
I never knew that light could

cause me this much pain.
But its warmth had a touch and
A sight of what could be,
I was still scared by the pain of knowing
That I really wasn’t free. 

The prison I was locked in is
A cage of my own design.
Only I could use a key of faith
One had left for me to find.

Breaking the hardened seal
of my sepulchered life,
I blinked back tears at
What’s outside night. 


Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
06262010

The Wind – Fellowship of the wind –

“It’s the questions we can’t answer that teach us the most. They teach us how to think. If you give a man an answer, all he gains is a little fact. But give him a question and he’ll look for his own answers.”

 

I could feel the strength of the wind.
Fresh, dark, mystical wind.
On the shadowed side of the steep mountains,
clouds hovering, the wind teasing,
making smoke tails.
Strange feeling, exhilarating yet,
peaceful, almost entrancing,
the wind in my hair.
Smells, fresh, moist, sounds of a tree,
a falling comrade in the green forest,
all carried by the wind.
How is it that I fit in this mystery?
How is it I’m taken by this wind?
Like a seed carried away from my past,
by an ever present but constantly changing wind,
Dropping me pleasantly down
to finish my here and now.
Brother wind and I take flight.



Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
10022011

Cold water, Dry run – Heal the wounds of yesterday –

“Pain feels like a fast stab wound to the heart. But then healing feels like the wind against your face when you are spreading your wings and flying through the air! We may not have wings growing out of our backs, but healing is the closest thing that will give us that wind against our faces.”  – C. JoyBell C.

Trying hard to find water in a dry land. A parched, dry, burning throat tortures me. My lips, peel like mud flakes baked by the noon heat. Life was here, now, only the memory of life conveyed in the carved, hard mud of me, a dry lake. Then a soft wind blows, the temperature drops slowly, a coolness invades, and the clouds gather promising a new thing is on its way. Soft drops escape at first, slowly building a faceless mob. Each drop makes a mark, dimpling the ground. The little craters overflow and begin to form a growing conglomeration of streaming water alliances, gathering momentum and finding their way to the thirsty lake, filling the deepest cracks first.

 
Notice the deepest cracks are the ones first filled with the life-giving water. Likewise, notice how the deepest hurts are the first healed when the fulfillment of your hearts desire comes to pass. It’s a beautiful to see life restored. There is a fulfillment in hope and contentment after suffering. It feels so good, like cold water after a hot run.
Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
08172011

No Fear –

“Bran thought about it. ‘Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?’
‘That is the only time a man can be brave,’ his father told him.”
George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones 
Noctturnalromance

 

Walking towards the house, I just finished spending another evening with my church youth group. On the way something sinister stirred in the shadows. No sound, just glimpses of dark figures, darker than black, accompanied by a deep foreboding fear. Forcing myself along the path, all my nerves on end, I scramble to find a weapon worthy of this opponent. My fists were no match, guns likewise. I needed something without form to battle the unseen opponent. Words, that will do, they have no shape and find you even when your hiding. I’ve got the weapon, now which words? The pastors taught me words exist that are extraordinary, having more weight and value than common words, words that were in themselves different. The most powerful of these are the words that looked ordinary, but are changed by my belief about the source and effectiveness of them, i.e. they gained value in this battle by virtue of the faith I placed in them. It wasn’t that faith did it, because I had to actually use the words, but it was faith that gave them the edge to cut the dark. I read this somewhere, “You light a lamp for me. The Lord, my God, lights up my darkness.” Repeating this I tried to understand how to fight the fight that is not fought with fists but with belief. I believed that Big Daddy (that’s what I called God) let me find those words as advice. Fear has torment and I was always afraid, so this whole thing was a training ground to overcome fear and learn how to fight what is called by others as “the good fight”. The victory to press past this feeling and not turn around and run, was not a gallant one at all, it was horribly clumsy and vacillated between wanting to run and wanting to face this fear. All said and done, I made it through, I didn’t die and I learned a valuable lesson that equipped me for the rest of the craziness called my life.
Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

Imminent Mortality –

“I want to tell you what it was really like to think death is imminent, but I can’t. It’s a taste in your mouth. And an emptiness.” – Aaron Huey

 

 

 Sneaking thing this black specter, writhing in my brain,
Coloring my bright light with shades of never
Bringing the death of my flesh
In the missing of your gray eyes, pushing in my stomach,
grabbing solitary and smearing me with earnest
Bringing the death of my heart
Swirling decisions in red clouds, failing in my heart,
a tempting success erased in a hurried smudge

Bringing the death of my work
Jumping off castles of white cliffs,
flapping frantically in the forest of the unknown
Bringing the death of my belief

First published in Opinionsofeye.com