Tag: anger

Tug O War – Playing Games With Anger

“If you are losing a tug-of-war with a tiger, give him the rope before he gets to your arm. You can always buy a new rope.” – Gunther, Max

“The best fighter is never angry.” ― Lao Tzu

I grabbed the knotted cloth with my hand, hung on tight and shook it in front on my ever willing mutt, Thor. He responded by latching on and shaking it so vigorously I nearly lost hold. I teased him for a moment, and then used him for a floor mop because despite my best efforts, he wouldn’t let go. This made me laugh and smile, and even video tape him for a YouTube post. Millions have done the same thing, making the rage of the hunt and nurture of the kill a funny moment, inspiring it and laughing only because they controlled that instinct. That’s how it is with my anger.

Those who are comfortable with it, shake the rope, knowing they’re in control. It took me a long time, with my temper flaring at every waved knotted circumstance, to understand this response. What I did in these conflicts was reflect the built up anger in me. After many years of testing and fighting every challenge, it is enough. I quit. I’m tired of my anger being used against me. I’m holding back my anger, and resisting the challenges, leaving the players scratching their head, “Your not behaving like you should, why aren’t you pulling back?” Not every fight needs fighting and not every challenge needs answering. So, that little rope your waving, the rope of conflict, jealousy, anger, or whatever it is you choose to challenge me with, keep it, I’m not participating in your game. I’m aware that to control myself is my biggest challenge and to live in peace, following peace, is the biggest advantage.

Reckless – A careless attitude wrecks lives

“Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with those who are reckless with yours.”
“Let me say that the path I did take for a brief period of my life …was a path of quiet rebellion, of a little experimentation of a darker side of my confusion in a confusing world, lost in the midst of finding my identity.” – Jennifer Capriati

 

Reckless, breaking through the glass of life’s treasure

you shatter the trinkets with careless power

Reckless, you trash the dwelling of those in need
sending all askew, your feelings are sour

Reckless, you amble forward with no concern
Laying yourself down by the hour

Reckless, seeking only to feel what you lost
Now in the wreckage you cower

Also published in Broowaha 
1101111


Reckless – A careless attitude wrecks lives

“Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with those who are reckless with yours.”
“Let me say that the path I did take for a brief period of my life …was a path of quiet rebellion, of a little experimentation of a darker side of my confusion in a confusing world, lost in the midst of finding my identity.” – Jennifer Capriati

 

Reckless, breaking through the glass of life’s treasure

you shatter the trinkets with careless power

Reckless, you trash the dwelling of those in need
sending all askew, your feelings are sour

Reckless, you amble forward with no concern
Laying yourself down by the hour

Reckless, seeking only to feel what you lost
Now in the wreckage you cower

Also published in Broowaha 
1101111


The Hermit Chronicles: Cup of Conversation

“Not all those who wander are lost.”
“Some things were better lost than found.”
annasasylum

Lost is good, that’s when I find places that appear on the horizon of experience, places that are exciting, painful, and perhaps enlightening. Being lost and alone sounds terrible, but these are exciting lands and through wandering I pass by many old and tattered road signs that point out toward a different way. Beyond addiction’s sign, I see the detritus of the many who travel here strewn about and the bones of those who scarcely made the turn on that road before they died choking on the false hope of that distant city. Violence, that sign bears holes shot through with blame and anger against foes seen and unseen, real and surreal. Down that path I hear echos of private wars, fought more often in that travelers head, then on the road itself. Fame, this sign is hard to see, covered with thick strands of luck and persistence. Looking far down that road I see no one, I only hear crowds gathering and yelling praises at the swollen headed partakers of that way. I love to pass by those exits and the many crisscrossing and circuitous forked roads called psychiatry and religion. Bah, I turn my back on these and wander through my solitary confinement. It’s there I’m comfortable and being lost gives me a reason to go back over my favorite parts. Don’t feel sorry for me as you see my shambled figure shuffling, my face overgrown with disconcerting opinion. I’m happy here, but wait, would you like to share a cup of conversation, speaking without words over my fire? I didn’t think so, you have your eyes set on the exit signs…you’ll be back though, I’ll keep a light on for you.
Related Post: The Hermit Chronicles: Cup of Conversation
 Related Post: The Hermit Chronicles: Fallen Trees
Related Post: The Hermit Chronicles: Aimless 
Related Post: The Hermit Chronicles: Hounds  
Related Post: The Hermit Chronicles: Unbelonging 

Also published in Broowaha
Also published in Life As A Human
041113

It’s Not About Me – Depersonalizing Offense

“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems — not people; to focus your energies on answers — not excuses.” – William Arthur Ward
“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.” 

cemetaryhill
What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? These things come to life in me when I see or experience pain and injustice. Life offers a great helping of suffering that can ruin me if I keep it inside and take it personal. Not every experience has to do with me, people are who they are, regardless of who they interact with. If I respond to them from the point of view that it’s ME, then I respond with self-criticism, hate, and anger. These situations are likely not about me, they are, however, showing me a weakness in my character that is there regardless of the offense or offender. I understand when they hurt me, their behavior exists apart from me, it happens regardless of my presence in the matter. By putting aside the personalization of these offenses, I am able to respond to that situation with the attitudes that set me apart from anger and hate. These attitudes include patience, giving good in return for bad, and living in a continuing joy that exists regardless of favorable circumstances. Seeing these, the offender will likely suffer more at seeing my success and happiness than if I continued to validate their actions by responding with the only thing they know: more anger, more confrontation, more violence, and more hate. There is time and a place for confrontation, even for violent retribution, but for now, I’ll take that punch on the chin, turn and smile, and live my life to its fullest. What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? To never take personal the stupidity and selfish actions of others and to respond, not in kind but, with the best revenge, a life well lived.

It’s Not About Me – Depersonalizing Offense

“It is wise to direct your anger towards problems — not people; to focus your energies on answers — not excuses.” – William Arthur Ward
“How much more grievous are the consequences of anger than the causes of it.” 

cemetaryhill
What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? These things come to life in me when I see or experience pain and injustice. Life offers a great helping of suffering that can ruin me if I keep it inside and take it personal. Not every experience has to do with me, people are who they are, regardless of who they interact with. If I respond to them from the point of view that it’s ME, then I respond with self-criticism, hate, and anger. These situations are likely not about me, they are, however, showing me a weakness in my character that is there regardless of the offense or offender. I understand when they hurt me, their behavior exists apart from me, it happens regardless of my presence in the matter. By putting aside the personalization of these offenses, I am able to respond to that situation with the attitudes that set me apart from anger and hate. These attitudes include patience, giving good in return for bad, and living in a continuing joy that exists regardless of favorable circumstances. Seeing these, the offender will likely suffer more at seeing my success and happiness than if I continued to validate their actions by responding with the only thing they know: more anger, more confrontation, more violence, and more hate. There is time and a place for confrontation, even for violent retribution, but for now, I’ll take that punch on the chin, turn and smile, and live my life to its fullest. What does it take to drive the anger and hate from my heart? To never take personal the stupidity and selfish actions of others and to respond, not in kind but, with the best revenge, a life well lived.

The Violation of…

“… you don’t have to wait for someone to treat you bad repeatedly. All it takes is once, and if they get away with it that once, if they know they can treat you like that, then it sets the pattern for the future.” – Jane Green, Bookends 

You shout at me, I try to ignore what you do
Your always there, I try to behave
You won’t let me be alone, I don’t want a shadow
You don’t let me talk, I’m too loud
You will never give up, I try to run
You make me afraid, I make excuses
You intimidate my friends, I try to explain
You hide and peek at me, I can’t know where you are
You intrude on my privacy, I just want to be alone
You threaten my existence, I just want to be safe
You make me do things, I’m embarrassed to say
You sink lower in your life, I watch you fall
You struggle to bring me down, I struggle to breathe
You will not win, I’ll survive
You will not change me, I’ll be hard
You will not violate me again, I will kill

Also Published in Broowaha
12152010

Unrelenting

“The basic thing nobody asks is why do people take drugs of any sort? Why do we have these accessories to normal living to live? I mean, is there something wrong with society that’s making us so pressurized, that we cannot live without guarding ourselves against it?” – John Lennon

pow-pow

Coming in a sudden burst, forcing itself, peace a detrimental casualty
Pressure from expectation, performance under intense scrutiny

Unrelenting, the pressure builds
Unforgiving, the anger burns
Undelivered, the solace capitulates

Closing my eyes makes me a target, can’t hide from the squeeze
speaking in halted phrases, tongue on fire with words that tease

Undeniable, the pain is exquisite
Unbreakable, the vice of lies
Unchanging, the facades of players

Praying for release, the knotted feeling in my stomach grows
a fist pushing its way up my throat, agony in my neck it shows

Unprovoked, the attacks keep coming
Unstable, love’s foundations destroyed
Unanswered, questions form opinions

Where is the breaking point of my brilliant mind and tenuous sanity?
What will happen when it all falls, without conscience, no lucidity?

Unrelenting acquisition of carefully sifted fantasies 

09182012

The Specter Of Love

“The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.”― Mahatma Gandhi

Be advised that I take artistic license in the expressions and creations I present in my posts. Forewarned is forearmed, proceed at your own risk. 

Freakingnews

“Listening for the chirp, the space sounds of my phone
Everything stops when it rings,
My whole body tense, waiting for the vibration of her call
Everything stops when I wait for her
Early morning when it rings, I open my eyes
Everything stops when I wake to her
A text, proclaiming her rejection of me
Everything stops when I understand
She is with my friend, he is fucking her
Everything stops when I kill”
– Everything Stops,  D.M.W. Sager

I take a deep breath. Jealousy. A cruel and unrelenting task master, holding me hostage, threatening my lover with violence. How quickly love turns to anger and hate. How quick the one you love can turn and violate you. Love excels at changing both itself and others. I watch as I leave all I know about myself and life; all my beliefs fall to the wayside as I follow hard after what I “love”. I watch my identity crumble in my pursuit, it consumes me. There’s no escape from its hold, the arms of another fan the flames into white hot tongues of searing pain. I compromise my safety, stepping into the line of fire, nothing will prevent me from protecting my love. It’s not a person that I protect, it’s my feelings. When I find that it’s my love that I follow, not her, conviction binds me. Love is separate in this deranged sense. Love becomes a living entity in me, demanding I make room for it, controlling my actions and thoughts. Love must be constrained by other rules to keep it in check and keep it pure. I must rise above it. Love, pure good and pure evil. It disguises itself, hiding among other feelings and manifesting in the strangest of ways. The vilest thoughts arise out of “love”. Beware of love uncontrolled, it’ll easily lead to destruction, agony, and death. Motives that should be pure, become tainted, then, suddenly, drastically, everything stops.
“Do you know what its like to lie in wait for someone? To settle yourself in the cold drizzle of winter, controlling the shivers, quiet, the gun by your side? Eyes strained to see movement in the blackness, heart pumping from adrenalin of the chase. Do you know what it’s like to wait to kill the one you love?” – The Specter Of Love
Also published in Broowaha Magazine

02272012

Slamming Doors – The sound of violence

“A door slamming makes one jump, but
it doesn’t make one afraid. What one fears
is the serpent that crawls underneath it.” – Collete

“Starting when I was a kid barely four,

I knew the beating was coming

by the sound of a slamming door


Picking myself up from off the cold floor

His bruises held my mind in fear

by the sound of a slamming door


Older now and wiser but still my soul abhors

the awful things that come and anger shown

by the sound of a slamming door”
 – DMW



How can I describe the feeling I get when a door slams? Hundreds of heartbreaking moments all carry that signature. I can tell when lives carry the heat of anger by the condition of the doors. Splintered frames, stripped hinges, door knobs shattered with pieces strewn around the room, the bottom of the door scraping the floor. I’ve locked doors, only to see them broken down by a significant other – be it a drunk father, jealous girlfriend, or some random hell bent soul. The sound impacts me psychologically now. It initiates a vigilance and tense anticipation of impending doom. It makes me mad, really mad, like a rage that crawls over me with it’s claws out. There are doors inside my heart as well. You can’t hear them but I do. Women slam them when they betray me, kids slam them when they reject me, and men slam them when they threaten me. I can’t turn off the feelings quick enough when I’m energized by the sound of the slamming doors. I long to live in peace, and right now, I feel real peaceful but wait, did you hear that? Nooooooooo!!!

Related Post: The Tub