The Fall

“[…] as if the next thing must quickly come along to occupy her, or the abyss might open. What abyss? The abyss that waits for all of us, when all our actions seem futile, when the ability to fill the day seems stalled, and the waiting takes on an edge of dread. ”
Anita Brookner, Latecomers

 

 

I fell. Deep. Down a dark hole. Some call it love, some call it hell. I prefer a nomenclature of a different sort, “Abyss”. I keep falling, there’s no bottom, no end. I throw up ropes hoping they catch on ledges of sanity as I slip past in a free fall. There’s no reason, no understanding of this mystery, and still I fall. Controlling my fall is a crazy act of futility. I spin, float, and turn. Why? When I see her, my soul feels the wind of my descent. Is this free fall into love supposed to be a good thing? I stood on solid ground once, I don’t recall being happy there. Spinning out of control, I find contentment in that I’ll hit bottom one day; this hole will kill me. Does it wish me to be slain at its feet? Still I fall. I watch the faces of companions, wishing I fell for them like this. They are blurs, rushing by, in years that are seconds in the fall. The fall is only a moment, a blink, and yet, an eternal life is born and dies in that moment. Still I fall. It’s peaceful when my body supersedes reality, except for when the touch of my lover crashes through the dream. If she had hope that secured her, then she could rescue me. Still I fall. What’s left as the light grows smaller in my eyes? I smile, warmly feeling the embrace of the fall. It’s a leap that I’ll take again, given a second chance. Or would I? The Abyss waits for us all, will you take the plunge?

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine 

02252012 

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White Noise

“It was the time of year, the time of day, for a small insistent sadness to pass into the texture of things. Dusk, silence, iron chill. Something lonely in the bone.”
Don DeLillo, White Noise 
killedtheinnocentpeople

 

Always company to the old scenes,
a noise it follows,
a voice alone in the streets.
Blankets of sound wrap me tight,
with no comfort noise,
in the blackness of night.
Garbled whispers nothings clear,
except the noise
of failure and then fear
My blurry mind is all full of snow,
white washed noise,
an emery pain makes it glow.
Flipping the channels all in vain,
the hissing noise,
Will come back again.

MMA – Wounds of the Mind

“Even in times of trauma, we try to maintain a sense of normality until we no longer can. That, my friends, is called surviving. Not healing. We never become whole again … we are survivors. If you are here today… you are a survivor. But those of us who have made it through hell and are still standing? We bare a different name: warriors.”
Lori Goodwin 
“What if I lose what little control I have left? I may live in a prison now, but at least I know my way around it.”
Nicole Deese, All for Anna 
My friend, deeply involved in MMA, had a twist break in his knee. He went through many months of painful rehab. Exercises that strengthened not only the knee but the surrounding muscles that supported the knee, possessed every waking hour. All he could think about was being back to normal and doing what he loved, with the same proficiency. He recovered and won several more titles in welter weight MMA. But, what happens when I have a break in my brain? When I can’t do what I used to because of an injury? If it’s not seen, I’ll have no sympathy. My healing process, as I engage life with my mental limp, should warrant the same compassion. Yeah, I appear crazy, and you can’t understand because you can’t see. What if I wore a bandage around my head? Put blood on gauze and covered one eye and bruised my face? Would you then understand mental injury? Ask my vets, my service brothers and sisters…they will tell you of injuries never seen, but agonized over. Take mental wounds seriously friends, acquaintances, and family. If my mental wounds were to be seen, you would be shocked and cry, while I try to gather my spilled insides and make sense of the exploded mess in me.

The Greatest Question

“Don’t you know that I’ll be around to guide you
Through your weakest moments to leave them behind you
Returning nightmares only shadows
We’ll cast some light and you’ll be alright
We’ll cast some light and you’ll be alright for now” – Zero7

Behind all the crazy things men do, in all the tears cried by women, even the thing that Jesus cried out, is this question:

 “Daddddddy whereeeeee arrrrreeeee youuuuuuu?”

My Girl Manny Quinn

“Art and love are the same thing: It’s the process of seeing yourself in things that are not you.” – Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story
thestuffispoison
Pressing my lips to yours…the coolness soon gone with hardened kisses. Inanimate style, making me hard. My hands trace over your glossy skin, swollen to meet my design. My fingers skip across your seams, more oil makes it easy. I carry you to the room, your long hair falling across cheeks blushed with my paint. I fall on you with unrestrained fervor, wild horses in my blood. Turning the music up loud, and dimming the lights enough to cover your dead eyes, I leave you there, lying still in my bed. Taking enough time to adjust the amount of blood in my alcohol, I come back to you. It never matters how long, still you hold that position for me. Never being able to scream means you can’t moan your pleasure over my illegal intrusions. I love you my sweet. I think tonight I’ll make you a blonde, and tomorrow a brunette. Then, I’ll tie your stiff arms behind you and in my final thrust, I’ll feel your soul drain and you’ll lie limp in my arms. My tears wet your flattened breasts, your misshapenhead makes your eyes point in crazy directions. You are my everything, you never leave, you never complain, you never reject me, your are mine and I love you, Manny Quinn

(’tis all in jest my faithful readers)

05052013 

Crash – Their choices, your demise

“Men may change their climate, but they cannot change their nature. A man that goes out a fool cannot ride or sail himself into common sense.” – Joseph Addison



Expecting a crumpling low buckling sound of screaming metal as the car slid sideways, the world spun by, lights flashing on every revolution. With a sudden jolt and crunch, I wrapped my world around the telephone pole of wantonness. The crash owned me, the unexpected result of decisions made without knowledge of the wreckage about to be imposed on my world. 

I shut the door of my travels with a solid thud, and adjusted my mirrors. Putting the seat belt of my expectations securely in place with a snap, not knowing this same preparation may kill me as well as help me, I took off into the darkness. Acceleration comes easy, this way’s familiar to me. Comfortable with my situation, I stop without thinking to pick her up, after all, I’m in charge of this ride, what do I have to fear? Rain blew in when I opened the door, the few drops drawing attention to changing times. The speed felt good, my instincts guiding me through a thousands of choices as I reached speeds exceeding the limits imposed by order and wisdom. My life is able to handle this, I’ve built my engines of purpose and survival to last and persevere under the stress of the journey. With the wind in our hair I, with startled revelation, spun around with her, seeing the whole thing coming to a massive and heart wrenching conclusion. In all my confidence, I forgot that other drivers make choices too and those choices were causing my demise in this crazy, wild, no holds barred finality. How did this happen to me? Reasons are left unanswered as I breath my last through gargled gasps and see our bodies mangled in the aftermath. It happens to us all, soon the vehicle of our life will, with or without our choice, end up in an ugly crash. Be wise young soul, no matter how fast your car or skilled your operation, people that drive around can wreck you, without your thought or choice, in a most exquisite crash.

Crash – Their choices, your demise

“Men may change their climate, but they cannot change their nature. A man that goes out a fool cannot ride or sail himself into common sense.” – Joseph Addison



Expecting a crumpling low buckling sound of screaming metal as the car slid sideways, the world spun by, lights flashing on every revolution. With a sudden jolt and crunch, I wrapped my world around the telephone pole of wantonness. The crash owned me, the unexpected result of decisions made without knowledge of the wreckage about to be imposed on my world. 

I shut the door of my travels with a solid thud, and adjusted my mirrors. Putting the seat belt of my expectations securely in place with a snap, not knowing this same preparation may kill me as well as help me, I took off into the darkness. Acceleration comes easy, this way’s familiar to me. Comfortable with my situation, I stop without thinking to pick her up, after all, I’m in charge of this ride, what do I have to fear? Rain blew in when I opened the door, the few drops drawing attention to changing times. The speed felt good, my instincts guiding me through a thousands of choices as I reached speeds exceeding the limits imposed by order and wisdom. My life is able to handle this, I’ve built my engines of purpose and survival to last and persevere under the stress of the journey. With the wind in our hair I, with startled revelation, spun around with her, seeing the whole thing coming to a massive and heart wrenching conclusion. In all my confidence, I forgot that other drivers make choices too and those choices were causing my demise in this crazy, wild, no holds barred finality. How did this happen to me? Reasons are left unanswered as I breath my last through gargled gasps and see our bodies mangled in the aftermath. It happens to us all, soon the vehicle of our life will, with or without our choice, end up in an ugly crash. Be wise young soul, no matter how fast your car or skilled your operation, people that drive around can wreck you, without your thought or choice, in a most exquisite crash.