I Love Beautiful Dark Things – Not all things dark are evil

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.” Mary Oliver
afanador
I love beautiful dark things,
that bring shadow to your life,
making things come alive,
with depth and mystery.
These beautiful dark things
are what’s between bright and nothing,
a hope of a world beyond extremes.
 
I love beautiful dark things,
without which you’re two dimensional.
Lost on the page of life.
I bring direction with my beautiful dark things,
They show you where the light is,
the subtlety of life,
bringing texture from flat canvas.
 
I love beautiful dark things,
Not all that’s dark is contrary to light.
I’m wherever light is found,
I’m the coolness in the heat,
I’m the protection on the run.
Beautiful dark things are
mysteries of things to come,
A shroud to cover your soul.
 
I love beautiful dark things…
 Also published in Broowaha
09022011
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The Hermit Chronicles: Castle Of Singularity

“…Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become a Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock…” – Matthew Gregory Lewis, The Monk
seattlestravels

I existed alone, in a little cave of nowhere, and was quite content to be exactly where I didn’t know. Gladly retiring to my castle of singularity, I sensed others, not prowling, but curious of my existence. I hid quietly, waiting for them to pass by like so many times before, but then the rustling stopped, the leaves breathlessly announcing a turn in the path leading to me. The steps crunched closer and my hiding place is revealed. I’ve discovered many places to hide, and in spite of my camouflage, there I’m found. I don’t want them to find me, I want to remain secluded, my resources won’t support their hunger and thirst. No matter how I try, they come. With desires no man can tame, they press me out of my comfort, pushing me to give a portion of myself. What is it about a man who desires no pleasure of company, that lures so many to invite themselves to just that, his company? The more I push and pull from society, the more curiosity I inspire. Can’t they just pass by and stop following me down these endless circling, rocky paths? Only to lay on me the guilt of their choice saying, “You never looked out for us, you led us down the wrong path”. Turn back little ones, fair maidens, here in this dark cave lies great desire, desire that will fuel the pain of loss, for only when you desire much can your hopes be dashed against the longing, when all you sought disappears in the dark once again.

05102013

The Hermit Chronicles: Aimless

“The true adventurer goes forth aimless and uncalculating to meet 
and greet unknown fate.– O. Henry
chymecindy
In the early dawn, the dark and the bright birth
My silver cage flew open, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the cool of the morning, the placenta of night
My foundling feet find rhythm, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the heat of noon, the umbilical light a rage
My downy wings grow furious, and I wandered,
Aimless
 
In the dying day, the flower of life now closing
My infant dreams lay in grasses, and I wandered,

Somnambulation –

 “I don’t know,” he said. “I just feel like I have to do something.”
“Do what?”
“I don’t know. That’s what’s wrong. Or part of what’s wrong. I feel like I’m sleepwalking.”
Rainbow Rowell, Attachments
beckycloonan
Once I was awake and aware,
not that long ago I swear.
Sleep walking and as I go,
moving is unkindly slow.
Force a smile but for me,
awake again will never be.
Doomed to wander in this fright,
dark in here is always light.
In a slumbering place I shake,
always walking never awake.
First Published in Opinions of Eye

Leap Of Faith –

“The foolish ask many questions the wise cannot answer” – Oscar Wilde
“Of the making of books there is no end, and much study leads to exhaustion.” 

 

Questions are a sign of intelligence and creativity that given the right environment, can lead to an endless, tortuous circle of reasoning. Why did that tragedy happen to me? Is God male or female? Will I know people after I die? These inquiries exhaust my mental and emotional energy, leaving me with no strength to push through the day at hand. Questioning my beliefs, my existence, my experience, is necessary, but I must lay down these pursuits and find a place of peaceful existence should my questions go unanswered. What follows is a leap of faith that eventually brings sense of well-being to my life. There I have to understand that I don’t understand, admit my finite power of mind, lay down my notepad, my calculator, my psychoanalysis, and find the peace that will guide me though the dark valley of the unknown.
 
Also published on Broowaha
First published in Opinionsofeye.com
12122011 

Into The Dark – Take me to your dark places –

“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”
spurs-32

 

Ill follow you there, into the dark
The dark is my lover, I caress it’s shadowy folds.
Come, join me in the midnight blackness
It soothes the brightness of truth
Thick blindness holds us tight
Our fears close but held at bay
Cold, our emotions now irrelevant
Ill follow you there, into the dark
Where lie my deepest fantasies
Lay down your fear my sweet woman
Take my misty promises into the wildness
Of the unknown, unfeeling, and unbelievable
Provoking them to relinquish their hidden treasure
as I follow you there, into the dark 

Also published in Broowaha
First published in Opinions Of Eye
02012012

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