The Way – Nightmares from childhood

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
 
DMW Sager

Stop! But they wouldn’t.

Let go! But they didn’t.
No! But they said, “Yes we will“.
Help! But they are deaf.
Go Away! But they lingered on.

And so went the nightmare called childhood till the day he found the Way. With strength not his own, wisdom above him, and boldness, the Way erased his fears.

Stop! They jumped back in amazement.
Let go! They released and ran.
No! They stood with shocked mouths open.
Help! His God answered with strong support.
Go away! They never could come back again.

Sweet victory when fear dies
                                                      

11042011

The Way – Nightmares from childhood

“Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.” – John Milton, Paradise Lost
 
DMW Sager

Stop! But they wouldn’t.

Let go! But they didn’t.
No! But they said, “Yes we will“.
Help! But they are deaf.
Go Away! But they lingered on.

And so went the nightmare called childhood till the day he found the Way. With strength not his own, wisdom above him, and boldness, the Way erased his fears.

Stop! They jumped back in amazement.
Let go! They released and ran.
No! They stood with shocked mouths open.
Help! His God answered with strong support.
Go away! They never could come back again.

Sweet victory when fear dies
                                                      

11042011

Angel, Part 7 – Razor’s Edge

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Angry tears dried quickly on the long ride to the county jail. My wrists swelled as I squirmed in pain on the hard plastic seat of the sheriff’s car. Begging for him to loosen the cuffs, it was a cry that went unheeded, there was no way he was giving me slack. Laying on cold cement floors of the jail added now to my list of exciting experiences while with my angel; the excitement part of the lure for this lonely old man to pursue this young angel. They released me on my O.R., a term I had previously no knowledge of…my “own recognizance”. What was happening to me? I never acted like this. The rack and chains of jealousy are powerful catalysts to change a humble man into a creature of demonic rage. How close are love and hate? I fondled that razor edge, looking over into that dark chasm shadowed with the darkness of rage.

I managed to get back home, cold, miserable and confused. She was there, sleeping. A bottle of tequila lay empty on the floor, some pills scattered on the table. I woke her with a kiss. Evidently the owner’s decided against playing in this particular fire. Gently I pulled her blond hair to the side. Sleeping like this, I could still see some lingering touches of innocence. Her face, so gentle and pure again, like the angel I first met. She stirred, and seeing me, a reassuring smile spread from her face over her body, responding to me, reaching out and pulling me into bed. She felt so good, her body relaxed from the alcohol and pills, she pulled at my belt clumsily, I in a heated rush ripped the tired jeans from my body. 

We rolled around for hours in ecstasy. I fell asleep exhausted from the release of emotion and sex. She fell asleep, content that she still had the reigns, the prey had not left, he was just a little exhausted. The predators will chase and wait till you have lost your will before they pounce. She knew all she had to do was let me fight myself, she would clean up the mess after that. Fighting myself. Little did I know or understand that this whole game was of my making. I could have ended it at any time. Onward I went, my character eroding, my ambitions evaporating, and my soul, slowly withering under my assault.


Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

photo . net

The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha

Angel, Part 2 – A Night With Angel

photo . net

The rest of the night blurred by, like so many nights do, when you don’t have the courage to look for a tomorrow. I stumbled home and with her image caught in the narrow grooves of my mind, fell asleep, dreaming of angels. Opening my eyes in drunken squints, “Can someone turn off that damn light?” I laughed, of course not, it was the sun greeting me to a new day. I showered off the smell, but the after effects of the night hung on until afternoon. By then, my mind was way ahead of the day, thinking that tonight I will run into my angel again. She left enough of me wanting her again, to keep my attention. The wolf will let you walk as far away from your den as she can, before she let’s you see her. Wandering after this vision, the evening soon came and I found myself in my usual position at the watering trough of the dive. I stood at the door to look at what the evening would bring in on its air, and, to see my angel, if by chance she would be there. Just as I about gave up and walked in after some other enticement, I heard my name. Now no one calls me by my name, hell, no one knows me, and for that matter no one cared too. It was no surprise this startled me, that, there she was, a big smile on her face, hugging me like I was the last person on earth. How is it that she can like me? How can she even remember me? A thousand questions come at me, I knew I had nothing left to offer anyone at this point in my life. I left those questions alone, like my instinct and self preservation, left alone, defenseless of my own accord. The time quickly passed as slow dance after tempting slow dance, fast dance after erotic, down to the floor, fast dance, rolled through the night. Oh yes, time passed quickly, as she swallowed me into her world. She took me by the hand, “It’s gonna be OK, let me introduce you to what your wife never would. Come follow me.” So I did, seduced not only by pleasure, but by the fact that this young woman would be so taken by me that she would pursue me. The prey should not be so enthralled with this attention, but then again, what prey knows they are just that, until, it is too late.

Also published in: Broowaha

Again – A journey of addiction

“I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as I used to spoil my copybooks; and I make so many beginnings there never will be an end. (Jo March)” 
gstatic

Morning sun lighting the pain of hopelessness, I got messed up – again.


Ashamed to lift my eyes, chemicals course through my mind

Taking me places NO ONE should ever go – again.

Mind scrambles now, panic mode. What do I say to those who are waiting for me – again?

How can I pick up the pieces? What excuse is good enough for my failure?

Stomach hurting from the stress of seeing her cry.

From hearing the phone that rang countless times –

people who love me looking for me – again.

Gotta get some sleep now, rest and think how I can get out of this mess.

Tomorrow, I’ll make it all better. I’ll work harder, I’ll buy gifts, I’ll really pour on the charm, again

Tomorrow I’ll quit, tomorrow I’ll be fine. I’ll never do this.. Again. Again. Again. 
 Again……..
 

Between Two Worlds – Choices

 “What is the point of having free will if one cannot occasionally 
spit in the eye of destiny?”  – Jim Butcher, White Night

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I find a journey,
between two worlds,
full of mystery,
as my path unfurls.

With no knowledge,
of whats before,
I choose to continue,
to go through the door.

Where the path leads,
I have yet to know.
I have my purpose,
now I must go.

To stay where I’ve been,
no riches are gained.
Forward I press on,
in spite of the pain.