Captured –

I like to include a woman’s perspective on the subject matters addressed in this blog, and in light of this consideration I give you this entry composed by Jennifer Hester and published in the Posse’s Lair, enjoy!

She wrote
not about the color
of his eyes
The weight of his stare
pushed her back
pressing her will
against the sheets
her eyes crushed close
an attempt to
obliterate the heat

She wrote
not about his lips
the way they
pretended
to hold some shy secret
brushing temptation
pulling back evoking her appetite
she believed starvation
would eat her alive

She wrote
not about his lips
the way they
pretended
to hold some shy secret
brushing temptation
pulling back
evoking her appetite
she believed starvation
would eat her alive

She wrote
not about the battles they repeated
with wet skin
fire
fingers clasped and limbs
entwined
Their warrior cries and
hushed urgings
the inevitability of death
a quiet relief that held
only until
war was incited once more

What she did write
the sadness
the annihilation of reason
that completely devoured her head
How unreasonably
her ego
stood down
refusing to protect her
banished to the emotional
unable to
talk herself out of his charms

I suppose this is the reason
she didn’t want to write

*

Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

02142013

Advertisement

Love is a Tyrant

The following is an article by a talented writer, SZU. ” Love’s not a tyrant; lovers are; My heart’s a proof-with its shining scars.” Enjoy.

Recently an active exchange of poetic responses began between a friend and I. He wrote this beautiful one and sent it my way…and that’s how it began

When storms have raged and passed away
Can gentle calm succeed?
I sleep to ease a troubled mind
Sleep is the friend that I need…
With these few words I speak my mind
You in this, a quest will find
My quest is clear…seek it out
Love is a tyrant…when in doubt

I got an instant inspiration; and i wrote down the following words in response:

This storm is here for eternity,
No trace of calmness can I see…
No sleep, no rest can soothe my mind
No friend can bring me glee…
This unending quest kills me everyday,
I can’t reach where I want to be…
This doubt can be tyrant I know,
Still this love shall be a part of me…

We appreciated each other’s work and then obviously forgot about it. And just today when I was having my lunch; I got another set of couplets from him in response to what I wrote a week back:

Your storm once raged and passed away,
And the gentle calm did succeed
You slept and eased a troubled mind
Yet now sleep is the friend I need
In those few words you spoke your mind…
…and yet I was so lost, dumb and blind…
Your love’s still a tyrant, there’s no doubt
I’m lost and confused; my soul wants out…

So I just decided to post all the three poems on my blog. But as i am typing here; I can sense the birth of yet another response to his (above written)poem…here it goes..

Why live in the memories of that storm?
That was a reality once…but now its gone…
And why depend on a gentle calm?
And why not make your wounds, your balm?
Sleep- if dreams are where you belong…
Sleep – if that fake world makes you strong!
Don’t be lost, because they won’t find you
Don’t think much because those thoughts might blind you…
Love’s not tyrant; lovers are;
My heart’s a proof – with its shining scars.

Also published in Broowaha 

Also published in Opinionsofeye.com

09242014

Hooked

 “Assure a man that he has a soul and then frighten him with old wives’ tales as to what is to become of him afterward, and you have hooked a fish, a mental slave.”
– Theodore Dreiser

The following is a poem from an exceptionally talented new friend, Arne Tornek. Enjoy.

 

fantasygoth

The hook slicks in.

How easily she snags.

How tightly she tugs.

 

She knows no surrender.

Long in exile, she returns,

To lead you to forgotten rooms.

 

In a careless moment

She sucks the tongue from your mouth.

Coils it round your demon need,

Slips it back behind your lips.

 

You swallow her hard.

Scornfully, she sniggers at you.

Knows that you can’t do without her,

In spite of your painstaking

Hopeless attempts.

 

She washes over your mind like an old friend,

With the comforting allure of a new lover.

And she’s back with her pedicure

In the ring of your desires;

Your powerless soul at prayer

Under the Gothic arch of her painted foot.

01312012

Dreamweaver – Nightmares of Abuse

“My father was one of those men who sit in a room and you can feel it: the simmer, the sense of some unpredictable force that might, at any moment, break loose, and do something terrible.
[Burnside, p. 27]”
― John Burnside, A Lie About My Father: A Memoir 

The following is an excerpt from the hopeforhealing.org.,  poetry by survivors of sexual or domestic violence.

 

aneasylife4u

Come, beckons the night,

Let us dance together, and chase the dream weaver
I am not laughing at you
It is only the laughter of the past
Rushing through your brain

 

I am harmless, why do you resist me so?
Pearls of wisdom are here within my walls
And peace offerings as well
Yet you quake at the sight of me
My power has not alluded you

 

Need I remind you?
You cannot resist me forever!
I am that necessary evil
Which recreates evil past
My nourishment lies in your screams
So, foolish one, scream on!

 

No one is listening, no one hears
Wake them; tell them of your sad tales
I will recapture them before your voice silences
But they will not find your persecutor
And will think you mad

 

Reach for the sun, it is hours ’til its’ dawn
As I am your punisher, it is your reward
However, for now I am your companion
Let us dance together, and chase the dreamweaver
Come, I beckon you

011912

Two Methods For Dealing With Negative People

“Relationships with negative people are simply tedious encounters with porcupines. You don’t have the remote knowledge how to be close to them without quills being shot in your direction.” ― Shannon L. Alder

The following is an article by a talented writer, David Cain, on his website Raptitude. Enjoy.

A recurring question I get from readers is, “How do you deal with negative people?” I’ve never directly written about it because I’m not always sure whether they’re asking how *I* deal with negative people, or how one ought to deal with negative people. I can only tell you how I do it. There are actually two ways I deal with negative people.

Method 1

When someone makes a needless negative comment, I feel a spike of contempt somewhere in my lungs, and my eyes probably narrow for a second. I give a terse answer, if one is required. My mind says to the person, “Why do you have to be such a dick about it?” but I don’t actually say that. Then once I’m out of their presence I tell stories in my head about how wrong they are, I play out imaginary confrontations, I might make a speech that nobody will hear. Or I think of what I should have said right then, George Costanza style. “Well the jerk store called, and…”

This kind of internal dialogue/monologue can go on until I’m interrupted by real life, but even then it sometimes resurfaces later. It sometimes makes the day a bad day.

With this method, the one thing I don’t do is do something. I do think a lot though. I think with great force and anger. I think up a storm, a real impressive one. I inventory my reasons for how right I am, several letters-to-the-editor’s worth. My body doesn’t do anything except maybe make involuntary faces. It’s possible my tongue moves, I don’t know. In other words, the first of the two methods I have for dealing with negative people is to become one.

Method 2

It starts out the same: person says something negative, and I feel that contempt feeling, but for whatever reason it triggers a different thought process. I do feel the impulse to go on an internal tirade, but I don’t. Instead I find myself recognizing that the offensive party is having a bad day or a bad moment that could just as easily be happening to me. Even if they’re having a bad life, that could just as easily be happening to me too.

It’s not quite forgiveness, it’s more like, “Ah I’ve been there. Frustrated and unreasonable. Directing it at people who don’t deserve it.”

Even though my knee-jerk response is to stare daggers, I’m reminded that people get negative when they’re unconscious, in pain or trying to protect themselves from pain. All human activity can be boiled down to a combination of seeking pleasure and avoiding suffering. Negativity tends to come from avoiding suffering, and if I’m being fair, it helps neither of us to blame them for it.

Pessimism shields people from despair because it keeps expectations low. Blame shields people from the threats of having to be responsible for a problem they don’t think should be happening. I have been caught up in both, at times today even.

When I use method two I end up feeling almost good towards the negative party. It’s a weird feeling if you’re not used to it. The pain of others suddenly becomes directly relevant to you, yet it remains theirs. 

The Fruit – Tasting the loneliness

“I can’t face losin’ ya, Riley. Yer all I got left in this world.”
That brutal honesty again. He’d peeled away more armor, and this time he’d exposed his heart.” ― Jana Oliver, Forbidden

Words from a great author and friend, I thought you, my intelligent readers, would enjoy this:

I found this fruit.

I ate from it.

It was the most beautiful thing,

To be taken in small bites,

Taste in moderation,

Because a flavor so strong could destroy you quickly.

It was so beautiful, I couldn’t keep it to myself,

I had to share.

So I found you,

and we shared it.

But then..

You stopped picking it.

You wouldn’t come by,

And I was the one left to muster a lonesome bite.

-R.S.L.S

11282011

 

Love Again 2 –

I believe this fits the general theme of my blog and so I give you this poem, written by Philip Larkin. Enjoy.

Thomas Hawk

“Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he’s taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.

Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,
Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,
And me supposed to be ignorant,
Or find it funny, or not to care,
Even … but why put it into words?
Isolate rather this element

That spreads through other lives like a tree
And sways them on in a sort of sense
And say why it never worked for me.
Something to do with violence
A long way back, and wrong rewards,
And arrogant eternity.”

Down the Rabbit Hole

Written by the Muse in memory of her beloved man, Barry,  who I met through his group, The Posse’s Lair, on Facebook,

How far down does the rabbit hole go?

You always wanted to know.
Shall I follow you there?
Are you clearing a path as you
Have cleared paths for me before?

Will you wait for me?
You know my impatience.
I was your shadow, turn around
And I was always there.
I looked up
And you were always there.

We were inseparable, compatible,
One body sprung from the other.
It’s a painful separation.

How far down does the rabbit hole go?
I peer inside, it’s dark, and I call out
Only to hear my own voice returning to me,
“Where are you? Can you hear me?”

I’m afraid of the dark.
Will I find brier and root
Blocking my way to you,
My compass star,
Who gave me reason to love,
To laugh, to sing?
Now only this echo is my guide,
Or is it your voice
Calling back to me?
I never could tell the difference..
And that brings me some comfort.

How far down does the rabbit hole go?
You always wanted to know.

Muse

We‘ll be there soon Barry, Viva La Revolution!

 

My Thorns, My Gift

thirteenbrains

I watch with envy
the flowers around me
they sway so freely
they seem so happy
so full of life
colorful and bright
but no not me
I have the devils horns on me
these thorns restrict me
no one picks me
no one seems to want me
they leave me out
saying I’m different
saying I seem so uptight
my mother tells me
I’m just not right
she told me to see my thorns
in a different light
how lucky
she says
you are
to have thorns
while all the flowers
seem so free
they are in major
danger
they seem happy
but it’s a lie
they are colorful and bright
but they have nothing inside
you have it all
for you have the ultimate gift
you have your thorns
which protect you
through the darkness of night
and the evilness in life
they will help you win
every fight
and you will get through
everything you face
just do what’s right
and hold onto your thorns
tight
and you will soon see
the light

Copyright © 2010 taking off the mask 

First Published by Taking Off the Mask, a writer for Broowaha

11112011

Self Inflicted – A young woman’s cry

The following is an entry from one of my favorite bloggers, Descending Ascension. She presents a raw and uncensored woman’s point of view of a relationship. In this entry she describes abuse and its effect on her mind. Enjoy.

annawestergren

I am defeated

When I let you taint my body.

When you corrupt me,

And deflower my mind.

I am surrendered,

To sins and vice,

Of human things and aspects.

And all the while you’re dragging me down,

Saying sorry for the fucking,

I only say,

“I don’t mind.”

Truth is I do, and you know it.

Such vulgar words and sentiments to escape my lips.

So why don’t you save me?

Stop me?

We’re all just prisoners of our own device.

Besides,

I have never needed a drug.

My mind does more to me 

than alcohol or drugs could ever promise to.

-R.S.L.S

Taken from: Descending Ascension
01062012