None Shall Escape –

“There is no point treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad, saying, ‘There now, hang on, you’ll get over it.’ Sadness is more or less like a head cold- with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer.”
 – Barbara Kingsolver, The Bean Trees

s-a-e-c-u-l-u-m

This is no ordinary little house, in a dark wooded lot, with a long curving driveway. Quintessential in time, the smell of rotten leaves, moldy dead trees, and moss create an invitation likely to instill fear. Leaves and draping parasitic vines serve to block out the intrusion of light. Things crawl and slither, poisonous things with teeth naturally sharp to penetrate the hood of protection. A damp chill wraps up the weary and pulls them to the coldness of the nether world. Light mists drift low to the ground, creeping with ethereal madness. Large things, nightmares, snap twigs and disappear with startling proficiency. These all have conspired to hide escape and draw the fearful soul deeper and deeper, sliding down the viscous sides of mortality’s flowers in a one way trip. The house is ancient in design, hundreds of years ago the brick and mortar were set and stony copper gargoyles put here to observe the folly of one gone mad. The door’s misleading, it’s a lure, pulling and tugging to get it’s prey close, crushing hopes with its efficacious skill of holding fast against panicked desperation. Fists pound against it creating unheard echos and with beastly strength the spell is transferred from spirit to flesh. Vibrant greens are subdued to the gray and black of lands beyond. The colors are smudged by an errant creator attempting to dismiss this aberration. Bones of lost hope litter the exposed roots and walkways, little roads to nowhere showing tracks of the worst going in circles. This is the notorious lair of depression, many will enter, none shall escape.

Also published in Broowaha
Also published in Opinionsofeye.com
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No One Can See

“It’s just some instinct as old as fear: you seek the dark when you hide, you seek the light when the need to hide is gone. All the animals have it too. (“New York Blues”)”
Cornell Woolrich,
Night and Fear: A Centenary Collection of Stories 
 
i3 – ytimg
Flee my soul into the tide
Dive my soul into the night
No one can see
 
Float again, soon to be
The flavor of lust again in thee
No one can see
 
Something beyond calling to me
To gather my strength and give esteem
No one can see
 
Hiding alone amongst the trees,
again I rejoice in the fallen leaves
No one can see
 
Flying through the depths of seas
in the caves are heavens keys
No one can see
No one can see
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She Sings

“Dance your pain, sing your sorrows, because there is nothing else tomorrow.”
Santosh Kalwar

 

She beckons one, she caresses you from afar.
You can’t see her, she knows you

You can’t hold her, never in your arms 


Hearing her singing in the trees, their leaves rustling her name 

Now you want her, feeling her desire
Now you long for her, feeling her power
Now you look for her, hour after hour 

Hearing her singing in the wind, the breeze whispering her name

You know she will fool you, she will give you great pleasure
You know she will hurt you, she will give you great escape
You know she will lie to you, she will give you great fantasy 


Hearing her singing in the storm, the thunder shouting her name
 
Left with nothing but what the struggle brings
Love wins once again, who’s next? 
She sings….. 

Also published in: Broowaha

12262011 

Hidden

“Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we want to conceal.”Russell Lynes  


darkjinn

Cloaks, shields, cover for you.

Duck, run, defense for you.
Leaves they blend with your skin
Camouflage from within.
Scent not your own,
Voice unknown.
Scant you appear.
Leaning away in fear.
Shadows, darkness to confuse
Who can know you, when hiding is your muse?

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

011811 

So Now I Float – Releasing the struggle of now

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring 
I swam, twisting about in this tumbling whirlpool of dead leaves and rotten wood, for days of nights and nights of days. With a mighty crash my world changed, as the breaking of one old tree led to a deafening splash in the darkened corner of my misty forest. Flying through the air, touching other less lively individuals, seeing sky, then earth, then sky, then earth again as I spiraled through quiet autumns air; I deftly floated, having lost the weight of my captivity with the ferocity of my extrication. The place of my landing was not as habit forming like my prior life, it being tumultuous and ever changing. My fellow flotsam rushed by with blurring speed, leaving me chasing them in the disappearing wakes. The journey is mine now, no other soul to see, with haste the pace brings the wonder about what will be, to what is now, and can never be changed. Taking caution by the hand, binding him with cords of excited decision, I tossed him aside. Only the rushing river and the changing seasons accompany me. Soon, I will find what I’m looking for, I’m just so tired of swimming, so now I float.

So Now I Float – Releasing the struggle of now

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost.”

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring 
I swam, twisting about in this tumbling whirlpool of dead leaves and rotten wood, for days of nights and nights of days. With a mighty crash my world changed, as the breaking of one old tree led to a deafening splash in the darkened corner of my misty forest. Flying through the air, touching other less lively individuals, seeing sky, then earth, then sky, then earth again as I spiraled through quiet autumns air; I deftly floated, having lost the weight of my captivity with the ferocity of my extrication. The place of my landing was not as habit forming like my prior life, it being tumultuous and ever changing. My fellow flotsam rushed by with blurring speed, leaving me chasing them in the disappearing wakes. The journey is mine now, no other soul to see, with haste the pace brings the wonder about what will be, to what is now, and can never be changed. Taking caution by the hand, binding him with cords of excited decision, I tossed him aside. Only the rushing river and the changing seasons accompany me. Soon, I will find what I’m looking for, I’m just so tired of swimming, so now I float.

Pleasant Company – Nature’s brotherhood

“Our task must be to free ourselves… by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and it’s beauty.” Albert Einstein

DMW Sager

Start off easy, morning sun, waves in the distance, crashing their applause. Wind tickles the leaves creating an uproar of green and brown laughter. The wind again, running through the boughs, skipping with childish delight from one branch to the next. Spotlights, sun breaking through the tropical canopy, like lights on a dance floor. The trees give up a few tired friends, they fall to the ground, a crackle, snap, and a crunch, their dieing cry. Some stubborn appendages hang on for dear life, rigor mortise has their woody fingers clinging to rebellion against nature’s whips. Through the clearing, a dark blue sea, a stark contrast to the subtle deep green and yellow new growth. Not to be forgotten even miles away from its brother forest, waves cheer back, their voice carried by the mediating wind. Peace my younger brothers, sing with exuberance at the arrival your visitor.