It’s A Long Way Back –

The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.– Hunter S. Thompson
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“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. – Edgar Allan Poe
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butterflist

Its a long way back from the edge of life. I knew when I followed that path to the outer limits of my experience, my emotions raw and excited with newness of knowledge and feeling, that the price for this wonder is the journey back. It’s beautiful on the way to that edge, my soul being easily amazed by pleasures which offer no sure guidance and seduce me with their passion. This excitement is the elixir of madness offered by my wayward senses to lure me beyond the wise and sure. I have recognized the most painful of these experiences are the ones that offer extreme pleasures that lead me away from safety. There are many secrets out on that cliff, many of those secrets are taught on the journey back from the precipice. Run to the edge with reckless abandon, gather your pleasures of knowledge and lust, and know, a price will be paid. I’ll see you on our way back…

Also published in Life As A Human Magazine
Also published in Broowaha citizen newspaper
Also listed on Stumbleupon

First Published in Opinionsofeye.com

12022011

         

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,
N
o 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, you
r 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

The Assassination of Love –

“Never permit a dichotomy to rule your life, a dichotomy in which you hate what you do so you can have pleasure in your spare time.”Pablo Picasso 


superstar666

It’s not possible for addiction and love to live together very long before they attack one another. Addiction to self, to substances, to work, to anything, will soon drain from love it’s very life and leave the shell of an empty relationship as evidence of the crime. Love rarely is able to defend itself from such an attack. Tragically the perpetrator isn’t found till long after the crime has been committed.  Many are the deaths love has suffered at the hands of the fiend of addiction. Do your lover a favor, quit now while you still have love breathing between you.

Related Post: Still
First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

05222014 

Remnants –

“Love. Of course, love. Flames for a year, ashes for thirty.”
Giuseppe di Lampedusa, The Leopard

“The fire which seems extinguished often slumbers beneath the ashes.”
Pierre Corneille

ineluctablewords
The dreams you thought should happen
they never came to be
The plans spent in the night pursuing
disappeared unseen
With shattered glass under your feet
precious things undone
In a foreclosed heart your hiding
thinking shadows won
Fears your always one forgotten
on thirsty ground
Thunder is heard in cloudy darkness
stirring ashes found
Remnant future slain in jest
giving life to plains
Revelation in the reaching bolts
healing of the shame
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First published in Opinions Of Eye
 

 

Recovery is a Four Letter Word

“We often miss opportunity because it’s dressed in overalls and looks like work”
Thomas A. Edison
 

Recovery is a four letter word. Not the cliché recovery like addicts use, but, the kind of recovery that every successful and joyful human being has to initiate on a regular basis. Having the tenacity to lay down a bad relationship and carry on, face a business mistake or failure and come back to win, publicly humiliate myself and still hold my head up high and in spite of all having a life well lived to the envy of all my naysayers. The ability to come back from the edge is indispensable to living my life with happiness and accomplishment, it’s the essence of all joy and success.  By limiting my forward advancement with past mistakes or foibles, I’ve effectively short circuited my hope, dreams, loves, and triumphs. Do yourself a favor, come back from that disappointment, failure, or relationship and try again, don’t give up…you can succeed at whatever you believe, so believe the best about yourself, and enjoy your recovery. Recovery is a four letter word, WORK. Just do it. 

Also published in Broowaha 
04182011

How Right Is Your Right?

“The answer is that there is no good answer. So as parents, as doctors, as judges, and as a society, we fumble through and make decisions that allow us to sleep at night–because morals are more important than ethics, and love is more important than law.”
Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper 
allweareisbullets

Walking the fine line, what makes a criminal? There are things done to survive, like stealing to provide food, and things done for protection like killing to defend my family and nation. Many times the law’s broken for the sake of greater good, but there’s an intrinsic law we carry in our nature, a line that’ll become apparent hopefully before it’s crossed. There are some of us that are meant to be lawbreakers, by nature rebellious, and those are necessary. Many good things are accomplished by those who’re not afraid to break away from the current understanding of right and wrong. So at what point are the actions considered criminal, not in the sense of law, but in the sense of conscience? At this breaking of the deeper, shall I say, spiritual law, a path’s entered that if continued on will lead to a seared conscience, a point which the wrong that’s done is so severe that conviction of the wrong’s never felt again.

This aborted morality leads us to a higher authority in which to compare our decisions. Many points of contention rise in response to this directive of a higher power. Haven’t hugely deviant and violent actions been inspired by “spiritual directive”? Yes, and still they will, but the perversion of the truth does not negate the validity of the same. A spiritual directive is out there and needs to be sought after to guide our unsure moral crawl to a full stride of right choices. There are things that’ll obscure this path and those things should be avoided at all costs, especially the habit of them. Beware of things which lower inhibitions and subvert the will. Many things beside the obvious will hypnotize the unwary. Drugs, alcohol are cliches in this respect but there’re more cunning enemies, beware as you grow to understand and be consistent to follow those things which you learn, and most of all, keep seeking to be free of a seared conscience.

Her-icane

“If people were rain I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane.”  
– John Green, Looking for Alaska 

The hurricane was coming.
 No more wondering, no more warning.

 
Grabbing the tools to put up the ply, 
I began to work, an eye on the sky
 
Nail after nail, I secured what was mine, 
my loose ends are bound with white twine
 
Wind tugs my sweaty hair now, 
as horizontal drops begin to pound
 
Forgetting one thing in all the hurry, 
the open front door in rain now blurry
 
Rampaging through my unprotected gate, 
the raging storm expresses all of it’s hate
 
It’s all over with damage everywhere, 
all of my belongings strewn around there
 

I could have prevented this wind that blew, 
had I stopped myself from loving you

02082012