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
*
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. – Edgar Allan Poe
 *
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

         

Good Morning – A royal awakening for a lover –

“I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came…and I was awakened.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Awakened

Alas, she wakens with breath so sweet that all words long to be formed by her delicious lips. What better way to both live and die than in the mouth of one so delectable…soon I’ll follow them into your caves of pleasure…I find all paths of your perfumed delight leading to home….

I know what will take you from the nether regions of rest my love, I need but spend an hour with your body that responds with eagerness against my flicks of hunger and your passion will run on this beard, while your legs struggle to support the reality that you have not gone to heaven yet, you only visited there by my invitation…
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First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

11 Things I Wish My Daughter To Know – Wisdom for my daughters –

Athena, Goddess Of Wisdom
1)  Hold your head high, you’re beautiful, every day, all the time. When a man asks you to change your appearance to be acceptable to him, walk away and be yourself. Develop your character inside. Beauty is deeper than an outward appearance.
2)  Respect yourself. In all you do and say, be a woman of class and honor. You will not get respect until you respect yourself.
3)  Follow your dreams, never let a relationship, whether it be friendship, or love, rob you of what you dream.
4)  Be independent, make sure of your own finances, health, and career. Always have a way of escape – financially, physically, and emotionally.
5)  Beware when you find yourself rescuing a man, whether financially or emotionally. They will use your motherly instincts to manipulate you and guilt to force your hand to provide for them.
6)  Every gift has a price, you may not see it at first, but it’s there. Don’t take lavish gifts from men, they will pressure you with it. Earn what you want on your own.
7)  When a man hits you, he WILL hit you again. You need to leave right away or know that you will get beat in the future. He will not change, you will suffer at his hand. There are no exceptions to this rule.
8)  Listen to your heart, when you feel something is wrong, something is. These are your gifts, empathy and insight.
9)  Precipitating a crisis to keep a man from leaving is a grave error. Getting pregnant, getting “sick”, using his secrets to threaten him, these will all backfire on you.
10)  Pick the things you will and won’t deal with. Every man will have some quality that will drive you crazy, a fault that may or may not be forgivable. Choose what faults you will or won’t deal with BEFORE you’re in a relationship and stick to your decision.
11)  Do not cheat on your man, this can lead to great violence toward you and injury to your self esteem. There is never a happy ending to this, if he cheats with you he’ll cheat on you. If you’re not satisfied with your man, leave. This can save your life.

These things will help keep you safe and happy, and will prevent your dad from having to kill someone…

Love you girls,
Pops

Related Posts:
11 Things I Wish My Son To Know
11 Things Observed In the Betrayal Of My Friend

Also published in Broowaha 

 12152011 

The Music – Music brings a release

 “Without music, life would be a mistake.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols

I turned the music on today.

I let the pain work its way out and through
my heart to my eyes,
welling up with watery release

I turned the music on today.
I let the tears come rolling on in and down
my face to my lips,
tasting my salty sorrow.

I turned the music on today.
I felt all of it rolling around and across
I let myself go
from my life in this dark room.

I turned the music on today… 

Also published in: Broowaha

12062011 



Though – To forget you, I cannot

 “Love between strangers takes only a few seconds and can last a whole life.”
Simon Van Booy,
Love Begins in Winter: Five Stories

I felt your hair, though you were a stranger, laying on my leg.
I enjoyed your attention, though you were distracted, by another.
I let myself feel you, though I knew you would leave, again.
I remember you now, though others have forgotten, you never left me.

12012011

Alone In The Company of Her

“The trouble is not really in being alone, it’s being lonely. One can be lonely in the midst of a crowd, don’t you think?” Christine Feehan, Dark Prince 
 

melissaharmonphoto

We smiled our smiles, kisses burned
Feelings rushed one way
For me not returned
This is how I find myself
Alone in the company of her

Also published in: Broowaha
11262011 

Hour Of The Wolf – Wrestling with 3 a.m.

“Have you ever heard of the hour of the wolf? My father told me about it. It’s the time between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. You can’t sleep, and all you can see is the troubles and the problems and the ways that your life should’ve gone but didn’t...The wolf and I are now on a first-name basis. In times like this, my father used to take one large glass of vodka before bed. To keep the wolf away, he said. And then he would take three very small drinks of vodka, just in case she had cubs while she was waiting outside. It doesn’t work.”

americanparkour – nate

We are old adversaries, 3 a.m. and I, from my youth we’ve struggled together. Many are the battles, endured, survived. Everything is clear with nowhere to hide from my thoughts, from my past, from my heart. Lying awake at 3, reality is raw, my thoughts accusing, blaming, vindictive. Who can stand alone with 3 a.m.? Hauntings begin, things I thought were dead, coming to life. Now I call out a battle cry against this loathsome time.

“3, you sought my life, mercilessly slaying my peace, wracking my soul with dread at having to face you, again, again, and again, always there. 
Come let’s wrestle again. I’ve survived this long, now I’ll be victorious over you.”  


(She walks behind me, wrapping me in her arms and laying her head against my shoulder, the warmth from her body, comforting.) 
 
“Come, let’s contend again. I’m smiling at you, not from a drunken stupor, a drug induced high, or a crazed insanity, but from a strength born of hope.  Come 3, come and try me again.” 

(I find myself smiling contentedly at my lover. Her soft smile shows me that I make her happy, but not nearly as happy as she has made me.) 

“Come loneliness, will you wrestle with me now in this early morning? Come pain, can we contend with each other now?” 

(She whispers her love in my ear) 

“Despair, you miserable ally of 3, you have held me captive so many times, now I challenge you, armed with peace and contented love, weapons procured from Jah, my heavenly father through my lover.” 

(She calls my name from the room, her sweet soft voice, inspiring me with feelings of fulfillment) 

“Be warned 3, my strength is not of this world, enabling me with full power to run through you. You shout your threats, saying you will win at the last, but, I have tenacity, born from battles innumerable, born from long nights of war, brutal conflicts, with you.”

(I go in to her, holding my lover close, smiling, the sun peeking through the windows, a witness to the victory)

I raise my hands, and call to my friends, “Take courage, you can win over this ancient nemesis! 3 a.m. need never threaten you again.”

Related Post: Nemesis – Stalked From My Youth
Also published in Broowaha

040511

Hour Of The Wolf – Wrestling with 3 a.m.

“Have you ever heard of the hour of the wolf? My father told me about it. It’s the time between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. You can’t sleep, and all you can see is the troubles and the problems and the ways that your life should’ve gone but didn’t...The wolf and I are now on a first-name basis. In times like this, my father used to take one large glass of vodka before bed. To keep the wolf away, he said. And then he would take three very small drinks of vodka, just in case she had cubs while she was waiting outside. It doesn’t work.”

americanparkour – nate

We are old adversaries, 3 a.m. and I, from my youth we’ve struggled together. Many are the battles, endured, survived. Everything is clear with nowhere to hide from my thoughts, from my past, from my heart. Lying awake at 3, reality is raw, my thoughts accusing, blaming, vindictive. Who can stand alone with 3 a.m.? Hauntings begin, things I thought were dead, coming to life. Now I call out a battle cry against this loathsome time.

“3, you sought my life, mercilessly slaying my peace, wracking my soul with dread at having to face you, again, again, and again, always there. 
Come let’s wrestle again. I’ve survived this long, now I’ll be victorious over you.”  


(She walks behind me, wrapping me in her arms and laying her head against my shoulder, the warmth from her body, comforting.) 
 
“Come, let’s contend again. I’m smiling at you, not from a drunken stupor, a drug induced high, or a crazed insanity, but from a strength born of hope.  Come 3, come and try me again.” 

(I find myself smiling contentedly at my lover. Her soft smile shows me that I make her happy, but not nearly as happy as she has made me.) 

“Come loneliness, will you wrestle with me now in this early morning? Come pain, can we contend with each other now?” 

(She whispers her love in my ear) 

“Despair, you miserable ally of 3, you have held me captive so many times, now I challenge you, armed with peace and contented love, weapons procured from Jah, my heavenly father through my lover.” 

(She calls my name from the room, her sweet soft voice, inspiring me with feelings of fulfillment) 

“Be warned 3, my strength is not of this world, enabling me with full power to run through you. You shout your threats, saying you will win at the last, but, I have tenacity, born from battles innumerable, born from long nights of war, brutal conflicts, with you.”

(I go in to her, holding my lover close, smiling, the sun peeking through the windows, a witness to the victory)

I raise my hands, and call to my friends, “Take courage, you can win over this ancient nemesis! 3 a.m. need never threaten you again.”

Related Post: Nemesis – Stalked From My Youth
Also published in Broowaha

040511

Diary of a Mad Man – Living with mental illness

“No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness.” ― Aristotle

sagennext

They said to me, “Walk!”. My feet wouldn’t move, frozen by the accident. Appendages that are normally useful, mobile, and independent, I drag them along, taking care that I don’t injure them. The accident, as I call it, was not an accident, but a purposeful intended act, inspired by lust and hate. What they did to me I cannot tell, the acts so horrific. Regardless of the details of their brutal incursion, what I was left with is a handicap, one of the mind, not the body. Having to make do with a shredded normality, crawling through my life, instead of walking, never able to run. What was taken for granted, now became a challenge for me. While others run, leap, climb, and move about with impunity to mental mobility. I must develop new ways, ways that hurt, ways that require intense concentration, intense discipline. Still they taunt me, “get up and walk”, “why can’t you just be like the rest of us”. They can’t see I’m disabled, bound by forces that were neither chosen, nor desired, but forced on me in a cruel and harsh manner.


My injury cannot be seen, my useless legs are a shattered self-esteem, a mind crippled from ever thinking in a sane manner again. Insanity, psychosis, visions, voices, nightmares, self-deprecating thoughts, and accusations invade my every waking moment. Perceptions of reality and fantasy mix together, making the deciphering of fact and fiction a huge effort in itself. All day, every day, I roll around in a mental wheelchair, like one with paralyzed legs, committed to implements of bothersome necessity. I watch the heads wag, “Tsk, tsk. Quit being a pansy, just get up and walk”. Damn it! Can’t you see I can’t freaking walk? Can’t you see that it takes me longer to do normal things? I must make preparations for the ordinary, that which you do without an effort takes me great pains to produce, to perform, to succeed.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I’m a success and exceedingly happy, and in these I’ll continue, but the insensitivity of others upsets me. Refusing patience with, or acceptance of the fact, that I’m not like them. I cannot get up in the morning and be without fear, I cannot go into a crowd and relax, I cannot be in the dark. Paranoia haunts me, I sense conspiracies coming from everyone, from everything. Shame burns in me, flushing my cheeks at the least exposure of my faults or idiosyncrasies. My mind races with thousands of thoughts a minute, deep thoughts, all of them.

I ask for no special treatment, just for a bit of patience with me as you accompany me on my journey through this world. Please, not only with me, but with the many others afflicted in a like manner, be sure you understand that although the pain of mental illness is not visible, it does handicap us from doing things in a normal manner. Be patient with crazy people, we really are cool, even if it takes us awhile to work our way through the battlefields of life.

Also published in Broowaha

12282011 

Stars, They Tell Me Of You

 “All we ever see of stars are their old photographs.” ― Alan Moore, Watchmen
 

pinkcherrybomb

The stars, they tell me of you.

It isn’t you I see, I see the part of you
that has only now,
come to light.
I love the you I see now,
but you’ve changed already.
I think I know you,
but, like the stars,
you’re only a distant image 
of what
has already been.

Also published in: Broowaha 
12052011