Echo of Woods – Missing parts of me

“Their screams would echo through the house and reverberate against my eardrums until my mind would fracture. Years went by and with each fracture; I lost a piece of my soul until I became lost and empty inside.”
J.D. Stroube, Caged in Darkness
am-ende-2punkt0

My lover, you followed me on lost paths, chasing my longings deeper, before I turned and saw, you’re not there. The pieces I broke off to mark my exit you ate and then flew away, without any words, disappearing in hollows of echoing woods. I know my soul’s alone by the absence of those missing pieces. How can they be gone, slipped into an eternity of forgetfulness, or thoughtlessness, pushed there by denial and an intense effort to pretend you didn’t happen, unless they were born at sometime in the messy afterbirth of a mind gone mad? If I let my thoughts take these updrafts of imagination, to soar above this wilderness of lore, I’ll see you again. The pain’s breathtaking, should I plunge back below to the feigned wellness of peace? Or perhaps, stay on these heated gestures of reaching and slip into the coldness of space losing the oxygen of you, and with tears and a reluctant release, my light will dim and finally extinguish.

06262013
 
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Darling

“The exhilarating ripple of her voice was a wild tonic in the rain.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 

Fresh-mind-fresh-day
                  Fresh-mind-fresh-day

Never was a gentle and quiet word
spoken but so clearly heard

Innocent as the new day
echoing across a souls pain

Whispering she is vulnerable
that was the angelic guise so

Eloquently draped with a voice
surrendering I had no choice

Her tender call seducing me
in a moment she had all I’d be

It made me feel amazingly alive
She the moon and I the tide

Even now in this dreary day
tenderly I can hear her say

Darling, Darling

*

First published in Opinions Of Eye

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

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

Do Unto Others

socola

Relationships are a struggle. I’m dating someone who has money, a career, and a future, and that’s important to a relationship. However, the another woman excites me physically, sex is amazing; and yet with another, I find that I’m in “love”, the feelings are hot and deep. All three things are necessary in a relationship: money, sex, and love, why can’t I have all three? Recalling the parable that says “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?” (Matthew 7:3), a flash of understanding enlightened my disillusionment. To obey this lesson, I take the measure I expect of my mate and use it to judge myself. How do I rate in these three areas? By disciplining myself and excelling in each of these categories, I’ll draw a mate who is doing likewise. Like building a bird house to attract a certain species, my example will likely attract mates doing the same. Practicing this wisdom, I laid down my magnifying glass I used to criticize my potential suitors and I looked in the mirror at the inequities in my life. By addressing my issues, I hope to one day meet another who’s doing likewise or perhaps to see clearer, that the one close to me, may already be the perfect match.

01292012
Also published in Life As A Human Magazine

 

Drowned

“Well, any love makes us vulnerable. Whatever we love will give the gift of pain somewhere along the road. But who would live sealed in spiritual cellophane just to keep from ever being hurt? There are a few people like that. I’m sorry for them. I think they are as good as dead.” ― Gladys Taber, Harvest at Stillmeadow  
 

aniaikiru

 Thinking she with baited breath, breathed the bearing winds
and with heated highs holding hands of holy fortune
But I was wrong

Believing the best of both between beaten breaking waves
and with hope helping a healing of heavy history
But I was wrong

Being wrong is easy, but the scorching blisters that remain from the heat of desire bring the pain of dying belief. Having lifted her up with my service and hope, giving all of my time and energy to see a buck shot doe come to life, who would know that she would attack me? A desperate soul uses no discretion in the flailing attempts at survival. Once on solid ground she looked back and saw me, floating on an ocean created by my sweat and tears, upside down, blue and bloated with discouraged heartache. In my resurrected state I can see her, and still I believe in her, being taught that my sacrifice means nothing in the comeback of the starlet. I only see her from a distance, and beholding her as the stars, hope that I never see her come streaking out of the night sky, burning through the atmosphere of her wantonness, and crashing into a broken blaze of kindling people.

Be it religion or love, in the end, who will use you up?

Victim of love?

 “…and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love’s ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.” – Stephen King, The Dark Tower

deppography

Speak to me of love’s glories and I’ll show you the teeth of this wild thing. Love is used as a lever to control people and deliver them to the slaughter. I think of the lonely woman, in love with her man. He beats her, cusses her, rapes her, and demeans her at every turn, yet, because of love, she stays with him. I think of mean and nefarious men who hold a woman captive and force her compliance by threatening her family. Her love for her family is the means by which they control her. Men are not exempt from this cruel trick of nature. I’ve seen a man destroy his family, his career, and ultimately his life because he fell in “love” with another woman. I’ve seen the drug addicted lead many down the road to ruin by courting their love and then using them till they are reduced to only a crust of bread for dinner. I’ve seen children, holding their parents hostage by the same love shown them. When will it end? When will I see that love is evil in this way. It constrains me to act in harmful and completely unreasonable courses of action. It forces me to make choices that are in the end, all the worse things that could be done.


Here is the mistake Love is not the holy stamp of approval on my dealings with humanity. Love does not guarantee the success or validity of a relationship. I see the reality and necessity of love, but only as a by-product of a healthy relationship, not as the final goal. The relationship should not be ruled by this love, but give birth to it, then raise it in subjection. How should I act when faced with my “love”? Love needs a system of checks and balances. A spiritual check can help control my direction, whether this is a good choice or bad. A logic check is important as well. Seriously, can my love for an abuser, child molester, or addict be expressed best by exposing myself and my family to his/her aberrations? Love will choose the death of the loved one for the best of the whole. If I am held hostage, my wife being raped, my belongings pilfered, all under the threat of killing my children, I say, “Be damned! I’ll not let them ravage my life using that lever of love. If I give in and allow the pillaging of my life, what will be left for the children, or woman, or whoever is the object used to force my compliance? What is left is a broken and shattered form, unable to provide for the family in any way. This is what is left for love when it is used to violate: brokenness, shattered dreams, and an inability to provide. Let us, my friends, be careful to not let love lead us down these treacherous paths and check ourselves lest we be found as victims of love.